Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“It’s okay,” I lied in my most soothing voice. “We’re almost done, but I need you to come here.” I extended a hand, gently asking her. I knew she wanted to run, but she couldn’t. Gio would be able to see us out the cabin windows unless she moved closer.
Her eyes were fixed on my knife. “I will. I just need a minute.”
I didn’t get nervous, but this woman obliterated everything I was used to. I backed off, and the distance between us helped draw her toward the plane. Another step, and I was sure she’d be out of view. “Are you right or left-handed? I’ve seen you use both.”
“I use my right mostly.” She’d stopped moving.
We’d stalled long enough. Time to get on with it. We were probably safe, and I couldn’t miss this tiny window or we’d be completely fucked. I lurched forward, seizing her left wrist before turning her palm up to the sky.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
I dug the knife into the heel of her palm and sliced a line all the way to the base of her fingers. I did it as fast as possible so she wouldn’t jerk and make me cut any deeper than I had to. Thick, red blood sprang from the angry wound.
It wasn’t a scream, just a loud gasp of pain and shock, and she reared back. I used her surprise to gently push her shoulders down and back, so she fell into the back seat, her head narrowly missing the frame of the roof. Lines of red flowed down through her fingers and dripped onto her lap as she sat on her dead copilot’s legs. Her hand was weeping blood, and I pressed it to her stomach.
“Hold it here, tight,” I commanded. “This is where I shot you.”
She looked too stunned to speak. I closed the knife and switched it to my left so I could draw my weapon. Cold metal felt familiar in my hand, but the guilt over the pain I’d caused her did not.
She flinched at the gunshot when I fired at the pavement, the starting pistol for my deception of Gio. I pushed her back, forcing her to lie on top of the other bloody body, disregarding her accusing look that might render me immobile.
“Close your eyes,” I urged. “No matter what happens, you don’t open them until you hear me speaking English. I just killed you, so look dead, or we’ll both be.” That was a lie. Gio would never be smart enough to get the drop on me.
Rapid footsteps pounded down the jet stairs, and I spied him dashing toward the car. “What—”
“She tried to run.” I let the comment roll off my tongue easily.
The information stopped him cold. “You killed her?”
“She was too much of a risk.”
Displeasure smeared on the bastard’s face. “What the hell? If you couldn’t have her, no one could?” He moved closer, rounding the car and peering into the open door, eying Olivia’s bloody hands clasped to the nonexistent hole in her stomach. She did her part, not moving, barely breathing.
He exhaled with disappointment. “I was going to have fun with her. What a waste.”
I still had the SIG in my right hand and the knife in my left, and for a moment I wasn’t sure which one I wanted to use on Gio more. Instead, I slammed the door shut. “I should go. Someone might have heard the shot.”
I went to the open hold and yanked suitcases out, knowing I’d have to leave Olivia’s and the crew’s behind. There wasn’t any room left in Gio’s tiny car, and what use would the dead have for their luggage? I tossed my suitcase in the passenger seat. Near the hangar, a dark car prowled forward and flashed its running lights once, signaling Gio’s ride had arrived.
“I’ll handle the rest of the luggage. Ring me when it’s done.” He was speaking of the disposal of the bodies, and then he was off, dragging his suitcase toward the car.
Getting out of the private airfield with a car full of bodies wasn’t a problem. The security guard took one look at my plates and waved me through the checkpoint. There had been no immigration officials, and no one following the car as I headed away from downtown, racing against the sunrise.
“Stay down,” I said. “Are you all right?”
She didn’t say anything.
My guilt mixed with anger. “Answer me.”
“I’ll live.” The voice was bitter, but I was grateful for it. And that was the whole point, right? That she made it out alive?
Grapevines clung to trellises that zigzagged across the hilly, lush landscape. The meet-up was ten minutes away. There was a vineyard away from the main road, and I crawled the car up the winding path, pulling in behind the main house so I was out of sight.