Motown Breakdown (Motown Down #4) (24 page)

BOOK: Motown Breakdown (Motown Down #4)
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“Here’s something you should remember,” she says hopping up on the dresser just like Luna used to do. Only Luna wasn’t tall enough to scale the dresser so she stuck to countertops. “I’m easy going, not much rattles me. I prefer to live in my head where I control who lives and who dies. But my ideas come from somewhere and trust me, Shade, you don’t want to wander onto that playground.”

“Did you just threaten me?”

“This
brand
,” she says waving her arm carelessly. “Means shit to me. You mean shit to me. A month from now you still won’t mean shit to me. I came here to be inspired not play gangster games. Believe me, I have enemies scarier than you.”

All I could do was blink. How could you not like this female? Granted, I needed to shut it down but I won’t lie, I was enjoying the hell out of it. Like I said, she’s one you’ve got to watch. “Do you like steak?” I ask throwing her off.

“I’ll allow the subject change as long as you grasp that we’ll be visiting the topic again. And yes, I like steak. I don’t trust anyone who won’t eat it.”
Wise words…
Leading her back into the kitchen I forced myself to back off and allow her to get acclimated.

“Grab the wine and some dishes,” I point to the cupboard behind her. “I’ll start dinner.”

“On it,” she says flying into motion.

For the next thirty minutes, she kept herself busy prepping and drinking while I cooked. In all the years with Luna, I’d never cooked for her or her for me. It was either delivered or made by one of the staff.  Heading to the table to serve her, once I sat down I decided she and I had some things to discuss. And if I liked her answers, I might allow her to blow me under the table.

 

 

“Enemies,” he says cutting his steak. “How does an anonymous romance author gain enemies?”

“By hard work and writing stories
about
said enemies. But it’s not the bad guys I write about that are the problem. They love me for it. It’s the Detroit Police. They are less than thrilled with me.”

“The stories are actually true?” I ask. “They’re violent and you have a flare for weaponry, but you said you write fiction.”

“I do write fiction. The characters themselves are fictional, but the people who inspired them are the real deal. Like I said I exaggerate the story but the bones are authentic. It’s not like I’m lacking for inspiration. People do some fucked up shit around here.”

“Do you have names of these people?”

“Do you want the list or the top ten?”

“Ladies’ choice.”

“Gracious of you,” I tell him. “The pimp I shot in the ass? His name is Lucky Hernandez and it suits because he’s lucky I didn’t blow his ass off. Vic Colletta is a drug dealer who sells to kids, so I hit him with a stolen car then I took it drifting. He was a two-for-one. Oh and there’s the guy who own this bar over on – ”

“Stop,” he says pinching his nose. “You shot Lucky? You hit Vic with a stolen car? That was you?”

“Are you going to question everything that comes out of my mouth?”

“I can think of several more acquaintances that want an opportunity to meet you in person. Jesus Christ, Sun, even I’ve heard about you. It’s not enough you write that shit but you put your life at risk for a story. No wonder your stories felt real, they
are
real.”

“Why do you look so pissed about it?”

“Because you’re dangerous,” he says pushing away from the table. “You’re a ghost. Writing shit about people like them, like me, don’t want getting in the wrong hands.”

“Half the shit you people pull could be seen by anyone. That’s the problem with your egos, you think no one is looking. Someone is always looking.”

“Looking I can live with,” he growls. “Exposing it in print is entirely different. I know Lucky and Vic, they aren’t friends but we do business. If they ever find out who you are, I may not be able to protect you.”

“First, I don’t need you to protect me. Second, you do business with idiots. Third, my muse does what she wants when she wants. I listen when she speaks because when I like what she has to say and it’s illegal or immoral, I can blame it on her. Passing the buck, they say. However, if you’re second guessing taking me on then let me go, I’ve got a Plan B. Besides, they love me, ask them yourself.”

“You belong to me, I protect what’s mine,” he says low.

“Who talks like that?” I laugh. “For a month I’ll pretend to belong to you, how’s that? Face it, Shade, you can’t keep a woman who doesn’t want to be kept.”

“You are both right and wrong,” he says pacing. Apparently, I struck a nerve. “I
can
keep a woman who doesn’t want to be kept. Or, I can let her go,” with one arm on the table and one on the back of my chair he growls at me. “Did you really think you could come here, make demands and then walk away?”

“Well yeah,” I say with a look that made it clear I was sick of repeating myself.

“Then you made a critical error,” he says backing up. “No one walks away.”

“I’m not one of those women that needs a new life,” I remind him. “I need a best seller, there’s a difference.”

“And I need to get to work,” he says leaving the room.

“Can I come?” I ask jumping up like a labradoodle going for a walk.

“On one condition,” man he was cute when he was pushy. “You follow my lead. You do not engage or undermine my authority. If the situation is uncomfortable to you, let me know and I’ll get you out.”

“What should I wear?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Shrugging in confusion at his question, I followed him out to the sedan and climb in. I was going with him to work in casual clothing, while he was dressed like a runway model and that didn’t seem right to me. In my books, my characters dressed for the job. I kinda felt like a fraud. I decided that in my story I would be dressed in Dolce.

