Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
“We have to carry the dog to the car,” Alessio said.
“It’ll be too painful for him.”
“Let me grab my kit from the car,” Massimo said and jogged away. Alessio grabbed his lighter from the ground and lit a cigarette before he walked around the burned body, shaking his head.
Nevio still only watched me.
The stench of burnt flesh registered on me for the first time. My chin was sticky. I wiped at it with the back of my hand and even in the dim street light I could tell it came away stained with blood.
I dropped my hand, felt the terrifying urge to get rid of this limb, somehow. My eyes darted to Nevio’s knife that he was still holding in his hand. He clucked his tongue, bringing my focus back up to his face. He pocketed the knife then came over to me, got down on his knees and ripped a piece off of his shirt, then rubbed first my hand then my chin clean with it.
He motioned at the bodies. “These are mine.”
I didn’t understand.
“Forget what happened. They are on me.”
“No,” I said, still patting the dog’s neck.
“Don’t argue. My darkness spilled over. It wasn’t you.”
Was it Nevio’s darkness? Or was it mine?
Massimo jogged over to us, pulled a syringe from his medical kit and injected the dog. Then he prepared an infusion which he attached to the dog’s front leg. I watched but didn’t ask. I knew what they were doing by night, and these tools usually weren’t for saving a life.
I got up, feeling hollow. My always overactive mind was quiet. My legs were steady. My body didn’t react as it should with revulsion, with heart pounding and sickness, with cold sweat and goose bumps. In that moment I felt nothing. I was empty, as if everything that had made me me had been erased by what I’d done.
Massimo picked up the dog and I carried the infusion. Nevio never left my side, watching me as if he worried I’d break down. I wouldn’t. Not today.
I rode in the truck bed beside the dog and touched her neck to assure myself that she was still alive while I held the infusion up. The dog was breathing slowly but steadily, relieved of its pain. She was black with a few random white spots like a cow. “I’ll call you, Dotty, okay? You’re going to live with me and my family, and no one’s ever going to dare hurting you again.”
We arrived at the designated meeting space a few minutes later. Our Camorra doctor and a nurse were already waiting for us there. But so were Dad and Savio.
I could see the concern on Savio’s face. Maybe one of the boys had sent them a text or called them, and told them what had happened. The nurse and doctor rushed forward with a stretcher, not questioning why they had to take care of a dog. I handed the nurse the infusion and hopped off the truck bed. Massimo had already walked over to Savio and Dad, and was talking to them.
“You have blood on your face, let me take a look at you to make sure you’re not hurt,” the doctor said, reaching out for me without permission.
“No,” I growled, backing away. “I’m fine, it’s not my blood.” I swallowed and smiled weakly at him, motioning at the dog. “Please take care of her.”
When I looked up from Dotty, Dad’s gaze hit me and I lowered my eyes to my feet. I swallowed thickly.
I focused on Dotty and followed the doctor and nurse inside the former warehouse now hospital unit. I sank down on a hard plastic chair and watched as the doctor got to work. X-Rays, ultrasound, examination of the burns and broken bones.
Raised voices drew my attention to the front of the warehouse where Dad was obviously arguing with Nevio. It wasn’t Nevio’s fault. Savio headed for me with a reassuring smile. He squatted before me as if I was a small kid. In their minds I’d probably never lost the status of one, because they thought I was frail and breakable. Innocent. Kind.
I hoped Dad would take a close look at what I’d done, so he’d stop putting me on a pedestal.
“Hey, dollface, how ya doing?”
Dollface. That was still his nickname for me, and sometimes the rest of my family used it too. Because I was pretty and tiny. Because I was sweet. Because I seemed breakable at first glance.
“I killed a man today by burning him alive,” I said because it was the only answer I could give Savio at the time. I didn’t feel much of anything at the moment.
Savio nodded, still smiling. He touched my hand which rested on my leg. “Yeah, so we heard.” He tilted his head. His brown eyes remained kind. He didn’t look disgusted, only worried.