The Family Business 3 (22 page)

The way he'd gripped the ends of that rope and tied my wrists together, I knew those were some strong hands that could do magic. I just never imagined they'd be cupping my breasts the way they were now.

Hell, who was I kidding? Sure I had. I had imagined that and more from the moment I saw Elijah—once I took my eyes off the gun that was being aimed at my head. Brother Elijah was one fine-looking man. He couldn't hide from me what I knew was under that bowtie and suit. Almost made a sistah want to convert.

“So soft,” he moaned, caressing them, using his thumbs to fondle my nipples and make them hard. It didn't take much for my young, perky girls to stand at attention. Unlike Paris, I'd had no kids, so my breasts were just as tender and firm as they were when I was in high school. And these beauties were bringing out the dirty little boy in Elijah.

I wanted to reach down and grab his manhood so bad, but my hands were still restrained. Truth was, though, that I was getting off on being tied up while he had his way with me. I was looking forward to having one hell of an earth-shaking orgasm.

“Put 'em in your mouth.” Always the assertive one, I was giving orders even while I was tied up.

I watched him lower his head to my breast, his mouth open, ready to inhale my areola. My head fell back in ecstasy.

I jerked my head up and my eyes flew open when I heard the heavy footsteps of someone entering the room.

“Elijah,” I said, wondering how much he'd witnessed. That little fantasy I'd been having had me really worked up.

If he knew what I'd been doing, he didn't let on. He closed the door behind him and walked over toward me, looking every bit as serious as he always did. Whatever was on his mind, it definitely wasn't sex.

He grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to mine.

“You all right?” he asked me.

I nodded.

“Did they treat you okay while I was gone?”

I nodded again.

He sounded more like a father who had left a child home with the babysitter, rather than the man who was holding me captive. You'd think he'd be trying to clip off parts of my body to send back to the family, but instead, he'd been going out of his way to show me small acts of caring. Perhaps he was starting to feel a sense of protectiveness over me. Maybe there was some type of kidnappers' syndrome named for that behavior too. I'd never been held hostage before, but from what I'd seen so far, it was making both me and my captor behave in some pretty unexpected ways.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” he asked.

“No,” I replied. “I'm good.”

“I brought you something,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows expectantly, waiting to see what he had.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a peach. “It's organic. I know how you care about what goes in your body.”

There was something else I wanted inside my body at the moment, but I stopped myself from saying it out loud. Instead, I just said, “Thanks. You going to feed it to me?”

He looked down at the ropes that bound my hands. “Oh, yeah.” He got up and untied one of my hands and then gave me the peach.

“Thank you.” I took a bite of the peach, savoring the sweet juice. My tongue darted out of my mouth to keep the juice from dripping down my chin. Any other time, I could eat a piece of fruit and turn it into a whole sensual show, but Elijah barely even noticed. He clearly had something heavy on his mind.

We sat together in silence for a while, and I thought maybe he was about to get up and leave, but instead he exhaled hard and said, “I have something I need to ask you.”

“Okay,” I said, and then, because I didn't feel threatened by him, I added, “but before you even ask, you know I can't tell you much about my family.” Whatever weird connection was developing between me and Elijah, my loyalty would always remain with the Duncans.

“What exactly is H.E.A.T?” he asked.

I was a little caught off guard by his question. H.E.A.T was old news as far as I was concerned. “Of all the questions you can ask me, why would you ask me about H.E.A.T.?”

He shrugged. “I just want to know.”

“Nobody just wants to know about H.E.A.T. Where is this coming from?”

“Someone brought it up today in association with the Duncans.”

I took another bite of the peach, contemplating how much I should tell him. I decided that since H.E.A.T. was a dead issue for the Duncans, I wasn't betraying anything by telling Elijah about it. “H.E.A.T. is a drug my family developed.”

“Like crack?” he asked.

“No, it was way better than crack. It was on its way to being the most successful drug ever. H.E.A.T. makes Molly look like aspirin. It was the answer to every weekend partier's dreams. It would have made the Duncans much more than multi-millionaires. I'm talking billionaire status. We had the game on lock with H.E.A.T.”

Elijah was hanging on my every word, and I was enjoying his attention, so I continued my story. “People all over the world have tried to buy the formula from us. You wouldn't believe how much money we've been offered—enough for generations to come to be set for life. But we turn them down every time.”

He sat quietly for a while, probably trying to process the story. I didn't blame him. Sometimes it was still hard for me to believe the Duncans had turned down so much money, and it was
my
family I was talking about.

“So what happened to it?” he finally asked.

“Cancer,” I said, taking another bite of the peach and wiping the juice off my chin. He wasn't noticing anyway, so no reason to keep up the sensual act. “We found out it causes liver cancer. We didn't want that shit out there because ultimately the powers that be would make sure it settled in the black community like every other drug.” He frowned, and I couldn't tell why. Maybe if I knew how he'd heard about it, I'd understand his motives better. As it was, though, it was a mystery to me, so I wrapped up my story quickly. “Long story short, despite the money, we didn't want to be responsible for all those deaths.”

Elijah sat quietly, marinating on what he'd just heard. “Wow. I just can't imagine shutting down a billion-dollar enterprise.”

“Yeah, not a week goes by that someone doesn't offer to buy the formula, but hey, the Duncans are drug distributors. For us, this is just business. We're not trying to kill off our entire race—or any other race, for that matter.”

He looked truly stunned. “So the Duncans aren't as bad as I thought they were.”

“No, we're hardworking people, just like everybody else. Your camp included.” I wanted him to see me as no different than him.

“Just one more question.”

“This is about your fifth one, but who's counting?” I said with a flirtatious smile.

“Why would Junior sleep with another man's wife?”

