Surviving Brooklyn (Brooklyn Series Book 1) (3 page)

My heart lit up inside his mouth as I watched him chew. Swallowing hard, he jerked me toward him with the chain still in the air. This time he was taking his time moving toward my face. The memories that flashed before me were of my childhood and made me want to weep. He was going to eat all of me until there was nothing left. Would I live in agony inside him forever, or would I die?

Life was full of choices and roads in which to wander aimlessly down. None had shown me this. It wasn’t hidden in a valley or at the peak of a mountain. Nothing could have prepared me for the intense agony I felt. Nothing could have prevented me from trying to help the blonde who threw herself to the sharks rather than be eaten by the giant flesh-eating dragon that held me up by a chain.

The agony and pain had no description as no words could describe how awful it felt. The pits of hell would have sympathized with me. I knew how every victim must have felt before he killed them and ended their pain.

The dragon chuckled and asked if I had made my peace with what was happening. I couldn’t even respond between the pain from my nonexistent body and the strain from the collar I wore. There were no words or sounds. The dragon threw his head back with a whole-hearted laugh.

“I guess this means I win. This means you won’t ever stop me.” He growled.

He moved forward so slowly, with lips curling upward to show teeth covered in blood. His mouth looked like the inside of a crocodile’s mouth. Tired of the game, he moved in such a fast motion all I could do was try to scream as he bit down on my face.

Chapter 3

“Ahh!” I screamed, fighting my blanket. I was stuck beneath the blanket. My laptop cord had me pinned down. The room was dark and the only light was shining from my laptop as it returned from its sleep mode. I finally got loose and fell to the floor. I rubbed my hands up and down my body for peace of mind that I was still there.

I looked toward the light and saw the gruesome crime scene photos. I had only been on the case for a few days, and it had already gotten under my skin. Could it be because they all looked like me?

“Brooklyn?” Kate flipped on my light. She had fallen asleep on the couch and I had woken her with my screams. She ran for me as soon as she saw me, immediately enveloping me in her arms. She gave me a hug that shattered my emotional hold. I cried on her shoulder. I cried for the victims, and for myself. I always wanted to put away bad men. I wanted to make sure they stayed behind bars, but I never imagined it would feel like this.

“I am all right,” I muttered through my tears. Kate let me go and pulled back to study my face.

“You want me to sleep in here?” she asked with a softened tone.

I nodded my head and put all the case material and my laptop on my desk. I took a shower and scrubbed the dream off me. When I returned, Kate was still awake. She had turned out the light, but had brought in my little desk lamps and they were turned on in the four corners of my room. It gave me enough light not to run into any boxes, but was soft enough I would fall right to sleep.

I climbed in the bed, thankful my best friend was there, and fell fast asleep.

The rest of the weekend passed by in a blur of unpacking, drinking, and dancing in our socks. Kate had given up her weekend, except to get clothes out of her apartment to stay with me. I didn’t have a repeat nightmare, but I also did not pull out the case file before bed again.

By Sunday night, I felt like I wanted to see my dad, hadn’t spoken to him much since he got out of prison. He lived his life as a criminal and I was going to spend mine putting people like him in prison. I wanted to tell him a victim’s side of the story. I wanted him to have empathy for those he had harmed. I picked up my phone and called him.

“Lyubov Moya, how are you?”

“I am fine, Nikolas, how are you?” I replied.

“When are you going to start calling me
Dad?
”

“When you start behaving like one.” This conversation was off to a rocky start. He would likely hang up on me, so it would be best to say something in person.

“I start my new job tomorrow.”

“That is great. Did you get a new law firm?” Nikolas asked, as if he had forgotten where I took the job.

“I took the job with the District Attorney’s office. They already have me on the Cut-Me-Not case.”

“The one on the news?” my dad asked. His tone was a little off-putting. It almost sounded like he was concerned.

“Yes, that one. I will get to try the case if we ever catch him.” I took a breath, and was cautious not to say anything more than what he would learn by watching television. Not only did I worry about confidentiality with my job, but my dad was a convict.

The FBI took pride in the fact they had rid New York City of the mafia. Little did they know, the mafia still resided. They were all employed by my father and his army of idiots.

“Brooklyn, I want you to be very careful with that. Didn’t he just kill the last Assistant District Attorney?” my dad asked with concern.

“Yes, I took her spot. Nikolas, I know you have to be worried because you are my sperm donor, but honestly I will be fine. I am working with Mark on it, and he won’t let anything happen to me.”

Kate took the opportunity to wave at me and let me know she was dressed and ready to go to dinner. I held up one finger to finish my call with my dad.

My dad didn’t believe me when I said I would be fine. I got the same speech he gave to his thugs about watching their backs. He worked in a world of criminals, so maybe I should listen, but then again the press release had not even gone out yet. No one knew I had taken over, and I had no threats against me. Being a virgin to this side of the system meant I had no enemies yet. I was sure I would be fine.

I enjoyed the groans my dad conveyed when I asked him to pick me up for lunch from the same office that put him behind bars for most of my childhood. He would just have to deal with the fact that his criminal genes did not leak into me.

I hung up with him and threw on a red rockabilly dress with a black chest-belt and black pumps. I let my black hair flow and applied my make-up. The red dress made my skin look lighter, but it also made my blue eyes pop with color. This was my last night before work began, and I wanted to look my best.

One last glance in the mirror and I turned to leave with Kate. Tonight was going to be fun.

