“Get away from me and go outside.”
“Please! Don’t let me die, man!” I gently bumped into him and grabbed his shirt with one hand. “I swear I’ll stop flirting with—”
He shoved at my arms, trying to make me let him go. “Get your hands off me—”
“Please! Please!” I slipped the other hand into his pocket, grabbed his phone, and held it behind me. “Just—”
“I will shoot you myself.”
“Okay. Okay.” I stuffed his phone in my back pocket and scooted away. “I just had to try.”
“Get the fuck out of the car, Maxwell.”
Chapter 4
Vietnam
S
lick bastard. He knew what I was up to the whole time.
Now out of the Bentley, I walked over to Boris, shifting into serious mode. Perhaps, I should have been in that mode the entire time I hung with the French.
In my defense, once I’d arrived at the Pansy’s beach house I shifted to vacation mode.
Dark clouds hovered in the sky above, pierced by the shimmering rays of the setting sun. The air, once full of pine and wildflower scents, now smelled like oncoming rain.
Frowning, Boris got to my side. “You see what you did? The guards caught me up on Jean-Pierre’s plan. He’s pissed that you have been laughing it up with Eden and— ”
“Give me a minute to think.” I assessed the rest of the property.
The house was silent, as if it were holding its breath and waiting for shit to go down.
I scanned the rest of the area.
The whole scene was one of desolation and abandonment. The grass had gone wild and stood tall. The bushes and trees surrounding us, were as bare and shaggy as the house. A light wind blew through them, and they swayed back and forth in a haunting dance. Everything gave the appearance of being unkempt.
Timur knows we are here, but he hasn’t come out yet. Why not? That doesn’t seem right.
I scrunched my face in confusion. “For a man that only lives out here by himself, one would think that he would keep the place up.”
Boris scowled. “You think this is a joke?”
“Why isn’t he clipping the bushes and taking care of the property?”
Boris motioned to my jacket. “Did they take your guns too?”
“Naw. The stewardess grabbed mine in the bathroom.”
Groaning, Boris said something in Russian.
I pointed at him. “You better not be cursing me out.”
“I am definitely cursing you out.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What did you say?”
“Something about your mother.”
“I’m going to kick your ass when I get us out of here.”
Boris sneered. “How are you going to get us out of here?”
“I’m thinking.” I put my view back on the property.
"Maybe we can run past the cars and—”
“Jean-Pierre’s men will take out their guns and make us turn back around.” I checked the ground leading to the steps. “Hmmm. Where’s the church?”
"What church?"
“Jean-Pierre said that dude created a religion and built a church.”
Confusion hit Boris’s face. “What’s the religion about?”
“Don’t know. But what I do know is that his congregation is wood people."
“What do you mean?”
“Doesn’t matter. Do you see the church?”
“No.”
“Doesn’t make sense. Dude made a religion. His church would be next to his house.”
“Maybe, it’s further away.”
“Wherever it is, he would live near it.”
“Why?”
“Because he went crazy and his church is the only thing keeping him sane.”
“How do you know that? Did Jean-Pierre say he went insane.”
“Motherfucker, I just told you that his congregation is wood people. And did you not see the signs promising death? He’s crazy.” I shook my head. “And he’s in the ugliest part of California. Fucking ugly ass mountains and cattle and a torn up house. Dude is not mentally okay.”
Boris sighed. “They want us to go up and knock on his door. Maybe when we do—”
“We have to get to the door first and I don’t trust this place to just skip up like an idiot. Something is weird about the house.”
Boris glanced back at the cars. “His men are getting out.”
I kept my focus on the property. “The steps are swept, but the porch is covered in wildlife. And leaves and sticks are covering the ground like he doesn’t come out to that area.”
Boris let out an exasperated breath.
“I don’t think this is where he lives. I bet his real house and church is further behind this spot.”
Jean-Pierre’s voice sounded behind us. “Go up to the door, Maxwell!”
I glanced behind me.
The Butcher and the rest of the Pansies men had now left their vehicles. Most had their guns at their sides.
“Give me a minute, motherfucker.” I looked back at the house and kept my voice low. “This man, Timur, has all these signs warning you not to come and he hasn’t even jumped out his house with his shot gun to yell at us. Why not?”
Boris studied the house as if for the first time. “Maybe. . .there’s traps or something.”