THE FOOL, THE SCROOGE,

AND
THE SLUTTY ELF ON THE
SHELF
CASE FILE:03
A KEAGAN HANDCUFFS AND LACE MYSTERY

A Novel By,
CHRISTINE GRAY
 ©2018 Published by After Hours
Publications, Inc.
www.afterhourspublications.com
All rights reserved.

Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No

part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by
any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage without express permission by
the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places,

events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination
or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Contains explicit language & adult themes

suitable for ages 17+
TAKE A PEEK BETWEEN OUR PAGES
WWW. AfterHoursPublications.Com
 MY BOOKS READING ORDER
To dates, I have over 35 books published. If you are stuck on the order of
which to read, here's a list.
Starting with my pen name SAPPHIRE
The Order:

Don't Tell My Husband Series

Falling For an Alpha Billionaire
Consumed By Love
Extraordinary Love; Angie and Levi's Story
One Of A Kind Love Series

AMAZON SAPPHIRE AUTHOR’S PAGE

THEN, next are CHRISTINE GRAY:

The Billionaire Mob Wife
Pursued; A Billionaire Obsession
Sweet Obsession; Her Beast, His Beauty
Dirty; Loving Him Against The Odds
No One Can Love You Like I Can Series
Irish Heat; Claiming His Heart
Relentless; A Vampire King's Desire Series
Fated To Love
Fated To Be Mine
Fated To Bleed
Fated Till The End
Tainted Love
Forbidden Lust
Don't Walk Away; Elmo and Christine Romance
Blindsighted By Love; Cujo and Rhi's Romance
Enjoying Mr. Hardwood Series
 Case File:01- The Pervert, The Monster, and The Sex-Bot
Case File:02- The Savage, The Pretenders, and The Hunch, Punch Train

AMAZON CHRISTINE GRAY AUTHOR’S PAGE

If you read in this order, you'll catch all the clues, and will know all the
back stories of the people when they pop up. Happy Reading!
 FREE BOOK OFFER!
Justin can't find out anything about him. Those that do know, aren't talking.
WHO THE HELL IS KEAGAN McCormac?
Find out before everyone else!!

MISSING CASE FILE:2.5; KEAGAN, Missing Pieces Found

A #FREE EXCLUSIVE Nov.15th. To receive this Short Story do 2 things:
JOIN my VIP Readers Group :
https://www.facebook.com/groups/2208109435887660/?ref=bookmarks
Subscribe to my E-mail list :
https://www.christinesappgrayauthor.com/

On Release Day, watch your email to receive the link to download.

 CHAPTER ONE
I know this path like the back of my hand, yet I keep falling. I would
laugh if the situation were different. I just proved that the myth of tripping
on air was true when you’re running for your life. I try not to linger long in
the thicket. Even with the moon high in the inky sky, I’m still straining my
eyes to see my way. The sounds of the dogs hot on my track motivates my
ass to get in gear. I always used to pride myself on being in peak shape, but
the fear coursing through me has my heart rattling against my ribcage.
Not like this. Jesus, not like this… please. I beg the man upstairs,
again.
The thing is, I’m not surprised if he sits motionless without lifting a
finger to save me. I mean, I never thought to call upon His name in the past.
I was… Shit! Why am I referring to myself in the past tense? Did I know I
wasn’t going to make it out of the woods alive?
Why didn’t I see it? It was so obvious, and I fell for it.
I know why. It was the sex. Isn’t it always money or sex? The things
my body felt. The highs that I was taken to, I didn’t even know what a clit
was for until that night. All I wanted was to see for myself if the rumor was
true. I wanted to experience what all the fuss was about. I wanted to know if
all the money was worth it. You know what? It was. I’m not ashamed to say
that it was worth it. So much so that I became addicted to the release, the
touch, and the strokes that left that sweet tenderness that carried over for
days. Fucking on the regular, which was a drug that I couldn’t give up, is
the reason why I’m in this spot.
“I’ll tell. I know everything.”
Tears stain my windblown face as a cloud of my hot breath on the
freezing night air surrounds my head. Stupid! Why did I have to speak a
threat? You never, never threaten a person that has everything to lose, but I
was desperate. Before then, I never felt so much joy as I felt while tangled
up in those silk sheets. It might have been just another conquest, or a
means to an end, but to me… it was love. Or at least, I thought it was. I
thought we were going to be together. I just didn’t want it to end. However,
from the way those sparkling green eyes turned cold, I knew it was more
than just fucking that had come to an end. Take it from me, wait till you’re
safe with the upper hand before you start talking shit.
I force my bare limbs to move faster. The dogs were getting closer. I
still have the length of three football fields to cover before I hit the road.
The killer knows that fact, too. I’m overly focused. The brittle cold doesn’t
even register in my bra and panties-clad body. I can warm myself once I
was out of harm's way. My feet will need medical attention. The blood I
leave on the ground makes it easy for the dogs to follow my scent. My
lungs are practically screaming due to the stress I’m putting on them. My
cell phone would have come in handy, but that’s been left behind, too.
With the last of my strength, I surge forward in the hope of giving
myself the much-needed space between me and my pursuer. I won’t go
down without a fight. I don’t know how, but I’m going to fight till my last
breath. I’m going to make that fucker work to silence me. I’m sure that
thought has my sister smiling from her pit in hell. The bitch. It was all her
fault. If she would never have opened her damn legs, I would have never
been swayed to do the same. I would have never given that two-faced, lying
ass a second glance. I would never have fallen for the sweet nothings. My
head would have never been turned from my true love. It didn’t matter that
he never noticed me. That he chose another over me, not once, but twice.
Maybe, if I had put more time into making him love me instead of going for
the bump and grind, I could be with him now instead of-
“The… the road,” I cry.
I can just make out the faint sound of a car driving by. I dare not
slow down to celebrate. Why the road? Help, duh. Yeah, I know that most
people, me included, wouldn’t let off the gas long enough to offer help.
However, this isn’t the Bronx, either. Million dollar residents reside in the
area. My lack of clothing and porcelain white skin will have someone
putting on the breaks. White privilege? Hell yeah! It’s going to save my life.
“Fuck you!” I shout.
My voice echoes. The dogs howl. I have no doubt my taunt was
heard. The skin on my fingers protests as they dig into the sloping, snow-
covered dirt, and I claw my way up onto the paved road. A smile stretches
on my frostbit face when the barking of the dogs falls into the distance. Just
as I prayed. The chase has ended once I reached the road. Hobble, trot,
run… I make my way along the road's edge.
Why is it that when you want a car on the damn road, there isn’t
one? No worries, though. I remind myself of the house less than a mile up
the road. See, no matter what. My ass is saved. Once I make it, I’m going to
make the motherfucker pay. I can already see my ass busting into the room
in slow motion to tell it all. Cops in tow, bitches on my heels. Yes, then I’ll
play the battered woman act to catch his eye, finally. Yes, the pleasure of
knowing that I’m fucking, and I’m married to the man that my sister lied
and cheated to get, only for her to be killed by the snake she was
sidestepping with, is sweet as fuck.
It takes me a second to notice that my legs are giving out on me. My
steps are getting a bit choppier. My brain is lulling me into a state of rest
and calm that I’m not crazy enough to give entirely into. The reflection of a
pair of high beams in the distance lights the pavement in front of me.
Excitement has me panting. My dance of rescue begins while the car is a
mile down the road. I’m tired as hell when the high beams hit my body and
blind me. My arms are flapping, boobs bouncing, I’m going to make this
person stop. You better believe it.
“Muffy!”
A male. That’s all I get from the voice. Whoever it is, they knew
me. My hand shakes as I try to shield my eyes in hopes of identifying the
person behind the voice.
“Help, help me, please,” I cry while taking a step towards the car.
The driver’s side door opens.
“No! Don’t get out. I need-“
“Muffy.”
This time the sound of my name causes me to stop in mid-step.
Narrowing my eyes, still caught in the high beams, I strain to make out the
silhouette. Not forward. Not towards the car, I take a shaky step backward.
This… this can’t be. The realization as my brain connected the dots and
filled in the holes to spit out a complete picture that I was so dumb not to
see must have registered on my pale face. How could I have missed it? I
was so focused on the left hand, and I didn’t see what the right was doing.
Family isn’t a damn thing when…
I’m wasting time. I need my energy for other things, rather than to
explain this twisted plot to you. Without a second word, I haul ass. Fatigue
is a word I don’t know. Knees to chest, I take off down the street. I hear the
roar of the car’s engine. No matter, I’m gonna take cover in the woods. I’m
going to make it. I’m gonna…
My ankle! That fucking air is a bitch. I hear the snap, pain shoots up
my shin. My teeth cut into my bottom lip. My heart sinks. What else can I
do? I turn around and close my eyes. The high beams closing in are like the
burst of a million suns. It’s so bright behind my eyelids. The fender of the
car taking out my knees is like a pain I can’t explain. The impact tosses my
body on the hood. My head connects with the thick glass of the windshield.
Is that my eyeball? Are those my teeth? Closed casket for sure. Wait! I’m
still moving.
I open my eyes and gaze upon my murderer. Gazes locked, there is
no remorse I see. There’s actually a wicked twisting of the lips that speak of
the pure evil causing the person to step on the gas and run the car into the
ditch. Ah, finally, I’m stopping. In wide-eyed disbelief, I glance down at my
body. With a sigh, I let my head fall back to rest on the tree that I’m pinned
to. I know that it’s only the dented car pressing me to the tree that’s keeping
my broken body from coming apart.
It doesn’t matter that my murderer has ditched the car. The other
vehicle coming down the road won’t be able to save me, either. I can
already feel the slowing of my heart. It’s funny the teachings that never
leave you. In those seconds, I do as all kids raised in the church were
taught. I ask for forgiveness. I pray for a place in Heaven. Hey, it worked
for the thief at the side of Jesus.
I move my hand, but I don’t know for what reason. Maybe, it’s a
final reflex. In the distance, I can hear a scream. You know? They are right.
All the things I thought were so important, none of them matter, now.
 CHAPTER TWO
KEAGAN
It’s goddamn cold. You would think I was used to it after freezing
my ass off in Ireland, but I ain’t. I’ll deal with it, but the cold isn’t my first
choice. Keeping warm with Monàe’s thick thighs wrapped around me,
yeah… I like that. Instead, I’m blue balls cold and stuffy as fuck in my car
as I drive in the deep of the night. This Global warming shit must be true.
What other reason could it be that there is so much snow this early in
December? I was suckered into going to the damn Macy’s Parade for it to
turn out to be the coldest one in years. Oh, Monàe paid me back for over a
week for that. I played her and milked her pussy dry.
Cracking the window, I let a bit of the bitter air in the car to balance
out the heat as the GPS directed me to a suburb of New York. The constant
hum of the engine has my mind traveling to silly things instead of listening
to Monàe chatting or fucking with the radio. I shift in my seat. I refuse to
glance over at the empty passenger seat. Alright, it’s more than the cold
that’s pissing me off. It’s Monàe. Hey, just shut up and listen. I don’t need
your advice.
About two months have gone by since that day in her apartment. We
work, try not to fuck on the clock, and keep it professional. I get that she
doesn’t want people to think she's up to her old ways of fucking to get her
way. It sounds good to me. I support a strong woman, but that’s the issue.
I’m not used to riding sidekick. I’m always in the driver seat. That’s a good
thing, but in this case, I don’t want her to start to depend on me either. Not
that I’m going somewhere, nah not that. Yet, at times, I think I’m taking
some of her shine, her steam, and her ability to show her stuff. I say that,
then I do it again. I start taking the fucking lead.
Monàe is a different creature from Aleya, my ex. Her ass was lazy,
except when it came to sex. The damn woman wanted to be pampered and
waited on. She had no aspirations other than looking good, being seen, and
getting what being with me brought her. I never needed to watch my
dominating ways with her. Of course, I could say fuck it. This is me, and if
Monàe wants to be with me, then dim your light, but I can’t. I love this
woman. I want to know that the smile on her face isn’t sourced from the
bacon I bring home or the crumbs I toss her. She had a life before me. I
want to enhance not to conquer.
I’m trying to tread so carefully that I think, at times, I’m fuckin
things up. Only after the fact, I play shit back to see what I’m doing wrong.
I give her too much support. Then, in the next breath, I give her none to
leave her hanging. This bullshit is frustrating because the women always
came to me. I’ve never had to make an effort. The hardest part of my
relationships were making sure the ladies didn’t trap my ass and helping
them understand that I meant it when I said it was over. Now, here I am
talking to myself or ya’ll's asses like a goddamn, lovesick punk.
The reason why she’s in the car behind me and not in the car with
me is that I suggested that we come separately. She paused for a second,
and I swear the look on her face didn’t say, “Wow, Keagan. That’s a great
idea. You’re such a smart, thoughtful guy.” Nah, it was one of those, “What
the fuck, why? You don’t want people knowing we’re together? Ok,
motherfucker, I’ll drive,” kinda look. Hell, I thought I was playing it smart,
but she was looking at me like I’m being shady and shit. I thought she
didn’t want people to know, so I keep my mouth shut. Then again, maybe
she wants it known, and she’s waiting for me to be the one to reveal it.
“Fuckin bullshit,” I grumble as I crack up the radio.
Next on the shit list is Justin. After Trisha and Otto disappeared
from the train, he seemed to stop dogging me, but the man is like a turd
poking out from my asshole. He’s useless and annoying as hell. A few times
he challenged a few of my arrests. He failed. Yet, it pissed me the hell off.
Of course, with him giving Aleya my scent, she’s popping up at the oddest
places and times. Nothing that’s caused problems with Monàe. I’m guessing
Aleya is hoping to push up on me while I’m alone. Even still, I’m tired of
telling her to bounce to the next dick cause mine is spoken for.
We’re getting close. The flashing light of a patrol car stopping
traffic miles away from the scene has created a pile-up. I tap on the steering
wheel as I inch forward. I give in to the urge to let my eyes roll at the
echoes of the drivers ahead bitching and moaning over being detoured.
 “There’s been a fatal hit and run ahead. You can’t pass.”
“What? You must be kidding. Well, I’m only going a bit down the
road.”
“Sorry, you can’t pass.”
“Seriously?! Why must I go out of my way?”
A roar follows me shoving my door open. A startled patrolman with
his hand on his gun eyes my approach.
“Get your hand off that gun,” I growl.
His eyes fall to the golden shield of my badge around my neck.
“Oh, sir… I,” he starts to babble.
I open my mouth, but I’m cut off.
“Good, someone with a brain. Tell this fool to let me through. He’s
suggesting for me to go twenty-five minutes out of my way.”
I turn my head to look at the sack of shit.
“I should crush your head in with my boot,” I paused long enough
for my words to register. “A person has lost their life, and you’re worrying
about spending gas that you can obviously afford. Get his license plate and
write him up for… for,” I think while I case over his expensive car. “A
broken tail light,” I say.
“What? What broken… all of my-“
“Oh, look, this one is out,” I shout from the back of the man’s car.
The man stretches out of the open window just in time to see me
kick my foot through the colorful plastic.
“Son of a bitch! Are you crazy?” The man yells as he tries to get out
of his car.
“Sir, I advise you to stay in your vehicle,” the patrolman states. He
isn’t dumb after all.
“I’m not going to just let this… whatever he is, destroy my
property,” the rich asshole screams.
 “The next time I tell you to turn around, shut up and do it,” hisses
the patrolman.
Taken back, the rich man gives me a promise to get me back before
he rolls up his window.
“That’s right. Get the fuck out of the way,” I taunt with a nasty
smile.
I can hear Monàe’s laughter while I stroll back to my ride. Putting
my car in gear, I charge through the flashing patrol cars. That little expo has
restored me. There's nothing like sticking it to a pompous fucker to set your
world right.
Ah, there it is. The saliva in my mouth collects. I deeply breathe in
the cold air that’s tainted with the strong scent of blood. Cars, vans, and
people sent to process the accident line both sides of the street. Tall
spotlights have been set up which make me think of a soccer field.
“You alright?”
No, I’m not alright. Trying to figure out how to handle you is
driving my ass crazy. I wanna say it, but I don’t. At least I can be happy that
she’s smiling at me.
“Yeah, I’m ok,” I mumble.
Monàe’s eyes linger as if she’s trying to see something, then she
turns away towards the crime. We walk silently past the vehicles and
people. Like second nature, she and I are surveying everything. The marks
on the road, I wonder if she caught them? I consider pointing them out, but
I stop myself. As we get closer, I take the gloves she passes me. I cut my
eyes at her pulling out her notebook.
“What’s up, boo.”
The call gets our attention.
“Sloan?”
“Yeah, they got my ass freezing out here, too,” he smirks at Monàe.
“For a hit and run?” she questions.
“Have you seen it?” he counters.
 I don’t have to see it to know it’s terrible. From the way I’m reacting
from the blood in the air, it’s gruesome.
“Jesus,” groans Monàe.
“He should have taken the wheel,” mumbles Sloan.
In a trance, Monàe approaches the hideous scene.
“Where’s the witness?” she shouts over her shoulder while she
gingerly slides down into the small ditch.
“No witnesses,” Sloan corrects as we follow her. “The woman that
found her had to be hospitalized.”
“I can see why,” I reply.
“We can’t remove the car, since it’s the only thing keeping her
together,” explains Sloan.
“So, what do you see?”
My question has both he and Monàe glancing at me.
A bit taken back, “I just got here, so give me a sec,” she answers,
oddly.
A nod is my response. An elbow to my ribs breaks the silence.
“Letting her take the lead?”
A shrug is my answer.
“Why?” Sloan presses.
“Why not?” I snap.
He says nothing but stares. “Hum, I thought you were going to tell
me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Nothing,” he says.
Now, that shit don’t fly with me. Why the fuck does a person leave a
conversation with just a nothing? It ain’t, nothing. Oh, it’s something. You
just want me to kiss your ass and beg for you to tell it. That’s a bitch move.
“You sitting to piss again, Sloan?”
 “Fuck you,” he spits with a wave of his hand.
“What are you not telling me?”
“Me? I’ve been holding my breath, waiting for you to tell me why
the fuck, Lucian… ” he hisses my cousin’s name while glancing around all
dodgy like, “… called me.”
“Shit,” I groan.
“Yeah, so what the hell have you done now? You’ve been acting
shady and shit.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Bollocks! Your noodle (head) is in the cloud walking around like a
fuckin stook (fool)… with a stick in your arse,” he spat.
We both clamp our mouths, smile, and nod when Monàe glances our
way.
“I broke a rule,” I whisper.
Confused, “You cheated on Monàe?”
“Why the hell would Lucian care where I dip my dick?” I grunt.
“Well, stop playing guessing games and… ” he trails off, then. “You
broke a rule,” he mimics lost in thought. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “No,
man! You fucked up?”
Anger causes his green eyes to sparkle. Blocking me from Monàe’s
sight, “Don’t tell me you snapped.”
“Nothing like that, but I did enough to be put on the radar,” I admit.
“Jesus,” cries Sloan.
“He called you when?”
“A few days after the Halloween train case. I thought it had
something to do with Tashia,” he explains.
“So, what does he want you to do?”
“Watch your back, make sure you aren’t fuckin up. I haven’t had
nothing to tell him other than you’re acting off like it’s your time of the
month,” he grumbles.
 “Don’t get like that. It ain’t like before,” I promise.
“It fuckin better not be,” Sloan growls, stepping closer to me. Gone
is his easy smile. “I’m married, now. You actually think we can keep our
secrets with nosy-ass women watching us? Who’s radar?”
“I didn’t see them, but the message Lucian delivered came from
them,” I reply.
Sloan shakes his head. “It’s more than that,” he points out.
“My stepdad, Piamon,” I suggest.
“That sounds right,” he nods. “I’m riding third wheel with you and
this one.”
“I don’t see the need. I mean, it’s been a while, and nothing has
popped off. I’ve been toeing the line, Mr. Bojangles,” I remark in a
dramatic tone as I act as if I’m running from an invisible whip.
“What have you found?” I call out.

