“I know about her first kill and the fire in the basement.”
“Her first kill.” He snorted without any humor. “I guess you were right.”
“About what?”
“You two did bond.” Maxwell glared at me. “And have you had sex with her?”
I didn’t usually answer a question like that, but I felt bad for this guy. He’d grown out of tragedy and it didn’t seem like things would be getting better for him. If he got in my way, when it came to Emily, I would kill him.
And what do I want to do with Emily?
I hadn’t decided, but I knew the time was coming up for me to leave New York. I’d learned enough and was close to why I’d come—finding out who killed Rumi. I’d just learned that Emily might’ve done it. I didn’t know Maxwell. It could all be a lie, but still I had to hear him out.
But what will I do with her?
When I connected the dots to why Sasha chose Emily to be my washer, then I would leave New York. There was no need to fight him in this city. He figured I was dead, and if I survived, he’d have the little Jamaican gang to come after me.
Sasha was such a small thinker, not understanding that I had more resources than him—presidents on speed dial. Had I not cared about America, I could’ve sent a fucking nuke to that brothel in the sky and leveled the Manhattan island and much more.
New York can thank Emily for saving it.
Maxwell waited for the answer and so I nodded.
“Yes, we’ve had sex,” I admitted.
Maxwell moved his finger on his side as if he wished he had a gun. “Are you going to kill her?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Why would I?”
“She killed Rumi.”
That wouldn’t be enough for me to hurt her, not with all that we’ve gone through.
“According to you, she did it.” I shrugged. “But why did Emily kill Rumi?”
“It’s hard to explain.” Maxwell walked out of the bedroom. “If you see the footage, you’ll understand.”
“You’re the one that took the security cam footage?”
“Yes.”
You’re the one that I should kill. I’m finding no reason to keep you alive.
I followed Maxwell, not wanting to leave Emily on the bed.
A door creaked.
We both stopped and turned.
Luka walked in with huge bags of Chinese food from the basement entrance. He froze when he saw us.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “He’s a friend.”
Luka scowled at Maxwell, and then his gaze took in the dead men around him. “This day will never end. I’m ready to leave New York.”
“Me too,” I said. “I am going next door to see the footage of Rumi’s murder.”
Luka’s jaw clenched.
“I’ll be fine.” I patted my friend’s back. “Watch Emily. But make sure you eat, clear the bodies, and make sure there’s food leftover for Emily.”
The big man nodded.
Maxwell muttered under his breath as he walked off to the front door, “And make sure Emily doesn’t wake up and kill you.”
I grinned, when he opened the door for me.
“You think that’s funny?” Maxwell watched as I walked through the doorway.
“It’s definitely an appealing character flaw for a woman. At least for a man like me.”
Maxwell led me out to the hallway. “I would rather have a chick with big tits versus her being a serial killer.”
I scrunched my face in confusion. “Serial killer?”
“Emily.” Chuckling, Maxwell walked over to his door, stopped, and unlocked it with a key. “Oh. . .you haven’t been paying attention, have you?”
Chapter 18
Maxwell
Why did Emily tell him? I don’t get it.
Emily never talked about shit like that. I couldn’t figure out why she would decide to confess it to the Russian of all people.
But, that’s not the only bad news. There’s more.
The Russian had sex with Emily.
I didn’t know if that would be a good or bad thing. Usually when guys slept with Emily, they wanted to do it again. So much that they stalked and tried to find ways to possess her. Sneaking into her place while she was sleeping. Creepy shit. Forcing her to work for them in some way that made her feel like she was in a bird cage.
Sometimes she killed them.
Other times, I killed them without her knowing. How could I not? Since breaking me out of that boys’ home years ago, Emily had taken care of me. I’ve never gone hungry or homeless with her. She always provided and made sure I was good to go.
What will this one do? What will we have to do?
I’d never had the pleasure of making love to Emily. I couldn’t help biology. I was the mirror image of my father. Thank God he’d been a good-looking man. Sadly, he was also a pedophile. He never touched me, but I’d later learned the truth from Emily and Kennedy.
Who knew if he’d bothered Xavier’s daughters too? He always loved to play hide and seek with us, always finding the girls first. He never caught Darryl and me. Emily usually outsmarted him many times, hiding better than us all.
And then one day he found her, and she didn’t want to play with him anymore.
But our families pushed it on her again and again, anytime there was a cookout or Sunday card game. And something twisted in her head. And the day she killed my father, she was never the same. Our lives changed. Her and Darryl’s father died in the fire. Xavier’s girls burned alive.
Emily went real dark after that, always playing with knives and screaming in the middle of the night. Xavier had us for three weeks.
We must’ve been the shittiest kids to have while he mourned. I fought kids all the time in school. Darryl stole anything around him, whether he wanted it or not. Emily just played with knives and hid in tunnels, making us all feel like scaredy cats. Xavier had to come up to our school every other day due to one of us getting in trouble.
Social services took us from Xavier. They didn’t believe he could take care of us, especially after the sketchy way his daughters had died in the basement fire.
They kept Darryl and Emily together because they were siblings and then threw me in a boys’ home. I grew suicidal, always having to be watched by a counselor. Emily damn sure didn’t get better. It was just her luck that the foster home she landed in had adults with touchy fingers.
By the second foster home, she’d run away with Darryl. They found me in a boys’ home and freed me.
And we never were caged again, running through the concrete jungles of New York, roaring and climbing. Hiding in sewers. Sleeping in libraries. Stealing our food from fruit and vegetable stands. Pickpocketing tourists in Times Square. Smoking thrown out cigarette butts. Living in the wild within skyscraper forests and brick valleys.
Does this guy understand that she won’t be trapped, not by anyone? And that where she went, I did too, never leaving her side, never letting anyone get too close to her?
The door shut behind us.
The Russian turned to me.
Why does Emily always fuck the big, scary guys? It’s going to be a bitch killing this one.
“How much do you want to know?” I asked.
She’s already told him secrets. Maybe, I could scare him away with the rest.