Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Tisha smirked. “I doubt it.”
“I showed up because I didn’t think Sasha was doing his job. My washer for America was dead. I figured I would catch the guilty idiot, kill him, get my cock sucked, and return to Russia.” I let out a long breath. “But then. . .I met the Mouse.”
“And the rest is bombs, blood, and dead bodies.”
“Once I saw Emily. . .” My heart hummed with desire. “And then I learned about her story and. . .”
I swallowed. “Not even the strongest vest could have blocked those bullets. Each shot fired engraved a beautiful scar. . .into my soul. . .”
“Then, I’ll wear ten vests from now on.”
Unable to help myself, I laughed. “Are you afraid to start sounding like me right now? A bumbling nervous fucking pussy-whipped idiot?”
Tisha raised his hands. “You said it, Kazimir. I didn’t.”
“Yet, we both know it is true.” I pulled my phone out, wondering if I should call Max again, but then the driver took us off the highway, telling me we would be there soon.
“I’m happy for you, cousin.” Tisha gazed at my phone. “But for me, love sounds like a double-edged sword.”
“No.” I put my phone back up. “It is a gun.”
“Fine. It is a gun.” Tisha chuckled. “And, a gun can protect. Sure. But it can also hurt, even destroy us. Isn’t love the same? It can be manipulative, possessive, and even abusive.”
I shrugged. “But, is it love, if it is misused?”
“Gunshot wounds can leave deep scars.”
“Still, it’s about how you wield the gun.” I thought of Emily naked and moaning under me. “You must operate with understanding. Care. Trust. Keep it safe and away from the wrong hands.”
The paved street shifted to a rocky, dirt road, flanked by swamp. Tonight, the glow from the headlights easily displayed tons of alligators lounging on the roads’ sides. This was not the sort of place to have a flat tire.
I looked at one as we drove by.
Moonlight glistened over that scaly skin.
That pit of alligators returned to me, stinking of shit and death.
I sneered. “May I never see another alligator in my life, after I leave here.”
Tisha laughed.
Soon, we arrived at Delphine’s place.
In the darkness, the Victorian house took on a gloomier image. The yellow paint seemed to glow. The large bay windows appeared like hollow eyes, gazing blankly at us.
There, on that porch, even more huge Black men stood, their silhouettes stark against the dim light, their hands holding guns.
They watched our approaching vehicles.
My mouse better be okay or all of you will die tonight.
Among them, Maxwell stood out on the porch, pacing nervously with a joint smoldering between his fingers. Each time he took a drag, the glow briefly illuminated his face, revealing his furrowed brow and anxious eyes.
The car pulled up to the front.
“It is time.” Tisha took out his gun and made sure it was loaded. “Let’s go check on that beautiful gun that shot through your heart.”
I remembered what Maxwell had said earlier about Delphine’s limited white men policy and left the car. “Stay here, but if Maxwell or I don’t return in fifteen minutes, shoot your way through.”
“Kazimir, are you sure?”
I picked up the jar. “Cousin, I’m not sure about anything tonight.”
Chapter nineteen
Voodoo-proof Vest
Kazimir
My mouse better be fine.
I carried the Eye of the Gator in one hand and headed to the shadow-draped porch.
The few Black men that weren’t standing, now rose and came to the edge of the porch.
Their gazes remained on my SUVs of armed men.
Do not worry. There will be no need for war as long as my mouse is fine.
Those men stood on the porch, still as statues. And in the trick of the moonlight, shadows partially concealed their faces, morphing their expressions into otherworldly illusions with unblinking eyes. The threat of violence radiated from them. It was as if they were not men all, but phantoms Delphine had summoned from old graves.
Dead men to protect her forever.
A chill slithered down my spine.
Despite the undercurrent of danger, I moved forward without a gun or my men.
The love for my mouse propelled me.
Turning fear into determination.
This was why love was a gun to me.
Powerful.
Dangerous.
Inescapable.
It loaded me with courage, aimed my resolve, and pulled the trigger on my actions. With each step, I was firing bullets of defiance against the fear that sought to paralyze me.
For her I would walk through hellfire, barefoot.
Be okay, mysh.
I climbed the stairs and moved past the silent phantoms. Their gazes damn near pierced my skin.
When I stepped on the porch, it creaked.
The pungent odor of marijuana swirled toward me.
Maxwell stopped pacing and stared at me. “Em still hasn’t come up.”
“And you still have not gone down.”
Maxwell stepped forward and kept his voice close. “I’m not going down unless you’re with me.”
I scowled. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I left you here to watch over her like you always do.”