Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Poor guy. I’ll let him have his moment.
I quietly stepped back. It was time to be a more mature Max, especially with all that we’d been through in these last days. I had to grow and be better.
I've changed.
Then I stopped myself and thought of how he interrupted me while I was jacking off to Eden with Jean-Pierre.
I grinned.
I'll change tomorrow. Payback is a petty bitch.
“Eh!” I laughed. “What are you doing, man?”
Boris spun his head around. He widened his eyes. “Maxwell?”
“Well, it isn’t Emily.”
Boris’s face reddened. “You’re. . .out of the handcuffs—”
“And you’re in an eagle.”
“Oh, no.” Boris clumsily rolled away. His big goofy ass slammed into the side wall.
The poor eagle fell to the side, but I caught the big hole that Boris had put in its stomach. He rushed to get off the bed. Feathers stuck to his chest and dick.
I scrunched my face in horror. “Use the quilt to cover yourself up, man. I’ve seen enough dick today.”
“I was. . .” Boris fumbled with putting the quilt around his sweaty body. “I was with the eagle. . .trying to. . .come up with a plan. . .to help us escape—”
“Oh yeah. I saw that. You were definitely brainstorming for sure.”
Blinking his eyes, Boris rose and scanned the room. “It’s not what you think.”
“Are you sure?”
“Emily was talking to me through the Eagle.”
“I bet she was—”
“No, you don’t understand.” Boris blinked again and held his hand out as if he were trying to touch me.
I stepped back. "Keep that hand over there."
“Maxwell."
"Yeah?"
"I heard Emily through the eagle.”
“Because you’re still drugged up. Come on. We need to get you a large glass of water and then we just have to wait that shit out.”
Boris limped to me. “I’m so glad you are okay, Maxwell.”
“Me too.” I headed out of the room.
Boris grabbed my side and hugged me. “I thought we would die here—”
“You’re going to die if you don’t let go of me.”
“Oh.” He backed away.
I brushed feathers off my chest. “Get some water and then take a shower.”
Boris got closer to me and whispered, “I’m scared to be by myself.”
"You'll be fine."
Boris inched closer. "Take the shower with me."
"If you don't take your ass down to the kitchen and drink some water. I'm going to kill you.”
"But. . .is Timur downstairs?"
"No. The Butcher is and he called in to get us help."
"Come downstairs with me."
"Go by yourself. You will be fine." I frowned. “Now, Boris.”
“Where is it again?”
“Downstairs in the kitchen, man.”
Boris looked from side to side and then leaned my way. “Should I take the eagle?”
“You should definitely not take the eagle.”
"Alright." He brushed his chest down as if it were a wrinkled shirt and then he slowly step by step made his way through the hallway.
What the hell did Timur give him?
Chapter 11
Le Comédien
M
inutes later, I stood in the shower.
Thank you, God.
Warm, soothing water poured down on me like a summer afternoon rain, cleansing me of the bloody sludge and terror of the past days. I leaned forward and relaxed for the first time. The water carried a scent of pine. Steam condensed around me, creating a thick fog along my body.
Thank you for saving me, God. I know you did. It took a minute though. . .but you came through.
I let out a long breath.
Yet, one thought kept coming to my head. That moment in Timur’s blood-sludged baptismal pool. He had talked about Em, my father’s sins, and also my ache.
I hadn’t imagined that. It really happened. And I wasn’t drugged up like Boris, so there was no reasoning to the odd conversation.
How did he know about everything? I’ve never told anyone about the ache.
What were the chances that God truly had been speaking through that crazy fucker? Was that possible? Should I take what Timur said to heart?
I thought back to what he'd said, “Those sins are your father’s sins. Not yours. Release them.”
Timur was crazy, but I would take his advice.
I couldn’t lie. I felt different since that baptism in blood. I felt closer to God. More complete. The ache was still there, but very dull. I was able to think more clearly, and the world seemed brighter somehow. More vibrant.
And. . .I want more. . .
I wasn’t sure what this more was, but I yearned for it. Granted, I had an amazing life full of adventure and luxury. I’d been on more private planes this year than most. I’d gone to the Czech Republic then Russia, Italy to France. Even Misha wanted me now to go to Tokyo.
If this kept up, then I would see most of the world before I died.
But, even as I thought about it, I realized that it wasn’t enough. I wanted more than just to see the world.
I yearned for someone to experience it all with. A woman to help me feel alive.