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)
“And if I don’t?” I challenge. “What are you going to do, throw me out of the car?”
“There’s plenty of other things you can do with a car.”
Someone behind us honks, but I barely hear it. Marco’s words swim through my head, replaying again and again. Normally such an innocent statement wouldn’t mean shit, but clearly Marco has a vendetta against our family. Which means…
No. It can’t be.
“You killed Mason.”
It slips out as a whisper. Someone behind us honks again. Marco ignores me, checking his rearview mirror as he fishes in the front pocket of his plaid button-up for a cigarette. Why isn’t he answering?
Marco lights the cigarette and cuts across two lanes so quickly I grab the safety handle. Someone behind us honks again, but I barely hear it. Blood rushes to my brain, my heartbeat drumming in my ears.
Some guy bugging Mason before his death. The case getting stalled. Marco ignoring my pleas for justice. His anger when I kept pressing the issue. His blowup at the restaurant.
His plans.
“You killed my fucking brother.”
Marco takes a drag of his cigarette, looks right at me, and smirks. “Took you long enough.”
I move before I think. I launch myself at Marco and grab onto his hair, tugging as hard as I can. Marco’s head bounces off the driver’s side window, and he jerks the car to the left. His car swipes another before he rights it, and the honking grows louder.
I’m going to fucking kill him. Rage boils my blood and makes my hands shake. I punch Marco as hard as I can, over and over and over. He killed Mason. He took my brother from me. Marco tries to fight me off with one hand, but I hold steady, scratching and pulling until strands of his hair are in my sore fists.
Someone is screaming. I think it’s me, but I can’t be sure. I go for his eyes, ready to scratch his eyeballs out. But I’m cut off with an elbow to my jaw and a punch to the side of my head. The moves stun me long enough for Marco to push me back into my seat.
“You bitch! You’re fucking dead, you hear me? Dead!”
Nausea churns in my stomach and I gag, bile and blood ready to spill all over Marco’s floor. Someone is drilling into my skull over and over. Bang. Bang. Bang.
No, wait. Honk. Honk. Honk.
“Fuck me,” Marco whispers, reaching past me to get into his glove box.
I take my chance and reach out for his arm, biting as hard as I can. Marco cries out in pain, swerving the car so hard I go flying. My head bounces off the glass, and I fall limp into the seat, the fight drained from my tired body.
“Insistent fucking bastard. Say goodbye, Fiora.”
With bleary eyes. I glance into the side view mirror.
Braken’s car is right behind us. Braken is coming for me. The small piece of hope I have is dashed the second Marco pulls a siren from the glove box. He cracks his window, throws it onto the top of his car, and turns it on. Police sirens ring out and make me wince in pain.
The flashing lights and loud siren make the freeway part like the Red Sea.
Marco hits the gas as fast as he can, weaving through the line of cars.
I can only watch helplessly as the outline of Braken’s car grows smaller and smaller, sealing my fate.
Chapter 38
Fiora
Marco’s grip is so tight on my wrist I can barely feel my fingers.
The parking garage is empty. Nothing’s around but excavators and cigarette butts. Half of the structure is already bulldozed, but the other half remains standing. Marco drags me up the broken staircase, not bothering to stop whenever I trip on a loose rock or knock a body part against the sharp turns. Why would he? He’s already battered and bruised me. What’re another few bruises and scratches?
When we first pulled up, I allowed myself the smallest bit of hope. Excavators meant construction workers. Well, it should have, but it means shit now. The lot is completely abandoned for the weekend. Just my luck. I’m sure Marco had something to do with it. Now I’m stuck biding my time, searching for the best escape route. Kind of hard to do when your throat aches from choking and your head pounds from a solid beating. Still, I won’t go down without a fight.
I refuse to die here without taking Marco with me.
Once we hit the garage’s top floor and reach open air again, Marco jerks me forward so that I fall onto my knees. I hiss at the pain but ignore it. When I turn onto my butt to face him, Marco is smirking.
“You know, your entire family is fucking stupid.”
It’s the first thing he’s said to me since he took off down the highway, using the police siren to make a getaway.