MONÀE
I couldn’t catch nothing. Not a word, a sentence, nothing of what
Keagan and Sloan were running their mouths about. What I did pick up was
that it was important. Why else would they be in each other's faces, all
hush-hush, and blocking me from reading their lips? You know I was trying
too before Sloan put his back to me. What the hell is going on? I thought
that Keagan was done hiding stuff. I let the train bullshit slide. I wasn’t
about to get caught up in some Government dark ops shit. Now, this. He
promised me.
For days, he had me wondering about his actions. A few times, I
even considered doing a pop-up to see what he was up to. I mean, he goes
from not being able to get enough of me, to him skipping nights at my
place. I could never reach my car fast enough without him offering to drive.
I started expecting to pull into the police garage riding shotgun in his car in
the morning.
 “Why are you asking me? Aren’t you going to do your… thing?” I
ask as I wave my hand in the air.
Keagan tilts his head. “What thing?” He shrugs.
“You do that Sherlock shit and pick up on everything,” I explain.
He chuckles, and my heart skips a beat. I’m falling. No,
correction… I’ve fallen. Ya’ll, I don’t want to mess this up. I pray to God
that things aren’t going stale. Half of me wants to ask him, while the other
half is scared to seem needy. Keagan doesn’t appear to go for that kinda
woman. He says he wants me to be independent, which I’m all for, but
there’s something in all women that want to let go, give in, and give over
control. For so long, I’ve had to guard myself, fight to be seen, and play the
hand that was dealt to me. Failure was never an option, not for me. Michelle
got pregnant, and it was no big deal. No, that just meant I had to do better,
go further to pick up the slack. In spite of it all with all the mistakes, I think
I came out alright, so I’m not complaining. However, I just want to be…
shit, I don’t know. I want to be treasured.
“Not this time. You’re lead on this one.”
“Is this a prank? Is this what you two were cooking up over in the
cut?” I respond to Keagan.
“Listen, it’s cold as a witch’s tit out here, so what you found out?”
presses Keagan while he pulls his leather jacket closed.
“The call was a hit and run,” begins Sloan.
“Yeah, but I don’t think so,” I say.
I can’t help but sneak a glance at Keagan in hopes that I could read
his face. So, am I on the right track in saying that? His handsome, bearded
face is void. His baby blues are watching me as he hangs on my words.
Fuck! Why am I doubting myself? I might have fucked to get this position,
but that didn’t take away from my skills.
I mentally shake myself. “You didn’t see this?”
“What? I only pulled up a few minutes before you did,” said Sloan.
“Over here,” I say as I start to walk out of the ditch toward the road.
“Here. The tire tracks, see? The car came to a stop… then, it accelerated.
That accounts for the burn of rubber on the road.”
“Shit,” hisses Sloan. “Hey! Hey, get a marker over here, now. You,
take a camera and process this,” he points. “Blind-ass motherfuckers,” he
shouts at his employees.
“Then, there’s this,” I announce.
I crook my finger for them to follow me back into the ditch. The
poor woman’s eyes have glazed over with the cloak of death. Her already
pale skin has taken on a blue hue from the lack of blood flow and cold. It’s
been a good minute since a body has gotten to me. I guess I’m due for a
shock cause I can feel my face twisting with disgust. My response lets me
know the job hasn’t hardened me completely. I am still human underneath
the badge and the invisible shield I wear over my emotions.
Clicking on my small, hand light, I inch close to the woman’s body.
“Look at this,” I order. “I notice the red tip on her finger of her left
hand. It could have just been from the blood spray… but I looked closer,”
pausing, I shift the light to her right hand. “It was clutched closed.”
Keagan is standing so close to see what I’m showing them that I can
feel the heat of his body. With my pencil, I force the woman’s stiff fingers
back to reveal the clue she left for us to find.
“I’ll be,” sighs Keagan in awe. He steps back to give Sloan room to
see, too.
“Amazing,” Keagan breathes in awe. “In her last breath, she left a
message.”
I nod as I glance back into the palm of the woman’s hand to read;
murd
“She was writing out, Murder,” I say, stating the obvious. “My guess
is she ran through the woods. Her feet are cut up really bad. She makes it to
the road-“
“Only for her killer to catch her and run her over,” Sloan finishes
with a whisper. “Can’t say she wasn’t a fighter.”
We fall silent as we take a moment to collect ourselves.
 “I won’t have the I.D. till the morning. If there’s more to report,
you’ll have it by then. Um, you guys probably want to leave before the car
is removed,” suggests Sloan.
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Born and raised in New York, the
freezing temperatures don’t bother me. I know my shivering has nothing to
do with the cold. It’s that woman… and my worries over Keagan, that has
set me off. I mean, Sloan is right. That woman fought. Not only her feet, but
the scrapes on her legs, arms, and body tell a story of the fear that caused
her to run half-naked in the cold in hopes of getting away. Animal! That’s
what the fucker was that did this.
“You okay?”
I’m startle at the sound of Keagan’s voice. Confused, I glance
around to get my bearings. I thought I have walked to my car. Yet, I was
standing, looking lost in the middle of the road.
“Me? Yeah,” I lie. Taking a deep breath, “I was just thinking.” At
least that was true. “I’ll see you in the morning,” I say it like it’s a
statement, so why am I lingering to read his expression?
Keagan towers over me, tilting his head.
“I guess so,” he speaks, slowly.
Guess so? What the fuck is that? I hate this playground, first crush,
bullshit vibe going on between us. I remind myself not to be pushy. I’m
always coming off like that in relationships. I was that way with Justin.
Flirting my ass off, making myself available for a quick fuck to get him
wiggling like a worm on a hook. Things were different with Keagan. He
used to be the one running after me, chasing my ass, lending a hand,
pushing back when I resisted, and now… Maybe he was that kinda of guy.
You know the one that always come around smelling good and dressing fly,
then they stop once they have you.
I fight to keep a straight face. With a crooked smile, I walk away.
 CHAPTER THREE
MONÀE
I’m ruined. Go on and laugh at me because it’s true. I’ve been taking
my annoyance out on everything in the house. The hairbrush flies across the
room after I’ve laid my edges. With a frown, I stand in my closet to glare at
the line of clothes.
“Fuck it,” I mumble.
Walking out into the room and out my bedroom, I speed walk
through my place to the kitchen. The coffee maker gets a few slaps as I load
a single serving of coffee. I jerk open the cabinet doors only to slam them
closed a second later. I got to get it all out now because with Keagan, I am
damn sure not going to let him know he’s fucking with my mind. If this is a
game, my ass is ready to tap out.
“His ugly ass,” I grumble. “I ain’t begging. I promise you that,
motherfucker,” I grunt to the air while I load my coffee with too much
sugar.
Suddenly, I freeze. A knock on the door rips me from my rant.
Slowly, I lower the cup to the granite countertop. I wait, and the knock
comes a second time. The sound produces a broad smile. Screw ya’ll. Yeah,
I was just talking shit about Keagan. Don’t look at me side-eyed. You know
I was full of shit. The renewed bounce in my step as I glide to the door says
it all. I might be getting wet at the thought of him being here, but I give you
Scout’s Honor I won’t make getting this pussy easy.
“Why are you knocking, now?” I shout.
Glancing in the mirror on the wall, I take note of the thin materialled
tank top that’s hugging the hell out of my breasts. Taking a second, I rub the
shirt against my nipples to make sure they get Keagan’s eyes. He loves
sucking on my boobs. Hey, I said I was going to make him work. I said
nothing about not teasing. Shit, my ass is in need of a shot of vitamin D. I
can already feel the sweet pain of Keagan’s dick stretching me wide.
 I damn near pull the door from the hinges when I open it. Wide
eyed, I stand flabbergasted.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
That coy, slick smile he gives me isn’t the answer I was waiting for.
“Ah, Monàe… you aren’t happy to see me?”
I ball up my fist. This asshole has it coming.

KEAGAN
I’m messing this thing up. You don’t have to tell me. I already know.
I don’t know why I’m making this so hard? I know I want Monàe. I think
she wants me. Well, I know she does when I’m licking her pussy clean. I
ain’t dumb enough to know that you need more than that, but many
relationships are born of the flesh and later, become of the heart.
Sighing, I pull into the parking garage. It’s early enough to ensure
she’s still at home. Even still, I check to make sure her car is still here
before I head for the elevator in the lobby. I made sure to stop by the small
Jewish deli on the way over to get one of those gooey Danishes she likes. I
am trying to stack the odds in my favor, so when I tell her I’m sorry for
being strange towards her, she’ll forgive me.
We’re going to talk, but I’m hoping we can seal the deal with a little
pre-work sex. It’s going on eleven days since I had a nut. Monàe was off
limits for five of those days, and although I love fuckin when the pussy is
red, I’ve never asked Monàe if she was into period sex. Many women are
standoffish when it comes to that. Yet, they know that about the third day
on the rag, they are horny as hell. Pussy throbbing and ready for a good
dicking, but they are scared of the mess. Nothing that a little shower sex
can’t handle. I’m not dumb, though. I knew the women that were willing,
and I waited months before I broached the subject.
I’m walking on air. My heart was beating high as I wondered how
Monàe will look when I get into her place. Her door key is burning a hole in
my pocket. Will I catch her in the shower… her brown skin wet with water,
her pussy all slippery, and freshly washed for my tongue? My rock-hard
dick is straining my jeans with a desire to be put to use.
“Sir?”
Yeah, I hear Jacque, the doorman, calling me. I consider changing
my path to take the stairs instead of the elevator to avoid him.
“Um, sir?”
I’m deaf as a corpse. I don’t want to deal with being the owner of
this multi-million dollar property at the moment.
“Mr. McCormac? Maybe you should take your time going to Miss
Reeves apartment.”
That right there cured my sudden hearing impairment. Not facing
him, I tilted my head.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
The man is fidgety. His eyes are shifty, not looking directly in my
piercing blue eyes. The fake smile I try to paint on my face does nothing to
settle him. In fact, he takes a step back. Not having that, I take a larger step
toward him. My buff body bumps into his equally toned one.
“You wanted my attention. Now, you forgot how to talk?”
Clearing his throat, “I was trying to inform you of her visitor.”
He’s trying to be cautious, choosing his words with care. Fuck that
shit. I crook my eyebrow. I blink as if I’m confused. I want Jacque to say it.
“Visitor? Why would you stop me for a person that’s on her list
visiting?”
I can play that artful, flowery speech bullshit, too.
“Sir, this, um... man wasn’t on the list. He said he was here for a
different resident. Since, he was a new face, I watched him on the
cameras… and he went to… well… ”
I narrowed my eyes, glaring at Jacque.
 MONÀE
“You need to leave,” I state. I’ve got no time for this, little man.
“Hold, up. You’re going to treat me that way?”
“Listen, I didn’t invite you to the home welcoming for a reason.
Why aren’t you knocking on your baby mama’s door?” I say. Sarcasm was
dripping from my lips.
“Shit, girl… you need to let that go. I fucked up. Lord knows, I’m
paying for it. Worst mistake of my life.”
“Wait a second, now,” I spit with my hand up. “You’re talking about
my nephew. You did me dirty by fucking around on me with Michelle, but I
love that little big head.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
The sadness in his voice is tangible. Rico Hernandez; tall, hair cut in
a low fade with soft curls on top, a cocoa-colored Dominican. The man is a
triple threat full of natural talent, sharp as a tack, and handsome. This man
here was my life, once upon a time. His one weakness, we all have one, was
that he liked to party. Hitting the clubs, tossing back a few, sweating on the
dance floor like most of us consider a good time was tame for a person like
him. For a person like Rico that had connections and millions from getting
his head beat in during the pro football season, it was never a party without
mountains of coke and weed.
So, what happened? If you haven’t guessed, Michelle is what
happened. I met Rico while working a case. Shots had been fired at a
downtown club. The cops were called. Nothing kicked off until a few weeks
after the case had been closed. The fact that the incident had nothing to do
with Rico, eased my mind of allowing him to holler. Needless to say, when
rank-ass Michelle found out I had entered the door that leads to men in a
higher tax bracket, she was riding me to tag along. She worked it, fucking
around in hopes of getting a man. However, she must love the taste of my
pussy because, in spite of all the free men around, she found a way to end
up sucking on Rico’s dick.
 “I wish to God I had never invited Michelle to my house. I swear, I
never thought she was gunning for me. She’s your sister. I was so coked
out, I-“
“She didn’t get knocked up the first time, Rico,” I pointed out,
cutting him off.
“Yeah, I know,” he mumbles.
His gaze traveling down my body reminded me that I’m standing in
the doorway in nothing but a sleep tank top. He must have known I was
getting ready to send him on his way because he changed his line of attack.
“How is my boy? I hope the money I’m paying is going for his
good.”
I won’t be suckered in. “He’s doing great,” I reply as I step back into
my place.
“Yeah, Justin suggested that I should look you up. He said that you
could maybe set up a visit for me.”
Shit! I was almost free, but with Rico speaking that name, here I am
stepping back into the trap.
“What did he have to say about me?”
The sparkle in Rico’s eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. Half of me says,
why do I even care, but you know how it is. Your ears itch to hear gossip, it
doesn’t matter if it's about you. You still want to know what’s being said.
“The boy is gone in the head over you,” he pauses to lean into the
doorway. “Then again, I can’t blame him, though,” he finishes with a lick of
his lips.
“So, he told you where I was living.”
“Justin let it slip,” Rico admits. “He also said some white fuck-boy
got you on lockdown.”
Tossing back my head with a little laugh. “Keagan is far from a fuck
boy,” I finish in an eye roll.
“Why don’t you let me in, and we can see how he stacks up to me.”
 KEAGAN
The entire ride, I retained my composure. With the Danish in hand, I
whistled to the music coming through the speakers. I remind myself of the
consequences of breaking a rule. Yet, that ticking, the one that I warned you
about happening in my mind when I’m close to snapping, is echoing in my
head. The devil is dressing in his black reapers coat in the corner. He’s
cleaning his tools of the trade. He’s getting ready and is on standby.
The elevator doors barely open, yet I’m stepping out. I’m a man
with purpose as my wide strides eat up the carpeted hallway. The few
people that walk out their doors to leave only have to take a look at me, and
they are reversing back into the places to lock themselves in until I pass.
Rounding the corner, I focus on the pair. The shirt Monàe is wearing
conjures memories of nights I stayed over. The fact that she’s standing in
her opened door practically naked has my mental ticking speeding up. No
longer a faint sound, it’s now a goddamn roar.
I force my gaze from her smooth, brown thighs. I size up the man
that’s leaning into her doorway. A grizzly bear of a motherfucker. I’m
relishing in the strength it’s going to take to kill him. Cracking his skull was
going to be a chore I’m going to enjoy. My mouth begins to water over the
smell and the feel of his blood spilling from the gaping wounds my fists are
going to make.
I narrow my eyes at the sound of Monàe’s laughter. Oh, she likes
jokes, huh? Look at her; head tossed back to give that fucker an eye full of
her breast in her low cut shirt. I hope he was a good warm up cause the
main event has arrived. I take note of the frown she gives the punk after he
whispered something to her. It’s a damn good thing that she puts space
between their bodies. That right there gives me pause that maybe things
aren’t what they seem to be, at least on her side. I’m a man. I know that
look of ‘let me hit it’ Mr. Dead Man Walking is giving. He’s shooting his
arrow.
I don’t know what it is that causes Monàe to glance down the
hallway.
 Oh, yes, Baby… it’s me. Pick your mouth up off the ground. Oh,
no… don’t try to put a mountain-sized gap between the two of you. What?
You got nothing more to chin and grin about in the hallway, half-naked with
this asshole?
The sight of the fucker reaching out to grab her by the arm in an
attempt to keep her from backing into the apartment has me balling up my
fist.
“Mo, what… ” confused he looks down the hallway. Seeing me, he
straightens up to do that head to toe, crumbled up, dissing you kinda
expression. “Who the-“
That’s all he manages to get out. I don’t pause. I don’t blink. My
hand travels from Kingdom Come behind my back to knock him in the
head. The slap sounds like the crackle of lightening. The force is so strong
that it causes his head to slam into the wall. Like a sack, he crumbles to the
ground in slow motion, out cold.
“That’s who the fuck I am,” I growl. Turning on Monàe, “Get in the
house.”
I shove Monàe in the chest, not giving her a choice. The door slams
behind me as I enter after her.

