Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I don’t understand myself why I did it—why I married her—because I’ve known all along this isn’t my reason. I never had any intention of working with the cartel. I never planned for any future after killing Rinaldi.
Not that I ever contemplated suicide. Not consciously. It’s more that after Rinaldi, after avenging my family’s murders, the picture ends. There is only a void.
Or there was. Until Scarlett.
And whether he realizes it or not, it’s what has kept me focused on the task. The thing that’s kept my determination sharp.
But when the possibility of a future with Scarlett comes up, it muddies the waters. When it comes to Dante, I feel guilt at my choice. At what I’ve known for a long time. But with Scarlett, it’s different. My guilt for Dante is to live to spare him pain. With Scarlett, it’s to live. To really live.
“I wasn’t going to let her die,” I say finally.
The phone in my pocket buzzes and I dig it out, turning away.
Lenore enters the living room from the kitchen carrying a tray of coffee. I walk toward my study to take the call. It’s Charlie.
“I’ve got something for you,” he says.
“Am I going to like it?”
“I doubt it. You alone?”
“Yes.” I close the door to my study.
“Jacob De La Cruz had a text about two hours after the wedding.”
I swallow the last of my whiskey, feel the burn down my throat. “Go on.”
“It’s an address. You can figure out which. And one sentence.”
“What’s the sentence?”
“Remember what we agreed.”
I grind my teeth together. “And the sender?” I’m pretty sure of his answer but I ask anyway.
“Burner phone. Untraceable.”
My mind goes to Alec. To how he’s injured but not dead. If the others had been killed differently, a gun fight, I’d understand how he survived. It would make more sense. But this? Him shot in the arm and the leg when everyone else took a bullet to the back of the head? It doesn’t fit.
“Thank you, Charlie. You’ve been a great help.”
“I’ll keep looking, see if I can find anything else.”
I disconnect the call and go to the window. From here I can see the shoreline, the rocky beach. Cerberus comes running around the corner of the house, tongue hanging out as he charges into the water. I smile when I see him. I love his innocence. It’s something I lost a long time ago. But it’s not only innocence that I envy. It’s his freedom.
Lenore walks out behind him. She’s pulling on a sweater and hugging her arms to herself as she watches Cerberus. I’m about to go back into the living room when I see my uncle walk around the corner. He’s got his hands pushed into the pockets of his slacks.
It surprises me he’d go out there. First, he doesn’t like the beach. Second, he isn’t a fan of Cerberus and Cerberus is certainly not a fan of him.
I watch them together for a minute, but Lenore and my uncle keep their gazes on either the dog or the water. They exchange a few words, but their expressions remain the same. I don’t like something about the exchange though. I don’t know what it is, but it rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it’s my uncle’s disdain for the help. But he’s different with Lenore, isn’t he? She’s more family than anything else. And even if she won’t say it, I know Lenore isn’t exactly my uncle’s cheerleader.
Maybe I’m overthinking it.
Lenore must call to Cerberus because he emerges from the waves, shaking himself out when he’s nearer my uncle. I smile. He’s predictable and steadfast in his likes and dislikes.
My uncle’s expression changes, and I can almost hear the curse he mutters as he wipes water off his slacks before he turns to walk back into the house.
Lenore bends to pet Cerberus, offering him a treat from the pocket of her apron before taking him back into the house.
I check my watch, doing the math to figure out what time it is in Mexico, not that I give a fuck. Pushing the button on Jacob De La Cruz’s phone, I call Felix Pérez.
“Jacob,” he answers on the second ring. He sounds lazy. “Is it done?” I hear him take a drag on a cigarette.
“Jacob’s dead.”
He clears his throat and I imagine him sobering up real quick. It takes him just a moment to get his shit back together.
“Cristiano Grigori,” he says knowingly.
“It’s about time we talked. You and me.”
“I’d say it’s past time.”
“You asked if it was done when you answered the call. If what was done? Kidnapping my wife?”
“In fact, I just heard of your happy nuptials. Congratulations,” he says, sounding more collected. More cocky.
“Answer. My. Question.”
“I assume you got her back if you’re calling. If Jacob did this, then he acted outside of my authority.” I wonder if he ever gave a shit about his father-in-law. I get the feeling that answer is a no.