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)
“Another time and place. That's a story to tell with a fat blunt and bottle of expensive brandy.”
What type of trouble did Jean-Pierre get Maxwell in?
I grinned at the possibilities. If it were too crazy, the details could shake the connection that the Butcher had with my mouse. When it came to Maxwell, Emily transformed into a mother bear fiercely protecting her cubs.
Maxwell tested the water with his other hand. “We need to warm this up, and let some drain.”
“Is that your way of asking me to do it?”
“Motherfucker, you think I'm asking.” He chuckled. “What you need to do is see this as a humbling moment.”
“I am the very essence of humble.”
“Shiiiit.” Maxwell chuckled again. “Just remember this. Tonight, I'm the boss, and you're the little soldier.”
Excuse me?
Anger rose in my chest.
Then, Emily stirred in the water, reminding me that I needed him.
Clenching my teeth, I pressed the button to lift the stopper. Water began to drain. I turned the hot water faucet. The sound of running water rose as the smooth jazz song ended.
Maxwell moved bubbles away and perused Emily's naked body.
I gritted my teeth, not appreciating another man's eyes on my mouse. I gripped the faucet hard. My knuckles went white.
“You didn't do a bad job.” Maxwell moved his view to me. “You look mad.”
“I would rather you not spend too much time gazing at her—”
“Relax, man. I've seen it all at different phases of her life.”
“That doesn't calm me.”
“Thankfully, I don't care.” Rage filled his eyes.
We glared at each other.
A new jazz song came on. This one wasn't as melodic as the other. Still, the instrument sang as if it was a beautiful woman serenading her lover. The notes filled the space with musical longing. My soul hummed to the rhythm.
Suddenly, Maxwell bobbed his head as if also lost in the song. He grabbed one of the large cups off the floor and handed it to me. “Lift her head and wet her hair.”
“It won't wake her?”
“What would you do, if one of your soldiers asked you a question after you ordered them?”
“Probably slap or back hand them.”
“That's not cool. Another man can't slap a man.”
“Why not?”
“Too much disrespect. Slapping is designated for woman-to-woman disagreements.” He gestured to the cup. “However, if you ask me another question. . .I'm going to slap the shit out of you.”
“Are you enjoying this?”
Maxwell grinned. “I am.”
“There will be a moment when you and I are in a room and my mouse is not naked in a tub, needing me to keep her head up so that she won't drown.”
“I am excited about that moment, but until then. . .lift her head and soak her head with water.”
I stifled a growl.
Chuckling, he picked up the cup and put it in front of me. “Yeah. I might be enjoying this too much. I'll chill out.”
I snatched the cup from him.
When he finished chuckling, the humor left his face.
He let out a long breath. “Unfortunately. . .we're going to have to work together on this shit.”
He looked down at the water. “I. . .umm. . .”
I placed the cup in the water, filled it to the top, and lifted it up. “What, Maxwell?”
“I. . .can't lose her, man.” His voice cracked at the end. “Em is my. . .everything.”
I exhaled some of the tension away. Since Lunita's appearance, I felt like I was the only person on this planet that was going through this horrific experience.
Now looking at Maxwell's face, I knew, I wasn't alone.
Slowly, I lifted her head and poured water onto Emily's hair. Some of it splattered onto the floor, leaving dark red drops onto the tile. The rest went back into the tub, darkening the water.
“Good job, little soldier.”
“Maxwell, I have never killed a man with a cup before, but there is always a first time.”
He winked at me. “I killed a man with a cup.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Slammed the coffee mug against his temple. He was out in seconds.”
“Why did you kill him?”
“Dude came around the brownstone asking questions. I let him in my apartment. He was a detective hired by some woman looking for her missing husband.”
“You killed her husband?”
“Em did.” Maxwell shook his head. “Catch up, man.”
“Her husband was one of the Tinder Killer victims.”
“There we go, little soldier. Now keep soaking that hair.” With his free hand, Maxwell picked up a bottle from the box. “If I kill somebody, better believe it was for Em. I never have any other reason to take a person's life.”
I gathered more water into the cup and poured it over her hair. “We need to exchange notes.”
“We do, but I don't like your notes.”
“You still will have to deal with them.”
“It's talking to you. That shit creeps me out.” He poured purple creamy liquid onto the top of her hair. “Do you know how much weed I had to smoke to come back up here?”