Mafia Blood (The Five Families, 1)

THREE . dead man walking

KARISSA

I KNEW WITHOUT A DOUBT that everyone handled death in different ways.

     There were some people who broke down and started crying. Others shed a few tears but kept up a strong facade for the others around them. Then there were the ones who expressed no emotions and you couldn't tell what they were thinking.

     Believe me, I wanted to be the first one. It would've made me feel normal if I was. But after the few tears I shed a while ago, the sad feeling I felt had already passed. Don't get me wrong I was still upset about Paisley's death and wanted to kill whoever caused it, but crying wasn't going to fix the past.

     For most of the drive I had been staring out of the window gathering my thoughts, wondering what my father and Percival were up to that somebody wanted to kill him. Nightfall was starting to hit, and I hadn't even realized how much time had gone by. I guess shock will do that to you.

      Questions were burning in my mind like a raging inferno, and I gazed over at Percival.

     His attention was focused on the road, and I pursed my lips.

     "Where are we going?" I finally asked. I'd been too busy thinking about everything else instead of the obvious question.

     He glanced over at me for a moment with his light blue eyes and then focused on the road.

     "We're picking something up, and then we're heading to the airport," he said and my eyebrows furrowed.

     "Why? I have things to do here. I can't just up and leave," I stated.

     "We'll, you're going to have to. Trust me you're going to want to be with your family when things go down," he mumbled and I didn't know how to reply to him.

     Percival parked in the lot of a hotel, and I exited the car as he did.

     "We should be quick," he said, ushering me to follow behind him.

     I walked beside him silently as we entered the hotel. Percival waved at the guy behind the counter who nodded back in reply as we headed towards the elevator.

     Getting in the elevator after him, I gave Percival a questioning expression.

     "What are we getting?" I questioned.

     For a moment he didn't answer. Then he replied, "Patience."

     I wanted to argue with him but kept my mouth shut, clenching my jaw. I trusted him so I knew he'd explain at the appropriate time.

     When the elevator hit the fifth floor we exited and began to walk down the hall. We stopped at a room door with the number thirty. Percival knocked on the door and we waited a few feet away from the door. After a few seconds went by the door opened revealing a middle aged man with black hair and a skull tattoo on his hand.

     "Percival," the man grunted.

     "The package?" Percival asked and the man held up a finger for us to wait right before he shut the door right in our faces.