Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 30253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Suddenly, Kristi heaves one of the bed pillows at Sal’s head. What the hell is she doing?
The unexpected projectile rattles him. He sputters and shoots it, sending feathers spewing everywhere.
And once they clear the air, she’s pointing the Glock I left right at him. Then she does one better and pulls the trigger.
God, I love this woman.
The night I met Kristi, I loved that she was my opposite. Soft, sweet, kind, considerate. She didn’t have a mean or sarcastic bone in her body. Besides having great tits, she had a big, open heart under them. She’s got a gentle sense of humor and a thoughtful way of looking at the world that makes me look differently at everything, even myself. What I didn’t know about her? When life gets rough, she womans up—and she does it right.
There’s a gaping hole in Sal’s middle. It hasn’t killed him outright…but if I leave him here, either the feds will find him or he’ll bleed out. I take his weapon from his hands, deciding I’m good either way.
“Son of a…” As Sal clutches his middle and falls to the carpet, Vincenzo seems totally shocked—and distracted.
I take advantage of the moment to whap the punk in the cheek with the butt of my gun. He grunts. I catch a fistful of his greasy hair with my free hand and pound him face-first into the nearby door with a thud.
Vincenzo crumples to a heap.
Smiling, I turn back to Sal and gesture to his gaping wound. “That must hurt like a bitch. It sucks to be you.” I shrug, then I divest all three mobsters of their cell phones and dump them in the toilet. “Come on, ladies. Let’s go.”
“What the fuck?” Sal chokes out. “You can’t just leave me.”
“I can. See, the feds are about to raid this place. I’m getting the fuck out and taking these two, along with the little boy Donzelli molested last night, with me.”
Kristi pales, and Sammie gasps in horror.
“That’s bullshit!” Sal chokes.
“I wish it was. But video of it is making the rounds. No one is going to lift a finger to work for Marco Donzelli then. Not that it will matter because his ass will be in prison. Yours, too—if you survive. Bye. Happy fuck off.”
I motion to the girls to follow. They do, staying behind me.
When I bust out of the room, Vincenzo’s pal is waiting with a frown. “What’s going on? There were gunshots.”
I point my weapon in his face. “There will be more if you give me shit.”
He swallows. “No, sir.”
“Good. Come here.”
The guy hesitates. Does he understand that since I emerged from the room unscathed, I’m the badass here?
“I won’t shoot you if you fucking listen,” I say.
Nervously, he nods and sidles closer. Yeah, he’s a lot less brave without backup.
“Empty your pockets. Put all your weapons here.” I point to an old decorative table.
Vincenzo’s pal reaches into his cheap suit and pulls out a couple of semi-automatics and a tricked-out knife, then sets them down.
A glance verifies Kristi is still holding my Glock. “Cover me?”
She nods, and I search the wise guy. He looks so young. Is he even old enough to legally order a beer? I don’t think so, but at least he’s honest. His pockets are empty.
“Do something better with your life. This shit just leads to the big house, kid.” Then I push him into 810 with the others.
As he’s sputtering, I ensure the door is locked from the outside, then swivel back to Kristi. “The feds will be here in”—I glance at my phone—“eight minutes. One more stop.”
I let myself into 804. The girls follow. The room is dark. The little boy is asleep in the middle of the still-made bed. And he’s naked.
My chest clutches.
“Is he okay?” Kristi asks, her voice trembling.
I lift the child and hold him against my body. He’s still warm, still breathing. That’s something. The fact he doesn’t even move tells me he’s probably been drugged again.
Hang in there, little guy.
“Hopefully, he will be.” Since there’s no sign of his clothes, I need help. “Get the sheet off the bed, will you?”
She does.
Sammie rushes to help. “Oh, I saw that poor kid in the basement. I heard the short guy say he was a drug addict’s kid. Did that mafia guy really…?”
“Yeah, but we’re going to get him to safety.” Thankfully, Kristi and Sammie hand me the sheet, and I wrap it around his body, holding him protectively. “Let’s go.”
There’s no one waiting in the hall. And except for the mechanical whirl, the elevator ride straight to the lobby level—thanks to Donzelli’s private code—is jarringly quiet.
“Thank you,” Kristi mutters. “I didn’t think we were getting out of there alive.”
There were a few moments I was worried about that, too. But they’re behind us, and the future is what’s important now. “I was always getting out with you, Little Red.”