MONÀE
I’m scared. I’m wet, but not, just between my legs. I can feel sweat
collecting in my armpits. The way Rico’s neck snapped, his head hitting the
wall, shit, his jaw from Keagan’s open-handed slap… it was just a slap,
but… Lord, I’m scared.
“We need to check his vitals,” I announce, taking a step towards the
door.
“Leave him.”
Not giving up, “But he could be hur-“
“Leave him,” he roars, making me freeze.
 How can Keagan speak in such a frightening, booming tone while
he remains free of expression? He’s blocking me from the door. If shit pops
off, I’ll have to try to make it to one of the rooms. You might think I’m
overreacting, but you aren’t standing in the room with this man. I’ve never
seen Keagan mad. Is he even mad? Then again, people display emotions
differently.
He’s just standing there, watching me, calculating my thoughts. I
don’t like it. I take in the size of his tattooed covered body. Keagan is
massive at 6’11 and all muscle. Even with all my defense training, my ass
didn’t stand a chance. Strategy is a waste of time against a man that can’t be
read.
“I didn’t invite him,” I try to reason. “He, he didn’t even make it
across the door.”
“No, you just stood in the door and gave everyone a show.”
I bite down on the remark sitting on my tongue. I’m not crazy. I’m
not on equal footing here. Then again, maybe I am a bit off my rocker. The
way my body is tingling due to Keagan’s display has me considering my
mental status. This shit is sexy as hell. This right here was what I was
talking about; the old Keagan that knocked me on my ass with all his
strength.
I guess he’s tired of staring because he shocks me when he begins to
walk past me. I steal a glance at the open path to the front door for a split
second. Sorry, Rico. You’re in the Lord’s hands, now. I follow Keagan into
the kitchen. I keep the island between us to give me a few seconds lead if I
need to run. The silence stretches out while he grabs a saucer, dumps the
contents from the little paper bag to place it on the bright yellow saucer.
He pauses to touch my coffee cup. Briefly, our eyes meet. I don’t
crack a smile at his arched eyebrow. A slight nod of his head registers. Did
he just test the temp of my mug to determine if I was lying about the time I
had been at the door? The thought has my handle on my temper slipping.
An arrogant MF is what he is.
“Don’t do that,” I order.
 I watch as Keagan ignores me to cut my favorite Danish into pieces.
I hate that shit. He knows I like to eat it by taking my time unraveling each
sweet, gooey layer. I shift my weight. Utterly destroyed.
“Here,” he offers, holding a piece between his two fingers for me to
eat.
“Throw it away. I don’t want it,” I grunt.
Leaning over the island, he taps my closed lips. The smell of the
Danish makes my stomach rumble, while the presentation makes me frown.
Keagan flips my bottom lip with the piece.
“Eat it, Monàe,” he growls.
I glance down at his fingers to read the tattooed message, LIVE on
his five digits.
“I ain’t Tina, Ike. Get that shit out of my face,” I growl back as I
shove his hand out of my face.
I blink when he throws the piece of food across the room. Ok, run or
stay is the question that is taking me too long to decide as he walks around
the island. I always wondered why people just stared into the face of
possible danger. I’m like, move your ass. Get the fuck out of the way, duck
and weave, do something, damn it.
“I can put something else in your face,” he whispers.
“You need to calm down, Keagan.”
“Oh, I am calm, Monàe. Seeing you in nothing with a fucker
grinning in your face at… 6 AM is normal.”
“I didn’t ask him over.”
“Who is he?”
I stumble for a second. “He’s Michelle’s baby daddy.”
Caught it, my slight hesitation. Shit, he’s in detective mode.
“Why the hell is he coming to see you?”
I got to switch this around. If not, he’s going to learn the full story.
You know, the one about Rico and I rocking it for near a year and a half
before he started creeping with Michelle. So, what do I do? I blast his ass.
 “How the fuck you come off trying to get in my grill after going
cold on me for weeks,” I shout.
Come on, Keagan… clap back. I can’t deflect unless you’re willing
to play. Instead, he just analyzes me with his piercing blue eyes.
“You keep tilting that big head of yours, it’s gonna topple you over.
That dumb look is old, Keagan.”
“What the hell-“
“You better watch the way you’re coming at me,” I warn. “I swear
I’m about to go, basic, white female on you.”
His eyes fall to my balled fists.
“This the game you’re playing… flipping shit.”
By this time, I’m too far gone. My mask is off, and what I’ve been
trying to hide is on full display.
“No, you seem to be the game master, Keagan. I’ve been keeping it
real the entire time. You’re the one switching out.”
“How?” he questions, folding his arms over his chest.
“How?” I repeat in a high pitched voice, flabbergasted. “First, I’m
tripping over you cause you say you want me. Then, your Ex pops up, and
now you’re getting all cold,” I accuse.
“I was trying not to scare you off.”
“You just bitch slapped somebody… and you talking about not
scaring me. What the fuck was all that for, then? Nicca, please,” I tsk. “You
ain’t playing me like this, Keagan. Take your ass back to your bitchy wife
cause I’m taking my own self off the hook. For weeks, I’ve been up in my
feelings, wondering, second-guessing shit,” I pause. “Say something!” I
scream, sweeping my hand across the kitchen island to knock the saucer to
the ground. The dish hits the floor, shattering. “You know damn well I like
those Danishes, and you had to fuck it up… cutting it into pieces.”

KEAGAN
 What the hell? I wonder.
I’m trying as hard as I can to follow Monàe’s words as she goes into
a rant. No, this isn’t a rant. This woman is cursing me out. A couple of
times, she actually pushed me. In awe, I watch her, arms waving in the air,
chest heaving. How the fuck is she able to get so many sentences in with
one breath? If she quits being a detective, a female rapper would be a good
career choice for her.
“Sip on this tea,” she sasses. “Michelle got a baby on Rico, but he
was dating me. You think I want that two-faced fucker?”
To be honest, it never crossed my mind that Monàe was messing
around. I just wanted to kick his ass and send a warning to her that I don’t
share.
Shit, now what? I think.
I got her started. Yeah, I knew she was picking a fight to hide that
little secret but now she won’t shut the hell up. Ah, that’s interesting. The
thing about people when they are mad is that in the moment of anger, they
speak from the heart. Yeah, they’ll try to make you believe otherwise once
shit calms down, but it’s a lie. If a person shows you who they are, believe
it the first time.
The more Monàe yells and spits, the more I see… the more I feel.
Every relationship isn’t the same. I realize that now. I still have to read
between the lines to understand what she’s saying, but school was never
hard for me.
“Monàe,” I whisper.
She’s talking so loud, she doesn’t hear me. Sighing, “Monàe,” I try
again. Annoyed, “Monàe!” I snap.
“I heard you the first time.”
“Then, why didn’t you shut the fuck up?”
“Cause I don’t want to hear the sound of your voice. As a matter of
fact,” she pauses to turn her head, “I can’t even stand looking at your ugly
ass,” she grumbles.
“You’re acting dumb,” I point out, frowning.
 “You seem to like doing it, so let me join the party,” she remarks.
“That’s going to make work kinda hard,” I point out.
“I don’t think so. It will be business as usual, actually,” she replies,
walking away. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes, Detective.”
I grit my teeth. Now that Monàe’s gone, my face darkens. She thinks
she’s won. Nah, sweetheart. She told me all I needed to know. All the
voices in my head have been put to rest. For the first time in a long time, I
have to tip my hat to the Devil chuckling in the corner. He was right the
entire time.
Gliding down the hall, I press my shoulder against the door frame of
Monàe’s room door. My hooded eyes don’t miss a beat as I watch her get
dressed. A smile tugs on my lips as I imagine how my day is going to end. I
can hear her still talking shit under her breath. Whatever. None of that is
gonna stop me from popping her hood and giving her an attitude
adjustment.
 CHAPTER FOUR
KEAGAN
I think I’m about to chip a tooth or pop a vein due to grinding my
teeth to keep from going off on Monàe. The constant bitching is getting on
my last nerve. I lean to open the door, she chooses to walk out of the other
one. I open the car door. After she got in, I swear she sprung my fingers
when she snatched the door to slam it closed. That right there had me
balling up my fist. My door! That’s my baby she’s taking her ill-placed
anger out on. Did I say anything, though? Huh? Fuck no. Instead, when I
got behind the wheel, I gave her a forced, toothy grin.
I said nothing when she tuned the radio into the Steve Harvey Show.
Hold up. I got nothing against the guy. No, my issue is the talking. I don’t
give a damn which station it is. I can’t take all that fuckin talking. If I
wanted to hear talking, I'd listen to a damn talk show. I don’t want a damn
traffic report. I can give two shit about who’s fuckin who, what happened
on Dancing With The Stars, or some other bullshit. Just play the goddam
music! Three songs followed by fifty fucking commercials isn’t playing
music. The thing is, Monàe knows it. Either Spotify, a CD, or the humming
of the engine, take your pick. What did she do, though? She strapped her
stiff-neck ass into the seat, then turned the radio to that loud mouth,
cackling group of hosts.
Once again, I smile and pretend as if the shit wasn’t getting to me.
Believe me… it is every goddam minute that passes. No music, not even
half of a song… just goddamn talking and mindless bullshit. My day is
going to be shit. I need my music to get me right in the morning, damn it.
However, I refuse to let her know she’s winning. I can tell by the way she’s
cutting her eyes at me, she’s trying to see the signs of me breaking. I won’t,
though.
“Will you please, stop? I’m trying to listen.”
I arch an eyebrow. I smirk. I pause, but then, the way she rolls her
brown eyes pisses me off.
 “Keagan, I asked you to stop the humming,” she hisses.
Is she talking to me like a child? I know my ears must be deceiving
me. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I have to check my reflection. Surely,
Monàe has confused my big, tattooed self to be a child that she can tell
what to do. I switch humming tunes like I’m shifting gears. I even bust out
a few Christmas classics. I jingle bell our asses all the way back to the
crime scene, where Sloan is meeting us. I didn’t care that I only can
remember one verse of the song. I hum that shit on repeat, jazz it up, and
create a remix of that motherfucker.
Monàe practically leaps from my car when I pull to the side of the
road. Not as many as last night, but enough police presence for drivers to
slow down and rubber neck.
“What’s happened?” I question Sloan. It’s still cold as hell out. The
sun beaming above doesn’t do shit to warm things up.
“I expanded the search into the woods. I even brought a team of
dogs to try to map out the route the deceased took,” he explains.
“Were you successful?”
Sloan stumbles for a second in regards to Monàe. No doubt, he’s
picked up on her crisp, formal speech pattern.
“Well, I believe-“
“The short version,” I cut in, shivering slightly.
“Let the man talk. If you would stop butting in,” looking at Sloan,
“Please ignore the Detective. Take your time,” she smiles with a nod.
Of course, Monàe knows I’m hating the cold.
“Detective?” repeats Sloan, eyeing me.
I roll my eyes.
“The dogs were able to give us an idea of where she went. Nothing
that can really be used in court, but enough to point us in the right direction.
She followed this path here. With the light snowing, any traces of blood
were covered, but the scent was still there.” Sloan says while tracing his
finger along a line drawn in green ink on a map. “It appears to be a popular
running and biking trail.”
“Which is why we can’t use it in court. No telling when she actually
walked it,” I sigh.
“Who was the poor woman?” asked Monàe.
Sloan hands over a folder. Monàe hogs it. Taking pity on me, Sloan
tells me what I could read on my own if Monàe weren’t being a bitch.
“Katara Daniels, twenty-nine, single, and comes from money.
Nothing major in the system, not even a speeding ticket,” Sloan rattles off.
“Hell, with money, she didn’t have to drive herself,” I mention.
Sloan just shrugs.
“She might have been running from her home. It’s about ten miles
from where she was ran down,” adds Sloan.
“Wait up,” pausing with a big-eyed stare, “Her sister was Erika
Daniels?”
“The one and the same,” answers Sloan.
Slapping the folder down on the roof of Sloan’s car, “Chad
Rothchild’s ex?” presses Monàe, just to make sure. At Sloan’s nod, she
groans.
I wait a few seconds. “Well, since my partner isn’t going to do it,
would you be so kind?” I ask Sloan, sarcastically.
“It would be my pleasure,” he grunts, cutting his eyes at Monàe. “A
few years back, we were called in on a suspicious death. It happened around
wintertime when a lot of parties were going on in the area. So, Chad’s
wife… um, Erika Daniels, a much younger woman, drops dead at the dinner
table. In front of fifty or more guests, she starts to foam at the mouth. Come
to find out, almonds had been ground up and sprinkled into her food. The
woman was deathly allergic.”
“So, did one of the cooks mess up the meal?” I question.
“That was the final ruling.”
“But?” I stress. I’m ready to get back in my warm car.
 “The cook prepared Erika’s food, personally. It was all cooked up by
the same husband and wife team that was on staff since Erika was a child,”
finishes Sloan.
I narrow my eyes. If that was the case, the cooks wouldn’t have
made such a mistake. I’m sure that the investigation was closed with
something written to the effect of, “Due to the hustle and activity of the day,
the staff cooks made a mistake that cost Mrs. Erika Daniels her life.” As
long as her husband didn’t press charges, it was an open and closed case.
“Who stood to profit? Her husband?” Closed case or not, I don’t
believe Erika’s death was a slip of the hand… and her sister’s death damn
sure wasn’t.
“No, not him. The man is boo-hoo rich up the ying-yang. Her
money went back into the trust that was set up by her dead parents. Her
sister and their brother, Noelle, got the money after Erika died. One more
thing though… I told you that their parents died. Well, since they were
minors when it all went down, the kids were sent to live with a guardian…
Chad Rothchild.”
A twisting of my lips disfigured my face at the name Sloan just
dropped. I scrub my hand down the front of my face as I process this
bullshit.
“So, the ward… the girl, how old are we talking?” I wonder.
“Erika was the second oldest. She was fourteen when they came to
Chad’s place. It’s rumored they started fucking when she was sixteen and
married when she was nineteen. Chad was in his late thirties when the kids
moved in.”
My expression is one of surprise, not only because of the answer to
my question, but also because it was Monàe that answered it.
“Any sexual assault found on Katara?”
“If you had read the report, you would have seen there wasn’t,
Detective.”
I grind my teeth. I’m a cunt hair away from slapping the bitch out of
Monàe. I begin to speak, only for Sloan to save Monàe’s ass from my
wrath.
“No rape, but she had sexual contact a few hours before.”
“Ok, let’s get on with the interviews. We’ll go to her home first…
then, move on,” announces Monàe with a clapping of her hands.
“I’ll follow in my own car,” Sloan informs us.
Yeah, I wish I had that luxury, today.
“You’re tagging along? Great idea. That will hopefully make me
look good by taking some of the attention off of Detective McCormac,” she
smiles before she walks away toward my car.
Sloan’s cold gaze glares at Monàe’s back. He says nothing to me.
He better not. I’m not in the mood to hear more shit. I throw my car door
open, get in, and right as Monàe reaches for the seat belt, I snatch her ass
out of the seat. My movements are fast, while I hit the button on the side of
my seat to cause it to slide back, making just enough room for her body to
sit on my lap. Oh, I see it coming. She’s opening her mouth for another
reason other than to suck my dick.
“Enough,” I fume, catching her off guard. If Monàe were smart, she
would fix her face. I reckon she’s coming up short this morning in the brain
department. Gripping her by the shoulders, I shake her hard, hoping to
knock something loose in her thick head. The car sways. The side of her
body bumps the horn a few times.
“Let me go!” she yells.
Shit, I can do that, too… and then some. I tighten my grip.
“God, if I had known you would keep going on like a goddamn
bitch, I would have given you an adjustment before we left.”
“You can keep that lame dick game,” she sass.
“Are we talking about this dick?” I ask, placing her hand on my
crotch. “Not this dick that has you snoring, mouth open, before it stops
jerking in the palm of my hand? Nah, you must be confusing me with some
other fuck boy you’ve wasted your time with. Now, let me tell you how this
is going to go,” I say, dropping my voice low. “You’re going to face the
window, you can bitch me out under your breath, but by the time we get to
these people’s house, you’re going to have a shit eating grin on your face,
and you’re going to respect me. Understand? Don’t make me punch you in
the pussy with my dick before it’s time, Monàe.”
Not giving her the opportunity to respond, I shove her back into her
seat. “Face the window,” I snap, making her jump.
To prove I mean business, I switch to my satellite radio station.
Putting the car into gear, “Fucked up my entire morning with this childish
bullshit. Look at me. You got me over here preaching like a goddamn
woman. You hear me?” I snarl. Then, in the next breath, “D, don’t look at
me. Talk to the goddamn trees.”

