Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“And what about my communication with my family?”
“Nothing. You’ve barely spoken to them at all. Not even a text.”
I kiss his arm softly. “I made a mistake taking that keycard. It’s not something I’ll ever do again.”
He shifts so he can look down into my face. “I’ve done things. Some of them I’ve regretted. Some have been truly awful. My hands are far from clean. I know what it’s like to wish you could do better.” He leans down and kisses me. “I don’t need perfection from you, Charlie. I just need you.”
“That sounds fair.” I kiss him one more time before gently pulling myself away. I can tell he wishes I’d stay right there, and a big part of me wishes I could too. His eyes roam my naked body as I stretch and start gathering my clothes. “But we have more work to do now, you know that, right?”
“What kind of work?”
“Someone broke into your house. They tried to kill me.”
His expression hardens. “I know that.”
“We need to find out who it was. I have a feeling once we figure that out, the break-ins will stop.”
“You’re probably right.” He sighs, stretching, and rolls onto his side to grab his phone. “Take a look at this.”
He pulls me down next to him again, still naked. Seemingly totally comfortable with it too. Not that I can blame him. The man’s a perfect physical specimen. He shows me a map on his phone with a big light blue circle placed over Radnor, and my heart immediately skips a beat.
“Why are you showing me this?”
“Davide thinks the GPS units we took off the trucks were transmitting to a building in this area.”
My heart immediately sinks. I stare at the map, trying to come up with another explanation, but none make as much sense. “Oh, shit, Stefano…” I shake my head and zoom in slightly, down to a specific block, a specific house, one I know well. “I think I know what we’re looking for.”
Chapter 27
Charlie
Stefano drives and I give him directions. The GPS unit from the truck is in my lap, a little green light glowing at the far end. “How’s it look?” Davide asks, his voice coming through the car’s speakerphone.
“Looks like a fucking suburban neighborhood.” Stefano glares at the road like he can make it explode with his mind. “What’s the data say?”
“You’re close.” Davide sounds like he’s having fun. “Within a few miles, I think.”
“We’ve been driving in circles all morning trying to triangulate this shit.” Stefano’s impatience is starting to show. He’s a man of action and clearly hates sitting in a car going down street after street. “I thought you said you knew where you were going, Charlie?”
“I want to be sure before we just show up there.” I pat him lightly on the arm. “Come on, it’s an adventure.”
“And a fun puzzle,” Davide adds.
“You two need to rethink your definition of fun. This is just exhausting. When do I get to break something?”
“Soon,” I promise. “Davide, how close now?”
“Very close. I’m guessing a mile now.”
I sigh, staring out the window. I know these houses. I know this street, the trees, the fire hydrants. Everything about it feels so familiar.
“What’s wrong?” Stefano puts a big hand on my thigh. “Just talk.”
“When I was twelve, I rode a skateboard down that hill.” I point to a road as we roll past it. The slope is dangerously steep. “I remember barreling down, totally out of control, thinking I’m about to get hit by a car. Lucky for me, I bombed through traffic and crashed into the grass over there—” I wave a hand to our left. “And nobody touched me.”
“Lucky,” Stefano mutters. “Stupid kid shit. But I thought you grew up in the city?”
“I grew up all over the place. My family has houses everywhere. We have a condo in DC, apartments in LA and New York, vacation homes in Maine and New Jersey.”
“And houses in the Philly suburbs.”
“My dad never liked the city. He always says it’s too crowded and dirty. Too many homeless people on the streets. He talks about them like they’re rats or something. He preferred it out here. Called it more civilized.” The truck rolls along a shady, winding road toward a dead end. “They shuttled me around a lot. I was with my grandfather half the time. He was constantly introducing me to new tutors, teaching me new lessons. But every once in a while, I’d go stay with my dad out in his private house. Not that often, but maybe a few weekends every summer.”
We reach the end of the street. An enormous black fence cuts across a long driveway. Tall, mature shrubs block our view, perfectly manicured. Several trees loom above them.
And past the foliage, lost at the other end of that driveway, is my father’s personal mansion.