Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Simon laughs and leads me back to the front yard. He lights a rag and throws the Molotov cocktail at the roof, and his aim is damn good. It lands on the single, shatters, and flames spread all over.
I throw the next one through the living room window. It breaks and the smell of burning wood and drywall floods out to the street. We throw the next two in quick succession, and the house is an inferno by the time we’re walking back to the car, keeping it as casual as we can. In a few minutes, the neighbors will start waking up, and we don’t want to draw any attention.
“Good job tonight,” Simon says as he drives back toward the oasis. “This was just the start, but I’m impressed.”
“My people know what they’re doing.”
“I’m glad.” He glances at me and looks serious as he navigates through the city. Sirens begin to wail nearby, but he doesn’t hit the accelerator, only keeps on going like it’s no big deal. “You and Elena seem like a good match.”
I glance out the window. “Maybe. Not sure yet.”
“You’re staying at her place,” he points out. “Elena’s a social butterfly, but she never lets people stay at her place.”
“We’re trying to figure out how to make this work. That’s all it is.”
Simon’s quiet for a few more turns, but once the oasis comes into sight, he slows down and looks at me again.
“It’s okay if it surprises you,” he says and seems more pensive than I’ve ever seen before. “I was surprised when it happened to me. When Emily and I worked through our shit together. It’s alright if you don’t expect it, but Elena’s a good person. Don’t make her fight too much.”
I make a noncommittal noise in the back of my throat and he pulls down the street and drops me off outside of the house. He just waves as he goes to park, and I walk into the dark entryway, trying not to make any noise.
He’s right though. Elena’s a good person. She’s an extremely good person—and I worry every day that I won’t be enough for her. But it doesn’t surprise me, what I’m feeling right now, because I felt it the second I first saw her. Maybe I’m still struggling to come to grips with how I feel, but this feels more natural than anything I’ve experienced before.
“You smell like gasoline,” she says sleepily as I crawl into bed beside her. She’s so fucking soft and warm and she snuggles up against me, not fully conscious.
“I’ll shower in the morning,” I whisper and can’t resist the temptation to kiss her hair.
Chapter 23
Elena
Ibusy myself around the house cleaning and straightening even though I don’t really need to. Brody was up at the crack of dawn and out the door before I could drag myself from bed, and now I’m left alone in my house to worry and fret and generally feel like shit.
Fortunately, my mother shows up before I can drive myself absolutely insane. We hug and I make her some coffee while she talks about Famiglia gossip.
“Everyone really misses Matty,” she says and sips from her mug as I lean against the counter across from her. “All the guys keep saying it. That young man really made an impression on everyone.”
“He had a lot of potential,” I say and look toward the back door. “That’s why we need to end this stupid war before we lose more good people.” I chew my lip, thinking about Brody out with my brothers making bad decisions and getting himself hurt. The worst part is, he’d never forgive himself for letting his family down if he got killed right now.
“I heard you and your husband are staying here for a little while.” Mom seems very casual about it but I can tell she’s fully invested in this conversation all of a sudden.
I start to pace, feeling too antsy to sit still. Damn this stupid energy. I need to go for a run or something. “Yes, Mother, my husband and I are staying here.”
“That’s very nice, darling, that’s all I wanted to say. How’s it going with him?”
I hesitate, which is a mistake, because Mother can read all sorts of things into silence just as easily as she can into an actual answer. “They’re fine,” I say, and it makes her laugh. “What’s so funny?”
“I saw the way you two were at the funeral. You seemed very comfortable with him.”
“I was in mourning. He was comforting me.”
“The way a husband should.” She crosses her legs. “He’s very handsome, you know.”
“Mom, seriously, I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Come on, Elena. We both know why you can’t sit still right now. You’re practically bouncing off the walls with worry.”
“That’s not true.” I start folding a blanket that was already perfectly folded. “Everything is great. It’s peachy keen. It’s stupendous.”