MONÀE
I bite my lip to stop the laughter from bubbling up. Keagan’s
reaction is priceless. I’ve stopped being mad at him hours ago. I was just
busting his balls for the joy of doing it. I knew that I was going to have to
quit fucking with him sooner or later. What I didn’t expect was for him to
come at me the way he did. Let me tell ya’ll something. The way a man
reacts to his lady when she’s mad or sad… all that pleading, going out of
his way to make it all better, it makes me melt.
I mean, Keagan is really in his feelings right now. Hard-faced,
narrowed eyes, mumbling to himself. Shit, he just caught me looking at
him. How can a man that looks the way he does be this moved? Oh, that
dick thing. In the few seconds, my hand was on his cock, it had hardened
and grown. What he said about punching me… he has a way with words.
He’s got me debating if I should play the bitch card a little longer to get a
shot of vitamin D early. Then again, it’s true. Keagan’s dick game be having
my ass hitting a high note. I ain't a fool risking having my uterus being
relocated from him fucking me mad.
“Is that a new jacket?”
Ugh! What the fuck? Of course, that’s the same worn out, leather
jacket he always wears. I roll my eyes, biting my lip. I can see his reflection
in the window. He’s just as confused by my comment as I am. Luckily, he
ignores me. I’m not one to kiss ass, but I know I have to act right as we pull
into the open iron gates to the sprawling estate.
I never liked these people. I was never cool with the way the last
‘unfortunate death’ was handled. I was here years ago as a ride-along
detective, trying to get respect in a man’s world. From jump street, I could
tell by the lack of invasive questioning that everything was going to be
hushed up. Come on! A blind man could see there was foul play. Or at least,
the old man should have been brought up on molestation charges for
fucking his wife before she was legal. However, like always, money talks.
“Keagan,” I start. Standing in front of the parked car, I give him a
blinding grin. I can see Sloan looking at me with a smug expression. Yeah,
Keagan got me right. Whatever.
“Dropping detective, huh,” Sloan teases.
Going on, “I know we have this new case, but if we happen to –“
“We’ll consider… the… other,” he mumbles while he cranes his
neck to see something in the distance. “You’re fucking with me,” he
mumbles as he tosses his head back to look up at the Heavens.
Confused, I glance over my shoulder. Nothing odd, by what I can
tell. There were a group of people working on a car. When the three of us
stroll by, I take a closer look.
“I wonder how that happened?” I voice, pointing at the busted tail
light that was currently being replaced.
“Who the hell knows?” Keagan remarks.
 CHAPTER FIVE
KEAGAN
What the hell was I gonna say? It was me. I kicked in the old
bastard’s tail light. We’re shown into a large gathering room off the foyer.
“Excuse me, why all the buzz?” I question the maid that was
showing way too much ass in her uniform to be just being paid to scrub
floors. I’m thinking she spit-shined a few knobs, too.
“Mr. Rothchild’s engagement party is tomorrow.”
“I see… and Ms. Katara Daniels still resides here?” I ask, making
sure to still use the present tense.
“Yes, in the home on the back of the estate with her brother.”
“Can we please speak with the brother, then?” I press.
“Since you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” The maid replies as
she sizes me up.
Behind her back, Monàe mimics the woman with a nasty
expression.

10:17am- Dopey Elf

“Mr. Noelle, these detectives are here to see you.”
Even with no blood in the air, even with me not tapping into my
other abilities, I can read the fear on this boy. As I promised, I nod my head
for Monàe to get on with the interview. Sloan and I watch.
“Um,” the guy starts, getting to his feet. He trips over the many
moving boxes cluttering the sitting room. “I thought that it was all taken
care of.” At our blank stares. “Cannabis is practically legal,” he whines.
“We aren’t here for that,” assures Monàe.
“Oh,” he chuckles, running his hands through his hair. “W, why are
you here, then?”
 Like the pro she is, Monàe breaks the sad news with just enough
sympathy.
“I wish we were here to slap you with a fine for smoking pot.
Unfortunately, it’s to inform you that your sister, Katara was killed.”
The poor guy lost it after that. He instantly went pale as he
staggered back as if he had been gut-punched by Monàe’s words.
“Y, you got the wrong person. S, see, I’ll show you,” he babbles
while fishing for his cell. “I’ll call her… and when she picks up-“
“If you can get Jesus on the line, He can pass the phone to your
sister, cuz that’s the only way,” I interject.
With a roar, he throws the cell. Monàe widens her stance just in case
the guy goes apeshit.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she says, trying to gain control of the
situation. “You didn’t know she wasn’t here?”
This is pure anguish I’m picking up on. He wasn’t faking.
“I knew she wasn’t home. I just thought she was hold up, pouting in
a hotel suite till the party was over,” he cries.
“She wanted to miss the party?”
“Hell yeah,” he scoffs. “Not another one. These people,” he roars.
“Look, I need you to calm down because you’re all over the place. I
know you’re hurting, but we’re trying to find out who wanted to harm your
sister,” explains Monàe.
That got him. His eyes dart to each of us in disbelief.
“She, she was murdered?” He says in a squeaky tone. “It’s these
people,” he whispers.
Plopping to the sofa, he retrieves his vape. Not giving a damn that
we’re there, he tokes it. There’s no mistaking the weed.
“What you said, explain,” demands Monàe.
“You had to know that my older sister was killed.”
“It was ruled accidental,” speaks Sloan, for the first time.
 “And I’m Mufasa of the jungle,” Noelle huffs. “She was offed.”
“One thing at a time,” pleads Monàe, eyeing Sloan. “Why would-“
“She thought she was so fuckin smart. The old fuck likes them
young,” he spits in disgust. “Erika was twenty-six, so it was only a matter
of time. She started blabbing that she was knocked up. Whenever the old
man’s eye wandered, she sang that “Think of the baby”, tune to make him
heel.”
“And she wasn’t?” Monàe knew from the file Erika wasn’t at her
time of death, three years ago.
“Fuck no,” grunts Noelle. Pausing, he glances around the room as to
check for eavesdroppers. “She paid one of the maids to pee on a stick… or
the maid’s friend. I don’t really know. I tried to stay out of it. How the hell
was she going to pull it off, I didn’t want to know,” he whispers.
We didn’t comment.
“How about the fact that two weeks later, weeping Chad was getting
his nuts snipped, and he wasted no time keeping with the doctor’s orders of
a nut a day with that bitch Fern,” he reveals.
“Noelle, we’ll keep everything in mind,” promises Monàe. “Now,
where were you last night?”
Noelle freezes. A deep frown creases his brow as her question
penetrates his mental haze.
“I’m a suspect?! Katara’s my sister,” he screams.
I catch the fact that Dopey is still using the present tense when
referring to his sister. That was a natural response that he couldn’t fake in
the heat of the moment. All this guy was guilty of was being a pothead.
Monàe, doing her job, didn’t let up though.
“True, and with her gone, you claim the entire inheritance your
parents left.”
For a second, Noelle gives Monàe a dumbfounded stare before he
doubles over in a harsh laughter. There was no joy in the sound. Hate. Lots
of hate.
 Getting a grip, “I love my Mom and Dad, miss them a lot, but they
were two dumb fucks,” he chuckles, then becomes serious. “What’s
millions if I can’t get to it, huh? I’m thirty-four… I got grey hair on my
balls, and I still have to beg that stingy motherfucker in the big house for
my money. Our parents named Chad as our guardian, but they never
hammered out the fine print regarding the trust. That’s the reason why Erika
opened her legs to that… that cunt snatcher in the first place. She thought if
she cockled him, she could get to our money. If I were going to kill
somebody, it would have been him.”
That bit sent Monàe retreating into her thoughts. I waited a good
minute to give her a chance to keep going.
“To be honest, I think you are right about your first sister. I wasn’t
here during that investigation, but it’s too obvious not to see it. Thing is,
with no connection or clues, our hands are tied,” I explain. “Now, if what
you say about the money is true, why are you leaving now?” I ask,
motioning to the boxes throughout the large home in the back of the
mansion.
“I could see that Chad was losing interest in Erika. I warned her and
Katara it was coming, but they didn’t listen. I started squirreling money
away. With Erika in his bed, the money flow was a steady stream for a
while.”
I nod. “Why didn’t you keep it in the family. Erika had her shot.
Why not Katara?”
The fact that Noelle didn’t blink an eye at my line of questioning,
spoke volumes.
“By the time Katara came up to bat, she was past that child
molesting age Chad likes. Just in case, Erika watched her like a hawk.
Don’t think Katara didn’t want to. She about shit herself when Chad and
Fern started up. Erika was in love with the status and money. Katara, in her
twisted mind, loved the nasty bastard.”
“Fern, the soon to be?” I sigh.
“The side bitch, soon to be the wife… yeah, her. Another one of
Erika’s bright ideas,” tsks Noelle. “She introduced Fern and her brother,
Herman, to Chad. My guess is Erika didn’t mind Chad fucking around as
long as she controlled it.”
“The lives of the rich,” Sloan mumbles with an eye roll.
“Welcome to the freak show,” scoffs Noelle.

MONÀE
I went silent during the interview. Now, I just listen. I’m lost as I
play out a hundred scenarios in my mind. I have to cool my jets. Solving
two murders would be wonderful, but I have to stay focused on the newer
case. You know, the case that’s actually open. Even still, I’m sure there is a
link. Sex and money, when dealing with the rich, are the usual kicking
points for murder.
In my thoughts, I nod to Noelle as I fall in step behind Keagan and
Sloan. I’m half listening, but a few of their remarks, I have to agree with.
I’m on board with Noelle not being the killer. There were no signs of him
lying. Of course, we’re going to check out his alibi to tie up that loose end.
The other thing the guys mention is how fucked up these people are. It’s
true. You got Chad’s old ass busting young girls’ cherries, an ex-wife that
was faking a pregnancy to keep him, and brings in a new, underaged, young
thing for him to fuck to keep him. Sick motherfuckers.
“I took the liberty of texting a friend to look into that trust thing.”
I stop in my tracks. I don’t want to miss a bit of Sloan’s information.
He glances at his cell to read, then looks at Keagan and me.
“It all checks out… what Noelle said. The parents were carjacked
and shot before they could complete the paperwork with the finer details.”
“I won’t be surprised if they were set up,” I grumble.
“Me neither,” agrees Sloan. “Seems that although Chad can’t access
the trust, he damn sure has been borrowing heavily against it. A million
here and there to finance his different ventures,” finishes Sloan.
 Keagan narrows his eyes while he looks out across the manicured
lawn. I can almost smell the burning oil from the wheels of his head
turning. I have no doubt that he’s close to figuring shit out. I have my own
theory, but I keep it to myself.

