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)
My cousin had become a bit. . .odd where Maxwell was concerned. If anyone knew the exact location of Maxwell at any time, it would be Misha.
Wassily nodded. “I will get him immediately.”
But will Maxwell be able to truly help tonight?
Last time I had seen him, he had stormed out of the room in the middle of Lunita's speech about the wedding on the roof. It was clear that as a little girl—Emily or. . .Lunita—fantasized about marrying her best friend. Perhaps, she saw Maxwell as the one person that truly loved her, and hoped to be together with him forever.
Flowers in the hair. . .
My heart ached.
Lunita’s words had shaken me to the bone. I could barely comprehend the pain and sadness that I experienced just from hearing of her suffering as a child.
How did Maxwell feel? Angry? Uncomfortable? Brokenhearted?
I looked back at Wassily. “If Maxwell seems upset. . .let him stay in his room.”
“Yes, sir.”
I needed him tonight, but even more Emily would need him in the morning. If it were a question of her or me getting Maxwell’s help, it would always be her.
Maxwell had to be mentally strong.
Perhaps, I. . .should get Misha involved with. . .helping him?
The elevator slowed, then stopped at the top floor.
The doors slid opened.
I walked off with Emily.
Wassily remained in the elevator.
Several of my men waited for me in the hallway.
Keeping my mouse close to my body, I headed to our suite.
Come on, Maxwell. Please be okay.
One of my men rushed forward and opened the door.
To my surprise, the scent of weed drifted to my nose—earthy and fruity fragrance.
Maxwell?
I stepped inside.
Is he here?
The smooth sound of a saxophone filled the large suite.
Next, Maxwell’s voice sounded from the master bedroom. “Ladies, put the towels over there and light some candles. It will keep us all at ease.”
Relief washed over me.
Thank God.
I carried Emily into the suite.
Once I entered, I spotted three female members of Harlem Crew. They hurried to me and held out their arms.
I didn’t see him, but Maxwell's voice sounded from the balcony. “Yo, Kazimir. Give Em to Inessa, Luda, and Anya. They know what to do.”
But I do not know them.
I pursed my lips, not wanting to let her go.
“Come on, man.” Maxwell appeared at the balcony's opening and blew out smoke. “It's already going to be a long night. Give Em to them.”
“What are they going to do?”
Maxwell frowned. “Anya used to have a little salon in some place called Korolev—”
“That is outside of Moscow—”
“I don't give a fuck where it is. Anya knows how to do hair better than the both of us.” Maxwell gestured to the woman. “So, let Anya get Em’s hair together first. Then, we will wash Em up.”
I pierced them with my gaze. “Take care of Emily and make sure—”
“They know what to do, man. Give Em to them so we can talk.” Maxwell walked back out on the balcony, leaving a trail of smoke behind him.
All three women took Emily from me. One had her upper body. The other carried the middle. And the last held onto her feet.
“Be careful and very gentle.” I sneered. “She’s pregnant.”
As they carried her off, Anya bobbed her head. “Yes, sir. We will be very careful.”
You better be or I will kill all of you.
I watched them disappear into the bathroom with my mouse.
The separation didn’t ease my already frazzled nerves. If anything, my chest began to hurt.
Can I truly trust these women?
Maxwell yelled from the balcony, “Man, if you don’t get your ass out here.”
The jazz song shifted to a new one. A gong banged. Cymbals came next. Then, some other instrument began playing four notes over and over.
Then, a saxophone played, making sense of all the notes and pulling the song into a meditative rhythm that calmed the tempo.
I headed to the balcony.
The jazz music followed.
Outside, thousands of stars lit the dark sky and surrounded the bright, half-full moon. There would be a few more days before it would be full. Cool air brushed against my skin.
Tapping his foot to the jazz song, Maxwell stood by the railing.
For a second, my mind went to last night. Emily and I had made love on this very balcony in the rain. It had been such a perfect moment. Our wet skin slipping against each other. Our moans colliding with the sound of the storm.
And so much pleasure.
I swallowed down all my regret, wishing I could return to that moment.
Mysh. . .
I walked over and stopped at Maxwell's side.
Without looking my way, he handed me an unlit joint and a lighter. “I figured you would need this, and you can't smoke mine because you're always spitting all over it.”
I took the joint and lighter. “I am surprised you are here.”
“Me too.” Maxwell continued to smoke his own joint. “Lunita. . .everything she said. . .that shit fucked me up in the head. I don’t know if I will ever be okay.”