Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Yeah. We’ll talk about it when we get there,” Enzo says, hanging up the phone before the person on the other end can say something else.
“Who was that?” I can’t stop myself from asking.
“Jared.” Of course, I should’ve known. I should’ve known he would be the first person he’d go to after all of this.
“What did he say?”
One hand grips the steering wheel while the other ran through his dark hair, pulling on it as if to relieve some tension. His eyes capture mine in a hold so intense shivers run down my spine. I loathe him, but at the same time, my heart tugs toward him. I hate him for doing what he did. I want to forget. I want my life to be normal.
“He is mad that I left without asking for his help, but that’s not important right now. Amara, Jared found out something while he was looking for you. Something that’s going to change your life.” Balling my hands into fists, I narrow my eyes at him. He already changed both our lives forever. I’m doubtful there is anything to make it worse.
“What might that be, Lorenzo, because as of right now, nothing can make what you have done worse than what it is.” My jaw aches as I clench it. I want to lash out. Want to make him feel the same pain he caused me.
The muscles along his jaw tick with anger as he keeps his eyes on the road, ignoring my hateful comment. When he doesn’t answer me right away, it only adds fuel to the burning fire.
“Huh? Tell me, Lorenzo, because right now, there isn’t much more that can fucking go wrong. I’m homeless, parentless, and I don’t have a fucking dime to my name. Every fucking thing has been ripped from me. And the person responsible is sitting next to me being happy about all of my misery!” Every word I say flows from my lips with ease as if they have been sitting at the entrance for some time waiting to be unleashed.
Turning his face to mine, he looks at me and then back to the road before speaking.
“I’m sorry all this misfortune has happened to you, Amara.” He almost sounds sincere… almost. He isn’t sorry, and he doesn’t care. He’s proven it over and over again.
“Right.” I turn my body and mind away from him. The trees and open fields will be better company to me than the manipulating monster sitting beside me.
As the miles pass and the silence consumes us, my mind keeps drifting back to my father. I close my eyes just for a moment to relive his smile and simple touch. The way he pushed me on a swing when I was little, the times he took me to the fair, and we had ice cream on Sundays… So many happy memories snuffed out by the vile monster sitting next to me.
My father might have killed Lorenzo’s mother, and even if I didn’t agree with it, I knew there had to be a reason. Unlike Lorenzo, I knew it wouldn’t be something good. If my father worked for the FBI, there had to be a reason. It was hard enough to imagine him as someone who killed others.
Minutes pass; just as my exhausted mind begins to shut down, and my eyes close, we pull onto another road, and minutes later, into a driveway. The house is a simple cookie-cutter style looking similar to everyone else’s on the block. It definitely isn’t mafia style. Refusing to look at Lorenzo, I undo my seatbelt, open the door, and hop out. There were no other cars in the driveway, and I already hate the thought of being alone in a house with him.
Lorenzo stands in front of the car, waiting for me. The look on his face tells me he is over dealing with me. Which is fine—I’m certainly over dealing with him.
“No need to babysit me, asshole,” I say under my breath as I walk past him, completely ignoring his extended hand. The last thing I want from him is affection. I hear his intake of deep breath and his heavy steps behind my own.
My tired foot touches the top step leading up to the front door, and I reach for the handle, but the door swings open on its own before I make contact.
“Welcome. I’m so glad you’re here. We’ve been looking for you.” Jared’s voice meets my ears, and I look up to his face.
Instead of saying something bitchy, I simply keep my mouth shut as I walk past him and into what I assume is his house. It smells like a man and looks, well… like a bachelor pad. The walls are painted a deep gray, leather couches and a huge flat screen with various electronics in front of it. As I round the corner, coming to stand in the living room, I take in the kitchen. It’s simple but sleek.