Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 178343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 892(@200wpm)___ 713(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 178343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 892(@200wpm)___ 713(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Before she’s born, before she takes her first breath, I want this done.
Yeah, five long years I’ve tried to do my best to put all the old shit out of my head.
It cost a pretty penny to make today’s arrangements. And I might have to pay some favors back in the future. But it feels like it’s a necessity to do this.
The light turns green and we finally move. Forward motion. That’s what I need. I need this over and then I’ll close the book.
No, what I’m about to do won’t guarantee my daughter’s safety from evil, but it’s something I can do to make sure the world is a little better of a place before she’s born into it.
Five minutes later, the cab pulls up to the gates and I pay the driver and get out, asking him to wait, keep the meter on, and say I’ll be no more than an hour.
I have no luggage with me. I’ll go back to the hotel when this is done, in time to say good morning to Violet and my boys.
***
Thirty Minutes Later
I’m led down a stone corridor in a building that has to be five hundred years old, or older. A combination of mustiness and the aroma of loam hang in the air. The ceilings are low down here. It’s dim. And there’s an ominous presence here, too. I feel it, can nearly taste it. It’s something dark. Danger floats in the atmosphere. Maybe that’s just my old demons coming back out to play.
The old jailhouse has been turned into a museum, most of the time. But today it’s closed to the public. It’s open for me though. The caretaker turns the old key in the keyhole of the very weathered door and slides the lock over to open it.
I’ve already given him the password.
Campo one one.
Fitting. One one. Snake eyes.
“Thirty minutes?” he asks. “One hour?”
I shake my head. “Just five minutes.”
“You’re sure? I don’t want to hear anything, so I don’t want to be back too soon.”
Thirty minutes would wake the old monster that wants to keep inflicting pain. Five minutes or less and I know I’ve got to get it done and over with and I can move forward knowing it’s over before my daughter is born.
“Just five. I’m sure.”
He hands me the gun and gestures for me to enter the dim space.
In the corner sits Raymond Iadanza. He’s the same age as me, but he looks like he’s pushing fifty instead of in his early thirties. He squints.
“Figured this was coming,” he says, voice raspy. “Wasn’t sure you were still around until I got moved.”
I point the gun at him.
He smiles. He’s now got even fewer teeth in his mouth. “Obviously, Ricci didn’t succeed. You kill him? You send him somewhere like where you sent me?”
I snicker. “Actually, Violet shot him.”
He looks surprised.
“You ready?” I ask.
“It’s about time. I’m ready. This is a gift. Thank you.”
He spreads his arms wide, ready to embrace death, a smile on his face. And wherever this reaction comes from – whether it’s being tired of his shitty existence or an attempt to mindfuck me by making me rethink giving him death because he’s asking for it, I’m ready to end this game.
No more words are necessary. I have nothing to say to him. No need to taunt him. He gets nothing from me about my life with her. Not ever again. That’s not why I’m here. I’m not here to play. Not here to taunt. I’m here to end it. Is five years of living in pain, being tortured and worked half to death enough retribution for what he took from me, what he did to my beautiful girl? No. Not even close. But this needs to be over.
I flex my finger and it’s done. The bullet rips through his throat and his body jerks before he slumps, red trickling down the front of him.
I stand there, waiting for the caretaker to return. And it’s a long few minutes of eyeballing my dead nemesis. Being locked in here with him. The piece of shit that hurt her, that tried to not only do that but also to plot to take from me? He’s done. Finally.
If he hadn’t tried to fuck me over five years ago, I’d never have found out what he did eight years ago. And if he didn’t try to fuck me a second time five years ago, I might not have her.
For taking his life, I feel no remorse.
Violet doesn’t talk about him. Hasn’t mentioned him in years. Doesn’t claw at her throat when she’s anxious anymore. She’s beautiful, confident, sexy, and not remotely timid. She’s feisty when it comes to her children and her love for me.
She went back to her old company and rocked that director job until she gave birth to our first born, Chance, after which she decided she couldn’t bear to leave him with a nanny or send him to a daycare.