Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
I look back at him, not wanting to leave. He’s been my rock through this whole ordeal and I’m not sure how I can survive without him. Marlena pats me on the arm sympathetically. “Let’s get you upstairs,” she says.
“No,” I protest, reaching out for my savior.
Frankie stays close, but he doesn’t reciprocate. It’s only then that I notice his injuries. His nose is split; there’s a nasty red line running across his bridge. Blood is caked across most of his face, making him look like a zombie out of a horror flick.
We all need to relax. We’re unharmed in Frankie’s mansion, and Carlo Andretti is dead. I suddenly realize that Mr. Harlan is gone too. He crawled out from beneath his rock to attack us and ended up getting killed. I wonder what’s in store for me once the police find the body, bodies really, since there’s more than one. It’s my apartment they’re in after all, so it only seems logical that there would be questions.
Francisco kisses his wife on the cheek. “Get her upstairs and into the shower. Frankie, you take one too. We’ll reconvene if anyone needs a doctor.”
“Sure, Dad,” Frankie agrees. “It’ll be okay,” he says to me. “You’re safe here. Go with Marlena.”
Francisco turns away toward his office, and the rest of his men follow. I guess it’s business as usual in the Corello household. I look at Marlena, hoping she’ll give me some direction. She smiles patiently, guiding me toward the staircase. I half expect Frankie to follow, but he peels off toward the kitchen. Maybe he’s going to get some ice for his nose, or a shot of vodka. I wouldn’t blame him for trying a simple pain-relieving remedy before wiping the blood off. I might like something to drink myself.
But Marlena is firm. “Let’s get you out of these clothes.”
I look down at what I’m wearing, shocked to see that there’s blood all over it. I’m not sure whose blood it is. I don’t think it’s mine, but it could very well be Andretti’s. Wouldn’t that be something? Marlena is right; I need to wash it off immediately, or I’m going to be caught red-handed.
I march up the stairs with Frankie’s stepmother. She guides me to a bathroom at the end of the hall. Inside, it feels so relaxing. The décor is modern and inviting. The shower is a walk-in variety that looks like something out of a spa. Marlena leans inside to turn on the faucet. I have a moment of panic as I remember the burst pipe in my kitchen. But this rain is softer, warmer, and somehow manageable, even though I’ve been through quite an ordeal.
Marlena doesn’t leave me. Instead, she helps me take off my shoes. I kick them to one side, noticing that they’re covered in blood too. It looks like everything I’m wearing is drenched in the stuff.
“I’ll be right back,” Marlena promises. True to her word, she’s only gone a few seconds. She returns with an enormous fluffy towel, setting it on the counter by the sink. “Take your time,” she instructs. “I’ll be right down the hall when you’re ready.”
I can’t summon the words to thank her, so I just watch mutely as she closes the door. This has been the most dreadful day of my life, including the time I discovered Danny’s body. I wish that a simple shower would help me feel better, but I know that’s too good to be true.
I peel my clothing off, feeling like it’s sunburnt skin. The blood is sticking the fabric to my body, some of it dried already, so it crackles as I tug on it. I’m finally naked, and I take a long moment to look at myself in the mirror.
I look horrible.
My hair is stringy, and my eyes are haunted. I can see the faint greenish ghost of a bruise that will only get worse over the next few days. My hands are shaking, and my face is pale. I look like I’ve walked through hell and back with nothing to show for it except my life.
Dragging myself away, I open the shower door and step inside. The moment the water hits me, I feel something break inside. It’s so warm and inviting, I almost feel like I don’t deserve it. Any moment now, someone else is going to break down the door and try to kill me for caring too much about my brother. I’ve been paranoid for so long, it’s a tricky thing to drop.
I drift in and out of clarity. One moment, I recognize where I am, and the next, I think I’m back in my own apartment. It’s difficult to sort out, but I try to hang on to the lovely shower and the calm interior of the bathroom.