Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
“Colombia’s Most wanted, Franco ‘Frankie Smalls’ Vasquez shot by the FBI.”
Since Martinez’s death, organized crime families were going down all over the world. And it was the only peace of mind I got out of the whole ordeal. At least he wasn’t going to be rotting in prison.
Maybe I did the right thing?
Then why did it feel so fucking wrong?
I honestly didn’t know how I felt. I would go from bawling, to numb, back to sobbing again. I was on an emotional rollercoaster going up and down, twisting all around to the point of making myself sick. I couldn’t keep up anymore. I knew one thing for sure. I couldn’t stay in New York anymore. Too many haunting memories lurked in the shadows.
“We are back, reporting live from Alejandro Martinez’s funeral,” the newscaster’s voice brought my attention back to the television. “They have just pulled the casket out of the hearse—” I got up, running to the bathroom, hurling all the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Unable to keep it down. Heaving it down the porcelain basin.
“Ugh!” I let out, throwing up some more. I spit, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I flushed the toilet.
I sat there for a few minutes, resisting the urge to do it again. Rubbing my stomach, breathing through the nausea, the emotions, the feelings, the tsunami my life had turned into. I stood, going to the sink. Splashing water in my mouth, spitting it back out. Looking at myself in the mirror.
“What did you do, Lexi? What did you fucking do?”
I went to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water. Trying not to throw up again. As much as I didn’t want to see the broadcast, my eyes were glued to the screen. Briggs appeared on camera, breaking down, Austin holding her up. Mourning the loss of the man who raised her. The only family she thought she had left. Followed by the good ol’ boys and their wives, walking right behind them. I found myself wondering if they told their little girl, Amari, her “unkey” would no longer be there to hold her, play with her or Skype ever again. The tears started to fall.
My half-sister…
And she would never even know it.
“I’m so sorry, Briggs,” I wept, shutting off the television. Knowing I would never be able to shake off the image of her falling apart.
I turned on the shower, setting it on the hottest temperature possible, stepping inside, welcoming the heat. Letting the hot water burn my skin, hoping it would wash away my sins. I didn’t know anything anymore. I was a black hole of nothing. All I could feel were his strong, callused fingers all over my flesh, his body on top of mine, his reassuring words. The lock he placed on my heart, I knew would never go away. No matter how much I tried, how much I wanted it to. He would always be a part of me.
My mind ran wild. I couldn’t get it to stop, image after image from the day in his office, played out in front of me. I pressed my hands against the shower wall, leaning my forehead on the cool rustic tile. Closing my eyes, still hearing his cruel words.
“This is your chance to get rid of me. To avenge your mother’s death. Do it! Pull the fucking trigger, do it!” His words were on repeat as much as the images. Scene after scene, the sound of the gun blasting, and everything that happened after.
“I killed him, Lexi. No one else, but me.”
“It was always your mother, Lexi. She was my cariño.”
“I killed my own father.”
I got down on my knees in the shower, instantly placing my hands over my ears, tuning out his voice, shutting out my own. I shook my head back and forth. Sobbing, pleading with God, with him, with myself to please forgive me. I never meant to hurt anybody. Needing to find some peace, some silence. The guilt was too much.
How could I go on like this?
I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold over my body, crying until I had no more tears left. I got out throwing on a cami and some panties, wrapping my hair in a towel. I grabbed the picture I left on the living room floor. It was the only thing I had left of him.
Of us.
I spent the rest of day in bed, mourning the loss of the man I killed. Crying myself to sleep. Exhausted. Alone.
“The things I regret haven’t happened yet. If something ever does happen to me, just remember I’ll always be with you. No matter what. In here.” My hand subconsciously laid over my heart.
Feeling him.
My eyes shot open. Gasping for air. Darkness all around me, the only light was cascading off the full moon from my window. His presence, his scent, his hold was all around me. I took a few deep breaths, settling back into my sheets. Shutting my eyes again, letting sleep take over once more. Slipping right back into the same dreams.