Surviving Brooklyn (Brooklyn Series Book 1) (13 page)

“I am not going to go to the airport,” I whispered.

“You’re staying.” Mark looked relieved.

“Taylor and I came to an understanding. You are going to be given immunity and my dad cleared. Plus, I am going to help the FBI catch the Cut-Me-Not killer.”

Mark studied me intently. He knew there was more I wasn’t saying. I could see his internal debate of asking whether or not he wanted to know.

“Brooklyn, men don’t do things for free. What does Taylor get out of it?”

“Mark, do you really need to know? It’s a way you and I can be together if you want me.”

Mark’s arms tightened around me and he breathed me in. I leaned my head back on his chest and stared at the star that flickered in the distance.

“Brooklyn, what do you have to give up for my freedom?” Mark asked in a rushed whisper.

“Myself.”

“No. I won’t let you. I am not worth that, Brooklyn.” Mark let me go.

“Do you want to be with me?” I asked softly.

“More than my next breath. I want to marry you and have babies with you. I want to carry you on my arm everywhere we go so I can keep you safe and show you off. God, Brooklyn, I am nothing without you.”

“Then to me, you are worth it.” I jumped down off the rail, and wrapped my arms around him, telling him everything would be okay. I saw Taylor descending upon us quickly as I wrapped my arms around Mark’s neck and pulled him down to me.

“Don’t kill him. It’s only sex in exchange for your freedom,” I whispered into his ear.

“Are we headed to the airport?” Taylor asked, wanting to know if I had made a decision.

“No.” Before Mark could interrupt, I covered his lips with my hand and started again. “I will stay, but we should go over the terms and conditions.”

Taylor grinned and took his phone out. I heard him saying I was willing to work with the FBI before he stepped away and I couldn’t hear him any longer.

“Brooklyn, don’t do this for me. I can’t ask you to do something like this,” Mark said.

“You can give me something in exchange.”

“What can I give you that would compare to what you are giving me?” Mark asked.

“Every night I come home to you after spending time with him. I want you to take me in the shower and scrub him off me. Then I want you to take me to bed and claim me as yours over and over again so his touch will become a distant memory and the only touch I will know will be yours.”

Sorrow rushed through me for what he must be feeling. To have something you want but can’t have unless what you want is sacrificed. It didn’t seem fair when I thought of it that way

“Terms and conditions are as follows,” Taylor started. “First, you answer to me and only me at the office. You earned your place there, so let me pick your cases. I will give you some tough ones, but I think you need to be challenged. Second, you will do whatever the FBI tells you to do. The director is flying back in two days to brief you over what they want you to do. You will be guarded as before, but it will be with fewer uniforms and more street clothes personnel.”

Taylor stopped talking and looked at Mark. I nodded that he knew, inviting him to continue.

“I can have the paperwork signed and completed by morning for both Mark and your dad. After they have their walking papers, you belong to me. I may never call on you to do anything more than work longer hours, or I may call on you to be what I eat for lunch. I may call on you to paint the walls in my apartment. Whatever it is, you cannot say no, ever!”

It was my dream all over again. I was being fed to the devil when trying to stand up for someone else. I nodded my acknowledgment and pulled Mark back to the Escalade. We all gathered inside, and drove to the office so Taylor could get the paperwork done.

I sat on the top of my desk with Mark in between my legs. God, I loved this man. He brushed back my hair and kissed me lightly all over. It tickled and I began laughing as Taylor entered the room. It was nearing sun-up as I read over both sets of papers. Mark signed his begrudgingly. Now it was time to call my dad.

I picked up the office phone and called, but I got his voicemail. Something caught my eye on the television in my office and I turned it up. We saw hundreds of people with black hair and blue eyes marching across the road, heading to the courthouse.

“Upon hearing the news of another two victims, the people have come together to show a united front against the killer.”

They were chanting in the background.
“Stop Killing and Start the Healing.”

The newscaster even donned a black wig and continued the story, explaining that we would all look like those who are targeted so he wouldn’t find another victim so easily.

Chapter 13

A week had passed by and I still had not heard from my dad. I left him voicemail after voicemail. We had gotten the signed papers back, so I knew he was all right, but something felt off.

Taylor had not asked for anything yet, but I never let my guard down. I was constantly in the courtroom or being briefed by the FBI. I accepted every piece of advice they threw my way except I was still going to wear my gun everywhere I went. Some days in the meetings, I envisioned putting a target on their backs and seeing how they liked being told they could not arm themselves.

The killer had taken out another two victims, but he had gotten people who were dressed like me. They weren’t trying to be me like he had claimed. The crime scenes got messier, and the profiler said he was beginning to spiral out of control. He thought the killer would make a move against me soon.

I stacked papers on my desk when I heard a buzz from the intercom.

“Mr. Cross would like to see you in his office,” my secretary said.

I pushed the button, accepting the message. I walked out the door and headed up a floor to the large conference room where Taylor had taken up residence as the case file became larger on this killer.

“Mr. Cross, you wanted to see me?” I asked quietly, never knowing what it was he wanted.

