Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“I pretended like I was just there to exchange information,” Harlan says. “And he bought it, hook, line, and sinker.” Harlan laughs, remembering how he tricked my brother into talking about the story. “He explained everything that he learned about Andretti and even said that he suspected someone at the paper was working for the mob. Of course, when I told him it was me, he tried to get away.”
This last part is excruciating to hear. My fingers go numb as the words float through the air. I can barely listen to Harlan as he describes pulling the trigger.
“I honestly wasn’t expecting that much blood,” Harlan remembers with a laugh.
“You’re going to pay,” I swear. I’m beyond caring about myself at this point. I just want to see Harlan go down for murder. He’s the most vicious person I’ve ever met, capable of disguising himself as a sheep. I have to find a way to stop him, or he’s just going to continue his rampage, leaving who knows how many more people dead as a result.
The door bangs open suddenly, scaring both of us. Harlan swings the gun away from me, and I take my chance. I launch myself into the air, scrambling onto his back. He clocks me with his elbow, and I drop to the floor.
Frankie rushes to my side, bending down to make sure I’m all right. I feel his hand grasp mine, warm and strong. I don’t know whether to be happy he’s arrived or to be upset. He’s going to die along with me if I can’t figure out how to escape. Apparently, I’m not good in a fight. It didn’t take Harlan more than three seconds to neutralize me, and now he knows to watch out.
Harlan goes to the door to close it. He doesn’t want any witnesses. I’m grateful there are no innocent bystanders around for him to shoot. At least Frankie and I have some skin in the game. I would hate to be responsible for another tragic death just because some good Samaritan was trying to help. Then again, if the Samaritan happened to have a phone and could call the police, that might be helpful.
I’m reminded of the police on Andretti’s payroll, and reconsider. Maybe it’s best that we can’t alert the authorities just yet.
I glance up at Frankie, giving him a grateful smile as he helps me to my feet. He looks worried, but not afraid. I wonder if he’s been in a similar situation before. I don’t really know how extensive his involvement with the mafia is. Maybe this kind of thing is run-of-the-mill for him.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Are you all right?” he asks, concerned.
“I’m fine,” I assert, even though I’m clearly not. I’ve just been subjected to a vivid description of my brother’s murder. How could I be fine?
“Hey, lovebirds,” Harlan snaps.
“If you touch her again, I swear I’ll kill you,” Frankie growls.
“That would be difficult,” Harlan sneers, “Considering that I’m the one with the gun.”
“What do you want?” Frankie demands, putting himself between me and my former boss.
“What do you think I want?” Harlan snaps. “I’m going to bury the two of you and get back to business as usual.”
“You know you can’t do that,” Frankie insists.
“Why not?” Harlan asks.
“My father will never stop hunting you,” Frankie threatens. “And if you’re working for Andretti, you already know everything about their feud. This is personal, and you’re making it a lot more personal.”
“I know more than you think I do,” Harlan says. “I know about your tramp of a stepmother and how she bagged a mafia don as her husband.”
Frankie surges toward Harlan, but I grab him and hold him back. I don’t want to see him killed right in front of me. I’m hanging on by a thread as it is, and that would be horrific. I agree that we need to find a way to fight back against Harlan, but this isn’t it.
Harlan laughs. He waves the gun toward the couch, indicating that we should take a seat. Frankie grunts at him in a language that only men can understand. But he follows directions reluctantly, taking me by the hand and leading me to the couch.
Once we’re seated, Frankie puts a protective arm around me. I sink into his embrace, allowing myself to take some small comfort from his presence. We’re in this together. Either we find a way out, or we’ll die as one. I don’t want Frankie to be in trouble, but I have to admit, I feel safer now that he’s here. If anyone can think of a way to escape, I’m sure it’s Frankie. I just must give him time to work his magic. I’m sure he’s been in tons of untenable situations before. This is just a regular Tuesday for him, and I don’t need to worry.