Motown Breakdown (Motown Down #4) (30 page)

I had all sorts of feelings about this plan. Not one of those feelings was nerves either. Truth was, I was a horrible flirt. Never taking the time to master it. But then I thought of Jess and the other girls and it steeled my resolve. “Wait,” he says when I open my door.

“What?” I ask him impatiently.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks pulling me into his space. I knew what I wanted to say, what my automatic response to these types of questions was but I didn’t do it. Shade was different. His view on ownership was different. Somehow, with only knowing him a short time, I knew this and it was freaking me out that I was actually okay with it. And I knew that it was because he belonged to me too.

“You,” I tell him. “I belong to you.”

“Who do I belong to?” he asks gripping my chin gently.

“Me,” I tell him. “You belong to me.”

“Remember that while you’re inside,” he says releasing me. “Lawrence dies tonight, anyone touches you, they die too.”

Climbing out, I head in through the back and was relieved his abusive ass was at the bar and not at a table. Sliding in next to him, I didn’t have to pretend to be clumsy because I was clumsy. Missing my chair and landing on his lap, he holds his beer up over his head to save it. “You drunk, sweetheart?”

Okay, drunk I could work with that. Drunk meant agreeable, willing and vulnerable. “Little bit,” I smile up at him. That’s when it happened. He looked me up and down saving me from working for it. The pig was into me, that fast. “You’re a big son of a bitch, aren’t you?” I swoon over his muscles. Muscles he used to overpower Jess. “Let me guess, fireman?”

“Babe,” he groans. “Come on! Look,” he says pointing to his badge on his hip. Leaning in for a peek, I bite my lip for effect. “A cop,” I smile wide. “Where’s your cuffs?”

“My kinda girl,” he says rubbing my lower back. Peering over at his hand I ask him pointing at his ring, “Where’s your wife?”

“Dead,” he says with a straight face.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

“Don’t be,” he says trailing his finger down my arm. “You serious about those cuffs?”

“I’m only serious if there’s screaming involved.” And that peaked his interest, the fucker.

“I can make you scream,” he whispers in my ear.

“In pain?” I ask hopeful.

“You have no idea,” he says reaching for my tit and squeezing really fucking hard. I was totally shooting him a lot for that stunt.

“I think I do,” I tell him trying not to let my eyes water. “Across the street, by the garage door facing the field. I like to fuck outside, on the brick or in the dirt, I don’t care but, I won’t go home with you.”

Throwing money on the bar, he grabs my arm pulling out the back door. It took ten minutes and this sick prick wanted to hurt me. Jesus, Jess… Crossing the street, he sees the spot and throws me into the brick that my face was nice enough to test out for the rest of me. “On your knees, whore,” he growls.

“You know Lawrence,” I say rubbing my jaw. “I’m disappointed in you.”

“How’d you know my name?” he asks crowding me. With his hand wrapping around my throat, I see Shade approaching on the left and smile through the pain. “I know all about you,” I wheeze out and when Shade pistol whipped him, he let me go and I could breathe again.

“He fucking marked you,” he growls.

“He’ll fucking pay for it too,” I counter.

“Make it quick,” he says looking like a caged lion.

Quick, my ass. My muse nor I were in any hurry tonight.

Rage, like nothing I have ever felt, ran through me. Even when forced to witness Luna getting beaten by her father didn’t bring out this kind of hate in me. Before killing Marco, shit was handled differently in my world. Behind those walls a father had jurisdiction over his daughter. He could mete out punishment (often), force her to watch girls being brutalized and I had no choice but to stay my hand. It had been Luna’s idea to push Marco into hurting her more frequently and it worked because it sent the men into a frenzy. There are no words for what that sacrifice did to me but it was business and we both played a part. He was dead and Sun didn’t have a father I had to answer to anymore. Which meant the rules were different now. She was mine, this man hurt her and it was simple. He died slowly. There would be no take down by Sun, this prick was mine.

Lawrence Oliver was big. He matched me in height but outweighed me by fifty pounds, easy. He might be a cop but he was no match for a seasoned killer, few were. “Sun,” I yell over to her where she was slow in getting her bearings. Finger prints marred her perfect skin and my soul demanded blood as payment. “Let me do it,” I order her.

Tripping over her own feet, she rights herself before reaching under my coat for my pistol. “No can do,” she says releasing the slide. “He’s mine. How many rounds?”

“Nine,” I tell her, hoping he moves so I can curb stomp him.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks coughing.

“We haven’t officially met,” she says standing too close to him. “I’m a friend of your wife though, pretty sure she’s mentioned me.”

Looking between to the two of us you could see he was confused. Losing her patience, she fires one round into his stomach and letting out a roar of agony, he curls into a ball. “You fucking shot me!”

“Please,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m just getting started. Oh now, don’t black out on me, Lawrence, we have some catching up to do. Jess and I lived together for a while, I know she’s mentioned
Sunny
to you.” When his eyes go round she throws a fist in the air. “I knew it!” she says lining up for another shot. “Word gets around,” she smiles back at me.