Now, this was the first question I would have expected him to ask, considering that was what started this war anyway. “I don't know. Junior's not the type to do that kind of thing. Maybe he didn't know Sonya was married at first. But now he's in love.” I leaned in and shot him a seductive look. “If you were in love, would you give up so easily?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but we were interrupted by a knock on the door. Another soldier poked his head into the room and said, “Brother Xavier wants to see you.”

Elijah got up and retied the restraints around both of my hands. “Thanks for the conversation,” he said then left the room.

“Thanks for the fantasy,” was my reply.

“We've spotted his men on Jamaica Ave, Merrick Boulevard, and over by both airports,” I said. “My guess is he's still got Sasha in Queens somewhere.”

With Vegas's security detail getting killed in the restaurant parking lot, Kennedy dead, and Junior walking around with a price on his head, I'd been asked by Ma Chippy to bring in some of my Israelite brothers and head up Duncan security. I told her I couldn't commit to the job long term, but I was there until this whole situation was resolved. Truthfully, I was thankful for the work, because the distraction helped to keep my mind off of Connie.

“Yo, Daryl! Daryl!” One of Vegas's guys, Kareem, came running into the kitchen. “Y'all need to come out front and see this right now.” He darted right back out of the kitchen, and I followed, along with Orlando, Vegas, and Junior.

Outside in front of the house, we came face to face with a man in a bowtie and schoolboy glasses headed our way. He was surrounded by seven of our guys pointing their weapons at him.

“That's the same cat that came into the restaurant that day when I was about to propose to Sonya,” Junior said. “He's the one who supposedly warned me about Brother X.”

“Well, this fool say he got a message for y'all,” Kareem said.

Junior took quick steps toward the man, and I stayed right behind him in case I needed to rein him in. I didn't want Junior killing this guy before we found out why he was there.

I could tell by the vein pulsing in his temple that Junior really wanted to strangle this dude, but to his credit, he remained cool. “What are you doing here?” he asked him. “Why are you at my home?”

“Yeah, why are you here?” Paris was now on the top step, gun in hand.

“My name is Brother Elijah. I'm here because I have a message to deliver from Brother Xavier,” he said, looking past Junior and directly at Vegas. He was so intense and serious that you would have thought the message he was about to relay had been spoken to him by Allah Himself.

“Another message, huh?” Junior grunted. “Kind of like the one you delivered to me that night at the restaurant?”

Junior's shoulders tensed up, and I could tell he was about to start swinging. “Calm down, man,” I whispered. “Let's hear him out.”

Junior looked to Vegas then me. He nodded, and the raging bull was calmed. For now, anyway.

“No, my friend, this message is a little different,” Elijah said.

“Friend?” This time it was Orlando who was about to snap.

Vegas held out his arm in front of Orlando to cut off anything before it could get started. Everyone was calm again as we gave Elijah our undivided attention. I hated the thought of him feeling as though the ball was in his court. Sadly enough, though, it was.

Elijah stepped past Junior toward Vegas, who came down off the porch.

“We're listening,” Vegas said.

“As you know from the pictures we sent you, we have Sasha Duncan,” Elijah started.

“Tell us something we don't know!” Paris shouted. “You got her . . . for now. But we're going to get her back!”

Elijah cleared his throat and continued. “You're going to get her back, huh? Well, not without my help.”

This statement had us all confused. Had this man, one of the ones responsible for Sasha's capture, just suggested that he would help us get her back? If that was true, then why the hell didn't he just bring her with him in the first place and stop wasting time?

“What do you mean, not without your help?” Vegas asked.

“If I can get back to delivering my message, I think you will understand.”

“Go ahead. Deliver your message,” Vegas told him, remaining calm in the face of this bastard's arrogance.

“Brother Xavier wants to make an exchange: Sasha Duncan for you, Vegas Duncan,” Elijah said.

“Hell no!” Paris yelled. There was no need to look at her to know what her expression was at that moment. From what Orlando and Vegas had told me, she wasn't known for negotiating. She was a shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later kind of girl. Orlando was closest to her. He'd have to handle her while I kept Junior in check.

“What kind of bullshit are you coming here with? You're lucky we don't—”

“Paris!” Vegas's voice boomed. “Let him finish.”

Elijah continued as if he hadn't even heard Paris's threatening rant. “If you want to see Sasha alive again, then I say make the exchange.” A solemn look passed across Elijah's face, and I swear I saw something like regret in his expression. “Because if we don't get Sasha away from X, I'm afraid he's going to do the unthinkable.”

“You're
afraid
?” Vegas asked the question that was surely roaming through everyone's mind. Why did he care whether Sasha was killed? He seemed sincere, but then again, why would he want to help set free the very person he was holding captive? This had to be a trick.

“Why him and not me?” Junior snapped, pushing his way in front of Elijah. “I'm the one he should want. I'm the one with Sonya.”

“If it was up to me, you'd be the one I chose, adulterer, but it's not my choice. I'm just a messenger, and Xavier wants Vegas.”

“Vegas ain't going nowhere, so whatever you and your boss are up to, forget it,” Paris said as if she were the one making the final decision. “You come here acting like you ain't got nothing to do with it. Why should we even trust you?”

Elijah cleared his throat. “Do you have a Quran?”

“What the—?” Orlando asked.

Elijah turned to Vegas. “Do you have a Quran?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” Vegas said. “Upstairs. What does that have to do with anything?”

“I'll put my hand on the Holy Quran,” Elijah said. He looked directly into the eyes of each of us before he announced, “I may be a killer, but I don't harm women—and I'm not a liar.”

We all looked around, silently questioning each other about how we should respond. I don't know what it was about this guy, but something told me that he might be telling the truth.