Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Thank you for being with us today, Claire. We are currently waiting for the press conference…”
Underneath the headline, it read—
“Why does it say severed limbs connected to South Philly assaults?” Mom demanded.
I scratched my nose. I had to be careful here. “From what I understand, the body parts that were found belong to the men who did that to you and the other women.”
She looked to me sharply. “And you know this how, Alfredo?”
Blergh.
“I saw it on the news.” I shrugged. “West was called in early because of it.”
I was sure he was waiting for the ratings to come in from this morning’s episode.
The screen beckoned her once more, and she covered her mouth with her hand. The two women in the studio were talking to some forensics specialist, and they were basically repeating what we’d heard since seven AM.
Dad glanced over at me. “Thank you,” he mouthed.
I nodded with a dip of my chin.
Without looking away from the TV, Mom grasped my hand.
She had tears rolling down her cheek, and I gave her hand a squeeze.
“Tell me you didn’t do this,” she croaked.
“What the—fuck no. Mom.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just—I’m sorry, baby. This is…” She let out a shuddering breath and wiped at her cheeks. “They’re dead?”
“Dead and cut up,” I said.
“Dio.” She kept shaking her head as she stared at the screen. But then she shook her head quicker and waved something off. “Turn it off, amore. I can’t. I don’t want to see.”
Dad switched off the TV and turned his chair toward her. “What can I—”
“They’re gone,” she whimpered. “They’re gone. I…I think—” She shifted in her seat to face me, and she wiped at her cheeks again. Nerves tightened inside me, and all I could do was wait her out. “Promise me, Alfie. Did—did the Sons… Did they do this?”
“How should I know? I sure fucking hope not.” I reached out and wiped a tear from her jaw. “They haven’t said anything to me.”
“Oh.” She let out a low cry and pushed herself up off the couch. “I-I need to pray. I want to go to church.”
“What—now? Why?” I asked.
“Because I need it!” She got heated, and she rounded the table and wiped her nose. “This is too much. I need to pray. It’s too much in my head. I know you are lying to me again, but the lies make me feel better. I have to see Father O’Malley.” With that said, she limped into the bedroom, presumably to get dressed.
Fuck me. I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled.
That could’ve gone a lot worse, couldn’t it?
“Not too shabby,” Dad muttered under his breath.
“Right?” I was counting this as a win.
“Phil!” Ma shouted. “Take me to church!”
I lifted my brows.
He chuckled quietly and got out of his chair. “I guess I’m taking her to church.”
“Damn mobsters,” I heard Ma cry to herself. “It will be better once I ask Father O’Malley for forgiveness.”
Whoa, what the fuck? “Forgiveness for what?” I was hurrying into the bedroom before I knew it, because I had fucking limits. She didn’t owe an apology to anybody.
“Because I am a hypocrite,” she said tearfully, removing her curlers. “I should not be happy two men are dead, no matter what they have done. But I am. I’m also so…so mad at’chu, Alfredo!” In a fraction of a second, she flipped to anger instead, and then she was waving a fist in my face.
“Ay, put down your weapon, Ma.” I lowered her hand and held it. Part of me—fuck, sorry, but I wanted to laugh. She was too cute. “What did I do?”
“I don’t know,” she wept. “You should come with me to church.”
Fuck no, I’d been there two days ago for Mass. That was plenty. I’d almost fallen asleep, too.
“Or we can do something productive with our time,” I offered.
She glared at me for that. “I think we both know you need to ask for forgiveness too.”
“For what?” I widened my arms. “You know what I think?” I dropped my arms again and took a step closer to her. “I think it’s time you meet them properly. Liam, Finn, Kellan… And not the stiff nods when you accidentally pass them outside church on Sundays.”
She scoffed. “You are crazy. You want me to think they’re nice, yes?”
“I want you to get to know them,” I corrected. “Let their charms cloud your judgment until you can’t wait to see Emilia and the little ones for another birthday party or barbecue. Trust, it worked on both West and me.”
At least Dad thought I was funny.
Mom, on the other hand… She stalked into her closet, probably to find a dress for church, and she was in there for approximately two seconds. Then she rushed out again and came toward me, not stopping until she had her arms around my midsection.