On the Edge of Love (Mama's Brood Book 1) (10 page)

She lunged to the side of the bed and fell on her hip. She scrambled back and pulled up the elastic waistband as she went. She leaped over the foot of the bed and crouched, looking up at Zeus, whose jaw ticked furiously.

“The edge is not off.” His voice was hard. “You made it worse. Fix it.”

She looked at his exposed penis. The thing was huge, rising up from dark bronze curls like a dusky gold obelisk. He was definitely hung like a god, but she would not be sacrificing her middle passage to him. She was only a mortal woman after all.

“I’m sorry, but I am never ever putting that thing in me. Ever.”

“You will. You’ll like it. All the females do. I’ll make you scream out again, louder and longer than before.”

Yeah, she thought, but will it be with pain or pleasure?

“You are a man with a hard-on. You’d say anything to get inside me,” she reasoned.

“Of course I would,” he grated out. “Just tell me what you want to hear.
You’re killing me
.”

“I’m sorry,” she panted, “but my lady parts aren’t well used. I’m sure there are women who would be eager to ride you hard into the sunset, so I suggest you find one.”

“Only you; that’s how it works. Come here and straddle me. You can decide how much you want to take in.”

She looked from his face to his erection. Maybe, that part of her that hadn’t stopped throbbing whispered, maybe I can squeeze him in, take as much or as little as I want. She would hold the control.

She stood and walked back around to the side of the bed until she was facing him. She stood between his spread knees as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked. More like snarled. A bead of milky fluid trickled down the head of the crown.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Not here, but I’m clean.”

Well, that solves that, she thought. She leaned over and reached for the waistband of his boxers, slowly working them back up his hips, over his penis.

“With a condom maybe, but definitely not without it. I’m not on birth control, and the last thing I want to do is get pregnant.”

He stood and walked over to the connecting door, glaring down at her as he passed her.

“Where are you going?”

“To do what you were supposed to do. Take the edge off. Again.”

“What about helping me with the bed?”

“You’ll just have to do the same as me. Take care of it yourself.”

He slammed the door on her. She then heard his door lock on the other side.

“Huh.” She frowned, gazing at the bed with covers more off than on. She looked back at the connecting door. If she wasn’t mistaken, she guessed she’d just witnessed a psychopath having a hissy fit.

She smothered a laugh behind her hands, sure that if he heard her, he would come back in and fuck her senseless.

She imagined him in the other room masturbating to images of her riding him; she imagined his hands squeezing her breasts as he suckled one nipple and then the other; she imagined… Her body heated and tingled again. It really had been too long if her body was craving someone like Zeus. Self-imposed celibacy made the most inappropriate people seem desirable. She sighed and made the bed. When she was done, she slipped out of the bedroom and headed down the hall in hopes of finding stairs to the next level before Zeus had a chance to come back for her.

Upstairs, Terry and Mama were sitting across from each other at the conference table and Big Country was seated in a chair with his back to her as he used the computer. Sabrina had opened the door that, once closed, wasn’t really a door but a wall panel. These people are so
I Spy
it makes me want to laugh, she thought, moving to stand behind the chair at the head of the table.

“Surprised to see you without your self-appointed escort,” Terry said in greeting. “Did you sleep okay?”

“As well as anyone who’s drugged is expected to sleep, I guess,” she said, folding her arms across the top of the chair and leaning against it.

Big Country whistled.

“Zeus.” Almaya spat out the name accusingly.

“He just wanted to teach me a lesson about trusting strangers. I guess I needed the refresher.” Sabrina mentally congratulated herself for sounding impassive.

“You’re right not to trust us to do anything but keep you safe,” Almaya said.

“I woke up with Zeus in my bed, Almaya.”

The other woman’s eyebrow rose, a subtle sign that she’d registered the change in how Sabrina addressed her.

“Well, sweetheart, you’re about as safe as any of us can be with Zeus in residence,” Big Country called over his shoulder.

“The men who originally took me may have beaten me up, but they didn’t drug me and pretend some kind of dubious protection. It’s crazy that the killer in my bed is the most honest among you. I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t see you all as saviors protecting me from some unknown bad man.”

