Dirty Macking – The Lion and the Mouse Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
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“We could, but we don’t need to.” I shook my head. “Listen, man. This world is all types of fucked up. When you get a minute to put your feet up, then put your fucking feet up. Because when the shit goes down, you need a relaxed mind to handle it.”

He held a skeptical expression. “And that’s what you were doing just now?”

I shrugged. “My side mission is to make sure we can trust Jean-Pierre.”

“Of course we can.”

“Says who?”

“Emily trusts him.”

“Em trusts me to make sure that she can trust him. That’s why you are you.” I touched my chest. “And I am me.”

“What?”

“I smoke. I fuck. I make jokes. But in the end, I’m the best person to have at your side, when shit gets popping.”

Boris snorted.

“So, next time I’m missing, do some fucking push-ups or something and mind your business.”

Boris leaned forward and kept his voice low. “I know what you’re truly trying to do.”

“Why are you so close to me?” I stepped back.

“You’re trying to fuck Eden.”

“I’m not trying, but. . .if you know. . .things happen. Would it be so bad?”

Boris shook his head.

I shrugged. “Relax. It’s just a little bit of dirty macking that’s all.”

“Dirty what?”

“Dirty macking. I’m sure they have some word for it in Russian. It’s when a guy attempts to mack on another dude’s chick. Nothing too hard core. Still somewhat respectable.”

“And why would you do that?”

“I didn’t say that I was for sure going to do it. But. . .I have my reasons if I so happen to slip between that beautiful woman’s thighs.”

A skeptical expression covered his face. “What reasons?”

“In Jean-Pierre’s case. It’s my revenge for him kidnapping Em. I’ve been quiet about it, but I’m not over it. The Lion has his way. I have mine.”

“If you mess with Eden that will cause a war between the French and Brotherhood when Jean-Pierre kills you.” Boris shoved his finger at my chest. “And he will kill you, if he catches you even thinking about it.”

I smacked Boris’s hand away. “And what if it’s our destiny to fuck?”

“Then, it would be his destiny to get his bow and slice your neck and I’ll have to carry your head home to the Mouse.”

“Okay. Hold on. He’s a bad dude. I get it. But, it’s not a hundred percent shot that he could kill me. I would say fifty-fifty.”

“If he is angry about you messing with Eden I would say one thousand percent.”

“Relax.” I held my hands out. “Have you not seen me work? You think I can’t handle him?”

“Anybody with a healthy mind would be scared of the Butcher.”

“I’m not.”

Jean-Pierre spoke behind us, “Are you sure about that?”

Fast, I had my gun out and pointed at him. “What the fuck?”

Unbothered, Jean-Pierre buttoned the top of his light blue shirt. “Is there a reason why, fighting me is being discussed?”

We both stared at him.

I put the gun back in my holster.

How much did he hear?

“No response?” Jean-Pierre finished buttoning his shirt and smoothed down the front. “Then, there we have it. I guess there’s no reason at all.”

Good. He didn’t hear the part about Eden.

“Now, onto more important things.” Jean-Pierre walked off and called back to us. “Let’s go, gentlemen. We are off on an adventure and cannot be late.”

I scowled. “Where are we going?”

“On a trip, Maxwell. Grab your passports and pack your things.”

I walked after him. “So, we’re going back to Italy?”

“Absolutely not.” Jean-Pierre pulled out his phone. “We’ll be heading in the opposite direction.”

Boris and I exchanged glances.

Where am I going now?

Since Em and I left New York, I’d been feeling like a great force has been pulling me toward something. I just didn’t know what.

However, this life force was constantly taking me somewhere, showing me things, like it had something to show me or like I was supposed to learn something about myself, or maybe about the world.

I didn’t know what the force was, or what it wanted from me. But I could feel it, like a physical presence, leading me toward my destiny. Maybe this force was God or the universe or. . .who knew what it could be.

And this force kept yanking. I felt it in every fiber of my being, in the way my heart beat when I left a place, in the way my breath caught in my throat with each trip.

It was always the intense feeling of excitement and burning anticipation, mixed with a large dose of fear.

This life is something else.

Chapter 1

The Clown Opera

H

ours later, we boarded the Butcher’s luxury jet.

Boris positioned himself in the far back with a book open. I had no idea what the title was since Russian decorated the cover.

Knowing he would be boring, I chose a seat in the middle and checked out the space.

The interior was sleek with all white, soft leather seats, a double bar of polished chrome, and a marble top table that could seat twelve. Mini-televisions were in the back of every seat.


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