10:51am- Grumpy Elf

Herman Chestnut. Tall, lean muscled, and his deep, fake tan sets his
pale blue-green eyes off just right. He glances over his shoulder and decides
we are of no importance before going back to watching the rehearsal on the
lawn below.
“Herman Chestnut?”
His brow notches up an inch while he examines Keagan. He better
watch it is all I know.
“Did you take a wrong turn? Set up is down there,” he gestures with
his dirty blonde head to the ten or so people walking on the lawn below.
“Detective McCormac,” Keagan informs the man, opening his
leather jacket just enough to flash his shield. “My partners, Reeves and
Sloan.”
Now, we got the arrogant fuck. He takes a sip from his glass. He
places it on the concrete wall.
“Excuse me. This fan-fair has me in a mood. H, how can I help
you?”
I don’t butt in. I let Keagan handle things.
“We hate to put a damper on all of… this,” Keagan frowns. “This
morning, Katara Daniels was murdered.”
“You’re joking,” he chuckles. Darting his beady eyes, he looks to
Sloan and me to break a smile. We don’t. “I, I don’t accept what you’re
saying,” he announces. He folds his arms across his chest as if that action
would make his stance final.
“Where were you last night?” Snaps Keagan.
Herman’s jaw drops. “You’re not shitting me? Kat is really-“
 “Would I be getting blue balls in this cold if I wasn’t serious?” Sighs
Keagan.
The man covers his mouth in shock. “I was here last night.”
“Can anyone confirm that?”
“Well, my sister, Chad… the staff,” he adds for good measure.
“With an estate this large, slipping away would be easy. Katara lived
on the grounds, too, so opportunity.”
“Hold up, wait!” Herman commands. “All that is true, but what
motive would I have to do it?”
“Noelle let slip that Katara had the hots for Chad,” remarks Keagan.
“Jesus, I wish she could have worked her mojo on the fucker,”
grunts Herman.
Taken back, “You don’t approve?” I ask.
“Hell, no. The man is old,” he answers in disgust.
“Closer to the grave,” I point out.
“I doubt the marriage will last that long,” admits Herman.
“Is it true Erika introduced the two of you to Chad?”
Once again, Herman narrows his gaze in Keagan’s direction.
“I don’t care for your question.”
“It amazes me how you actually think I give a fuck,” smiles Keagan.
I can tell Herman is weighing his options from the way his eyes
roam up and down Keagan’s body. Finally, good sense won out.
“My sister, Fern… she knew Katara. I met her later on.”
What sets off bells in my mind is how Herman is distancing himself
by putting his sister in the spotlight. “My sister, Fern…she knew Katara. I
met her later on.”
Funny how he’s distancing himself. In a low-key way, he’s saying
his sister makes the decisions.
 I catch movement on the lawn below. His sister has spotted us. Now
she’s waving the group off as she walks towards us. I don’t have to ask
Herman if she indeed is his sister. Her air of self-importance says it all.
Young is the first word that springs to mind. Posh, is the next, followed by
cunt.
“I was working as an intern at one of Chad’s businesses. Nice
man…I have had no issues with him till he started gunning for my sister.
After Erika introduced us at a social gathering, I couldn’t shake the man,”
says Herman.
“Your sister doesn’t seem to share your feelings,” interjects Keagan.
“Yeah, well…money has a way of curing all that ails you,” Herman
suggests.
“You’re all but calling her a gold digger,” I state, amazed.
Herman shrugs. “It’s no doubting it once she opens her mouth.”
“Why aren’t you watching?”

11:45am- Happy Elf

“Why aren’t you watching?”
She’s asking her brother, but her eyes were on us.
“Fern these are detectives. A terrible thing has happened. Katara is
dead.”
The bitch tilts her head. Probably to get the sun out of her face to get
a clear sight of Keagan and Sloan. She doesn’t even pay me any attention.
Some wife this hoe was going to make.
“What a tragedy. What does that have to do with us?” She inquires.
“They are investigating her murder,” Herman stress, slowly to make
sure she was understanding.
“I’m not a retard…and you need to calm down,” she orders. “I
clearly get what they are doing. I’m trying to figure out the need in
questioning us. It’s not like we gave a damn about the dim whit, let alone
enough to kill her,” she barks.
 Herman jerks his head in our direction. He works his mouth to
speak, but only a groan escapes his thin lips.
“Can’t you pretend to care?” he whispers, grabbing her by the arm.
Fern frees herself. “Listen, Katara was a nuisance. Always
underfoot…like I was a replacement for her sister, which I wasn’t. I did my
part, smiled, gave her beauty advice that I wish she would have taken, but
that was it. You honestly think I was going to play sleepover when I’m
about to be wife of all this,” she finishes with a flurry of her ring-laden
hand.
“You aren’t looking really good, sis,” admits Herman. “In light of
things, maybe the engagement party should be pushed back…for a few
days, in honor of Katara,” he finishes in a rush.
I give the hoe credit. She drops her head, glares at the cobblestone
ground of the terrace as if she’s actually considering it. Shit, this bitch
won’t cancel even if Jesus and His twelve men were coming to dinner. A
few seconds later, she lifts her head. A bright, toothy grin puts all her pearly
whites on display.
“No. I want to make Chad happy. The show must go on.”
It was like I was watching a cheesy Anime. All that was missing
from her response was a corny Sailor Moon victory pose.
“So, the two of you were here all night?” I ask, moving things
along. The brother and sister arguing are getting on my nerves.
“I’m sure Hermie has already said so,” she smiles.
I tap my finger on my leg. Her sweet candy voice made me want to
slap her.
“Erika was your friend, and you’re marrying her husband,” Keagan
mentions.
“So, what? Happens all the time. Widows marry close friends,” she
retorts.
“According to Noelle, you and Chad started getting real, um,
friendly before the ground even settled on Erika’s grave,” smirks Keagan.
 “Oh please,” Fern sighs, rolling her blue eyes. “I was comforting
Chad. Noelle is just pissed that he has to move out.”
“The decision to leave wasn’t his own?” I question.
“No. I told him and Katara they had to pack up. You honestly think
I’m going to let them stay here? It’s my time. Hell, with the cash coming
their way, they could live wherever.”
“The trust?” I ask.
She gives me one of those nice-nasty smiles. “Katara had it in the
works to get a judge to overturn the ruling. I told her that she and Herman
could stay in a hotel till the papers were filed. Frankly, I didn’t care where
they went. They just couldn’t be here…underfoot.”
“Are you sure, cuz Noelle didn’t mention-“
“Yes, I’m sure,” she cuts me off with an over exaggerated sigh. “I
was the one helping her get it together. Now, if you’ll excuse-“
“You, fuckin bastard!”

The Scrooge
“You, fucking bastard!
The barking from the dogs dancing around our feet almost drowned
out the silver foxes remark, but I still heard it. Glancing over my shoulder
to see who the fuck the pompous ass was referring to had me coming up
short.
“This is the caveman that vandalized my car last night,” the man
jabbed his finger into Keagan’s chest.
“I would hate to add attacking an officer which is a heavier charge
than being dumb enough to drive with a bust light,” smirks Keagan.
“Oh, I wish you would. Forcing me to take a goddam detour for no
reason. It’s, it’s an excessive use of power. That’s what it is,” the man yells.
I know that informing a person of someone’s death shouldn’t bring
any pleasure, but I’m sure there is a slight smugness in Keagan’s voice.
 “If you would have seen the body of Katara Daniels last night, I
think you would understand why adding a few minutes to your drive was
necessary.”
“Beg your pardon? SHUT UP!” he yells at the dogs, causing them to
tuck their tails.
“They obey you?” I interject.
“They better. It’s all in the breeding and training,” Chad Rothchild
comments, mindlessly.
A lost expression falls over his face. He has no idea the reason why
we are taking an interest in his trained pets.
“It was Katara. While I was acting like an entitled ass…Kat was…”
he trails off unable to complete his sentence.
“Her murderer had taken her life long before then,” I state, sticking
the knife in deeper.
The man turns deathly pale in spite of his spray-on tan. Chad goes
silent.
“A crash?” Chad whispers.
“A hit and run with an obvious attempt to kill,” Keagan informs
him.
“She trusted me.”
Chad says it more to himself than us. Using the fact that he is in
shock, I ask him a few questions.
“Last night, you were coming from…”
“Um, a Christmas party,” Chad babbles.
“Alone?” I fire off.
“Y, yes. I asked Fern, but she wanted to stay at home…guessing to
work on our…” he turns his head to take in the blood red tent and people
working in the lawn, “event,” he finishes in a hush.
“We’re trying to identify the car that was used. Are any vehicles
missing?”
 Chad snaps his head back around to look at me. “Of course not.”
Then he stops with a sickening expression on his face. “Ugh…my, my
neighbor, he reported his car stolen. I just heard about it this morning
through the gossip mill.”
“We’ll check into it,” I say, nodding to Keagan. It was my way of
saying, ‘your witness’.
“Is it true that you were considering dissolving the trust and giving
Noelle and Katara their inheritances?”
From pale to beet red, Chad transforms in front of us.
“What foolishness are you going on about?” he growls.
“Well, it isn’t an unreasonable thing to do… with Noelle being in his
thirties and Katara twenty-five,” Keagan points out.
“It’s the first I’m hearing about it,” dropping his head. “Maybe I
should have done it before. If I had, maybe she would have lived her own
life instead of…” Chad shakes his head and swallows hard.
“I think that’s enough for now,” orders Fern, stepping next to Chad.
“Not now,” he cries, shoving her hand away as he stumbles off.
Frustrated, Fern bites her bottom lip. Stumping her Gucci loafer on
the cobblestone, she curses under her breath.
 CHAPTER SIX
KEAGAN
I don’t know what all that was. I watched, listened, and did my
thing. I don’t need mud covered boots to see the greed and lust going on in
that house, but is it enough to commit murder? All I know is that with a lot
of zeros comes to a long connection list. We have to make sure we have our
shit straight before we begin hauling suspects in.
“What you got?”
Sloan’s question breaks my train of thought. I pile my hands on top
of my head. My bun is always messy, so who cares.
“For one, we’ve found our hunting dogs,” I say.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean Chad was the one leading them. They
barked at us, but not at Fern and Herman,” remarks Monàe.
“True,” I huff. “Were you feeling Chad’s sappy reaction?”
“I damn sure believed him when he flipped out over the trust,” she
replies.
“Not to point out the obvious, cuz I’m sure you’ve already worked it
out, but he could have done it,” interjects Sloan.
“I’ve worked that out. Chad could have left the party, pulled off the
road, stole the car, and ran her down,” Monàe rattles off.
“Nope, what about the dogs chasing Katara through the woods?” I
remind her.
“It was a two-man job,” she concludes with a shrug. “One flushed
her out while the other finished her off.”
“But which one of those fucks did it?” I finish.
“How about I go check out the neighbor? If we confirm and find the
car, it will get us on the right path,” offers Sloan.
“We’ll dig into Fern’s claim of Noelle and Katara breaking the trust.
If she were successful, it would have landed Chad up shit creek,” I reply.
 AMALIE
I have a million problems, and this bitch is one. I fight to keep my
face free of the disgust I’m feeling right now. However, I have a burning
desire to kick this hoe in her cunt. Sloan would say I’m a glutton for
punishment. I would say I’m just a fool. A fool that can’t let go of the past.
Oh, not the vision of a kinder, less jaded Aleya, if there ever was. It’s the
past memory of a promise to my mother, Aleya’s aunt, to stick together, and
not let things come between us like it had with her and Aleya’s mother. My
mum never got over that… losing her sister to jealousy. Not a damn day
went by that she didn’t preach to me the dangers of allowing the past to
repeat itself.
As I glance around the stuffy ass high-end shop, I cry out.
Mum, this can’t be what you wanted. What about my happiness? Is it
ok for me to think about myself for a change and not…Please, Mum…give
me a sign!
I wait. A bell to ring, the lights to flicker, lighting to strike Aleya
down where she’s standing? I’ll take anything. After so many years of the
abuse, the ridicule, and the shame I’ve been dealt from my cousin’s
manicured hands, I’m ready to be set free.
My stomach trembles at the sound of her laughter. Look at her, head
tossed back, mouth opened wide. I want to gag. Yet, I join in with a weak
chuckle. I disgust my own self. Sloan has stopped voicing his feelings on
the entire matter. Why the hell should he when he knows I’m just going to
excuse whatever Aleya does or says. Then, I’ll pick myself up, dust myself
off, only to lay back on the ground for her to shit on me later.
Sloan. His name sends heat through me. I gladly allow myself the
freedom of indulging in my dreams. I love that man. He’s made me the
happiest woman in the world when he asked to marry me. It was a shock,
I’ll admit. Never did I think that he would fall for me after watching me
love and long for his friend, Keagan, in silence all those years. Keagan was
the only thing that made me be able to stomach Aleya. Of course, I know
she used her marriage to abuse me further, but it didn’t matter. I took it
gladly just to be in his presence.
So, I loved Keagan from a distance, never crossing that line. All the
while, Sloan was doing the same… loving me and never crossing the line of
friends.
“You’re a sad soul, Aleya. I think it’s your destiny to suffer.”
Sloan’s comment shocked me. He said it out of the blue one night.
“Huh?”
“The way you look at him from across the room… you’re suffering,
aren’t you?”
Like always, I tried to laugh it away.
“You’re drunk,” I scoffed.
He didn’t say anything. He just peered into my soul with his
dazzling green eyes. I think it was carrying the weight for so long that did
it, but I spoke the truth, at last.
“You know she isn’t faithful.”
“I know.”
He shocked me again.
“Why haven’t you told him? You’re his friend,” I exclaimed.
“That’s why I haven’t done so… and me doing so might give you
the opening you’ve been longing for. Then, it will be me standing out here
casting longing eyes on the woman I’m in love with but can’t be with. You
see, I still have a chance that one day you’ll stop fluttering your wings
around his window and finally see the candle I’ve been burning for you.”
Shaken. That’s the only word that comes remotely close to the way
Sloan’s confession affected me. I watched as he strolled back into the
house, pulled Keagan aside, and spoke to him. Keagan hid his reaction well.
So well that I couldn’t figure out what was actually being said. Was Sloan
telling his friend that Aleya was a cheating bitch? No, couldn’t be that.
However, I figured out that I was the topic due to the sudden change in my
and Keagan’s relationship. Oh, he treated me with kindness, but it was more
of how you treated an associate, respectful but tampered.
“What did you do? Why is he treating me different?”
I made sure to follow up with Sloan, a few days later. It was good
that it was a rainy day because it hid my tears. My Keagan, as he ever was,
had changed.
“I told him you were in love with him.”
I went into a blind rage. Sloan took my hits to the chest and face
without flinching.
“Why?” I screamed.
“I told him, so I can have a chance… a chance of you falling in love
with me.”
God, that man… and Sloan is all man, shed a tear.
“Which one; blue, green… oh, or the white?”
I blinked at the question being presented to me.
“Well, maybe not the white, but I was thinking along the lines of
symbolizing the first time,” she explains, cheerfully.
I frown. “But it wouldn’t be the first time. You were married to
Keagan. He’s fucked you.”
Aleya grinds her teeth. The fitters behind her act like they aren’t
listening.
“If I had known you were bringing your bitch face, I wouldn’t have
asked you to tag along.”
“Who else would indulge you in your disillusion, Aleya?” I smirk.
Letting the skimpy lingerie drop to her sides, “Sloan has revoked the
dick again, cus?” she mocks me. “Can you blame him? I mean, he can’t
trust you around my husband, and he prefers a hand job to your cunt. Seems
like you're batting 0 for 2,” she sass.
Getting to my feet, I snatch my purse up. “He left you?” I yell as I
turn to leave.
 “Her husband doesn’t trust her, sad situation, really. Anyway, add
these to those, and I’ll take everything. Yes, just bill my husband, Keagan
McCormac.”
This is the last thing I hear before I walk out of the store. Mum be
damned, that bitch has it coming.
 CHAPTER SEVEN
KEAGAN
I’m goddamn tired and annoyed. Between the cold weather and the
fucking brainless assholes I had to deal with today, I’m ready for a few
drinks. Yes, I still got a habit. Even more so, since the distance that has
formed between Monàe and I. At her place, you can say, um… I’m so
occupied with other activities, getting shit faced wasn’t on the list.
However, the anxiety of not knowing heads from tails has gotten me in a
funk that the whiskey was doing damn well with curing.
Now, tell me this, folks… if a cop, a mean-ass one like myself,
comes to your office telling you that a murder has been committed, would
you play coy with what you know? Or would you, on the downlow, be
spilling like a wounded goose all you know? It blows my mind how some
imbeciles clam up. What the fuck for?
“Listen, buddy… I saw it all.” “I heard so and so threaten to do Jim
Bob and his dog in.” Oh, yeah, they were fucking,” is how it would go, if
the cops came questioning me. I’m telling on you, your Mum, the fact that
you cheated on a third-grade math test. My ass will be giving up so much
info that the cops would be telling me to shut the hell up. Yet, these
assholes, with key information, want to make you beg and do a little dance
before they tell it all. Don’t they know they are a threat to the killer? Dumb
fucks.
Yet, the lawyer wanted to play that ethical card. What the hell for? I
never understood that bullshit. The person that was signing your checks is
dead. Who the hell are you being ethical to?
“I have a code to uphold, blah, blah, blah.”
Well, what about helping to catch the murderer of your dear client?
That was the merry-go-around we were on trying to find out the details of
Katara. It seems Fern wasn’t lying. She had gotten Fern in touch with a
lawyer; a dodgy Pitbull. Digging further, he was top notch at what he does.
I didn’t want to do it because I knew it would make Monàe wonder even
more about me, but I was left with no choice. When the attorney started
with that code and chapter dribble, I dumbfounded all in the room with my
knowledge of the law. I cited cases and repeated facts and codes of my own.
I impressed the man so much that he relented to our questions.
“As you can see, it is within your power of law to answer our
questions without actually confirming anything. It will help us, and it will
fall outside of breaching client privilege.”
The man fixed his glasses and smiled.
“Let’s say a lawyer attempted to overturn a trust similar to one of
your clients, could it be done?”
“With the right circumstances, yes,” he replied. “If the lawyer was
able to show that the people within the trust were qualified to gain control.
Oh, and the intent of those that created it,” the attorney answered.
“Intent?” pressed Monàe, catching on to the game.
“Yes… let’s say if it could be proven that addendums were drawn up
but were never executed due to… unforeseen events. Let’s also say that if it
was shown that the person in control of the trust was personally gaining off
of it… well, all of that proof could be enough… for the right judge to agree
with the termination of the trust.”
I added another question about myself on Monàe’s list, but in the
end, it had to be done.
“Time to go.”
Monàe leans back in her chair to give me a look. Saying nothing,
she saves her work, closes down the laptop, and packs up some paperwork
that I knew she wasn’t going to have time to go over tonight. Neither one of
us speak as we made our way through the building to the garage. The ride is
quiet, too, until I don’t turn right to head for the freeway.
“Making an errand?”
“No.”
She regards me quietly for a few miles. Maybe she’s waiting for me
to ask her to stay over, but I don’t see the need to. She knows what’s up.
This separation or whatever the fuck it is, is over. No, I know what it is,
actually. A lack of communication has bred fear and misconceptions. It has
set off a chain reaction. I was going to fix it.
Can I ask ya’ll a question? Ladies, why do you play that long game
of silence? Why do you cause the suffering of your man by folding your
arms, clamping your mouth shut, and saying nothing? Every other time we
men are wishing you would shut the fuck up when ya’ll are going on about
the chick you claim is a friend, but she’s really a bitch. Yet, when we want
you to come clean about what’s pissing you off, so we can fix the shit, you
act as if we should know what the fuck we did in the first place. Well,
thankfully, in this case, I had an earful with Monàe breaking it down to the
lowest degree this morning. Just keep that in mind, though. I’m learning,
but I’m determined to make this work.
Why the hell is my hand shaking? I hide my fear by resting my hand
on the gear shift. Yes, fear. Monàe is the only woman I’ve wanted to lose
myself in. Lucian actually thought I would be willing to give her up?
Laughable. I would take the heat from the sun for just another day with her.
I think I’ve compared what I feel for Monàe and Aleya, my ex-wife, a
million times. Of course, doing so as much as I’ve done has created the shit
hole I’m in. Yet, it made it clearer than blown glass how much I want her
and what lengths I’m willing to go to keep her.
I steal a glance. I marvel over the pain I’ve felt for so long after
being fucked over by Aleya. It amazes me all the pussy I’ve had since then
in my pursuit to fill the void. Did I swear off love? Hell yeah! Who wants to
open themselves up in search of being made complete in the arms of
another only to be fucked even more than they were to start. Yet, love found
a way of finding me. That’s the reason why I’m shaking. Because I know
that I’ve finally met my one and only… and I know that even if I’m able to
mend this rift, I know there’s the shadow of who I am still lingering in the
distance. That truth alone could create a crater so deep that I could lose
Monàe… forever.
It must be habit that navigated me down the streets and traffic,
through my private gate, and into my garage because I blink, and we’re at
my house.
“What is your objective?”
 I flinch mentally at the clinical terms Monàe uses to describe what
I’m trying to do.
“I’m trying to cross this mysterious distance between us,” I admit in
a hushed tone.
I don’t get out after she exits the car. My gaze follows her as she
walks in front of the vehicle and into the house. I drop my eyes to stare at
nothing. I know what she’s going to find in there. I know it’s a gamble to let
her see and to find out what’s been going on with me.