 

 

What should I wear?

A patient man would call bullshit, but I wasn’t patient and the problem was I knew she was fucking serious. Sun actually wanted to come with me. With my weapons already in the car, I get her inside and take off. In no way was she ever going to write this book but she didn’t know that. I planned to keep her so busy she won’t have time to even think about writing.

She got away with writing about the others but she sure as fuck wasn’t writing about the shit
I
do.

For now, I’d show her the dark side of life and see how she reacts. My money was on puking and begging to be released from our arrangement. Funny thing about begging, I liked it. She could beg all she wanted and she would still be in bed with me tonight. Sun wanted to be inspired, lucky for her I’m inspired by blood and her body.

Parking in the lot near the pub, I help Sun out expecting her to release my hand. She didn’t. Holding it, we walk inside taking a seat next together at the bar. “You can speak,” I tell her hating the quiet.

“I’ve been here before,” she says facing me. Her eyes had little makeup, same as her face. Fuck, she was too pretty for words. “The food sucks and the staff are pretty much evil.”

She was very astute, everyone who worked here was an asshole. Nick the owner of this dump owes me a lot of money, I was here to collect it or hurt him. He’s been dodging me and when I had to come looking for payment, it pissed me off. I have plenty of men working for me, but they had specific jobs. Putting my money in their hands was not a risk I was willing to take. In my line of work few could be trusted, even the men who’ve been with you since the beginning. “You aren’t wrong,” I tell her. Feeling the need to prepare her, I lean in and whisper in her ear. “Nick owes me money. He likes to gamble but recently decided to play hard to get.”

“But you’re harder,” she whispers back in a sexy voice.

“You have no idea.”

“I think I do,” she winks after nodding down at my cock.

Just then his bitch Leah spotted us and immediately zeroed in on Sun who sat there completely oblivious to the threat. Tossing a towel over her shoulder she bellies up and starts running her mouth. “He’s not here,” she says rolling her eyes at Sun who was picking through the pretzels and tossing them to the floor. “And before you threaten me, I don’t know where he is and even if I did, I wouldn’t say shit to you.”

“Is that right?”

“You ain’t gonna hurt me, Shade,” she laughs and hacks at the same time. “You sell bitches, you don’t hit ‘em.” Then looking at Sun more closely she leans on her elbow and asks, “How much did you cost?”

“I’m doing this for free,” she says propping her chin up on her hands putting them closer. “Think of me as his lay-away plan for the next month.”
Don’t laugh, do not fucking laugh
.

“Tell you what,” Leah says turning to me. “Leave your side piece here, take me in the back and fuck me. If I’m feeling generous afterward, I’ll tell you where I saw Nick last.”

“Did she just proposition you in front of me?” Sun asks clearly confused.

“I believe she did.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

“Sadly,” I sigh. “It does.”

“Do you take pussy as payment?”

“No,” I sigh again. “That’s bad business.”

Looking over at Leah, Sun nods and says, “Good call, Shade, because that snatch is
really
bad business.” Sun even plugged her nose and waved her hand in front of her face pretending to gag. Although, this was Leah we were talking about and Sun was closest to her so the gag may be authentic.

Leah was rowdy, feisty, and plain mean. Most days she was blown out which made her think she was invincible. She was also gearing up to fly across the bar at Sun who looked bored, yet oddly enough, prepared for it. Leaning forward further, putting her face in close proximity for Leah to nail her, she does the unthinkable. “Do it,” she taunts her. “Hit me, but only if you’ve washed your hands first.” Leah would attempt to do more than hit her, and I was prepared to intervene but only if things got out of hand.

“Bitch you don’t throw down a challenge in my bar and walk away from it,” Leah stalls.

“You have a great face for makeup,” Sun says getting so close that her ass sticking up out of the chair. Lunging forward with a scream, Leah attempts to jump up and over when Sun easily grabs the back of her head and smashes her face on the bars filthy surface. The crack was beautiful, the blood running from her face a symphony. Arms and legs flailing, Sun wraps her hand in Leah’s hair to prevent her from falling then with one arm lif
ts her to face me. “The next time you proposition a man, make sure that man doesn’t belong to someone,” she says before bashing her face in again as a reminder. “And tell Nick for every day he avoids Shade, I will find you and hurt you as payment.  Either way Shade’s happy. Now,” she says hoisting her up to face me again. “
Promise me.”

“I promise,” she whimpers.

“Are you buying it?” she asks me easily.

“Actually, I am,” I smile with pride. “You can stop playing with her now.”

“Kay,” she says knocking her out cold and not bothering to watch as she slides from the bar to the dirty floor. As much as I enjoyed this, people were staring now. Not that there were many here, but witnesses were witnesses. Sun looks at the two females with a group of males and throws her hair back pointing, “What would you have done if she asked to fuck your man?”

BOOK: Motown Breakdown (Motown Down #4)
10Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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