Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Kira’s jaw drops. The bucket is filled with keys, dongles, carabiners, and all sorts of keychains. “We’ll never find it in that thing,” she moans.
“Ah, no worries,” Lenny says happily. “I’m not closing for a few hours. Go ahead and take your time. We’re not busy.”
I thank him and carry the bucket to the corner of the room. I dump half out, spread it thin, and kneel on the carpet. Kira joins me, hands pressed to her head.
“Do you even know what it looks like?”
“Like a safe deposit box key.”
“We’re screwed.”
“It’ll have a small chit attached to the key’s ring with 387 stamped on it. That’s the box number.”
“Well, okay, maybe less screwed, but still.” She sifts through the mess. “This is a nightmare.”
“We’d better get to work.”
She’s right, it really is a nightmare, but we manage to fall into a good workflow when Lenny offers us an empty container to dump the stuff we’ve checked already. I pull a handful out, we sift it together, Kira drops everything in the second bucket, and the process repeats. Slowly, we make our way through the pile, looking at every single object one at a time.
It’s excruciating. Kira yawns loudly. Lenny ignores us mostly. Some customers come through, and he deals with them. A couple of old ladies give us a weird look as they browse a stack of guitars.
“Ah! Ah! Holy shit!” Kira suddenly leaps to her feet, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Stellan. Stellan! Holy shit!”
I climb up and take the key she’s got in her hand. It’s flat, gold, and has a tag at the end.
“387,” I read, heart hammering in my chest. “This is it.”
“It’s got to be it, right?!”
“Could be just another key with a similar tag,” Lenny calls from behind the counter, barely looking up from his phone. “Might want to keep looking.”
Kira looks distraught, but I shake my head. “This is it.”
She throws her arms around me and hugs me tight. I hold her, kiss her cheek, and shove the key into my pocket.
“You two gonna clean all that up?” Lenny calls as I head to the door with Kira on my arm. “Hey, hold up!”
“Next time, don’t eye-fuck another man’s wife,” I say, looking back over my shoulder. “You’re lucky I’m just leaving a small mess.”
Lenny has the good manners to look slightly ashamed. “Good luck to you folks,” he says with a wave. “I’ll straighten up, don’t you worry.”
For the first time since my father died, hope blooms in my chest. I never really thought I’d find this key. I kept thinking I’d have to rob the damn bank just to get the book back. But this makes my life so much easier. Bank robberies come with way too much risk these days.
Now I can walk right in and take what I need.
The book is mine again. The Corsetti Famiglia is saved.
The Turks will fucking burn for this.
“Stellan.” Kira’s voice slices through my fantasy. Her tone’s fraught with terror. “Oh, shit, Stellan.”
I look ahead toward the car. The driver’s standing at the end, hands raised in the air. Five men stand around him.
“Get behind me,” I say an instant before they open fire.
The driver goes down. His brains are blown out in a spray of blood and bone. His corpse crumbles to the ground, blood spreading out on the pavement.
One of the men steps forward.
He’s older than me. Near my height. Dark hair, dark eyes, thick eyebrows, and a cocky smirk. He’s wearing a suit and carrying a steaming pistol pointed at my chest. I stand between Kira and these assassins, head spinning through possibilities. Can I draw my weapon? Can I get her to safety? We’re caught in the parking lot without any cover.
“Stellan Corsetti. I’m sorry it took me this long to come have a conversation.” The man puts his gun away. “It’s been an eventful few weeks.”
“You followed me.”
“Wasn’t easy, if it makes you feel any better.”
“You’re Vural, aren’t you?”
His grin widens. “You can call me Isak. Everyone else does. I wish we had more time to get to know each other, but—” He holds out a hand. “You found the key, didn’t you?”
I reach into my pocket. The men behind Isak raise their weapons expectantly. “I’ll die before you take it.”
“I believe you,” he says cheerily. “But would you let her?” He gestures at Kira.
She’s pale. Her body’s pressed to my back. “Don’t listen,” she whispers. “Please, Stellan. Don’t give it to him.”
My jaw tightens. All the elation I'd felt moments earlier fades. My heart thuds, and I start to do the math.
If Isak gets this key, it's over. My family's finished. He'll get the book, and we're fucked. I won't be able to fix this.
But if I don't hand it over, Kira could die. I'm outnumbered, outgunned, and caught in the open.