Almaya reached for a folder on Terry’s side of the table. “Do you know this man?”

Sabrina leaned over and pulled the folder to her. Inside was a photo of a nice-looking, expensively dressed white guy. Something about him seemed familiar, but she didn’t remember him. She’d had contact with a lot of people in her life before coming to Oakland. She’d chosen to forget many of them. Based on the arrogance and disdain on the man’s face, she knew he had to belong to society’s elite. She didn’t hang out in those circles.

“I don’t remember ever seeing or meeting him before,” she said honestly.

“That’s Kragen. The man who had you kidnapped.”

Sabrina picked up the picture again. The guy was younger than she’d first imagined he would be, maybe in his early to midforties, well-manicured black hair, piercing blue eyes. Handsome but in a cold untouchable way. She tossed the picture back on the table. “I have no idea why this man would want to abduct me and only have your word that he did. I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but I’ve decided I want to go home while you settle your business with this guy. I have to be back to work on Monday.”

Big Country’s gave a derisive snort.

“I say something amusing?” she asked.

“Even if we let you go, you wouldn’t be returning to work on Monday. And you’d probably be dead within the week.”

Terry grabbed the remote and turned on the television. “We DVRed this last night. Just about every local news station was running the story.”

The bottom dropped out of Sabrina’s stomach as she watched the news report on her abduction. The good part was Randy was not dead, hadn’t even been injured. The bad part was he’d heard what had happened and had called the police. She would have been grateful if his vigilance hadn’t resulted in exposing her to a world she had fought to stay hidden from.

“Every station is running this?”

“Local stations, mostly,” Terry said.

Okay, maybe this won’t be covered nationally, she thought. She was only a black woman of little importance. If not for the blood and destruction in her place, as well as Randy’s bent toward the dramatic, this probably wouldn’t have even registered beyond a police report. Maybe after today the local reporters would be on to bigger game. Maybe her face wouldn’t be seen on television stations in Florida. Maybe Ernesto Diaz had become deaf and blind. He was already slightly dumb. Maybe he had stopped looking for her long ago, abandoned the drug trade, and returned to Cuba in defeated shame. Shit. That was a hell of a lot of maybes, and the way her luck was running,
maybe
she’d better prepare for the worst.

“I need to get back home.”

“I believe you’re a resourceful person, but that’s not a good idea. The man after you has more resources, and he has already used them to get to you. You go home and he will take you, and you will never return to your home or your life again,” Terry said.

“All we’re asking is that you give us a little time,” Almaya added. “Yes, we want to keep you safe, but we also want to take down Kragen permanently. Whether that’s through exposure and jail, or death. His actions should earn him multiple death sentences. Death would be my preference.”

“So this is personal for you?”

“Inasmuch as justice is personal,” Almaya said, pushing another folder toward Sabrina.

She didn’t outwardly flinch when she opened it and saw the bodies. Mostly black and brown women. Bruised. Ligature marks around wrists, throats, ankles. No stabbing, no gunshot wounds she could see.

“Of course the physical similarities are evident in each victim, though they come from different socioeconomic backgrounds, different cultures—African, Afro-Caribbean, African American, all living in the US. Some of the women have kids, some don’t. Some have been married for years, and some are single. Some have large families, and some have no known relatives at all. We are aware of at least ten victims in the US, but Kragen travels internationally. The only common denominators are that all these women were raped and beaten, and they all resemble you, Sabrina. If I’m reluctant to let you leave my house, it’s because I don’t want you to end up another dead body in a photo.”

“If he’s done all this, why isn’t he in jail?” Sabrina asked the question, but it was rhetorical. She knew the answer.

“Resources,” Terry said.

“Translation: a heritage of money and power,” Big Country said from his station. “With someone like this ol’ boy, you have to come with a case already made before you can even get close enough to breathe hot air on the back of his neck. Even then, a conviction is a long shot.”

