Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
He went too far. He’s my father and I’m supposed to love him, but I hate that piece of shit. I’ve always hated him, even as a little kid. We worked well together and he took care of me, taught me his trade, and made me the man I am today, but I despised him. Because of him, the darkness ruled my life, pushed me to do things I wouldn’t normally do.
But it doesn't rule me anymore. That much has become clear to me. The darkness is silent as I put the car in park and stare at the trailer. Part of me is afraid that it’s just biding its time, waiting for the perfect time to come back to the surface, but I can’t live my life assuming that will happen.
I have Grace now. I have my princess. Watching her in danger, knowing I couldn’t save her, it destroyed that part of me. It shattered its very existence. She’s the cure I’ve needed all my life. And I’ll never let her go. I know I need her, although I don’t know why. It has something to do with my desire to take care of her, to bathe her, feed her, clothe her, and to give her pleasure. I finally have a reason to exist outside of my own desires. I have someone else to satisfy now.
I pull up outside of his trailer and park just across from his door. His truck is in its usual spot to the right, so I know he’s home. I slowly climb out of the truck, a shotgun slung over my shoulder.
“Bruno,” I call out. “Come outside.”
There’s silence from the trailer. I can imagine what he’s thinking. He’s probably watching me, shocked, not sure what to do. He knows why I’m here, but I don’t know what he’s going to choose.
“Bruno,” I yell again. “Come face me. Come face the son you left for dead.”
Slowly, the front door opens. My father steps out, his boot heavy on the ground, his eyes haunted as he stares at me.
He’s visibly drunk. I bring the shotgun down into my hands and point it at his chest. He stumbles down off the bottom step wearing a beer-stained white wife beater and torn jeans. His eyes are red-rimmed and bleary as he steps toward me, his head cocked.
Fucking hell. He’s been on a bender, that’s for sure. Probably since the second I got taken. Maybe that should make me feel better, that my father does have some humanity left inside of him however buried, but it doesn’t. I don’t give a fuck about what’s left of this husk of a man I once looked up to.
“How?” he croaks.
“You underestimated me,” I say.
“No,” he whispers. “I didn’t.”
“You did. You left me for dead. You sold me to the Rossis. But unfortunately for you, the Rossis made a different deal.”
“Gio,” he says, stepping toward me. “My son. I never sold you out. Never.”
“Liar,” I say in a strong, even voice that doesn’t reflect what I’m feeling. Doubt is creeping in. I want to believe him, but I know he’s lying
“How could I do that?” he asks. “You’re my son, my flesh and blood. Please son, you have to believe me. I never would do that. Never.”
“Liar,” I say again, my finger steady on the trigger.
He comes closer and closer. I don’t move the shotgun. Finally, the barrel is directly against his chest and he takes his hands, wrapping them around the barrel. He stares at me, his eyes wide, and I think I can see tears starting to form
He speaks with his forehead pinched. “I raised you. I taught you everything I know. I turned you into a man.”
“You destroyed me,” I say.
His eyes go wide as he understands what I’m about to do. I feel hollow, nothing but empty, and the darkness isn’t there. I expected it to be, but it never appears. No anger, no emotion but an empty void. He’s nothing to me. This is nothing to me.
“Goodbye, father,” I say beneath my breath.
“Son--” The smile slips from his face.
I pull the trigger. The shotgun explodes into his chest, forcing him back. Blood splatters in all directions as his chest caves in. He slams to the ground with a single gasp, and then he lies still.
I walk over to his body, press the gun against his heart, and fire again. Just to make sure that bastard’s dead.
I stand over my father’s bleeding corpse and stare at his lifeless eyes. In all my years with him, I never once imagined it would end up like this. I always thought we’d die on a hit or rot away in prison. Never once did I think I would kill him. I never imagined I could betray him.
That changed when he betrayed me. He was dead as soon as he made that decision. Or maybe it happened sooner than that. Maybe Grace showed me what it means to be a real man, to stand up for what you believe in, to protect things you care about. Before I lived for cash and hits and that was it. But now I live for her.