Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Careful, Little Moth,” he finally says, eyes locking on mine again. “That’s a dangerous game to play.”
18
CASSIAN
I’m standing in front of the fire in the great church waiting for Allegra to pack. I texted Angelo that I’d see him in Atlantic City after all.
I decided to attend and take Allegra with me in the spur of the moment. I wouldn’t normally attend any event organized by my stepfamily, but as I slip my hand into my pocket and my fingers wrap around the bullet, I know it’s a good plan. I’ll have them all in one place. I can watch them all and if I can see their faces, I’ll know.
So, I suppose the trip will serve a dual purpose. It’s me making up for the crypt. I shouldn’t have taken her down there. I should have handled that better because I didn’t intend on terrifying her. It’s also to make up for whatever that was with Jet. Why did I let him see her? I was crazed. Furious with rage at the thought of him touching her. But more at the thought that she may have wanted it.
I press my finger to the tip of the bullet in my pocket to force those thoughts away. I need to focus and so I let my mind conjure up the images of the damage this bullet could have done. Which of my stepfamily sent a loaded gun to my two-year-old nephew? They out of anyone should know I’d kill them if they got near Seth’s family.
Enzo comes around the corner, tucks his phone into his pocket.
“I thought you weren’t going to go at all,” he says. I told him to get soldiers ready for an overnight in Atlantic City. “Why the change of heart?”
“I want to see my stepfamily,” I tell him, that bullet burning a hole in my pocket. I’m not sure of my plan exactly. Am I going to confront them? And who am I confronting? Severin? Sybil?
Jet?
Jet feels like a betrayal worse than the others.
There’s no reason for them to have done this. To have sent that loaded gun. It’s just illogical.
“Anything I should know?” Enzo asks.
I glance at him, shake my head. “No, nothing. I’m taking the Ferrari.”
“Oh? Why?” he asks, and I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “I mean it’ll be easier to keep track of everything in the SUVs. Everyone knows the Ferrari.”
“I’ll be fine, and you’ll follow with the men.”
“You don’t make my job easy, Cassian.”
“You don’t do this because it’s easy, Enzo,” I say, looking over his shoulder when I hear Allegra’s combat boots on the stone floor. She’s carrying her backpack, her dark hair plaited into two thick, long braids on either side of her face. She looks curious, maybe a little excited? She’s been cooped up in here for days, so I get it. But the moment she meets my eyes, she narrows hers, her expression shifting to annoyed and, as usual, contrary. It makes me smile. “Excuse me,” I tell Enzo.
Enzo steps aside, but I don’t miss how his eyes follow mine to watch her too.
She takes in the collection of soldiers at the door.
“Don’t look so sour, Moth,” I say, taking her backpack. “Your face might freeze that way.”
She shifts her gaze to mine. “What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”
I chuckle. “Ready?”
“For a road trip with you and all your friends? I’m sure it’ll be the most fun I’ve ever had.” She’s not going to give me anything. But I don’t really deserve anything, do I?
“Come, Little Moth, I have a surprise for you.” Before she can say anything, I take her coat off the rack and drape it over her shoulders. With my hand at her back, I guide her out the door and past the two SUVs to the 1966 Ferrari 275 a soldier just drove around. I take the moment to enjoy the expression on her face, her surprise, her disbelief. Her delight?
“Mr. Trevino,” he says, handing me the keys. I take them and manually unlock the trunk to drop her bag inside.
“We’re taking that?” she asks, dragging her gaze from the car to me.
Then I remember the accident that killed her father and wonder if I’m misreading her expression.
“It’s safe,” I tell her. I’ve maintained it meticulously over the years. It’s a passion of mine and a hobby I don’t get to spend much time on. It, like cooking, relaxes me. They’re about the only things that do.
She glances at the car again before looking back at me. “It’s not that, I’m just surprised.”
I raise my eyebrows, amused. “Is it so strange?”
She walks closer to the car, rubs a smudge off the door. “I figured you’d be the obnoxious sportscar type. Not a Ferrari 275,” she says.
“You know the model?” Now it’s me who’s surprised.