He took me by the elbow, leading me out of the conference room. We went down the hall, and inside the office next to his.

He immediately unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off of me. He unzipped my skirt and let it fall. I was standing in the middle of the office wearing a white lace bra and white lace panties with black stiletto heels. I closed my eyes and imagined I was anywhere else.

I felt wind as he moved past me and heard the closet door open. I felt something scratch my skin as my hands were being tied together with braided rope in front of me. He must have done this before because the sailor’s knot was nearly perfect.

Then he picked me up and carried me into the closet. I looked questioningly at him but said nothing.

“The closets are soundproof in case you scream or moan, since I know you are partial to both,” he explained.

I took a deep breath. This is what I had agreed to. I took another deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“You nervous?” Taylor asked as I continued my deep breaths and stared at the rope that was marking my skin.

“A little,” I admitted.

“Would you like your boyfriend to watch?” He turned on a monitor and the camera above it. “Do you want him to join?”

I shook my head. There was no way I could allow Mark to see what I was about to do. It would break his heart.

“What do I do now?” I asked. I had given myself to only a few men and understood what was expected, but when it was demanded it should come with instructions.

“You and Mark enjoy your day. You should start by expecting the worst and hoping for the best,” Taylor explained in a rush. He opened the door, and Mark walked in. “You know, Ms. Montgomery, I would never force myself on anyone who didn’t want me. You were willing and ready to go the distance to hold up your end of the bargain. I have to say it is noble, and one day I will be inside you again, but you will beg for it when it happens.”

Surprising me, Taylor left the room. All of a sudden I was alone with Mark and a bunch of sex toys that said Taylor had a pervy side to him.

“I didn’t want you to come for him. I didn’t want you to ever have to do that for me.” Mark pushed me against the wall. He wasted no time moving my underwear aside and pushing into me. His pants hadn’t even hit the floor when I felt the burn of his entry.

The familiar stretch of him was comforting in the words he had just said. He was chaotic and everywhere at once. I pushed my face forward until his lips were locked with mine. He still covered every inch of me with his hands.

“Mark, I’m yours. Only yours. Now make me your bitch,” I whispered with a grin, and bit his neck. I felt him smile as he pulled out and pushed back in. I moaned into the closet and winked up at the camera just for Taylor.

“Shouldn’t you untie me so I can play, too?” I asked as he pulled me off the wall. He stopped and stared at me for a moment, realizing my hands were still bonded together by rope. He pulled out of me and set me on the ground. Unsteady on my legs, I dropped to my knees.

He pushed his cock near my face and I sucked it in as far as I could. I tried to reach up and wrap my hand around it, but it wasn’t working.

“God, Brooklyn, that’s good,” Mark muttered as I worked twice as hard since I couldn’t use my hands. I could taste me on him and it was a thrill to know he was mine and I was his. A new rush of moisture flooded my thighs. I needed him to come for me. I needed that renewed feeling of want. He tried to pull out as his cock swelled, but I sucked him and walked on my knees to follow.

“Brooklyn, I am going to come,” Mark gritted through his teeth. I pulled back and smiled.

“So come, then.” I sucked him back into my mouth and swallowed down on his cock. I watched as he fought on whether to grab my hair or the wall. He went for my hair and pushed me onto him as the first spurt flew. I swallowed it down in a rush and milked him for more. By the time I had licked him clean, he was out of breath and I was needy.

Mark pulled me over to a bench and bent me over it. I heard him grabbing for something and looked behind me to see he had a pink toy. I watched him turn it on and place it inside me. It was an egg that vibrated.

I sucked in air through my teeth as Mark climbed under the bench and watched my face. When I got close, he tugged the string and pulled it out. I whimpered and he placed it in me again. I quickly rode right back up the climax cliff for him to pull it out again. I thought I might die from a lack of orgasm.

My body tensed and my skin burned. I needed him. I needed this from him.

“Mark, please,” I moaned.

“You beg so sweetly. Beg me. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you inside me.” I stuttered as he placed the egg back in me again. Then Mark put his finger in my mouth.

“Like this? You want me here? With my finger?” he asked, being a smart ass while I was a quivering ball of need.

“I need your cock inside me, please,” I begged. Mark scooted out from under the bench and pulled the egg out once more. I was ready to scream in frustration.

I felt his tongue penetrate me and it began sliding in and out of me. I mewled with need. Then he placed the egg back inside me and turned the vibration to low.

I seethed the air in the room as he pulled me down to sit on his face. I was thanking God and seeing stars as I climbed back up the cliff. My stomach tightened and I clamped down on the egg. My toes curled and my heart raced. I screamed a guttural cry as I climaxed on his face.

Mark pulled the egg out and replaced it with his finger, hitting that rough patch and sending me higher. I needed to scratch or hit something, but my arms were bound together.

I tried to stand up and get away from his assaulting tongue, but he held me in place to take what he gave. He used his fingers to replace his tongue and pulled me down. I had asked him to claim me and that was exactly what he was doing. He pulled me down over the top of his cock and I lowered onto it slowly. My vaginal walls still tremored with the remnants of my orgasm.

