Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
He made his way around the room, checking it out, opening cabinets and drawers, doors here and there, then his eyes rested on the wood closet accordion doors in the bedroom. He opened them and smiled. An MG3 Machine Gun and F-2000 Assault Rifle immediately caught his eye. How pretty…
He picked them up, one at a time, examining them, checking their chambers, then placing them back just so.
After ensuring there were no cameras or recorders of any sort in the room, he took a piss, washed his hands, then snatched the special burner phone that was set up with state-of-the-art technology. Any call made from it would redirect the signal information, making it appear as if the call were coming from a tower in Mobile, Alabama. He knew that tonight, Desiree was out with a bunch of friends, including Melanie at some restaurant.
“Hey, baby. I’m at the hotel. I hope you had a good time at the spa with my sister and English earlier today. I take it since you’re not answering, you’re indisposed at this moment. Eating all the enchiladas and enjoying some margaritas… I probably won’t be able to call you later tonight because there’s a lot planned, but I’ll hit you up in the morning.” He stroked his beard and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Just wanted to tell you that I’ll be home soon. Enjoy yourself tonight, baby. I love you.”
Ending the call, he turned on the shower, undressed, and turned on some music. ‘WHO I AM,’ by Leia Azar played as he got under the hot stream of water.
…Drippin’ wet.
My angel would come to me drippin’ wet… caught out in the rain… taking a bubble bath when she called me the very first time… Like a baptism…
He smiled at the thoughts of his sexy Desiree, then drew serious and focused as he rinsed shampoo out of his hair. He stepped out, dried off, trimmed his beard, put on a bit of cologne and deodorant, and dressed in black slacks, a button-down black shirt that he only buttoned halfway, and a thin gold chain around his neck—a gift from Melanie many years ago.
After slipping into his black loafers, he donned his diamond pinky ring and went back to the closet, this time placing the items he needed in a duffle bag. He then grabbed the motorcycle helmet and jacket, and headed out to the rural, back hills of San Jose, Puerto Rico…
Daddy sat in a timeworn blue Lazy Boy chair, positioned right in front of the old-fashioned television. Legend ogled the old man with jet black hair and slivers of gray at the temples, as he blubbered and cried. His wife came and stood behind him, a plain, long-faced woman who placed her hand on his father’s shoulder. Small children, shiny-faced nieces and nephews he’d never met, from half siblings he’d never seen, made plenty of noise in the modest home that smelled of bread.
Daddy slowly got to his feet, and Legend watched an old man, who seemed far older than his years, make his way towards him. Arms outstretched. When his father wrapped his hands around him and squeezed, he wished he didn’t feel anything at all… but he did. His muscles jerked. His jaw tensed. Daddy sobbed onto his shirt.
“No one told me you were coming!” he yelled. “Let me call the family!”
“…It wasn’t a planned visit.” He looked around and hooked eyes with a man he presumed was another of his father’s sons, Ian. The man was standoffish—not that Legend cared. This truly had been unplanned, but when he made it to the villa, he’d felt compelled to make the trip to see his father. He wasn’t supposed to be seen by anyone he knew while taking care of business, but as he rode on that motorcycle to his original destination, trying to talk himself out of it, he simply couldn’t. His soul begged him to continue forward. To see his papi.
“Sit! Sit!” Daddy released him and walked back to his seat.
Legend sat to his left, in a rickety chair that wobbled. He asked his wife, in Spanish, to leave them be. To grant them time alone. She corralled her grandchildren, and they all went outside to the front yard. Once the room was cleared, and Daddy had patted his eyes dry with a handkerchief, he looked him up and down.
“My goodness… My son. All the way from Kentucky. We talk. I see you on FaceTime, Legend, but nothing could match what I see with my own eyes today.” Daddy was animated, waving his hands about. “You’re so tall and big! Like a football player!” Daddy chuckled. Legend offered a watery smile and nodded in agreement. “I’m six feet. You’re taller than me. Much bigger, too. I’m glad to see you’re staying out of trouble, son. No more jail.” The old man had the nerve to shake his finger at him.