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)
Shock instantly hit me.
This is the man from before.
However, I couldn’t guarantee it.
Earlier, I saw his face.
Now he wore a demonic clown mask that was frozen into a predatory grin. Most of the mask was white, except for the mouth, nose, and eyes. They were all black.
Still, thick lines of white thread were sewn over the eye holes and mouth as if the clown had been viciously cut and then stitched back together.
The effect was chilling.
A bulbous black nose protruded from the face, adding an air of cruelty.
Umm. . .
Boris, Giorgio, and I raised our guns in unison.
Keeping the shotgun on us, the clown spoke, “I have no problem with you all. . .at this time.”
I swallowed. “O-kay.”
The black and white stitched holes of the eyes stared at us with malice. “However, if you touch Ufuoma or bring her any harm. . .then I will have a problem.”
Giorgio slowly stepped forward. “What if I said that I was friends with her?”
“You are not.”
Giorgio sighed. “Do you have any idea who you are pointing a shot gun at?”
“I do.” The Clown gestured the weapon’s point my way. “You two are Blue and Boris from the Mouse’s Harlem Crew.”
I blinked.
What the hell?
“And you,” The Clown put the shotgun on Giorgio. “You are the Butler, although you would rather people call you the Priest, but it never stuck.”
The Priest?
Giorgio’s frown deepened. “And you are?”
“One would think my nickname was obvious.” He laughed.
Giorgio sighed. “Do they call you the Clown?”
“Good job, Butler. I would make you a balloon shaped in a nice little animal, but I do not know how to do that.” The Clown shook his head. “All I know how to do, is kill.”
Giorgio inched forward and lowered his guns to his sides. “That does not sound like a very nice clown.”
“Yet, I do well for myself.” The Clown cocked his head to the side. “Put your guns on the ground.”
Giorgio stepped closer. “Are you aware that you are interfering in something that—”
“Put your guns on the ground, Butler, or you will have quite a mess around you.” The Clown whistled. “One you will be unable to clean.”
Jesus Christ!
Boris, Giorgio, and I slowly set our guns on the ground.
Loud gunfire sounded far off and in the direction of the yachts. People screamed. Something exploded.
What is going on over there?
Since we were behind the restaurant, we had no view. It was just noise on top of noise.
Another explosion sounded.
The Clown turned that way.
Quickly, Giorgio seized the opportunity and charged for the Clown.
Be careful!
I grabbed my gun fast from the ground.
Right as Giorgio was a foot from him, the Clown looked at us,
“Back up!” The Clown pointed the gun at Giorgio and pulled the trigger.
Giorgio jolted to the side, barely missing the round. It skidded by him. Giorgio fell to the ground.
I shot the Clown’s leg.
“Ah!” The Clown jerked to the side and fell to the ground.
Giorgio jumped up and dove for him. They fell to the ground and wrestled.
I ran to them and aimed my gun at the Clown’s head. “Hey! Stop it!”
They froze.
Then, the Clown looked up at me.
I yelled, “Drop that fucking shotgun and get away from the Butler!”
Sighing, the Clown let it go. The shot gun tumbled from his hands and clattered against the ground.
Boris hurried over, picked up the shotgun, and checked for other weapons. “What is going on today?”
“Entirely too much, my friend.” Giorgio rose and brushed off his shirt and jacket with a handkerchief that he must have pulled from somewhere in his suit jacket. “It is quite a messy day.”
“Damn, clown.” Boris kicked over the black coat and revealed the silver bat.
“Oh, well. Nice meeting you, but bye-bye.” I got ready to pull the trigger.
“Do not shoot him, Blue!” Giorgio tucked the handkerchief back in his pocket. “The accent sounds Sicilian. I am pretty sure he is heavily connected. His death would probably trigger an even bigger war.”
We don’t need that.
I took my finger off the trigger.
Boris held onto the shotgun, left the bat by the coat, and looked at the Clown. “Should we pull off the mask?”
Giorgio let out a long breath. “I doubt we want to know who this is.”
I already know. I remember that face. Too gorgeous to forget it.
The Clown remained silent and stayed on the ground.
Giorgio studied him. “What I do not understand is why you are by yourself, masked, and trying to protect Ufuoma? I thought the Sicilians were staying out of this.”
The Clown said nothing.
Boris walked over to us. “Perhaps, it is love.”
Giorgio brushed the top of his jacket. “A Sicilian falling for a Nigerian. That would be a very tragic, secret Romeo and Juliet story, involving many bombs and lots of blood.”
“Plus,” I grinned. “Maxwell already decided that Ufuoma is his future wife.”
The Clown snapped his view to mine.