Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“Man, you want me to say cock obstacle?”
“No.” Jean-Pierre spoke moving his hands as if that would help me understand. “Instead of. . .cock blocking. We could just say that Rafael is providing an obstacle for you to attain Gwen’s attention.”
“That shit sounds boring.”
Boris chuckled. “The idea of cock block is different in my neighborhood. When you first said it, I was utterly confused.”
“What is it for you all?”
“When a Russian man cock blocks you, he actually cuts off your dick and balls, then stuffs them in your mouth so you get no satisfaction from any direction.”
Jean-Pierre and I stared at him.
Silence filled the car.
Then we turned down a rocky dirt path, everyone moved our attention to that.
A large old yellow and white house loomed before us. It resembled the perfect property for a horror movie. All it needed was a sign hanging in the front with the word danger written in blood.
No other houses were in the area.
I turned back to the imposing structure.
It was three stories high with dark, sinister windows staring back at us.
It had a wraparound porch.
Several Black men stood on it, holding machetes and guns. And these were no skinny dudes. They were the very definition of well-built and rippling power. They had all enjoyed good-eating in their lives and surely knew their way around dumbbells. In fact, they probably yanked trees from the roots just for fun.
They glared at the approaching vehicles. Their eyes held eerie, malevolent gazes.
I widened my eyes. “Who are these guys?”
Jean-Pierre spoke, “My understanding is that some of them are Gwen’s half-brothers and the rest are her first and second cousins.”
“Shit.” I chuckled to myself. “And Rafael is trying to date her?”
Jean-Pierre shook his head in disbelief too.
“You’re right. Dude is irrational when it comes to women. He can have Gwen.”
Our driver stopped us in front of the house.
Jean-Pierre watched the men. “We should remain in the car until Rafael gives us the sign to come out.”
“No shit. Honestly, I don’t plan on leaving the car at all.”
“I need you, Maxwell. Remember the policy.”
“I wouldn’t go mess with these guys or this voodoo shit, even if you were paying me.”
“And if I was paying you?”
I turned to him. “How much?”
“How much do you want?”
Boris spoke for us. “Quarter million in US dollars.”
I smiled. “Each.”
Jean-Pierre frowned. “Don’t you two come as a pair?”
“Yeah, but we’re an expensive pair.” I turned back to watching the men. “And I want a guarantee that we go straight to Em after this. I’m done with having adventures with you. I’ve almost died several times now.”
Boris nodded. “I also agree with Maxwell’s assessment. We must head to Italy.”
Rafael and Gwen left his blue Benz and headed forward. As soon as the men spotted Rafael they began yelling and waving their machetes at him.
I didn’t know what Rafael had done the first time he came here, but it surely wasn’t good.
Gwen had to wave her hands to quiet them. However, they all instantly listened to her and went silent.
She must be the oldest or something.
Jean-Pierre sighed. “Okay. Half a million to my new friends for helping me in this tight bind.”
“Good.” I let out a long breath. “I just don’t want any more weird shit to happen to me. Timur and that blood baptism fucked me up.”
“How?” Jean-Pierre quirked his brows.
I stirred. “Timur knew stuff. . .things that no one else would know.”
“Like what?”
“None of your business. Just understand that Timur mentioned something during the blood baptism that he shouldn’t have known and so maybe. . .the Great Eagle is. . . real.”
Boris shifted in his seat.
“Was it about your ache?” Jean-Pierre gave me an odd look. “Or your father’s sins and what he did to Emily—”
“How do you know that?”
“Because that’s what you kept mumbling in the pews while you were sleeping and Timur was preaching. You kept groaning and moaning about needing to stop the ache and how your father’s sins are holding you from living and that Em needs you and you were apologizing over and over and—”
“Okay, man.” I held up my hand. “I got it.”
Boris nodded. “I remember some of that. It’s foggy, but—”
“Hey.” I pointed at him. “I remember shit about you too.”
Boris closed his mouth.
“Either way, Maxwell.” Jean-Pierre shrugged. “Timur only repeated what you said while you were sleeping. There was nothing spiritual that occurred in that blood baptism. No magic. No miracles. Just a crazy man repeating and guessing.”
“But the ache is somewhat gone.”
“Perhaps, you just needed to think it was gone, to get it to leave.”
I was about to speak, but the house’s front door opened.
Gwen and the men on the porch went silent.
A tiny old woman stepped out in a long black dress that swept the ground as she slowly strolled on the porch. She held a black cane with different colored gems going up the length of the wood. The gems sparkled in the sunlight.