MONÀE
The smell is hard to ignore. I pick up the pace at the sound of
Keagan’s booted footsteps behind me. Yeah, I’m here to see what’s going to
happen, but I’m also snooping to find out what he’s been up to over the few
weeks I haven’t been here. I pass through the kitchen. In the hall, I take a
sniff of the air. The fact that the house is warm is no surprise to me. Which
room? I take too long. His long strides catch and pass me. He strolls by four
doors, going deeper into the large house to turn into the sitting room.
Craning my head as I walk after him, I glance into the open doors. It’s not
until I enter the sitting room, that I find the source of the scent.
Dumbfounded, I stand in the archway to survey the area. Only the
sight of Keagan snatching a bottle from the bar catches my attention to take
it off of the crap filling the room. Well, not all of it is crap, but my gut is
telling me I’m not going to like the reason behind how it all got here. He
opens and drinks from the bottle.
“I thought you tapered off,” I remark, stepping down the stairs to
enter the space.
“I, I’ve b, b, been stressed,” he mocks, sputtering to mimic the way
Herman spoke during our second round of questioning.
“You’re wrong for that,” I smirk.
He shrugs. He’s watching me as I examine the room.
“You investing in a flower shop?” I ask while I inhale from one of
the many vases filling the room, all pink roses.
 “No,” he declares, guarded.
“Am I here for you to play games?” I sigh, facing him. “You're
sleeping in here, too? Why? Is somebody staying with you?”
“The bed is too big… lonely,” he mumbles before taking another
gulp.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He tilts his head at me. “When I do sleep… it’s here,” he points at
the covers sprawled on the couch, “because I’m wanting you.”
“And the flowers are to cover up your musk?”
“The flowers are from, Aleya. They were our wedding flower.”
The confession sucker punches me in the gut. I have no clue what
my facial expression is saying at the moment.
“I’m sure that box in the corner was the newest delivery, too.”
Shit, I hadn’t even noticed the large, new addition on the cherry
wood table.
“She has a key?” I retort with attitude as I march over to the box.
“The cleaner… remember?” he replies.
“Oh, yeah,” I agree, taking it down a notch.
I take no care in ripping off the huge, red ribbon. Flipping the lid
off, I bite down to keep the first ten curse remarks from flowing from my
lips. My fists grip the fabric to hold the item up before my face.
“Nice,” smirks Keagan.
“Indeed,” I hiss.
Moving the colorful tissue paper around, I check out the other four
skanky pieces of lingerie included in the box. The bitch has good taste…
expensive, too. A little on the small size for the boobs and ass, but it would
definitely do the trick.
“For later. Ready. Wet. Willing. Wife, Aleya,” I read the card out
loud. “Is she your wife, Keagan?”
“I had a copy of the divorce declaration sent over. I’m free to play.”
 “Do you want to be… free?” I say.
“No, I don’t want to be free at all, Monàe.”
“So, you’re back to chasing my tail? For how long this time?”
Keagan turns away from me to sit the bottle down so slowly, it
makes no sound at all. He sucks on his bottom lip, still staring at the bottle.
“I made a mistake.”
I thank God he wasn’t looking in my direction. He didn’t see me
sway on my feet or the hurt expression on my face. Fuck! I can feel my
eyes misting up. Shit! SHIT! I’m gonna cry. What happened to the tough
shell I’ve created? Keagan. That’s what happened. He’s punched so many
holes that I’m exposed.
“Jesus,” he hisses.
I’m taken back at how fast he gets to me. How the fuck did… he
was just by the bar… now he’s towering over me. Nah, I’m seeing things.
Gotta be.
Forcing me to glare up into his downturned face, “I wasn’t talking
about you, Monàe. You… us is not a mistake,” he promises. He put’s space
between us while he tugs on his wooly beard. “This is hard,” he laments.
“What is?”
“This,” he wags a finger between us. “Talking to you.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Cause I don’t want to be hurt,” he snarls. His baby blue eyes
narrow.
“Keagan, it’s too late for that. You’ve been bleeding all over me
from a cut I never inflicted.”
His chiseled features soften due to the tiniest smirk on his lips.
“Old habits, you see. I’m sorry for-“
“I wanna know about your ex… and what you’ve been keeping from
me… like were you going to school to be a lawyer or something? I get that
your past work you can't tell me about, but what about you, the man?”
 KEAGAN
What she’s wanting is fair. She just didn’t know that there was no
secret past work, and what she was seeking, I could never completely share.
“I’m a strange person, Monàe. I have certain abilities that give me
an edge over the average Joe.”
What the fuck am I saying? Damn, she’s waiting for me to explain.
“If I read or hear something, my brain files it away… history,
languages, names, anything. I can flip through a magazine, speed read it,
and retain everything,” I explain. The fact that what I’m saying is true,
helps with the lie. It’s just the how that’s false.
“I can see why you’re sought after. With a knack like that, you can
be a dangerous enemy or a great ally. So, you never studied law?”
I shake my head. Monàe searches my face as if she’s trying to figure
out my truth.
“You never really talk about your family, why?”
I’m happy she shifted gears, but I didn’t expect it would be to turn
up the heat.
“I don’t trust my father. He’s too selfish and self-focused. He was
also abusive.”
“You’re mother?”
I frown. For a split second, I experience a fleeting longing to
actually have a truthful answer to Monàe’s question.
“I don’t know,” I admit at last. “There was a woman that I could
consider my mother since she did raise me... but my father chose her two
kids over me. When I was old enough to be shipped to school, he removed
me from the equation,” I reveal.
I better watch it. I might get too used to telling Monàe about myself.
I realize that. However, I also feel the cool breeze blowing on my soul after
ripping off a bandage that was designed to protect it.
“You’re ex?”
Without hesitation, I reach and prepare to remove yet another one.
“Love, Monàe,” I begin, slowly, “The need to experience it.”
“And did you?” she replies as she moves away from me to have a
seat.
Tossing the covers to the floor, she makes room for me. Taking a
slight detour to the bar, I pick up the bottle before joining her.
“I think… in a way, yeah. I mean, people do love in different ways,”
I point out.
“True, if you look at it in a clinical, logical way. Like, um… Bob
shows love by slapping Peggy,” she mocks. “True love doesn’t hurt.”
“So, you cussing me out this morning… that had nothing to do with
me hurting you… and me punching that motherfucker in the head had
nothing to do with love… or being hurt,” I remark.
“I never said I loved you, Keagan,” she says.
I ignore the way her response affects me.
“How did I hurt you?” she presses.
I tap my finger on my jean-clad leg. I feel like a sappy fool. I’ve
never had to do this shit with Aleya. All she required was fucking, making
sure she looked good, and money. She cackled enough for both of us.
“I felt…” I trail off as I try to put my feelings into words. “Maybe I
should lay back on the couch,” I joke, taking a big swallow for courage.
Why the hell is it taking so long to get a buzz?
“I met Aleya-“
“We can talk about that bitch, later,” sneers Monàe. “I’m waiting for
you to answer me.”
“I don’t want to dominate you… outside of the bedroom. I know
you’ve had a life before me. I know the rep you created for yourself, and I
know you’re working hard to change what those assholes think. Which is
why I’m going out of my way to remain professional when need be. I like
that shit about you. I’m trying to let you flex and grow… but-“
“It never crossed your mind, sorry to cut you off, but you never
thought that I’m over here wondering if you’re just playing games with me?
The only time we’re together is off the clock, behind closed doors. You’ve
never claimed me in public. Nah, I’m not talking about getting all up my
ass while at work, but there is a way to let people know I’m spoken for.
You’ve fucked your brand into my cervix, but how about where people can
see it? Yeah, I had a life before you, but you trying to stay at a distance to
prove to me you support me, will only make me think you aren’t completely
with me. I agree with you. I don’t want to be hurt either by feeling as if I’m
a dummy for falling for a man that isn’t into it.”
I open my mouth to interject.
“One sec,” she goes on. “I understand what you were thinking about
me at first. It was smart of you to make sure you wouldn’t turn into another
host I was going to latch onto achieved a goal, but I pay my bills. I put gas
in my car. I pull my weight at work. I’m standing on my own, and if you’re
still watching and waiting for me to hit you up, then we can’t be… because
I’m not gonna kiss your ass to prove myself to a person that can’t see that
I’ve changed.”
Although Monàe wasn’t raising her voice or talking with her hands
like this morning, her words still held the same amount of emotion as
before.
“I made you think I had lost interest?”
“Yes, and yes, that hurt me.”
“You want me to claim you… dominate you,” I add the last word in
a deep voice.
Monàe practically moans her reply, “Yes.”
“I can’t speak on what other women need, but to be honest,
Keagan… I need the ability, to, to… I don’t know, pull off my wig, lay
down my gun, and just be. I don’t want to be in charge. Don’t look at me
like that,” she groans, glancing away. “It’s stupid.”
 Shaking her by the arm, “Hey, hey.”
“Tell me about your Ex,” she demands.
I let it slide.
“I want to see what all the fuss was about. My dad had gone to the
ends of the Earth to keep the woman he loved,” I wasn’t lying about that
either. “I had been fuckin for years, so getting Aleya wasn’t too hard. Not to
brag, but after our first time, she was in love.”
“You fell in love conducting an experiment?” she inquires,
surprised.
“It’s no different than a woman determined to get a man because she
feels like it’s time to start a family, right?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” sighs Monàe. “So, what went wrong?”
“She fucked a guy she met while I was on a case. When she got
pregnant, she tried to sucker me into claiming it. The damn boy looks
nothing like me. Don’t know why she got knocked up that time. Come to
find out, she had been fuckin on me for a good minute.”
“She’s one crazy bitch. Who the hell was she cheating on you with?
I mean, never mind,” grumbles Monàe.
“What? Never mind, what?” I tease.
“I’m just saying… she had all of this,” she answers making a circle
over my body.
I chuckle. “As I said, everyone loves differently. She was missing
something. I understand that, now.”
“And I’m guessing what she thought she was missing, she doesn’t
want anymore?” scoffs Monàe.
Tilting my head, “Are you going to back down to give her a clear
chance?”
“I’ll fight for what’s mine, Keagan… only if it’s mine,” she stresses.
“Then, we’re both fighters.”
“Yes, you proved that this morning,” she drawls.
 “The fucker’s happy he was knocked out, if he had gotten up, I
would have killed him.”
Monàe hides her brown eyes from me. Didn’t matter, though. I
breathe deep to catch her scent.
“That turns me on,” she smiles.
Tilting my head, I give her a wicked grin. “Shower up, so I can
dominate you,” I order.
“Keagan, I’m hungry,” she whispers.
I don’t know if she meant food or not. Leaning over, I spread her
legs to cup her pussy. “I’m going to feed you. I promise to fill your belly,” I
groan.
I pray to the Man Above that I never stop feeling the way I do at the
touch of Monàe’s lips on mine. Heart racing, balls clenching, hair standing
up due to the electricity she creates within me. I open my mouth, letting her
take what she wants while I enjoy the way her tongue strokes and teases
me.
Shoving her off her perch, “Go get that pussy clean for me,” I pant.
Thankfully, my cell ringing convinces me not to follow in her
footsteps.
 CHAPTER EIGHT
“Hello.”
There’s a pause on the other line. Knowing the person, I understand
why.
“Hello? Excuse me? I expect the customary, fuck-off, leave me
alone, and why are you calling me?”
“Don’t forget the customary dial tone.”
“Shit, I can feel your grin way over here,” jokes Sloan. “Nice on the
inside, ain’t it?”
“Don’t know. I’m wasting time on you,” I tease.
“True,” getting to the point. “I found the car used in the murder.”
“Really? How?”
I place the bottle of whiskey with the others on the bar. I no longer
needed it.
“I questioned the neighbor. From a picture of the car, I could see that
the paint color was the same as what was found on the body. The man never
locked the doors. He said everyone is too rich to steal in that area.”
Getting up, I walk into the kitchen. With the call on speaker, I
unwrap and put in the oven the roast the maid prepped for my dinner. I
comment here and there.
“These killers are dumb. It’s obvious it wasn’t planned. I would
have dropped the car somewhere across the tracks. A chop shop would have
taken care of the rest,” I mention.
“You got to give them credit for torching it, though. I doubt whoever
hotwired the car used gloves since killing Katara wasn’t thought out. There
are no cameras on the road, either. Anyway, we’ll process the car, but other
than confirming it’s the murder weapon, don’t hold your breath.”
Sloan continues talking. I have nothing left to say. My mind has
switched off. The only thing I can concentrate on is the brown body that’s
dripping wet and stepping out of the steaming shower. Monàe has no
shame, letting me get an eye full of her lush form. Neither do I as I
unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants to let my engorged cock breathe. I
wait for her reaction when she goes over to the sink that she usually uses. I
smile at the perplexed expression. Slowly, she pulls open a drawer and
stares in a daze. She steals a glance my way. I smile.
See, I watch. I listen. Even when you think I’m not, I’m constantly
engaged with my surroundings. Over the weeks we’ve been apart, I’ve
occupied my time stocking up on the personal items she likes. I duplicated
everything from the toothpaste, facial scrub, perfumes, and silk head
bonnet, to the lavender scented Shea Butter she’s rubbing onto her skin.
“I’ll let you go. You ain’t listening to me anyway,” grumbles Sloan.
“Thank you,” I mumble back, ending the conversation.
I’m in a trance. I want to go over, hold her against the wall, and fuck
her. Then again, I want to drag it out and just watch her for a while. Monàe
doesn’t miss a spot. Lifting up her leg, she smooths a bit between her
thighs. She’s taking her time, and I don’t mind. I linger in the doorway. I
know if I cross the threshold, it’s all she wrote. I marvel over the way her
nipples perk and harden. I revel in just knowing that all it takes is a look
from me to get her petals wet.
“Your turn,” she smirks inviting me in.
“Is that glued down tight?” I tease, eyeing her hair.
“Shut up and take your bath,” she chuckles.
This is more like it. I can already feel things returning to the former
way they were. Getting in the shower, I take care not to wet my long hair.
No one wants to have shower water dripping all over them. The only thing I
want wetting the sheets is pussy and sweat. I don’t even bother dressing.
I’m always naked when were home. I know she’s a visual person. The
tattoos and the sight of me strolling around seems to excite her.
Coming to the room, I go still. I can’t move even if I wanted to. All
I can do is gawk as the vision of Monàe arching her back in the middle of
the bed causes a rush of blood to the tip of my cock. The fabric of the teddy
is straining to contain her curves. I smile, knowing it was one of the pieces
from the box Aleya had delivered. That fact for some reason makes me
horny as fuck, and from the way Monàe was rubbing her pussy on the
mattress, I think it turns her on, too.
“Ask me to fuck you,” I command.
For the life of me, I don’t know why I need to hear her beg. Shit, I
can clearly see she wants me to…Sweet Jesus, Monàe maneuvers on the
bed to lay back to open her legs, wide. If I wondered if she wanted me, the
sight of the white cream smeared on her pussy lips confirms it. My eyes
narrow as she skims the tip of her finger down her slit, massaging it and
spreading the juices from her pussy as if it was lotion.
Walking towards the bed, I pick up my cell. Pushing the button on
the side, I open the camera app.
“Ask me to fuck you,” I command again.
This time, she obeys.
“Fuck me, Keagan.”
At the right time, at the right angle, in the right pose, I snap the pic.
The towel drops to the floor in a hush. I close my eyes when my fingers
enter her body. My mouth latches on to her clit to add to her pleasure. I feel
the weight of her hands on the back of my head. My face buried deep, I
move in the motions of her swirling hips. I take my time eating her out,
licking her dry each time she explodes in my greedy mouth. I’m here to re-
stake my claim, to remind Monàe how it feels to be loved by me. It doesn’t
matter that she didn’t say she loved me. After tonight, I was going to have a
place in her heart, no matter how small it might be.
“Let me get drunk on your cum, Sweetheart,” I coo as I come up for
air.
Tracing her wet hairless lips, I cause her to writhe and cry out. I
make one more lap around the pool before I’m ready. At least, that’s what I
thought. I missed Monàe’s breasts. I missed suckin on her large, dark
nipples. Opening my mouth wide, I take one into my mouth to suckle, hard,
which causes her to arch off the bed. Flicking my tongue, biting and
sucking the other nipple, I finger fuck her.
 When I finally come up to bat, I pause long enough to get into
position before I thrust forward. Like hot cream, her pussy melts around
me, coating me, damn near drowning me. I watch her. I don’t want to miss a
moan, a biting of her lips, or a flutter of her lids. Deep stroking her to a
slow tempo, I watch as her eyes roll back into her head. I smile cause I
know that I’m starting slow, to ensure that after our break from fucking, her
body is reacquainted with the size of my dick. However, by the way it’s
gushing and trembling, I know it’s ready for a good workout.
“K, Keagan, hell,” she protests over the way I have her legs wide
and stretched apart.
I swear I grazed her rib by the way I thrust deep into her womb. My
muscles ripple under my skin as I balance my weight. The headboard seems
like its cracking due to the way it’s knocking against the wall. None of that
matters. My main focus is making Monàe scream my name as she’s doing
now. All that matters is feeling her from the inside, and being showered in
her nectar.
“You feel so good, ugh, Monàe…I need it. That’s it…you can take
it, see, I knew you can.”
Once again, the walls of her pussy gushes to make my exit and entry
easier to bare. The tightness of her body is driving me crazy. Pausing, I stop
to rotate my hips. Leaning in, the muscles in my lower back strain.
“First, I’m going to fuck you….then, I’ll slow it down. Shhh,
Sweetheart,” I hush her up.
I pull her into a deep kiss to assault her, pushing Monàe ever further
as my cock begins to move within her. I never thought I could be as
engorged as I am right now.
A man of my word, we fuck, long, nasty, and hard. Every time,
Monàe begs for mercy, I bring her back to life with a kiss, or a roll of my
hips, a finger in her ass, or a dirty word whispered in her ear as proof that
she has more to give. I didn’t think it was capable for Monàe to go dry, but
when I realize we’ve been at it for over two hours, it makes sense.
Pulling out, I lean back to spit into her pussy to dive back in.
“Keagan,” she cries.
 “Last time, I swear,” I promise into her parted lips.
Monàe looks at if she’s been battling a tornado. Her eyes are heavy
with fatigue, but as I shift my hips, they fill with something else; lust.
Licking her lips, she holds on to my shoulders.
“K, shit, right there….I’m gonna, yes, I’m gonna…FUCK!”
I groan as a secretion of liquid shoots from her body to wet us and
the bed. Overtaken by uncontrollable tremors, Monàe’s pussy clamps down
causing me to experience the strongest, mind blowing orgasm I’ve ever
experienced. Pulling back, I tumble onto the bed. I can’t even catch the cum
in the palm of my hand. Instead, it’s added to the other bodily fluids on the
sheets.
Shaken by the experience, I don’t press Monàe for more. Nor did
she complain about not having round two. In fact, the only thing she wants
from me is water and sleep. Picking her up, I carry her into one of the spare
bedrooms to sleep. After shutting off the oven, the roast is burnt by the way,
I nestle in next to her. In the darkness, I let my body relax. Why does this
time feel different? What is this fierce need to consume Monàe coming
from?
My lips caress her neck, and I growl. Taken back, I quickly sit up in
the bed, afraid of what I had just considered doing. Rolling over, I stare into
the darkness. I’m stressed, I tell myself. With work, Monàe, and Aleya…
suddenly, I smile. Reaching for my phone, I pull up the picture of Monàe
legs spread and in heat. Tapping on the keyboard, I write and send the text.
Thank You, is all I type before pressing send. I couldn’t go to sleep
without sending my gratitude to my ex. I can’t want for Monàe’s to try out
the others.