“It does,” I agree keeping an eye out. “Wrap it up, gorgeous.”

“Jess didn’t have it easy,” she says kneeling down. “Her life was supposed to get easier. You were supposed to love and protect her, not hurt her.”

“I haven’t!” he cries into the dirt.

“If her face was an indicator, I’d say you do. I’d even go so far as to say you do it often. She wanted to leave you,” she says softly. “But I didn’t agree with that because until you’re dead, she’ll never be free.”

“Please,” he begs pitifully.

“Please what? Don’t hurt you? You’ll be a good boy now? Let you go?” she says low. This was a side of Sun I wasn’t expecting and I knew we’d be here for a while. I was fine with that, my pistol had a can on it so no one would hear her but it was his screaming that could draw attention. However, she needed this and I would make sure she got it. “How many times did she scream, Lawrence? Huh? Did she beg you to stop? Answer me!”

“Yes!” he screams.

“Show me which hand you used to hit her.”

Holding it up for Sun to see, she lines up and blows the fucker right off. No lie, it was pretty beautiful to witness. Taking a cloth out of my pocket, I walk over and shove it in his mouth. “Thanks,” she smiles. “You really are good at this.”

“It comes with age,” I smile back.

“Now the other hand,” she says focusing on Lawrence. Shaking his head in denial, she switches tactics. “Show me the other hand and you’ll crawl away from this. I mean, if you can manage it on your elbows. Personally, I’ve never done it. I’m just guessing.”

“It can be done,” I confirm.

“See?” she says happily. “It can be done, now the other hand please.”

Closing his eyes, he holds it up and she blows that one off too.
Of all the times to get hard
…”Are you sure this is only a 9mm?”

“Positive.”

“What kind of bullets?”

“Hollow points,” I tell her proudly.

“Well that explains it then,” she says pushing him on to his back. “These wounds if treated right away aren’t life threatening, I looked it up. Even without hands you could live. But the thing is, Lawrence, you lied to me.” Oh shit, here it comes… Standing back up, she points the barrel at his balls and fires. At that point, he started to go into shock and I almost came in my pants. “Shit,” she says wincing. “That had to fucking sting.”

Shaking herself of it, she points the gun in his face and loses her good nature. “I have a thing about liars,” she says in the meanest voice I have ever heard. “As in, I don’t like them.” One more round, straight into the forehead clean and dead center. A-fucking-mazing. “That’s for Jess,” she says spitting on him. Taking his badge, she puts it in her pocket before she undoes his pants yanking them down to his ankles. Checking her work, she nods in satisfaction then handing me the gun, she sashays back to the car.

She asked to make one more stop on the way home.

For her, I did.

28 days…

Leaving his badge in her mail slot may have been a tad over the top but it felt good. In the morning when she woke up, I imagined her coming downstairs and finding it resting on the floor. You had to give Detroit homes credit, they had cool mailboxes. Doing as promised, I sent her a message to her Facebook account because it’s the only contact info I had. I kept it vague knowing she would understand.

Freedom is yours, you should take a vacation. PS: send me your number

Since he was murdered, Jess would get the cash from his life insurance, she could sell the house taking the profit and move on with her life. I really hoped she moved on with her life and met someone else.  Last night when we got home, he ordered me into the shower where he bathed me from scalp to toes. By the time it was over, I was half asleep while standing up. He tucked me in and I remember nothing until I opened my eyes again. Now I’ve been lying here wondering what comes next. Shade appealed to me in dangerous ways. He saw the core of me even when I wasn’t showing it. For eight years I’ve tried hard to be a good person and most days I succeeded. But the fact of the matter was, if given a reason to be bad, I would always take it. Especially if it benefited someone else. To meet someone who understood that would be hard to walk away from. Impossible. Two days in and I already felt at home.

“She’s awake,” he says sitting next to me.

“He’s dressed,” I smile.

“He has coffee,” he points to the table.

“He’s my hero,” I smile even wider.

“She’s delusional,” he says handing it to me. Sitting up, I take it and moan when it hits my tongue. “A grown man jealous of coffee,” he smiles.

“I wouldn’t peg you as the jealous type,” I joke setting my cup down. But he loses his smirk when he sees my throat. Doing my best to ignore it, I focus on my coffee when he stands abruptly ready to leave. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” he says from the door. “I’m mad at me.”

“Why?”

“There will not be a repeat of last night,” he says looking beyond me. “From now on, I work alone. Take the day to write and relax, I have an actual business to run.”

“I accept you for who you are,” I snap. “The least you could do is give me the same respect.”

“If I truly believed you were a killer, Sun, I would. The day you realize you aren’t, that’s the day you’ll see me for who I truly am.”

“The devil,” I air quote thinking back on that chat.

“Lucifer was an archangel who fell from Heaven,” he says quietly. “The closest I’ll ever get to that is when I’m inside of you.”

Closing the door behind him, I was rendered speechless. Minutes after he left I still sat there unmoving. Coffee forgotten, I run to my Mac and fire it up. Minutes, hours, or days didn’t matter to me. When my muse perks up, she goes hard and it takes my full concentration to keep up.