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)
“You can braid hair?”
“Catch up, Kazimir.”
“Patterns and swirls?”
“Yeah, man.”
I smiled. “When I arrived in New York for Rumi’s death, she had a wig on. Later, her hair was cornrowed in pretty patterns. Was that you?”
“Yeah, man.”
“You’re an artist.”
“Relax.”
The next few minutes, we took our time lifting Emily out of the bathtub. I wrapped her naked body in a towel and then gathered her in my arms.
We left the bathroom.
Boris, Blue, and King David stood in the bedroom.
Several of my men guarded the side.
Maxwell scowled at Boris and Blue.
David opened the door for us. “Baba wants to see you.”
I carried Emily down the hallway. “Good. And I want to see her. I will need a reading immediately.”
“Alright, but she rushed to you about the boy.”
Tension gathered in my shoulders. “What about him?”
“He woke up from a nightmare and was screaming for Emily. Baba said he kept yelling, 'mysh. mysh.’”
“Did you tell Baba about the. . .incident.”
“She already knew.”
Of course she did. She could have told me.
David continued, “Baba just wanted me to tell you that when Emily wakes up, she must spend time with the boy.”
Walking at my pace, Maxwell remained on my left. “Pavel's kid?”
David nodded.
“I saw him earlier. He had cornrows in his hair.”
I nodded. “Emily put them in there.”
“Hmmm.” Maxwell stopped us at the master suite and opened the door.
“What?”
Maxwell shook his head. “Just taking notes to catch up. That's all.”
“We're still not done talking.” I carried Emily into our suite and slowly lay her onto the bed. “I need to know more.”
“Man, I still have to braid her hair.” Maxwell pulled out a joint from his pocket and headed to the balcony. “I'm taking a smoke break and then—”
“I'm coming too. This conversation isn't over.”
David remained by the bed. “I will watch Emily.”
Maxwell escaped onto the balcony.
Walking that way, I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Boris peeking in the doorway. When he spotted me, he hid his head.
“Make Harlem Crew go to their rooms.” I raised my voice a little. “And if they don't. . .shoot them.”
David smiled. “Yes, sir.”
I headed onto the balcony with Maxwell, right as he lit his joint.
When he saw me, he sighed. “Come on, man. I’ve seen you quite enough today.”
“We need to exchange notes.”
Maxwell blew smoke in my direction. “So far, I've been doing the talking.”
“You know more.”
“Apparently, Lunita talks to you though.”
“Maybe, because you screamed and fled from her when she came out—”
“She was fucking killing a guy—”
“Still, she's misunderstood.”
Maxwell shook his head and took another hit of his joint.
I reached my hand out.
“Oh, hell no. Em said you can't smoke anymore.”
“I believe enough has happened to warrant a smoke.”
Maxwell shook his head again. “Don't tell her you got it from me.”
I took the joint. “I won't keep secrets from her.”
Maxwell let out an exasperated breath. “Dude, you will have to keep these secrets. Haven't you been fucking listening.”
“How will we fix this if she doesn't know—”
“You can't fix it—”
“Says you, and you're not a professional—”
“But you are?” Maxwell reached for his joint. “Give me my shit back.”
I put it to my lips and inhaled too much smoke. Coughing ensued.
Maxwell eyed me with disdain. “You always like to spit all over my shit. Just keep that one.”
I coughed more.
He pulled another joint out of his pocket. “All this week, I wanted to come back to Em where shit would be normal. She's my home.”
He lit the joint.
“Now even the home is covered in blood.”
A euphoric feeling washed over me. I blinked my eyes and inhaled some more. “We can fix this. We must.”
“How?”
“Baba might have answers.”
“I don't trust the magic spiritual shit.”
“Why not?”
“Because it scares me.” He blew out smoke. “You go too deep in it, and you can get lost. Trust me. I saw some shit this week. . .”
“What?”
“You know what?” Maxwell took a hit of his joint.
“What?” I followed suit, inhaling some of mine. More coughs left me, but not as many as before. “What were you going to say?”
“That voodoo woman probably could help Em.” Maxwell raised his joint up and stared at it. “Or this probably is the weed talking.”
“A voodoo woman.”
“Forget I said that. I don't even know if she really helped dude out.”
“Who?”
“Don't worry, buddy. You'll find out soon enough.”
I didn't know if I was super high already or if Maxwell was speaking in riddles.
I remembered something about Lunita and raised my eyebrows. “She could speak Spanish.”
Maxwell backed away. “What?”
“Lunita spoke Spanish to me. Does that make sense?”
“Daryl and Em's mom was Dominican. She spoke it better than English. I remember when we were really young, they would speak it too.”
“Really?”
Maxwell nodded. “But when they started school. . .I think it was probably the first grade or so. . .they were struggling with English back then. Their dad forbid their mother to speak it around them anymore.”