Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Truth hurts,” he cuts in. I wince when he lays on the horn to make the semi move. “I just call it like I see it.”
“Then let me call it like I see it. You’re a jealous pissant with a small dick who—”
Marco shoots out his hand and wraps his fingers so tightly around my throat I can’t breathe. He looks like a wild animal, eyes wide and bloodshot, black hair messy and sticking up, teeth bared. I punch and claw at his hands but it’s no use. He keeps hold on me until I’m light-headed, my vision going blurry.
I’m going to die here. Marco is going to kill me and dump my body in the Sound. All because I didn’t fucking choose him. Before she died, Mama always told me to trust my intuition. She said it is a girl’s best weapon in all the darkness.
How could my intuition have been so fucking wrong?
“Marco,” I beg, the word half-whisper, half-cough.
Behind us, three people lay on their horns. The stretch of highway in front of us is open. It’s the only reason Marco lets go. I crumple against the cool glass of the passenger’s seat door, my entire body shaking with my coughs. I try to suck in a few breaths, but it’s too painful. No more stoking his anger. Rule number one is keeping him calm so I can find an escape route. At least until I can get to rule number two: run like hell.
“All those years I wasted trying to get in your graces and your pants,” he mocks. “And for what? You’re a traitorous bitch, Fiora. Throwing yourself at the first rich man who gives you the time of day. How’s his dick taste, huh? Rich and bougie?”
I stay silent. Think, Fiora, think. Back to Denny’s. Marco pleaded to go elsewhere. I said no. Someone slammed a car door. Marco looked over. I saw stars. And then…
“Have your bitch on our tail, huh? Get in, Fiora.”
I intake a sharp breath.
Braken.
I scan the side view mirror. Is he following us? Was he there the whole time? I can’t make out his car in the traffic behind us, but there are so many cars. It’s rush hour now, and we are barely inching along. He and Jasper could be somewhere back there, coming for me.
But what if they’re not? What if it’s too late? What if I’m left to fend for myself because of Friday night traffic?
I must search for Braken for a moment too long, because Marco swings out a hand and manages to backhand my temple. I yelp in surprise, shrinking away from him.
“I knew you were having us followed, you bitch. All you know how to do is ruin my plans. All my effort, fucking wasted.”
His plans? What does that mean? Clearly whatever “plan” he had in that fucking Denny’s parking lot went south. But that’s only one, and he used the plural. What could the others be?
As Marco swerves around a truck, I think back to the first time we met. He sat next to me in class and struck up an easy conversation. He was older, but apparently, he finally knew what he wanted… only to drop out at the end of the semester to become a cop.
God, it’s so fucking obvious.
“You knew who I was, didn’t you?”
Marco barks out a laugh. “Sweetheart, everyone knows who you are. Why do you think they kiss your ass?”
So much for not caring about family. That was the only thing Marco cared about. What else was a lie? His affection? His appearance at the charity auction? Every time he gave a shit about me?
The truth cages me in more than this shitty car. I don’t know who Marco Pollozo is, and I’m stuck here with a strange madman.
I pat the pocket of my jeans and curse. My phone isn’t there. It’s in my purse, which I dropped when Marco pushed me into the car. If I can figure out where we’re going, I can formulate a plan and get out of this mess.
I need to keep him talking.
“What else are you going to tell me, huh, Marco? Might as well lay it all on the table now.” I try the door handle again with no luck. “Are you stalking me?”
“Stalking is a crime. Tailing is my job.”
I scoff. “Is that why you became a cop? To skirt the law?”
“I became a cop to put away pieces of shit like you and your family.”
I force myself not to roll my eyes. I don’t want to do anything that triggers his anger.
“So what, put us away so you can suck the dick of the commissioner and get a promotion?”
“That’s your job, not mine.” Marco gives me a toothy grin. That same grin used to fill my stomach with butterflies, but now it only fills me with dread. “Now shut your damn mouth. You talk way too fucking much.”