“Take us home, baby,” Mark whispered as he wiped the sweat off my brow. I placed my roped hands on his chest and pushed up off of him and lowered myself back down. I lifted a leg and spun on his cock to hear an intake of breath from Mark.

I leaned forward to get that one spot I knew and began riding him like a cowgirl. The new position had us both moaning. Mark grabbed my elbows and pulled me back a little to get more of him.

It wasn’t long and my body was ready to go again. I clamped down on him and he released my elbows. He spanked my ass to cheer me along to get to the finish line. I tried to grab my breasts, but it wasn’t working. I whimpered and Mark grabbed them for me. He pinched my nipples and kneaded them until I was crazy for release.

My vaginal walls began their tremors as Mark spun me back around. His hand went to the rope and held my hands as his fingers went to my clit. I screamed out in exhilaration as I crested over the cliff.

“Mark,” I called out over and over. Tears shed from my eyes. I was wiped out by release. My body was numb other than the pulsating bundle of nerves at my apex. The orgasm rolled on and on through Mark’s release and then some. Even when he stopped moving, I could still feel myself cresting again. If there was such a thing as death by orgasm I would have died then and there.

I dropped down on top of Mark, covered in sweat and ready for repair. Every strong orgasm Mark gave me seemed to chip away at the brick wall around my heart. Even though he was mine, I still guarded myself for fear he would change his mind.

Mark helped me up and helped me get dressed so we could go to dinner. As we headed out the door, I was suddenly feeling very off about my dad and wanted to see him. I had some kind of panic, thinking he might not be all right.

“Can I just meet you there?” I asked Mark.

“Why?” The detective in him appeared curious.

“I need to go to my dad’s house.”

“I will take you there. I have something I need to speak to him about, anyway.”

Then entire drive, I sat staring at my hands. I wanted to chew my fingernails as the anxiety overwhelmed me. He had signed the papers, so he was fine. He just refused to return my phone calls.

As we pulled up to my dad’s house, we rang the buzzer for the gate to open but no one opened it for us. I gave Mark the four digit code and the gates opened. The drive to the door was ominous, and I knew something was wrong.

We got out and rang the doorbell, but heard no movement. Mark pulled his gun and began walking around the porch, looking in the windows. I balled up my fist and beat on the door.

“Dad, open the door!” I screamed at the windows.

Mark was out of my sight for only a second when I heard a noise coming from the side. I pulled my gun and crept down by the pillar. I listened as the noise grew closer and closer. I nearly shot as our dog, Cricket, came around the corner. She whimpered as soon as she saw me and I pulled her to me. Her undercarriage was covered in blood and I saw a trail behind her.

I rubbed my hand down her chest to see she had a cut on her, but some of the blood was dry.

“Mark!” I screamed, and he came running up to me. He saw all the blood and picked up his phone and requested any available officers in the area and animal control. Mark crept around the side of the house following the blood trail while I stayed with Cricket on the porch. It was only minutes before police responded. Even the FBI pulled up front to help.

The FBI was always watching my dad, but apparently they were not watching close enough to see my dog get stabbed. Animal control rolled up and immediately took Cricket from me. I was covered in her blood as they carted her to the nearest vet.

I pulled my gun and picked up the extra key that was under a loose brick on the porch. I put the key in the hole and said a prayer that I would find him. I opened the door and saw a trail of blood inside. I walked just inside the door and to the left until I got past the stairs, then I walked slowly down the hallway. I turned the lock on the back door and edged my way out. When I came back to the front door, I looked down and saw my dad.

He was lying face down with his phone in hand behind the door. He had stab wounds that had been sewn shut and had begun to heal, as well as fresh ones still dripping with blood. I fell to my knees when I saw the little blue forget-me-not flowers all around his body.

I went to lunge for him when I was lifted off the floor. Taylor carried me outside and sat in the rocking chair on the porch with me in his lap as I cried my heart out. My dad had died and it had been my fault. I never told him I was sorry. I never told him I loved him.

Mark was out the door a few minutes later. He picked me up and placed me back inside his vehicle, then talked to Taylor for a few minutes. I watched, noticing they were both covered in blood and so was I. As officers roped off the pillars with yellow caution tape I saw the coroner’s van and Doctor Garie pull up to the house.

I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was going to vomit. Mark and Taylor climbed into the vehicle and Taylor held me in the back seat. It felt like my life was ending in a daze.

We went to the police department where they collected our clothes as evidence. I was numb to the world. Everyone seemed to move in fast forward while I moved in slow motion. As they interviewed Mark and Taylor as to how they wound up at the house, I walked outside the precinct. I stared at the hustle and bustle of people moving on the street.

I was wearing an NYPD t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants with a pair of used running shoes they had found. My hair was still covered in blood and yet I didn’t care. I started walking. I stared down at my shoes as I came to the crosswalk and nearly walked into an oncoming bus when someone grabbed my arm.

I slowly turned around to see light green eyes staring at me. I stood before him incapable of forming a conscious thought.

“Brooklyn?” He pulled me toward him. I went numbly to him and stood before him. Beaten down by emotions, I had nothing left.