Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
He narrows his eyes at me. “Like?”
Whenever I mention that I’m still looking for Rosie, they all go into overprotective mode and take turns babysitting me. Fuck knows why.
Instead, I say, “I’m going to work out and burn some of the tension away.”
“That’s good.” Christiano pats my shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”
Since I returned to work, he’s had me stay in the office at the warehouse, not sending me out to take care of my usual responsibilities.
Nodding again, I walk to my Mustang and get in. My eyes touch on Ciro and Nathan as they climb into an SUV, getting ready to follow me.
For a moment, everything becomes too suffocating and chaotic, and I breathe through it.
Christ, the pain. It’s eating me alive. I groan as the relentless agony tears through me for the millionth time.
I can’t live without you, Rosie. I’m willing to face anything on this goddamn planet, but losing you is the one thing I don’t know how to survive.
When I switch on the car, words appear on the dashboard screen.
‘LIVING ON A PRAYER.’
The next second, a song begins to play, and it shows it’s I Swear by All-4-One.
I recognize it as the Minions song Rosie serenaded me with on our last shopping trip.
The image of her being silly flashes through my mind, and it’s so fucking painful I slap my hand against my chest, right over the organ that feels like it’s been hemorrhaging non-stop.
“Rosie,” I groan as I stare at the screen, then words flash on it for less than three seconds before the usual information appears.
‘AH, HA, HA, HA, STAYIN' ALIVE.’
Goosebumps spread over my body, and there’s a weird wooshing sensation in my head, then it hits like a fucking bolt of lightning.
Rosie is sending me messages. She’s alive!
Christiano walks toward the Mustang, a frown on his forehead. “What’s wrong?”
In a stunned daze, I glance at him. “Rosie is reaching out to me.” My voice grows stronger with each word. “She serenaded this song to me.”
Christiano comes to crouch in the open door and places his hand on my thigh. “Brother. It’s just a song. You’re going to drive yourself insane if you start looking for hidden messages in every single thing.”
I indicate for him to move as I get out of the car, and pointing at the screen, I say, “There were two messages. Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin’ alive and Living’ on a prayer!”
“Aren’t those titles of songs?”
“That’s Rosie, Christiano. She used to drive me insane with songs and knows I will get the message.”
Christiano places his hand on my shoulder, his expression growing somber. “I fucking hate what this is doing to you, Enzo. Maybe take some more time off and see a therapist.”
I stare at him and realize he doesn’t believe for one second that Rosie could be alive.
Pulling away, I climb back into the car.
“Enzo!”
“Just drop it, Christiano.”
“Let me take you home,” he offers as I reach for the door.
“I’ll be fine. It was just a moment of insanity,” I lie to get him off my back. “Two hours in the gym will get my head sorted out.”
“Don’t speed,” he orders as he steps out of the way so I can pull the door shut.
I slam the car into first, and only as I drive away, I realize the song has stopped.
With my phone connected to Bluetooth, I say, “Call Dario.”
It rings but goes to voicemail. “Rosie reached out to me via songs and coded messages.” I hang up and steer the Mustang toward my apartment.
It’s been two months of not hearing her voice. Not seeing her mischievous smile. Not catching her watching me. Not touching her.
Uncle Dario gave up searching for Rosie last week because it was taking a toll on Aunt Eden, and he needed to be there for her.
Everyone thinks she’s dead. Everyone’s given up.
I can’t. I will never give up on her.
Hammering my foot down on the gas, I leave Ciro and Nathan behind in my hurry to get home so I can search the internet for any clues.
By the time I park the Mustang in my regular spot, sweat beads all over my body. I shove the door open and quickly get out before slamming it shut again and running toward the elevator. Once inside, I scan my keycard and impatiently wait during the ride to the top floor.
The instant the doors open, I run to where the encrypted laptop is lying on the coffee table. I learned a couple of things watching Uncle Dario work over the past seven weeks.
Dropping down on the couch, I open the laptop and key in the password.
Suddenly, the entertainment system turns on by itself, and my head snaps up.
For a second, there’s only the soft hum of the speakers coming alive, then the first notes of a song fill the room, and once again goosebumps erupt over my skin.