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)
“Why?” I whisper.
Harlan comes down on one knee before me, happy to tell his story now that he's going to kill me, there’s no need to hold back. “He was investigating my partner, Carlo Andretti,” Harlan says. “I couldn’t allow him to do that. He was getting too close and collecting too much evidence to allow him to continue.”
I press my eyes shut, wishing I could block out all the vicious energy Mr. Harlan is giving off. He’s like some kind of evil battery, humming with delight over something that should make him sick. Regular people don’t get so excited confessing their heinous crimes. Regular people feel guilt or remorse when they’ve done something wrong. But not Harlan. He’s ecstatic. It’s like he wants me to know how much fun it was ending my brother’s life.
I think I’m going to be sick. I put one hand over my mouth and lurch for the bathroom. Harlan watches me go, still laughing.
“Keep the bathroom door open,” he instructs.
I do as he asks, leaving the door wide open as I fold myself over the toilet bowl. I haven’t eaten much today, but what little I was able to consume burns on the way up. I heave until my stomach quiets, and my heartbeat slows incrementally. I’m not out of the water, but I feel a little lighter. I rise to my feet on wobbly legs and turn on the sink. Swishing my mouth out with water, I try to define my next steps.
Frankie should be on his way. I feel bad for reaching out to him and dragging him into my private hell. It couldn’t be helped. Mr. Harlan demanded that I call everyone responsible over to the apartment. He wants to kill us all in one blow.
I didn’t mention Frankie’s Uncle Gio, he scares me, and I don’t want to get on his bad side. Harlan doesn’t realize it was more than just me and my ex-boyfriend who planted the bug on his computer. Obviously, Frankie is in on it, but there’s no way I’m giving anyone else up when they might be able to help us. Hopefully, Frankie told someone what is going on.
“I knew something was up when you said that Frankie Corello confessed,” Harlan observes from the living room. “But I just had to see the confession for myself. That was my mistake.”
I inhale and exhale sharply, holding my tongue. I want to strangle him. I want to go into my kitchen, get out a frying pan and beat him to death. Of course, I can’t do either of those things, but the anger changes me. I’m not afraid anymore, I’m pissed.
“Tell me how you did it,” I demand.
“You really want to know?” he teases me, his lips curling into an ugly smile.
“Yes,” I confirm, stepping out of the bathroom as if I’m ready to go into battle.
He sees that something has changed, but that doesn’t cause him to change his tactics at all. He still thinks that he has the upper hand. I’m thinking less about escaping and more about making him pay, even though he’s the one with the gun. I don’t even care if Frankie comes to rescue me. This is where I’ve been headed all along. I’m finally alone with my brother’s killer and if I can’t make him pay, at least I can catch a glimpse of Danny’s last minutes.
“He was just like you,” Harlan says, waving the gun at me. “He told me everything, thinking that I was on his side.”
“How long have you been on Andretti’s payroll?” I accuse.
“We’ll get to that,” Harlan promises. “But I want you to know exactly what he said before he died.”
I press my eyes shut for a moment. I thought I was ready for this, but it turns out that I’m not. My stomach protests again, and I nearly have to go back into the bathroom. But I fight through it, knowing that this might be the last chance to hear Harlan’s confession.
I wish I had my phone with me so that I could record what he’s saying. But he’s thought of that already. My phone is in his pocket, where he put it after he forced me to call Frankie. I may have justice on my side, but I’m unarmed and he’s staring right at me. I can’t get a weapon, and I can’t access my phone. All I can do is keep him talking, and hope that a solution presents itself.
“He opened the door for me when I came over to talk,” Mr. Harlan continues. “Stupid kid didn’t even know what hit him.”
I see Danny’s body in my mind’s eye, just as I found him. He was lying on his couch, the gun on the floor beside him. I must focus on remaining in the present, knowing that I’m about to suffer the same fate if I can’t figure out a way to break free.