On the Edge of Love (Mama's Brood Book 1) (30 page)

“I shouldn’t have sex with you again after what you said to me,” Sabrina said.

What the hell had he said? He couldn’t remember ever needing a woman to talk to him about what was bothering her, but in this instance, he needed her to tell him because he didn’t have a clue.

He palmed her breast, squeezed a nipple. A low, need-filled curse made him smile against her neck. Feeling encouraged, he urged her hips back down onto his erection.

Maybe this will be the one last time, he thought to himself. Or at least he thought he had. When she tensed above him, he knew that he had spoken the words out loud, said something wrong. Again. Fuck. Fuck!

He acted quickly, rolling her over so she was on her back and trapped beneath his weight.

“Let me go,” she said.

“Can’t,” he muttered as he stroked his nose against her temple. He liked whatever coconut-blended scent lingered in her hair.

“If not now, when, Zeus?”

Never. “Soon,” he lied. “Just tell me what I keep saying to piss you off.”

She turned her head away, tuning him out again.

He savored the contour of her jawline, her cheekbones, the steel in those molten-brown eyes, though one was still faintly discolored from the violence she’d endured during her abduction.

He ground into her, and her eyes fluttered closed, her hand tentative against his hip, as if uncertain whether she would pull him closer or push him away.

“I’m just the self-centered sociopath, remember?” he said, quoting her prior words. “It’s your job to make me understand.”

That last part wasn’t just a manipulation. He wanted to understand; he wanted her to be there to bust his ass over something he wouldn’t have considered.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. You can be as self-centered and crazy as you want to be. Just let me go.”

Her words incited the primal part of him that wanted to feed death and pain to anything and anyone who tried to keep her from him. That part of him wouldn’t let him let her go.
It
accepted that she was his the moment he’d touched her on the warehouse floor.
It
had claimed her and hadn’t let her get far from its reach since she’d first gazed up at him in all his bloody glory. Zeus didn’t comprehend relationships. He’d thought his attachment to Sabrina was purely physical because that was all it had ever been with women. When faced with the idea of losing her, he knew that there would never be one last fuck. Not until one of them was dead and buried. He knew this. She was as tangled up inside of him as the spirits existing in his blades. Maybe more. Sabrina was bound to both of them, Zeus and his spirits, and just as those spirits had claimed him as a boy, he would claim her as completely.

Lifting his weight off her, he reached over and pulled a blade from beneath his mattress. He gripped the material covering her body and proceeded to cut away at more of her clothing. Sabrina was so still he wondered if she thought she’d be disemboweled. Zeus hadn’t believed he could put someone else’s safety and protection above his own, his worldview hadn’t accommodated that kind of thinking, but for Sabrina he always would. It was his duty as her man.

Lowering himself back down, he slowly pushed into her until there was no place left for him to go. Sabrina moaned, arching into him, her breathing shallow, her warm wetness binding them together as efficiently as any vow or metal band ever could.

He retreated slowly from her body, feeling her muscles relax, then swiftly plunged back into her. This union they shared was simple. It didn’t need to be complicated. It burned away every pretense and left only their flesh and spirit.

Zeus allowed himself to succumb to their union, to let it overwhelm his senses. Sabrina pulled him into her. Her mouth consumed him until all that remained were grunts, screams, breath, heat, satisfaction, fulfillment, peace, darkness.

Chapter Fifteen

Briana sat on the bed beside Mr. Leman, caressing his wrinkled hand as he stared at her, still unable to talk the way he had before the stroke. She wiped the tears away from the corners of his eyes before they pooled in his ears. She hated when tears got inside her ears. Mrs. Aria sat beside Briana and wiped the wetness from her own face. Briana couldn’t cry. Tears wouldn’t come anymore. All she felt was scared.

Soon she would have to leave the Jaces’ home. Mrs. Aria couldn’t continue to take care of both Briana and Mr. Leman, even with all the nurses and therapists coming to the house to try and help Mr. Leman get better. Briana had let Mrs. Aria know she could take care of herself. She could even help take care of Mrs. Aria and Mr. Leman if she needed to. She knew how to clean and even how to cook a little bit. Mrs. Aria was old-school and felt like all women needed to know how to take care of their household. Briana had been making her bed since she was three.

