Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
As his house and barn come into view, I hear a shotgun blast, and my mouth goes dry. My heart stops and my focus narrows to a pinprick.
If he’s fucking touched her, I’ll kill him. I’ll fit him for a pair of concrete shoes, cut a hole in the ice on Lake Harpon and drop him in.
I leave the Titan running, hop out into the snow as the vehicle’s propeller slows, and I grab my pistol from my waistband.
I sprint toward the barn where the shot rang out.
“Get out of the fucking way, girl.” Mort’s slurred voice sounds triumphant as he shouts. “That reindeer has crossed my fence for the last fucking time!”
“No. You will have to shoot me first.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as I hear her voice.
“If you don’t get your ass out of my way, I’ll do just that.”
I burst through the door behind Mort as the snow starts to fall, giant flakes coming down wet and heavy as the promised Christmas blizzard begins.
My gun is raised, my arm locked, my years on the streets come flooding back as I wrap both hands around the grip of my Glock. “Drop the shotgun, Mort. You raise it against my granddaughter again and you’ll die where you fucking stand.”
“Your granddaughter…” He turns to spit, and my finger tightens on the trigger as he lets the barrel of his gun drop an inch. “Your granddaughter brought one of your fucking reindeer onto my land, Sabato. I told you what would happen if I caught any of them here again. Fucking reindeer poop all over the place. I’m going to dine on venison tonight.”
“You will not!” Carina screams, her hands around Leonardo’s neck as he paws at the ground, vapor snorting from his nostrils. “He’s my friend. If I had a gun right now, I’d blow your fucking balls off, you wrinkled up old fucking backwoods bastard.”
“Friend.” Mort screws up his nose as he turns back to stare at her. “You hear this, Sabato? Your granddaughter a little slow in the head or something? She’s got a right nasty mouth there, too. Deer ain’t your friend, you stupid girl. Deer are meat, simple as—”
I charge at him as Carina does the same, hurling curse words as I whip my gun across the back of his head, a crack sounding out as the butt hits his skull, then he goes down with a thump onto the dirty barn floor. Carina scurries my way, throwing her arms around my neck and burying her face in my chest.
“I wanted to be the one to drop him. I know what you mean now about that protective instinct. He was going to hurt my family, and no one hurts my family.”
“That’s right, baby. Next time, honeysuckle. I promise. I’ll give you the honors.”
Her honey brown eyes sparkle as I run my lips over her forehead and I say the words I should have said over and over until she knew they were true. “I love you,” I whisper as Leonardo steps forward, dropping his head to nuzzle at Mort’s face, then turning around, raising his tail and—
“I love you too, Papa.” She giggles as she watches Leonardo’s shit land in a steaming pile on Mort’s chest. “So, so much.”
“Come on, baby. I have a lot of fixing to do.”
The Frost Titan rumbles and lurches as we make our way back through the blizzard. The wind is howling and the snow is coming down hard and sideways, but inside the cockpit it’s warm and comfortable, and I know Carina is safe.
Leonardo is tucked into the cargo hold, snug with plenty of straw to keep him comfortable and a bucket of alfalfa cubes to keep him calm.
As for Mort…
When he came to, he found himself tied to a beam in his barn, wrists numb from being hauled up above his head. The wound I gave him was only superficial, but the terror in his eyes was very real.
Between us, Carina and I made sure he knew what would happen if he ever stepped out of line again.
She gave as good as I’ve ever seen, and I’ve got to say I couldn’t be prouder of my girl. She reminded him that we’re a mafia family, that we have connections, and no fear, and that we have a deep lake right on our property.
“I’m sorry,” she says, staring at her hands as she warms them between her legs, the tape on her bandage curling at the ends reminding me, I need to make sure I tend to it when we get home. “I shouldn’t have run off like that. It was a shock, I…” She draws a deep breath. “I’m understanding the life our family has lead more. It feels different now.”
I nod. It’s a truth I learned a long time ago, but not one that can ever be forced. “You know how the mafia started in this country? In my own grandfather’s day, there were neighborhoods the police wouldn’t go near. There was lawlessness. Murder. Innocent people being harmed daily. So they started to protect themselves. My grandfather and his brother organized their own kind of militia, and that grew into something else, but they never forgot where they came from, that they were there to protect those who had nowhere else to go. They took care of the neighborhood.”