Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I shove the gun into his kidney. “Enough.”
Father grunts and drops his hand to his side. “What now?” His fingers twitch as if dying to grab a weapon.
“Now you walk. Where’s Galaki?”
“On a bench nearby.”
“You have eyes on him?”
“Plenty of eyes.”
“Good. Move.”
Father heads out. I stay close to him, using my body to hide the gun from the early morning strollers and joggers. I’m sweating now, watching everyone with a critical eye, and I manage to see a couple of Father’s guys staring from a distance.
I keep the gun against Father’s back. Nobody makes a move toward us. They’re probably wondering if this is part of the plan.
It’s not, you stupid fucks.
Galaki’s sitting on a bench in the shade of a big tree. He looks startled as we approach and I jab my gun against Father, directing him to sit. I squeeze down beside him and keep the gun against his hip. There’s barely enough room on the bench for all three of us and it’s a cozy fit, but it suits my purposes.
“What is happening here?” Galaki asks in Greek. “Peter, who is this—”
“Stop it,” I say to him quietly. “I know about the ambush. Galaki, I’m sure you were already introduced when he bribed you into setting me up, but I’d like you to meet my father, Yiannis.”
“Nice to see you again.” Father gives him a pleasant smile. “This isn’t how I pictured things would go. What’s your escape plan here, Peter?”
“Shut up.” I keep the gun tight against him. “What did they offer you, Galaki?”
Galaki shifts nervously, looking around like he wants to run. “Money. Enough to cover my debts without having to run drugs. No offense, Peter, but it was a better deal.”
“None taken, although I’m not happy that you sold me out.”
“I didn’t know—”
“Shut up, Galaki. Here’s how this is going to go.” I take a breath to let things settle. I don’t have much time. Father’s guys are standing by and waiting, but eventually Rastus will get impatient. “Father, you know you’re fucked. When the Filos come to kill me, they’ll kill you in the crossfire.”
“They wouldn’t,” he says but doesn’t sound convinced.
“If we let that happen, we’re all fucked.”
“Oh, god,” Galaki groans. “Please, I didn’t mean—”
“Shut the fuck up, Galaki.” I clench my jaw and glare at him. “We’re going to stand up together. We’re going to start walking toward the far side of the park. I have a car parked two blocks away. We’ll walk to that, we’ll get in, and, Galaki, you’ll drive while I give you directions.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“This won’t work, Peter,” Father says with a sigh. “They’ll stop you before you get to the car.”
“We’ll see.” I blink sweat from my eyes. Let him think that’s all I plan on doing. We’re so close, the final steps clicking into place. I’m dead no matter what happens from here on out. “Galaki, listen closely. Your deal is fucked. They were always going to kill you. Yeah, I know, life isn’t fair, next time don’t take money from gangsters. But if you want to survive this, you’re going to cut a deal with me right now, same deal that I offered you yesterday. You’ll get paid well and you’ll fly for Le Milieu. We will protect you from scum like my old man here. Understand me?”
“Yes,” Galaki says and slumps forward. “Okay, yes, I hear you. I’ll fly.”
“Good. Now, everyone get up.” I slowly stand. Father comes with me and Galaki rises last. He looks around and I can tell he’s thinking about bolting, but once I get Father moving again, Galaki falls into line.
“Peter, I thought I trained you better,” Father says as we move at a moderate walk, and it feels like the slowest pace imaginable. “You know this can’t work. The moment we’re at the car, they’ll kill all three of us. Rastus isn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty. But if you let me radio them—”
“If you touch your ear, I’ll shoot you.”
Father snorts and smiles to himself. “You wouldn’t. Would you? Do you think you can shoot your old man?”
“Unlike you, sentiment left me a long time ago. Remember when I was eleven and you made me stand outside in the rain for three hours in nothing but a bathing suit? It was thirty-five degrees that day. I nearly died.”
“That’s what this is about? You’re mad about your childhood? Boohoo, poor Peter, Daddy wasn’t nice to you, but look at you now. You’re tougher than nails. You should be thanking me. I did the hard things and made you into the man you are today. Do you think that was easy for me, watching my boy suffer?”
I almost believe him. But then I think about the coldness in his eyes when he beat me, and any pity disappears.