Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
“And you came?”
“I always come when that happens. No matter what.”
“Wait.” My head fogged with confusion. “You’ve come. . .before?”
Her butcher knife hit bone. She grunted as she sliced at the joint fast. Her breath rushed out in short bursts. Her chest quickly rose and fell. Seconds later, she yanked the arm away with a wet pop and walked off to the corner of the room.
I called after, “Lunita, have you come before?”
“Of course.”
“When did you start coming?”
Sighing, she dropped the arm in the corner and headed back. “I don’t understand what you are asking me.”
“When. . .” I let a long breath go. “When did you start appearing to help Emily?”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Lunita returned to Salvatore. “And you’re not helping me organize.”
I swallowed down my annoyance. I had to be patient even though I had thousands of questions. I needed to learn as much as I could. More than that, I needed to learn what I could do.
“Oh.” She opened her mouth and touched her stomach. “That must be the baby.”
Anxiety crashed through me. My words rushed out. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay? How do you feel? Should I get the—”
“It’s just moving.” She let go of her stomach and raised her saw to Salvatore’s other shoulder. “I don’t like to feel it moving.”
“But. . .don’t do anything to the baby, okay?”
She eyed me like I was crazy. “Why would I do anything?”
Get back to the questions. We have to solve this.
While she cut the arm, I worked on Salvatore’s leg. “So, you said that you come and help Emily when she is sad or suffering.”
She sighed in annoyance.
“When did this begin?”
She had the other arm off faster and headed away to the corner.
“Lunita, answer me, please.” I sawed at the leg, taking my anger and frustration out on the corpse. How crazy this would look to David or any of my other men—my being naked and separating body parts with my mouse.
For a few seconds, the sound of the sawing drowned out my thoughts.
Lunita returned, stopped at my side, and watched me. “You keep asking me a bunch of dumb questions.”
I spoke through clenched teeth, “Answer anyway.”
She pouted.
“When did you start coming to give Emily breaks?”
“When I let her take over.”
I paused from sawing off the leg. “What does that mean?”
“She’s smarter so I just let her have us. I wanted to end it all, but she took charge and then I. . .” Lunita shrugged. “I watch sometimes on the television, but not much. Sometimes it’s boring. Sometimes it’s fun.”
I screwed my face in confusion. “Lunita. . .”
She went to another body. “No more questions.”
“I don’t understand what you are saying, just explain to me—”
“I don’t talk!” Lunita spun around and slashed the air over and over. “I cut! I cut! I cut! I cut!”
The sound of the door knob wiggling hit my ears.
Who is that?
Racing toward the door, I stopped it from opening too far.
David tried to duck his head around my arm, but I blocked him. The muscles in his neck bulged as he tried to get past me. His eyes held confusion. He pushed against the door, but my leg was braced against it and I didn’t budge.
I yelled, “No!”
David backed up fast. “I heard yelling and wanted to make sure—”
“Don’t interrupt us!” I slammed the door, locked it, and walked back to Lunita.
She was now on the other side of the room. Her focus centered on Ciro’s corpse.
Right when I got to her side, she began cutting into Ciro’s arm.
I sighed. “Lunita, when you say television—”
“Where is Max? He doesn’t bother me.”
“What does he do?”
“He stands far away and looks away until I’m done. Where is he?”
“Max is with Jean-Pierre.”
Lunita paused from slicing, looked at the ceiling, and stared at it for several seconds.
I checked it too, but saw nothing.
Then, she put her view on me and squinted. “Jean-Pierre. . .is the Butcher?”
“Yes.”
“Max is gone with him? That’s probably why she needed me to come this time.”
“But she wasn’t sad.” I frowned. “I have been taking care of her.”
“But sometimes you go too far.” Lunita returned and sliced into the arm. “You’re not right in the head either.”
“How do you think I might have gone too far?” I stiffened. “I don’t want to make Emily sad again.”
“I haven’t been watching the show.”
“Why not?”
She pouted. “I have a life too.”
“Where?”
“In Harlem.”
“Doing what?”
“Painting and talking to Kennedy and Uncle Xavier.”
But. . .they’re dead.
I studied Lunita. “You said that you let Emily be in charge—”
“Leave me alone!”
I stared back at her in shock. This was all unfamiliar territory. When I asked, people answered. When I needed to understand, everyone did their best to make sure I comprehended or they died.
With Lunita, I would have to figure out another tactic.
Goddamn it!
I gave her some space, returned to Salvatore’s body, and finished sawing his legs.