MONÀE
My thighs and back are on fire, but the smile on my face says
otherwise. Never, never, ever, ever, never have I had a love like this. I was
never one to trap a man with a baby. Keagan’s got my ass scheming,
though. That’s how great and stupendous the sexin’ he’s put on me. Keagan
fed me the dick, alright. I didn’t need any food. His shot of Vitamin D was
enough to have my ass jumping hurdles and sprinting this morning.
I’m definitely branded, and not just under my clothes, either. Get
this… so, we’re walking in the office, like always. Keagan opens the door
to let me go first… nothing new there. BUT as I stroll past, his hand lands
on my ass to give it a squeeze.
When we were in the packed elevator, he did this: Keagan stands
close, too close to be seen as professional. I can see others looking,
wondering what that was all about. Then, he bends his head while placing
his hand on my lower back to whisper in my ear. All he did was ask about
the case. Even still, a bitch was grinning because I knew what he was doing.
Once again, when the doors opened, he stepped aside for me saying,
“Monàe.” Yeah, that’s my name, but the way he said it put more meaning
into it.
By the time we entered our special unit, it was back to professional
Keagan. That’s fine. Actually, that’s the way it should be once our feet hit
the floor. What was done outside the office, while in the building, was more
than enough to stake his claim… and I’m claimed, believe me. Stock, deed,
and title are all stamped, KEAGAN… in red, double bold ink.
Try as I might, I can’t stop sneaking peeks of him over my laptop. I
wonder if he realizes that he scrunches up his forehead whenever he’s in
thought? I don’t know how many pens he’s chewed up. I was never one for
long hair on men, but on Keagan, the look is sexy. Perfect. His muscular,
tanned body with colorful tats covering his skin from his neck to his ankles,
haunts my wettest dreams.
“I’m up for doing you in the car if you want.”
I blink. Did he just say that? Glancing at the file then back up at his
computer while his inked covered fingers types, he seems lost in his work. I
shake it off, determined to do the same.
“Monàe,” I speak into the office phone on my desk. “Really?” I say,
snapping my fingers at Keagan.
What? He mouths.
“Was it a break in? Or was the person there to harm him?” I ask.
 Who? He presses.
Tossing a Post It pad on my side of the desk, he points at it. I
scribble the answer. Keagan’s brows arch in interest.
“Thank You,” I remark.
Keagan is already handing me my coat.

Dopey Elf
“I could have been killed. Why? Erika, Katara… now, me... I don’t
get it. Why hurt them or me?”
Keagan and I stand at the foot of the hospital bed. A uniformed cop
has been placed at the door just in case the culprit comes back for round
two.
“Did you know that Katara was fighting for the trust to be
dissolved?” I question.
Noelle touches the compression wraps around his head.
“Listen, I knew she was up to something. The way she was sneaking
about, whispering and shit. I learned a long time ago, when dealing with my
sisters, not to get in too deep.”
“The less you know, the better. kinda approach,” adds Keagan.
“Right,” Noelle nods, then groans. “Anyway, no… I didn’t know the
extent of what was going on. Not till I got a call from an attorney asking if I
wanted to continue with the case.”
“And?” I wonder.
“Whatcha think? If there’s a way I can be free, yes,” replies Noelle.
“Walk us through what happened. We read your statement, but I
want to hear it from you,” explains Keagan.
Noelle shifts further up the hospital bed. “It was dark. I walked into
the house, and I heard some noise. I called out. Nothing. So, I inched my
way in, found a bat, and started to search the place. I heard another sound.”
“Where?” inquires Keagan.
“Um… my sister’s room. The door was cracked.”
“But you didn’t see anyone?” I press.
Noelle swallows hard. “No. It was too dark. I, I inched to the door.
When I pushed it open, the person charged me. All I got was a dark shadow
slamming into me, knocking me into the wall,” he finishes.
“So, the person was looking in your sister’s room. Any idea what
they were looking for?” I inquire.
“No fucking clue. You guys were already there yesterday,” Noelle
points out.
Keagan’s been silent, just listening till now. “The person was
searching for something. You just got in the way. We’ll go back to see what
was so important.”

Katara’s Room
Keagan was dead-on in his guess. The state of the ransacked room
was proof that the person was looking for something alright. Nothing was in
its place. Clothes were everywhere. The mattress had been overturned and
gutted. Lamps were smashed, pictures that were hung neatly on the off-
white walls when we processed this room yesterday, were on the ground,
crushed. All the drawers from the dresser and nightstands were scattered
throughout the room.
“The person was thorough.”
I glance in the direction Keagan nodded to notice the soot from the
fireplace. The thief made sure to search there, too, in hopes of getting lucky.
“What do you think was the motive here?”
I pause in my survey of the mess around us to answer Keagan.
“Well, the jewelry was taken, but I don’t think that’s what the person
was after.”
“On what grounds?”
 “Look around,” I command. “It makes no sense to trash the place
when the jewelry box was on the desk. Then, the thief took the stuff inside
and not the box. The box is sterling silver. Who would have missed a prize
like that? Nah, all this is just extra to throw us off what they were really
here for,” she huffs.
He nods in agreement. “But what the fuck was it?” he mumbles
while stepping over items on the floor. “Did we ever get anything back
from the cell company?”
“I was going over the report when we got the call about Noelle. The
agent said the cell’s Sim card must have been destroyed cause it’s not
pinging any towers. Now, the text records were interesting,” I report while
we stroll past a few cops and out of the house. “She was sexting to a pre-
paid, non-traceable cell. Then, a few days ago, she texted a different
number. It’s not word for word, but it was something like… I got what you
were looking for, and she said… yes, just in time.”
Keagan shrugs his massive shoulders. “She could’ve been getting
moist over finding a new pair of shoes.”
“I doubt a buyer would be calling from a burner cell,” I smirk.
When we hit the back lawn on our way to the car, I can’t stop the
awe that comes over me at how breathtaking the area looked. If you have
money, you can make anything happen. It’s true in this case, too. When we
were here yesterday, the grass was a jumbled mess of people walking,
pointing, and shouting. Today, there were still people working to get shit
done, but I have a clear picture of what they were aiming for. Two tall, long,
rectangular tents on the side connected to a huge, red tent that made me
think of a Big Top at a circus. Bordering the pulled back opening to the
main tent was an enormous archway of dyed green roses. You might think it
would look tacky, but staring at it, the Christmas colors looked perfect
within the layers of the snow still covering the ground.
“All that for nothing.”
I glance up, “I know… on a marriage that won’t last.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Before I could ask Keagan to
explain. “That text,” he starts up. “I got an idea who it could be.”
 Stealing another quick glimpse of the area below, I jog to catch up
with his long strides.
“I betcha a BJ it’s tied to the ten grand she paid in cash.”
“A blow job?” I chuckle.
“How long was I eating you last night? Then, I get a five-minute
polishing,” he scoffs, raising his eyebrow.
“Hey, you said you get into it cause you like doing it. It’s not my
fault I’m down for a few minutes and your knees start shaking and shit.”
“Next time, I’m just gonna bust a nut in that smart ass mouth of
yours and get it all over your lips.
Jesus, I love it when his Irish accent turns heavy with lust. I let my
jaw drop, opening my mouth wide to receive the imaginary money shot.
The pose causes him to stumble.
“If you don’t want me to swallow, I can gargle and make it rain all
down your coc-“
I was just teasing, but like always, Keagan throws me off. In the
blink of an eye, my back is plastered against a tree. First, his body. Then,
his lips crash into me.
“I want you,” he whispers into my mouth. If I’m clueless of what he
meant, he picks me up by my thighs and pulls my legs apart to make room
to grind his hard dick into my throbbing center. “If you wore a skirt, I could
push the panties aside and slide in.”
“Who says I would be wearing panties?”
“Let me fuck you in the car!”
“Keagan, stop playing,” I chuckle, pushing at his chest. I might be
acting as if I don’t want it, but I’m full of shit. “Put me down before we’re
caught,” I demand while I start to struggle.
“That’s it, pop it,” he teases.
“Keagan,” I cry.
“Yeah, Baby… say my name,” he jokes as he lowers one of my legs
to the ground while jacking the other higher. The speed of his hips pick up
in his act of dry humping me into the hard bark of the tree.
“Stop! You’re hurting my back,” I laugh.
“That’s what you said last night.”
With force, I punch his shoulder. His hips freeze. A wicked smile
curls on his sensual lips. Slowly, he lowers my leg.
“We got work to do.”
“You’re right,” he replies, stepping out of the way.

