Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
I cushioned his fall, allowing him to recover just a second before I did.
He struck out, landing a blow to my cheek.
Then my nose.
I felt the rush of blood, tasted it slipping in between my lips.
But the pain was just fuel.
I pulled the rebar up between us, slamming it into his throat, the force making him choke.
His hands flew to his throat as he gasped for air.
I slid out and away, getting back to my feet.
But as I raised the rebar to finally bring it down on his head with full force, he turned and fucking ran.
I followed for a moment.
But as he made his way out of the building, I paused.
I’d left Stephanie alone once before and look what happened. I couldn’t abandon her again.
With that in mind, I ran back toward that cinderblock room, rapping my hand against the door.
“Babe, it’s me. Open up. Quick.”
“Venezio?” she called, and I heard slamming and crashing sounds inside before, finally, the door opened.
And there she was.
With watery eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
But okay.
She was okay.
“He was shooting at me,” she sniffled as I reached for her, pulling her against my chest for one quick moment, needing to feel her against me to know she was genuinely alright. “I thought that maybe the cinderblocks were safe.”
“Safer than being out in the open, that’s for sure.”
“I barred the door. But he shot in. The cinderblocks were crumbling.”
“Yeah, they aren’t the rebar-enforced ones. But he wasn’t smart enough to know to keep shooting through the same hole.”
“Well, it’s good that… you’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine, but we gotta move,” I said, offering my hand to her once again.
“You see another piece of rebar or pipe as we go, grab it.”
“Where’s your gun?”
“At the fucking safe house,” I admitted.
I considered circling back.
But it was too risky.
“Where did he go?”
“Probably somewhere to try to catch his breath. Caught him in the throat with the bar. He’ll recover. Unfortunately. And he’ll be madder than ever. We gotta get moving.”
“Where?” she asked as we moved outside, going hesitantly at first as I glanced around.
“We gotta get back to Manhattan,” I said.
I knew my way around, sure. But it’s also where my people were. I had to get some fucking backup. Or, if nothing else I had to stash Steph with someone who could protect her and take off on my own.
Then deal with this once and for all.
“We could get a cab,” she suggested, even as we got back toward one of the main roads.
Steph threw her hand up in the air, but as the driver slowed near us and caught sight of me, he gunned it and took off.
“Shit. No, we’re not gonna get a cab with me looking like this.”
“Ferry?” she suggested, nodding toward the Naval Yard.
“Too late. Nothing’s going out now.”
“Subway then.”
Would people stare at me? Clutch their bags? Keep their distance? Yeah. But they’d mind their business too. You had to love that about New Yorkers.
“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding toward the subway steps at the next cross street.
“Venezio!” Steph yelped.
Then there he was.
Moving between us and the subway steps.
Not only that.
But barreling down toward us.
With something long and sharp in his hand.
We didn’t have to say anything.
We turned in unison and ran.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Stephanie
My feet screamed with each step we took, weaving up and down streets, all the while the guy seemed to be gaining on us.
I wasn’t sure Venezio had gotten as good a view of the guy as I had. But his eyes had been manic, bulging, and desperate.
And desperate men were really dangerous.
My mind flashed back to that alley, to the sound of footsteps.
I had no choice but to disobey Venezio’s direct order, turn, and run.
I wouldn’t claim to know anything about fleeing for my life, but I’d suffered through plenty of action movies with that same ex who loved mobster stuff. So I remembered how during a chase with an armed person at your heels, weaving back and forth seemed to be the preferred method of avoiding a bullet.
It seemed kind of silly to me, but as I weaved just in time for a bullet to lodge in the wall beside where I’d been, I started to see the logic of it.
From there, I honestly just moved on pure instinct. The second I spotted that building under construction, I figured it might give me a weapon or a place to hide.
Locking myself in the cinderblock room felt like my only option as my legs grew wobbly and my feet slowed me down, allowing him to gain on me.
I’d used every bit of strength I had to move a pallet full of… something in front of the door, then cowered in a back corner, praying the cinderblock could stop a bullet.
I wasn’t sure if I was hoping for Venezio to find me or that he was getting to safety himself.