Briana had tried to convince Mrs. Aria she could take care of them. She was smarter and stronger than her classmate Carrie Riley, and Carrie was in charge of helping take care of her younger sister and brother. Mrs. Aria had sucked her teeth and muttered something about Carrie’s trifling mother before she had turned to Briana and let her know it was
her
job to make sure Briana stayed a child as long as she could. She’d said it was only grown folks’ place to take care of grown folks’ business.

“Don’t cry, Mr. Leman,” Briana said. “Mrs. Aria promises I can come back home and visit whenever I can. We’ll still be a family, and you’ll get better, and maybe when you do, you guys can come and visit me at my new home.”

Mr. Leman nodded once.

Mrs. Aria stood up. “Come on, Bree. Let’s go finish dinner so Mr. Leman can get some food in him that will make him stronger.”

Briana smoothed her hand over Mr. Leman’s once more before standing and walking to the door.

“La ooo ba,’ girl,” Mr. Leman said from the bed.

Tears miraculously gathered in her eyes once again. “I love you too, Mr. Leman,” she said before fleeing the room.

Downstairs, in the kitchen, Mrs. Aria continued to let the greens simmer while the chicken baked in the stove and the potato salad cooled in the ’frigerator. Briana sat at the countertop, mixing the ingredients Mrs. Aria had prepared for the chocolate cake, her hand
accidentally
getting cake mix on it, forcing her to lick it away.

“You think my aunt cooks like you?” she asked Mrs. Aria.

Mrs. Aria snorted. “Child, don’t nobody cook like me, but I’m sure she’s good in the kitchen. If not, she’ll have you there to direct her.”

Ms. Maywether, Briana’s teacher, had said she was too good at directing others. Sometimes she also said “dictating to others.”

“You think she got the packet yet? You think she’s coming to get me soon?”

“What have I told you about being patient?”

“I know, but what happens if she doesn’t want me? Where am I going to go then?”

“You’re going exactly where your mother wanted you to go if the time came me and Mr. Leman couldn’t care for you the way she wanted you to be cared for.” Mrs. Aria stopped stirring the greens. “Do you know how blessed you are?”

She didn’t feel blessed. She felt scared and angry because she was losing everything she knew.

“Your mama loved you enough to take care of you from the day you were born and is still doing it even after the day she died. That’s how blessed you are. She loved you enough to make sure you were protected and loved well beyond the time even we were able to. If she says your aunt will come for you, well, you have no cause to doubt her.”

Briana knew she could get popped in the mouth if she reminded Mrs. Aria that her mother had also promised she would come for her when she was able—now she never would—so she stayed silent.

Her mother had set up a safe deposit box if the time ever came the Jaces could no longer care for her. Mrs. Aria had emptied the box the day she’d come home with the final packet for Briana. The next day they’d sent a same-day delivery to an address in New Orleans where her aunt had lived, but she didn’t live there anymore. Briana had gone on the Internet and searched for Sabrina Samora, only to come across the reports of a kidnapping of a Sabrina Samora out in California. The photos of that Ms. Samora resembled the ones left in the packet her mother had left for Briana. Though Ms. Samora was shades darker, she looked just like both Briana and her mother, Samantha.

From the news reports, Briana had located Ms. Samora’s new address in California and had given it to Mrs. Aria, letting her know she had found her aunt online. She didn’t tell Mrs. Aria about the kidnapping because the last report stated Ms. Samora was back home safe. Neither Mrs. Aria nor Mr. Leman used the computer often, so she doubted they’d learn about it. Maybe the people who had kidnapped her aunt were the ones that had kept her mother away from her.

Maybe because they were dead, it was safe for her to be with her family.

* * * *

Sabrina woke up driven by the need to get away, but she was squished between Zeus and the mattress. He lay half on top of her, half curled around her body, as if she were a well-used, malleable, spineless teddy bear…or he the bear and she the honeycomb he’d glutted himself on. Either way, before he woke up and she succumbed to her unfortunate tendency to welcome him into her honeyed recesses, she had to get away. She
had
to leave, to run, in order to protect herself. Protect her heart. It wouldn’t take another loss. Yes, she’d miss him. Yes, it would hurt once she’d gone, but it would hurt a lot less than whenever he arbitrarily decided he was done with her.

