Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“Well, would you look at that? The deserter got bored of the show and left you high and dry. You’re expendable, just like everyone else in Lucifer’s life. Fred, from that wedding band you’re sporting, you’ve got a wife, and from those loafers you have on, you have kids.” Fred gave him a confused look. “There’s a fucking green marker scribble on the side of your shoe.”
Utter defeat registered on the man’s face.
“I will come to wherever you are—your home, hotel, a flat in London or a high-rise in China—and pop your wife in the heart without blinking an eye, knock off those brats of yours with a machete, and poison the family dog, too. Don’t make me do that.” Roman tossed him a faux sad face. “I like dogs. Kids ain’t so bad either. But that’s exactly what will happen if I even think you’re sniffin’ around me again. This is a gift from me to you. A one and only warning. I’m letting you live, but only because I don’t want blood splatter on my damn clothes tonight. I happen to like this shirt a lot. If you do your research and look me up, little dark web investigator, you’ll discover that I’ve done some shit in combat, and just my general life, that would put you in a mental hospital for the rest of your days if you even thought about it. Don’t make me prove to you just how serious and outlandish I am. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes. Yes!” The man’s complexion was splotchy and blood red.
Roman did a quick search of the guy’s car, looking for additional weapons, keeping his gun trained on him the entire time. He found a knife in the glove compartment, and another gun under the driver’s seat. He quickly pocketed those.
“Try anything slick, and your plan will flop. Like any ideas you might have of tryna run me over before I blow your back tires out and then strangle you to death. Not to mention, if I’m killed, I already sent a picture of your license to someone who will take over where I left off.” Roman jammed the car keys in the ignition, then walked back to him and untied the man’s wrists. “GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE.”
Fred quickly jumped onto the driver’s seat, sparked up the engine, and hightailed it out of the alley, tires squealing all the way. Roman stood there watching him fly like a bat out of hell. Taking a deep breath, he walked back to the restaurant. It took about twenty-minutes but felt like twenty seconds. Then, he summoned the valet for his car. Once he was in his black Camaro with China red interior, he turned on his playlist. Hanumankind’s, ‘Big Dawgs,’ featuring Kalmi blasted through the pulsing speakers. Roman bobbed his head to the music as he zig-zagged through the streets, flying like an airplane.
After the song was over, he turned the music down and played his voicemails over the Bluetooth that he missed while on his date and his meeting with Fred. Genesis had turned her phone off… He smiled as he played that over in his mind. Loving that she wanted to give her full attention to their time together. Respect. He’d already turned his phone off before she’d even walked into the eatery. He didn’t want to miss a word she said, or a move she made.
He listened to the voicemails one after another. There were a few work-related ones, and then, there was one from Tony.
“Hey, man. It’s me, Tony. I thought about our last conversation, and uh… I spoke to Gen yesterday, too. She said y’all were going out tonight. I was mad all day, but then I thought about it… and uh, I was wrong for how I reacted. We’re not the same people we were all those years ago, Roman. I wasn’t being fair to you when I brought up your family, either. That doesn’t mean you’ll be like that to my sister. I was… I was wrong. She’s not a kid. I’m protective of my family, man, and I know Genesis is strong and can handle herself. Besides, your family, too. You’re my friend… I love you just like a brother. I believe you when you tell me you would never intentionally hurt her, man. Maybe this time will really be different because of who I am, and because of who she is… but mainly because of who you are now in life, and who you are tryna become. Just treat her right, man. If it’s just one date, or a million, just treat ’er right…”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Money and Books for Crooks
Grandpa Wilde walked inside his expansive greenhouse, placed his black and gold cane with a handle shaped like a goat head with sapphires for eyes, against a glass-paneled wall, and inhaled the fresh air. Flashes of light streamed from east, west, north and south, creating prisms of color. He walked slowly down the narrow aisles. Many of the plants were covered in a fine mist from the timed interior sprinkler system. He could smell the scent of wet earth. His groundskeepers had created the greenhouse to provide him with fresh flowers in many of the rooms of his mansion, as well as various herbs for the chef prepared meals. He stroked a cotton candy pink dahlia with a creamy yellow center. This was her favorite flower…