“We’ve got a man inside the Consortium; the group of men and women bound by money, power, and this shared desire to prey on anyone considered a lesser being. Our inside guy was investigating a man Kragen is close to and became curious about Kragen,” Terry said. “Relatively speaking, Kragen’s not a big fish within the organization but the son of the big fish. If our operative wasn’t such a cat, no one would have made the link. It’s taken us almost eight months to get the little we have. Kragen is a bad man, Sabrina.”

“And he’s got you in his sights,” Almaya said, collecting the photos and placing them back inside a manila folder. “You’re right. It is wrong to keep you here against your will, even if it’s for your own protection. It’s still imprisonment. It was also wrong to drug you. I apologize.”

“Why did he do that to them?” Sabrina asked. She had seen plenty of violence, death, but this was different. This had the putrid rot of something evil. Ernesto’s cruelties didn’t compare.

“There is no reason I could give that would justify what he’s done. The why doesn’t matter to me. All I care about is that he did it.”

“You’re sure it was him.”

“I am.”

Sabrina sat at the table. It was true; if this man was after her, she couldn’t just go home and live life as normal. She had a gun and knew how to use it well, but she couldn’t realistically return and pretend everything would work itself out. She would be checking over her shoulder every other minute, not trusting anyone—new faces or old—because she knew people could be paid off, and sometimes it didn’t even have to be for a large amount of money. Sometimes all it took was a new car, a television, a fix. Sometimes just the assurance that the person wouldn’t kill your family, and
voila
, sold out.

“As much as I hate to say this, if you want to leave, I won’t stop you,” Almaya said. “I will make sure you arrive at your place safely, maybe have—”

“Two reasons that’s not going to happen,” Zeus said behind her. She turned to see him leaning against the sill of the door-wall panel that led to the lower level. The man moved about as soundlessly as smoke. “One, she’s mine. No one takes what’s mine anywhere but me.”

“And two?” Terry asked.

Zeus looked at Sabrina. She could see the obsessive desire lurking in his gaze. He was irritated with her; she knew this because the blade in his hand was doing acrobatics at an alarming speed. It was amazing his hand wasn’t a bloody mess.

He wasn’t going to part from her until his need had been satisfied. After that he would probably escort her to Kragen without hesitation or remorse.

“Two, he hasn’t fucked me yet. That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it, Zeus?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“If you say so,” he said, walking over to the table. He stopped and squatted, elbows on knees, close to her chair. “Don’t be mad because I tell the truth. You know what I want. Give it to me and it’s done.”

“The man is like a broken record,” Big Country muttered.

“I’m showing you all an indulgence. I usually don’t have to repeat myself.”

Sabrina turned, facing him head-on. She placed her hands on each side of his face and leaned toward him, pulling his face so close their noses nearly touched. “You keep bothering me about having sex with you, and I will take one of your blades and stab you in the throat.”

He smiled that eerie smile as he leaned closer, pressing his lips to hers in a simple kiss that shouldn’t have had her body fighting her for more. He pulled back, and she barely stopped herself from following. He knew she wanted him. “I’ll let you have your way with my knives if you let me have my way with your body,” he said coolly as if sitting at a negotiation table.

She sat back and removed her hands from his face. He was going to drive her as crazy as he was. He was literally going to make her lose her mind, and she needed her mind. She blinked and took a deep breath before facing Almaya. Zeus stood and hovered at her back like gold-colored demon wings.

“This guy Kragen wants me, right?”

“Yes.”

“So why not give him what he wants.”

Big Country rose and ambled toward the table, sitting down beside Terry. “He wants
you
, Sabrina.” Big Country said the words as if she had gone simple.

“I know. That’s all I’ve heard since I regained consciousness. If he wants me, take me home and he’ll come for me.”

“I don’t understand. You’ll let him beat, rape, and kill you, but you won’t let me fuck you? Doesn’t make sense,” Zeus said, frowning down at her.

“He won’t get me unless you all screw up. Don’t screw up.” She turned back to Almaya. “You want justice, and I can help you get it. When he comes back for me, as you all keep saying he will, you’ll be there waiting. You take your justice, and I take my life back.”