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)
I stopped at the end of the path and looked at him. “What?”
“Yeah. I was in New Orleans with the French and—”
“New Orleans? JP was only supposed to take you to France—”
“That's another story.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “Well, we have the time, so tell me what the fuck happened because I don’t like that he had you everywhere—”
“Actually, we don't have the time.” Max pointed at the hotel.
Someone stood near the entrance.
I squinted and realized it was Baba.
“Em, I'll just say this. The voodoo woman was talking about how I had to take care of Lunita and you.”
“She said that name?”
Max nodded. “I didn’t even know who Lunita was at the time.”
“She said Lunita, before you heard Kaz say it?”
“Facts.”
“Then, we need to go see her. Maybe she can help me figure this out or—”
“Hell no!” Max backed up like a ghost had appeared. “I will never see her ass again, and I won’t let her get anywhere near you.”
“But if she knows about Lunita—”
“Em, you don't want any parts to this voodoo woman. She'll have snakes and shit crawling all over your body—”
“Snakes?”
Max nodded. “Snakes. Lots of them.”
Trembling, I headed off. “I hate snakes.”
“Exactly.” Max walked on my side.
“But, if she knew about Lunita before—”
“Aww, man. Come on, Em.”
“What?”
“I didn't tell you about this crazy woman to give you ideas. It was to explain why I don't like the name Lunita.”
“I want to meet this voodoo woman—”
“Come on, man. If you go to New Orleans, then I have to go, and I don’t fucking want to go.”
“I need help, Max.”
“Fuck that. You got the Russian. Our money bags are different now. We don't have to go to New Orleans and fuck with some crazy lady walking in people's heads and shit.”
“Walking in heads?”
“All I'm saying is get a proper professional. Hell! Get thirty professionals, not some witch doctor in the bayou.”
“But if she knew Lunita—”
“Not an option, Em. I’m serious.”
I sighed. “Fine.”
“You damn right it's fine.”
Still, some of the tension left my shoulders.
What if she can do something to help? I bet she could. How would this work? Could she combine the two of us or something? Or just get rid of Lunita? Is it possible?
Max watched me. “Goddamn it.”
“What?”
He pointed at me. “Your fucking face. You're doing that expression you do right before you drag me down into the sewer.”
“I'm not.”
“We're not going to New Orleans.”
“Sure.”
Not now. We've got a war, but maybe afterwards.
“Motherfucker!”
“I didn't say anything, Max.”
“Yeah, but I know what's on your mind.” Max gestured to Baba. “If I were you, I would fuck with Baba before the voodoo woman. She's less scary.”
“I don't know about that, but. . .” I focused on Baba. “But, I'll try anything, Max. I don't want to be this fucked up. I want to be better.”
Chapter 12
Flowers
Blue
After yesterday, I woke up at dawn with a sense of dread, knowing the rest of the week wouldn't be a vacation.
War had come. Thousands of enemies surrounded us. The Mouse cracked into brutal violence. The Lion killed several of Harlem Crew, sending the message that he expected fierce loyalty.
I would have to remain vigilant.
After I showered and dressed, I spread plastic bags and towels over the table. Then, I opened the balcony doors to make sure the space had good air circulation.
The cleaning solvent's fumes could make me sick, and they had a disgusting smell.
Next, I lay out my tools on the table— solvents to lubricants, rods and brushes, polishing cloths and even a small flashlight.
Then, I put the guns on the table.
Here we go.
Properly inspecting and regularly cleaning my guns kept them functioning effectively and firing safely.
Due to the tiny explosion in the chamber every time I pulled the trigger, residue and sediment was always left on the inside of the barrel. That made cleaning the guns essential to avoiding dangerous malfunctions.
The Brotherhood had a team that cleaned their weapons every time they fired them.
Implementing a Weapons Cleaning group for Harlem Crew would be one of the many ideas I planned to bring up to Emily. I just had to wait until she was mentally ready to deal with more stuff.
The image of that suite flashed in my head—the gore, the blood, the piles of body parts.
Don't think about it.
Tension gathered in my shoulders. A shiver ran through me. I swallowed and pushed that horrific scene out of my mind.
She'll be okay this morning.
But, the biggest question was, how were we supposed to act around Emily? I could barely understand this new reality.
Will they tell her? And if they do, what will she think? Will she be okay?
I wanted to be near her when she woke up, but Kazimir and Maxwell wouldn't allow it.
They think they're the only ones who can take care of her.
Frowning, I unloaded my guns.
I owed a lot to Emily. Never did I think I would ever be able to repay her. And now there was this moment where Emily was in a vulnerable position, and I could help.