KEAGAN
Pussy, pussy, pussy. Is all I hear coming out of Monàe’s mouth. I
mean, I know she’s saying words. They might be important, too… but all
I’m thinking about is feeling the back of her throat and the heat and the
gush of pushing slowly into her pink cunt. Glancing ahead, I look at my
parked car. I mentally measure the amount of space in my back seat. I’m a
big man, and Monàe ain’t big, but she ain’t tiny either. I know I could get
up in it by pressing and curling back her legs. I mean, tear down her walls
in that back seat, but not without a lot of rocking going on. That wouldn’t
be good with so many cops and other people walking past the vehicle.
“You gonna explain the ten grand?”
No, I want to get lost in your body, but if I must, the voice in my
head complains. I sigh. “This,” I announce, pulling out a piece of paper
sealed in an evidence bag. “A receipt which coincides to a withdrawal from
her private account.”
“Trevor,” she squints to read the smudged ink. “Dunes? Nunes?”
“Dunes, Trevor Dunes,” I correct her.
I crank up the car, shift it into reverse, and take off.
“Oh shit.”
“What?” I look over at her to find her reading on our police tablet.
 “A call was made at his address this morning. It’s coded a
homicide.”
“Shit,” I hiss.

Do You See What I See… Trevor’s place

We flash our badges.
“Where’s the lead?”
“Inside. It’s Detective Ortega,” one of the uniforms taking
statements answers.
“Ortega?” I shout in the hustle of the apartment.
Monàe and I survey the place while we look for the lead on the case.
We have no desire to step on anyone’s feet. We have our own case to work.
“Looking for me?”
We may be looking for him, but he’s sweating Monàe. Professional
or not, I step closer to her.
“Something up with your vision?”
“No,” he snaps out of his trance, shooting her a grin. “I just thought
I’ve seen you before.”
He won’t be able to see shit after I knock the fucker in the eye.
Instead, I choose to ignore him. “Is Trevor Dunes the deceased?”
“Yes. Helluva mess,” he states, motioning for us to follow him. “He
put up one helluva fight, though. He bled out like a fucking pig.”
It was everywhere. Even with the Visqueen on the carpet, blood got
on the walls, the floor, and there were splatter patterns on the ceiling. It was
obvious that it was a hit that went wrong. Trevor must have found a way to
get loose. He fought, but the deep gash that damn near took his head from
his body, did him in.
“How can I help, you?”
Monàe opens her mouth to speak, but I do so.
 “A lead we’re following brought us here. We were hoping to find
out what the connection was.”
“No doubt it’s his work. The man’s a P.I.,” Ortega informs us.
“She hired him to dig up dirt,” whispers Monàe.
It pisses me off having her talk with the stubby, greasy headed
douche with the eyes like a mouse, but I reframe from shutting her up. I
would never do anything to make her look bad.
“I’m willing to help you in any way,” he smiles, licking his lips.
“The only help we’re seeking is info. Any files, pictures?” Monàe
rattles off.
The asshole doesn’t like being put off, and I would love for him to
push it. Instead, he gives Monàe an ugly beady-eyed glare.
“Wilcox is processing all of that,” he points.
Following after him, “It’s the digital age, so not too much paper…
save a tree and all that new age crap,” he scoffs. “There’s a laptop, but
we’re still processing it,” he shrugs.
“Wilcox?” Monàe approaches the young, black detective. “Detective
Reeves, Special Unit,” she announces.
“Special Unit?” repeats Ortega, confused. “I thought you were
regular blues.”
“Can we take a look?” remarks Monàe.
“The laptop has a high encryption code,” warns Wilcox.
“If you let us peek first, I can get it open. We’ll hand deliver it back
to you, of course,” she adds with a smile.
“Do we have a choice,” complains Ortega. He’s really hating Monàe
now.
“I might not have a dick, but in this case, I’ll piss much further than
you… Detective,” she puts just the right amount of sarcasm on his title to
turn a few heads in the room.
Ortega does his best to straighten to his full height before he nods
his head. Dumb fuck.
 Monàe falls into a fit of laughter once we’re outside of the run-down
apartment. Why the hell is a P.I. who’s making more than forty grand a
month, living in such a cesspool. The man should have sprung for nicer digs
and burned a little more money before his short-lived life came to an end.
“You were jealous,” she coos, elbowing me in the side. “And over
that ugly-ass man,” she tsks.
“I trust no one. That goes for him, too,” I tease by thumbing to a
homeless man across the road.
Reaching the car parked on the side of the street, I frowned when
she opens the back door instead of the passenger front.
“Lunch break,” is all she says before getting in.
I bite my bottom lip and glance down the street both ways before
getting in the back with her.
“You packed a lunch?”
“I’m your mid-day snack,” she whispers.
I know what she’s asking. I’m going to give it to her… right here on
the busy street. The thought of fucking in the open makes my dick extend
and throb long before she actually touches it.
“Ummm,” I groan.
Breathing becomes a laborious task at the sight of her unfastening
my belt and pants. My large hand covers her to force her to look at me.
“You can’t be loud,” I warn her.
“I’ll do better if I have something in my mouth,” she whispers.
“Lord,” I hiss at the first flick of her tongue.
I won the bet, after all. Sinking back, the leather creeks under my
weight. I want to fuck her throat one second, then I’m trying to run away.
The sensation as she takes me in, slowly… making sure to rain just the right
amount of spit to drench my rod to give her hand twisting enough
lubrication to do the job, boggles my mind. Tilting my head, I move her
hair out of the way. I don’t know why, though. I can’t bear to keep my eyes
open. They roll back into my head as I growl with pleasure. Monàe is really
showing out. Like a pro, she bobs her head. The sucking sounds of her jaws
send a shiver down my spine.
“Slow down,” I grunt. Forcing her to obey, I tug on her hair. With a
firm grip, I fuck her mouth at my own leisurely pace. “Amazing… ummm,”
I cry, tossing my head back on the seat. Suddenly, my entire body recoils
forward at the feel of her gagging.
Jerking her head up, I grip my dick tight to stop the flow of cum
from exploding from the tip. I’m not ready for all that. Panting, I count
down from 10 to 3 in hopes of gaining control of my body. For a moment, I
feel as if I’m floating. I heard sex could do that but never had I experienced
it till last night and today. A deep frown creases my brow as I try to put a
name on or at least figure what was happening to me. Even with the rush
and noise of the world outside, it was like I was in a tunnel.
“You ok?”
Blinking, a coolness… an oddness pushes into me.
Bind her
It’s such a faint whisper, but I know I’m not crazy. I heard it. A
need, a desire that I can only describe as hunger overtakes me. I wonder if
Monàe feels it, too, because her kiss is just as needy and hot as mine. Her
hands are just as wild as mine as we fight to free one of her legs from her
stretch jeans. I don’t have time to take off her panties. My dick is gonna
chaff from the rubbing, but I’m willing to take one for the team. Pushing
them to the side, Monàe hovers for a second to let me wet the tip of my
dick. Then, I’m penetrating her tight cunt.
“Slow, Baby… that’s it. Let me stretch your pussy, slowly.”
That might be what my mind was speaking out my mouth, but my
body wanted something else. I’m here. Lord knows I’m feeling the heat, the
wetness of Monàe’s walls massaging my cock, causing it to grow inside her.
Slamming her down as I thrust upward, we both cover our moans with a
passionate kiss. Up and down… in and out, a tingle that I’ve never felt
travels up my spine to the base of my brain. Sparks of light dance behind
my eyelids.
Let go.
 Not a whisper, but a roar echoes in my cranium, scaring the shit out
of me. That might be the case, but the way that Monàe is riding, it seems to
take the number one priority at the moment. Rotating my hips, I carve out a
few more inches. A gush of juice drenches my dick and adds another layer
of moisture to where we’re joined. I have to remind myself that we’re
parked on the street. The car can’t rock… well, at least not too much.
Lifting her in the air, I balance my weight and fuck her double time.
The slapping noise of beating her box mixes with the queefing sounds of
her pussy. I long stroke her a few times. The muscles in my arms flex every
time I raise her up by holding her under her thighs. I’m on a high like no
other. I hiding my eyes behind hooded lids. The bones in my back shift.
Scared, I lean up, pressing Monàe to my body. She is completely lost in the
act. She was clueless of the fact that I’m losing it.
Fuck! I’m not in control. This ain’t sex. I don’t know what the fuck
this is, but it’s freaking amazing. It’s primal. It’s raw like mating. Under my
fingertips, I can feel the flow and the rush of Monàe’s blood in her veins.
I’m so deep in her womb, I swear I can actually feel the pain and the
ecstasy she’s experiencing. Opening my eyes, I steal a glance ahead at the
street. Scanning ahead, people are walking and talking as if they don’t even
notice us going at it in the car. That’s when I see it. My heart lurches.
My eyes. I HAVE NO EYES. I got them. I mean I’m looking out. I
can see stuff and shit, but they aren’t normal. Instead of them being my
usual baby blues, they are all black. It’s too much. The fear of whatever is
going on, trying to not give in to the urge to ‘let go’ and the odd,
unexplainable sensation building in my body is all too much to handle.
“So good, ugh, fuck Keagan,” cries Monàe as she pulls at my bun.
So much for a low key fuck on the side of the road. Maneuvering
her to the side, I do exactly what I had daydreamed about… and I was right.
I curled her ass up, sliding my arm under her thighs, her knees touching her
shoulders, and I went to town. I made sure not to look her in the face.
“Oh, Monàe.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I clamp my
mouth shut.
 That’s not my voice. It didn’t even sound human. Once again, I felt
a cracking of bones in my back. I know I should pump the breaks, but all I
could manage to do is pump her pussy instead. With each punishing stroke,
I felt as if I was getting closer. I’m chasing something, but it wasn’t just a
nut. I wanted to know what was happening? What was this feeling?
Pull back! A voice pleads.
There was no way I was stopping. I don’t know if I would ever
experience anything like this ever again. Never with any of the other
women. Never with Aleya. Nothing had ever compared to what I was
feeling now between Monàe’s brown legs.
Shifting slightly, I found her spot. Tapping it, I make sure to rub my
pubic bone against her clit with each stroke.
“Ke, Ke, K, K, oh shit,” she rambles on, mindlessly. “Keagan…
stop!”
Her scream barely registers. It wasn’t till the copper taste rushes
over my tongue do I realize it. The shock of what I’ve done… of what I’m
doing only lasts for a mere second before it is replaced with a lust and
ecstasy, I can’t put into words. Nor does Monàe’s anger due to the way I’m
stabbing her pussy. She was no longer trying to push me off. Now, she’s
tearing into my back, begging me to keep going.
Rising my head, I lick my lips of the blood from the bite on her
shoulder. The holes bead up with two drops of blood that I don’t hesitate to
lick away. Once again, a new surge flows through my body causing my
balls to contract and my dick to jerk within her. Head down, I’m reaching.
My mind, body, and soul can sense it pushing further, fucking harder, and
letting go, I get lost in the pleasure and this feeling of Monàe and an
unknown thing. It’s standing on the fringes, watching and waiting. My
loveable Devil pulls out a chair for the figure lingering to take a seat. From
their table to two, they sneer, waiting.
Asmodeus
“Yes,” I yell.
Yes, to what? I answered without thought to a voice I’ve never heard
before. Yet, it sounded so familiar. Like a bullet piercing my brain, a face
appears, then it’s gone.
“Fuck!” I exclaim.
My forehead hits the side of the back seat with a thud. I groan and
shake as my hot, thick cum mixes with the honey juices within Monàe’s
pussy. Her tight cunt shivers, contracts as if it’s gulping up every drop of
my seed. Neither one of us move. All we can do is breathe. Slowly, I
remove my arm from under her thighs, lowering them back down from
what had to be a painful angle.
Pulling out finally, Monàe hisses.
“Jesus, are you ok?” I ask, removing my weight from her pent body.
She touches her fingertips to the bruising on her shoulder before
leaning up on her elbow to glance between her legs. We say nothing as we
glimpse at a small tell-tale sign of what I’ve done.
“I’m ok,” she grumbles while she covers her exposed pussy and
rights her clothes. The hearty aroma of my musky cum and our sex mingle
to create a scent of its own.
“I didn’t mean to hurt-“
“It’s not your fault,” she insists before getting out of the car.
“Ugh,” I growl.
With a startle, I check the rearview mirror. Pushing my wild hair out
of my face, not blacked out, but baby blues eyes.
“Asmodeus,” I repeat, perplexed.
Shaking myself, I get dressed. I fucked up. Nobody has to tell me,
I’ve crossed a line in more ways than one.
 CHAPTER EIGHT
“Any luck?” questions Rees.
He wishes he could stop the shaking of his leg. His Mom always
hated that habit. Whenever she saw him doing it, she would flick him in the
head to make him stop. No amount of that or one of her stinging pinches
was going to stop the nervous reaction today. He scans the occupied club
house for a sight of her. Taking a puff of the vape, he frowns. Whoever
thought these things could take the place of an old fashion cancer stick was
a fuckin fool.
He knew his friend wasn’t going to answer him. The man had been
playing master to Rees’s parrot impersonation of repeating the same damn
question.
“She’s here,” his friend back hands Rees in the chest to get his
attention.
Was he really this much of a coward, he wondered as he noticed the
shaking of his hands? Yes! Yes, he was. He should have known after seeing
her on the goddamn murder train that it wasn’t going to be the last of the
bitch.
“Gentlemen.”
“Tashia,” hisses Deon.
“What? No love? Well, fuck you, too,” she smiles sitting down.
“Rees.”
“Tashia,” he frowns, giving her a stiff nod.
Taking a moment to glance around, “Nice golf club you have here.
Do you play or is it more drinks at the bar?”
“We’re not here to chat. What do you want?” insists Deon.
“My, my… always rushing to the finish. You never learned the art of
foreplay, have you?” she smirks.
Given the opportunity, Rees examined the woman that had a knack
of moving through the world like a ghost. Always a beautiful woman, time
had only aided to her attraction. No longer the chubby young girl he met
while visiting the exclusive brothel on Ginger Island, Tashia’s structure was
lean and fit. Back then, she had men lining up to fuck the whore that could
swallow a 10-inch sausage without blinking an eye. He could never bring
himself to sexing her or any other female at the whorehouse under twenty-
one. He did talk to her, though. Tashia always had a way with words. She
could use them to skin you alive or make your cock drip with pre-cum.
Last, he had heard, a rich man with deep pockets paid out the nose
to take her off the island for a ‘private’ display of her talents. She never
came back. After she fucked him into a coma, she disappeared. Rees felt
that the man lied. Yeah, Tashia would have had his stolen money, but the
girl had been raised on the brothel island. With no connections, how was
she able to vanish. No, the man helped her. Tilting his head, he searched his
brain for a woman he could compare her to in looks. He smirked when the
name, Jada Pickett- Smith sprung to mind. Yes, she even possessed that
same confidence and flare as the known actress. He even banged one out to
the face of the actress, while Tashia made his balls retreat into his ass.
Tashia 2.0 was a creepy ass bitch. It was no surprise that she had
stepped in with Fran focused on being a mother. She and Fran, both coming
from the same den of sin. Now, that event was craziest thing he had heard
in a long while. Fran had to be in her sixties. It didn’t matter that she still
looked to be in her forties. Then again, with these people and their ways of
seeming to pull off the impossible, he shouldn’t be too shocked.
Keagan was cut from the same cloth. Taking him on years ago was
an order that was given. He had wondered why people like them would take
such an interest in what seemed to be a normal young man? Keagan was
light hearted, laughed, focused, loyal to a fault. He was a damn good cop.
So much so, that he excelled and rose up the ranks. Shit, Keagan was Rees’s
golden goose. Fuck yeah, he took the boy under his wing with Sloan in tow.
The two men became stars in law enforcement with Rees at the helm.
It was later that Rees noticed the way Keagan operated. He slowed
down to see the way Sloan never left Keagan’s side, the way Sloan would
jack Keagan up as if he was the boy’s handler and Keagan was a wild
animal on an invisible leash. Then when the bottom fell out with Keagan’s
cheating bitch of a wife, Aleya, causing him to go off the rails, