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“Not dark. Realistic.” I put my view back on the swamp. “What is a gun? It’s a form of protection. It’s. . .a sense of security. It empowers me and makes me strong in ways. . .I didn’t know I could be.”
Lunita’s violently smiling face flashed in my head.
I stiffened. “It is a realm where heartbeats align like gunmetal.”
A dark chuckle left Tisha. “You have become a poet, Kazimir.”
“But, I am not wrong.” I turned back to him. “You ask me what you can do to keep me calm? And my only answer is to get me to my mouse. Fast. So that I can make sure that she’s safe.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. The strands were damp from the quick shower.
Mysh. . .
I put my view back on the moon. “Love is a fucking unyielding firearm. It lies in wait. Its bullets. . .not lead, but raw fucking emotions.”
I lifted my right hand towards the moon and began to form it into the shape of a gun.
Delphine, you better keep my mouse safe.
I extended my thumb upwards, creating the hammer of the gun. My index finger pointed straight out, mimicking the barrel. I folded down the remaining fingers—my middle, ring, and little finger. They touched my palm, creating the grip of my imaginary gun.
There, I targeted the moon. “And if you have the right woman, Tisha, those emotional bullets will pierce through the air with every pull of the trigger.”
“You’re making me not want to fall in love at all.”
I gave him a sad smile. “You think you are protected from falling in love?”
“Perhaps, I should see if there are bulletproof vests for those emotional bullets you’re talking about.”
“Perhaps, because it’s impossible to dodge them.” I shook my head. “You think I went to New York long ago to fall in love?”
Tisha smirked. “I doubt it.”
“I showed up because I didn’t think Sasha was doing his job. My washer for America was dead. I figured I would catch the guilty idiot, kill him, get my cock sucked, and return to Russia.” I let out a long breath. “But then. . .I met the Mouse.”
“And the rest is bombs, blood, and dead bodies.”
“Once I saw Emily. . .” My heart hummed with desire. “And then I learned about her story and. . .”
I swallowed. “Not even the strongest vest could have blocked those bullets. Each shot fired engraved a beautiful scar. . .into my soul. . .”
“Then, I’ll wear ten vests from now on.”
Unable to help myself, I laughed. “Are you afraid to start sounding like me right now? A bumbling nervous fucking pussy-whipped idiot?”
Tisha raised his hands. “You said it, Kazimir. I didn’t.”
“Yet, we both know it is true.” I pulled my phone out, wondering if I should call Max again, but then the driver took us off the highway, telling me we would be there soon.
“I’m happy for you, cousin.” Tisha gazed at my phone. “But for me, love sounds like a double-edged sword.”
“No.” I put my phone back up. “It is a gun.”
“Fine. It is a gun.” Tisha chuckled. “And, a gun can protect. Sure. But it can also hurt, even destroy us. Isn’t love the same? It can be manipulative, possessive, and even abusive.”
I shrugged. “But, is it love, if it is misused?”
“Gunshot wounds can leave deep scars.”