A few hours had passed and dinner at Pure Wine & Food had been great. I loved the environment, and Kate loved their vegetarian cuisines. We were walking out to leave when I turned and ran into a hard male chest. It had to be the wine that left me stuttering my apologies as I bent down to pick up my purse. I suddenly felt hot as I brushed against the man handing me my jacket that had also fallen to the ground. I didn’t even make eye contact until I had straightened.

“You all right?” Mark asked.

“Yeah, I am good,” I stuttered. “What are you doing here?”

“Your dad called me,” Mark answered as if it was no big deal.

“Since when do you consort with the enemy?” I asked, letting my distaste for my father shine through.

“When we have a common goal.” Mark responded with a smile that lit up his face. My annoyance that my dad had called him was making him laugh, and that irritated me even more.

“What exactly is your common goal?” I placed my left hand on my hip and prodded his hardened chest with my right.

“You,” Mark stated nonchalantly. He took my hand in his to keep me from poking him again. Retaining my annoyance was hard around Mark. He made me feel as though I could take on the world with him by my side, and everything would be all right. He made me think I was some kind of an enigma.

“Me?” I asked.

“You.” Mark brushed my hair back behind my ear when the wind blew it across my face.

“What about me?” I asked, warmth in my voice. Mark was just that type of person; he could piss me off while making me want to coddle him. It was made worse by his dimples. I was infatuated with his dimples. They added to his character and made him look handsome and mature but with a slight amount of childishness that made him irresistible.

“Invite me home with you,” Mark whispered as Kate came upon us.

“Hey, Mark,” Kate said, looking down at Mark’s hand that was still covering mine. She glanced back up at me and winked. Then her lips moved silently to the sing-song phrase she had said days earlier. Lucky for me, Mark’s gaze had not left me, and I was saved from the humiliation of trying to explain what Kate was saying.

“Hi Kate, how are you?” Mark asked without looking in her direction. He was staring into my eyes as if he was waiting to see if I would acknowledge his request from a moment ago.

“I’m great! I am just drunk enough that I am heading to Eddie’s.” Kate mentioned Eddie candidly, as if he wasn’t the soon to be ex-boyfriend.

“Are you serious?” I asked, wondering what was going through her head.

“Yes, I know we have no future together, but that doesn’t mean we can’t use each other for sex until we are ready to move on.”

I closed my eyes so she would not see me roll them with her comment. I wasn’t going to talk her out of it. Maybe she needed this to see that he wouldn’t change.

“Text me when you get there,” I said softly. “Mark, would you come home with me and go over the notes?” I asked, because I had not forgotten what he wanted.

Kate waved goodbye to me, and Mark took my arm as we walked  down the street. I noticed a black town car slowly cruising just behind us. People in New York City did not know what traffic laws were, so it wasn’t strange to see that kind of car, but it was odd that it was moving so slowly.

I put it out of my mind as we rounded the corner and Mark lifted his arm to hail a cab.

“Remember the last time we shared a cab? Mark asked with a sly grin.

“I remember. I puked all over your shoes, and your girlfriend got pissed when I climbed in your lap so you could make me feel better,” I said with a smile to match his.

“I remember I stayed by your side the entire night. I held your hair while you puked. I rubbed your back with the dry heaves. I even got you ‘hair of the dog’ the next morning,” Mark whispered the memory as if it was something that just happened. Then he lifted my hand to kiss my knuckles as he climbed into a cab.

He didn’t say a word the rest of the ride to my apartment. I didn’t speak either. It seemed like we had a lot to say, but the scary part was saying it out loud. I would eventually ask why he would come at my father’s request, but here and now in the back of the cab I was enjoying the silence as he continued to hold my hand.

When we arrived at my apartment, Mark took the keys from my hand and placed his other hand on the small of my back while the doorman let us in. We rode up the elevator in silence, letting the sonata playing through the speakers control the mood. As we got to my floor, Mark took my hand and led me to my door and unlocked it.

Once inside, Mark locked the door and made his way through what was left of my boxes to put my keys on the island in the kitchen. I took a bottle of tequila out of the freezer. Mark stood with his elbow leaning down on the island, watching as I made margaritas. I knew I had to work tomorrow, but one or two wouldn’t hurt.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Mark asked as I turned off the blender. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t hear it. I guess honesty is the best policy, but I am a lawyer, so unless directly asked I don’t share any extra information. I poured my own drink, and decided I could be my own lawyer.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” I stated, pouring Mark a drink.

“Yes, you were, and I am not leaving until I know why.” Mark drained his glass in one swallow.

“What did my dad call you for?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Quid Pro Quo. You answer my questions and I will answer yours,” Mark responded. I was seriously ready to kick my own ass because that was the tactic I used whenever I had information he wanted to know. He had turned the tables, and I would die of embarrassment or shame before the night was over.

“Fine! Name the stakes,” I declared. I was never one to back down. I was also trying to figure out how to tell him I hated his girlfriend and wanted to watch her drown in my jealousy.

“Whatever is said here, stays here. I will be completely honest with you if you are honest with me. The last time we discussed your dad, you threw a vase at me. I want it on the record that there will be no throwing of items.”

Mark grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and walked over to the couch. It was my turn. I refilled my glass and brought the pitcher with me, then set the pitcher on the coffee table before plopping down on the other end of the couch. I turned myself sideways to face him. I knew he was in detective mode, so I would have to go the honest route and not the lawyer route.