Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
They revisited that conversation a couple of times, deciding what did and did not constitute disrespect or dishonesty. What mattered most was that Nico tried and remained open having a conversation when needed.
“Come on, man.” The coach leaned sideways enough to bump his shoulder against Salvatore’s. The two weren’t friends, and if it weren’t for his daughter nearing the sidelines, he would’ve made that fact clear. “You can’t tell me she picked soccer over cross-country this year because she thought she was better at it or would win more.”
She broke records either way. Trophy after trophy.
“She needs an outlet for aggression, and she’s getting it here in a way she can’t get it through just running alone,” Salvatore stated what the coach didn’t want to say. “Ask her, and she’ll probably deny it.”
“What girl wants to admit that sometimes she needs to drag someone across the ground?”
Now, Salvatore smirked. “A special kind. I know a few.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. And hey, thanks for getting her back for me. I’d miss her in the upcoming tourney. Keep her on a short rope, would you? She behaves when you’re around.”
“You got it.”
Salvatore waved at Frankie when she glanced his way as the coach return to the turf and blew the whistle. The man picked three quarters of the team to run laps while the remaining players had to clean the team’s gear off the turf. Including Frankie.
Surprise shot through him when Frankie headed beyond the white boundary line of the field and started picking up the pile of cones left closest to Nico’s spot. He couldn’t hear the exchange between them, but they clearly had something to say. They rarely passed one another at the estate and didn’t share a living space. The most the two saw of each other happened when he brought Nico along to get him out of the guesthouse, like today.
The disinterested attitude Nico had earlier drifted away as he sat up straight, boots to the ground, and leaned forward with his hands clasped between his knees while Frankie shrugged at something he said. She wouldn’t look directly at him, but she laughed without warning.
A genuine laugh. Salvatore froze, taking in that sight and sound.
Stranger was how slowly, seemingly one by one, the teenagers and a few others on the field and in the stands noticed the two. Quieting, the girls running laps slowed to turn and stare at Francesca and the boy who had refused to look at them.
The exchange between Nico and Frankie lasted less than two minutes before she darted back onto the field in search of whatever else needed gathered. It all seemed innocent enough, and Nico reverted to his previous position on the bench. The slight turn of his head told Salvatore that his gaze tracked Frankie from one side of the field to another.
Huh.
“Hey, boss man. Sorry, I’m late.”
“Right on time, actually,” Salvatore told Larkin as the man saddled beside him.
The two sat side by side on the bench.
“First, keys,” Larkin said, handing over a wrist-sized lanyard attached to various keychains, one fob, and two keys. “His Mercedes and the vintage Mustang are both at the estate in the garage.”
“And his Ducati?”
“Sitting out in the parking lot,” Larkin said, grinning. “Brought it here myself. That thing really goes.”
Salvatore shook his head, laughing. “Seriously?”
“I felt like I might meet God on the freeway. That’s all I’m saying.”
Salvatore nodded. “As long as he doesn’t meet God out there on the way home. Do you think he’s earned these back?”
“That’s up to you. You call the shots.”
“Give it to me straight,” Salvatore said.
Larkin lifted one shoulder. “Honestly, I think he needs something to do. He gets so bored down there by himself that he finds things to be entertained. What nineteen-year-old is scrubbing tile grout with a toothbrush at night?”
He gave Larkin a look who widened his arms as if to silently say, See?
“Yesterday,” Larkin added, “he turned his Zippo...you know that golden one he has, right?”
“Yeah.”
“He turned it into a burner phone by basically trading up with the guys until he got what he wanted. The Zippo was worth twenty bucks at a gas station.”
By guys, Larkin meant the estate’s security. Salvatore’s head swung sideways at the mention of a phone. Phones were still way off limits for Nico.
“No worries, he was just playing that stupid candy game. We checked.”
“You took the phone, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. We took the phone. Kinda shows he’s got a brain between those shoulders, though,” Larkin added quieter. “If you think about it. That was a Zippo. A lighter, Sal. The phone had to be worth a couple of hundred, at least. I bet he’d hustle a kid out of candy if someone said he couldn’t. Put something that’s got value into his hands and see what he could do with it.”