Sabrina tried to wiggle free of Zeus, but he grunted and held on to her tighter.

“Zeus, wake up,” she whispered.

He didn’t. It was as if sex was a drug he continuously overdosed on.

You just worry about kicking your own habit, she warned herself. She couldn’t believe it was possible to come so hard, or so often, in so few days. Sex with Ernesto had always satisfied him. And to be fair, he had given her pleasure sometimes, even though she had never had the primal orgasms Zeus ripped from her body.

Zeus’s breath rumbled in his chest, the vibration of his snores making her sensitive places more sensitized. She was doomed if she stayed here.

As she stroked his forearm, she plotted, resolving to simply give him what he wanted. If he didn’t want to be attracted to her anymore, she would help him not be. Any woman worthy of her gender knew how to push a man away. Once she was gone, she’d still have the protection of the Brood until Kragen was dead or in prison. It will work out, she promised herself. Everything would work out.

The next time Sabrina opened her eyes, the bedroom was empty. Zeus had woken her two more times to work off his lust, but he was no longer beside her. Maybe he had finally succeeded in fucking her from his system. Rising from the bed, she felt lethargic. She walked to the door and opened it.

The kitchen was full with the yummy smell of Zeus’s cooking. Her stomach rumbled. Zeus stood at the stove, sprinkling something green into a pan. His densely muscled back was bare and his jeans hung low on his hips.

He looked at her over his shoulder, then turned back to the stove. “Go wash up.”

She obediently walked to the bathroom, primarily because she was sticky and smelled to high heaven. She stepped into the shower feeling exhausted and heavy. She diligently washed him from her body. Washed him from her hair, her breasts, her face, her vagina. She didn’t need to walk back into the kitchen with any of those places resonating with his touch.

Stepping out of the shower, she dried off, walked to the mirror, and looked at the last vestiges of her kidnapping ordeal. Slowly but surely, she was returning to her prekidnapping state. I will always return to myself, she thought. Sometimes with pieces missing or lost, sometimes with new pieces that gave her a new understanding of the world or her place in it, but she always came back to herself.

Banging at the door made her jump and turn, snatching it open. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You’re taking too long. Food’s ready and I’m hungry.”

“So eat,” she hissed. It wasn’t like he’d cooked for her, anyway.

Zeus took a step forward, reached his hand under her towel, and touched the part of her that responded to him despite her willing it to stop. He stroked twice before pulling his hand away and lifting his fingers up for examination. He looked back at her.

“Thought you’d got your period,” he said, dropping his hand to his side, rubbing her slippery wetness over his fingers. “You’re acting like a b—”

“If you say what I think you’re about to say, I promise you I will make your big ass understand what it means to fuck with a force you don’t want to reckon with.”

Flat gray eyes took her measure…and disregarded it. “You’re acting like a bitch. I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”

She blinked. Watched him walk back to the table.

If she’d had just
one
of her blades as she walked to the table, she would have cut his dick off, diced it into bite-size pieces, and fed it to whatever demon-possessed wildlife was outside.

She retreated to her room after eating and cleaning the dishes. She changed into a T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. She threw on a pair of ankle socks and walked to Zeus’s room, climbing on top of the bed beside Zeus, who was watching another nature show, his back propped on pillows, one folded back and cradling his big head.

He didn’t even glance at her as she settled beside him.

Sabrina reached for the remote and turned the television off, plunging the room into shadows.

“Payback?”

“Call it whatever you want. You kept me up almost all night. I’m tired.”

She flopped onto her side, facing the door, and gave him her back. She tried to breathe evenly, tried to relax, but she was aware of him, so still beside her despite her provocation. She knew her anger, her attempts to irritate and punish Zeus, were more about failing to find that piece that was
hers
. Again. For some reason the tiny spark of hope, the enduring belief that if she opened herself
just one more time
, she would win the reward. Instead she got rejected. She sighed. It wasn’t Zeus’s fault or responsibility if she cared for, was possibly even coming to love him. It was hers. And she would deal with it. Like she always had.