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)
“Sure, but we aren’t the only ones,” I spit, crawling away as best I can. There’s not much room. Since half the damn building is gone, the only place I can go is the edge. “Do you really think you’ll get away with this?”
“I got away with Mason, didn’t I?” His smile is… unhinged. It’s the only word that comes to mind. He’s a madman on the last thread of his rope, and every step he takes toward me sounds like a hammer nailing my coffin shut. “All you have to do is pull a few strings. Your father taught me that, actually. Throw some money at people or give them what they want, and they’ll do your bidding.”
Marco laughs, nudging his boot at my sneaker. I jerk away my leg, crawling back another few feet. I’m so close to the edge of the broken parking garage that I won’t be able to go much further. I must keep him talking, make sure he blabs long enough so I have time to think.
“And whose strings did you pull for Mason, huh?”
“Losers with criminal records are easy to bribe.” He shrugs, flicking a few pieces of misplaced hair out of his eyes. Hey, at least if I die, I have a few strands of his hair in my pocket. He won’t be getting away with both of our murders. It’s a sad price to pay for trusting the wrong person, I guess.
I push him away with all my might, but he barely goes anywhere. He laughs at my attempt, a hearty little chuckle that shows how pitiful he finds me. When Marco backs off, I scramble to my feet and back away from the edge. There’s another set of stairs behind me. If I can slowly inch that way, I might be able to make a break for it. Maybe grab a piece of concrete I can use to knock Marco over the head. I need to find the right moment.
“What do you want?”
“That’s so cliché,” Marco tsks. He takes another cigarette out of his front pocket and lights it. I inch toward the rear stairs when he takes a long drag but stops when his eyes land on me. “I thought you’d do better than some petty criminals, but I guess all you shady Godwin assholes are the same.”
“And all you fame-hungry assholes are the same,” I hiss. “Using the Godwin name for your own gain. Just so you can get some promotion.”
“Dream bigger, Fiora. Washington is just one state. Imagine what the arrest of Hector Godwin could do for my name and career. Senator Pollozo has a good ring to it, doesn’t it?”
I laugh. It hurts thanks to my aching throat, but I can’t help it. The thought is ridiculous. Sure, most senators are complete asshats with muddy backgrounds, but murder? That’s a new one.
“You know,” Marco chides, clicking his tongue as he starts stalking toward me again. “It would have been a lot easier if Mason had listened to my proposal.”
Marco’s confession confirms my earlier suspicion. Marco was the one bugging Mason before his death. God, it’s all so obvious now. How could I have missed it?
“Your proposition must have been shit then.”
Marco’s frown is sour, his words laced with heat. “He wanted your father out of the picture just as much as I did. We could have made a good team.”
Does Marco expect me to believe that shit?
“That… that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Aw, does the truth sting, Fiora?”
Marco lunges in my direction, and I yell, taking another step closer to the edge. He laughs and laughs like it’s a funny joke, but my heart beats so hard I feel faint. Fuck. He’s cornering me toward the edge of the parking garage again. Is that his plan? Make me jump? Push me off?
“Don’t you think he was tired being under Daddy’s shadow? You were the coward to run away. He was the one who had to stay and face the man. And we could have made a good team. But your stupid brother refused.” Marco takes on Mason’s baritone when he repeats, “My dad might trust you enough, but I don’t. Get the fuck away from my sister. I know what you’re doing, you pathetic little bitch, and I won’t let you have her.” He scoffs, pointing at me. “You know what I did after that? I went home and asked you for a sexy pic. And you fucking sent me one. You sent me one! So really, who is the pathetic one here?”
Mason knew? Fuck, he knew. He knew Marco was a piece of shit and protected me as long as he could. It wasn’t Papa who denied our relationship, but Mason. And how did I repay him? I ran off to Heathens Hollow without telling anyone.
But that guilt I’ve felt since I learned of my brother’s demise morphs into red hot, blinding anger. What do I have to be guilty for? It’s Marco’s fault Mason is gone. All this time I’ve been blaming myself, and for what? If I attended that game with him, I wouldn’t be here to figure out the truth. Marco would go on a free man, using our murders as a stepping-stone to further his career.