Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
No, but apparently, Benito was. “Why don’t we sit down and talk this out like civilized people?”
He raised his gun, and for a moment, I thought it was all over for me, then he fired at the rope holding me up. I fell to the ground, banging my head on a rock hidden in the grass.
Fuck, that hurt.
The yard spun around me as I fought to sit up. I couldn’t afford to look weak while facing down Benito.
“On your feet,” he ordered. His gun was pointed directly at my heart. “Marshall?”
A few seconds later, a huge man clomped out onto the porch. “Yeah, boss?”
“Rid this gentleman of his weapons.”
Marshall didn’t worry about gentleness. He jerked me around until he’d found the guns and knives I’d carefully strapped to my body before leaving home.
Benito smiled. “Those are some nice weapons. They’ll make great additions to our collection. Marshall, go put them away.” Marshall stared at the guns for a few moments, obviously moving slower than Benito liked. “I said get the fuck in the house and put them up!”
The way Benito swung from pretending to be a gentleman to screaming like a psycho was unsettling as fuck. I was in a hell of a lot of trouble.
Why had I needed to prove I could take control?
I could’ve just talked to Val. Could’ve even talked to my dad, but no, I needed this to be my mission, my call. Now, no one knew where I was, and I had a feeling Benito was not going to take me up on my offer to negotiate.
“Get inside,” Benito ordered.
For now, I needed to do as he said, so I walked to the porch, climbed the steps, and entered the kitchen. Benito pressed something to his left, and a hidden panel slid open, revealing a set of stairs.
I frowned. “I’d prefer to have our discussion right here.”
“Marshall, take him down to the basement.”
That sounded seriously bad. “Listen, there’s no reason to act like this. I came here in good faith to negotiate.”
Benito shoved me. I tried to grip the doorway to keep from falling down the stairs, but he slammed his gun down on my fingers. I slipped, tumbling over backwards.
When I hit the concrete floor at the bottom, I tried to raise my head. Footsteps banged down the stairs. Marshall stood over me, holding a length of rope. At least if he was going to tie me up, that meant Benito didn’t intend to kill me immediately. I tried to push myself up, but my hand slipped out from under me. The concrete was cool under my cheekbone, and all I wanted to do was sleep.
Would I ever see Zeke again?
28
ZEKE
How the hell was I supposed to focus on the game? I’d thought last night’s game was going to be difficult, but tonight Vito would be God knows where planning to take down Benito. I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again.
I was hoping that, like before, I’d be swept away by the excitement of the crowd and the thrill of skating out to their cheers. Hearing the fans go wild would never get old. It was a dream I’d had for so long and every time it felt like the first time.
I’d finished my off-ice warm-up and was about to go put on my gear. Then I heard my phone ringing from inside my locker. Before meeting Vito, I would’ve ignored it. But now, especially knowing what was happening tonight, I couldn’t.
I pulled it out and saw a number I didn’t recognize, but instinct told me I needed to answer it. “Hello.”
“Zeke? It’s Liam.”
“What’s wrong?” I knew immediately Liam wouldn’t be calling me if there wasn’t a serious crisis.
“It’s Vito. He didn’t show up when he was supposed to, and Lucien just got a message that Benito has him.”
“Oh my God. What?”
“Benito’s saying we have to meet his demands if we want to see Vito again.”
“So meet them.”
“It’s not that simple. There’s very little chance Benito will actually let him go.”
“Then I’ll trade myself for him.”
“Absolutely not. Vito would never want that.”
“I need to help find him.”
“Your game is about to start. I just wanted you to know that—”
“No. Where are you? I’m going to meet you. I don’t care about the fucking game.”
“Zeke, you could lose your place on the team.”
“Vito is more important.” That was as clear to me right now as anything had ever been, as clear as my dream to be in the NHL. I loved playing hockey, but I would give it all up for him. I didn’t know how it had happened, but in that moment, I believed what he’d been telling me. We were meant to be together.
“Zeke, he doesn’t want you in danger.”
“I’ll go looking for him on my own if you don’t tell me where you are. Wouldn’t you do the same for Val?”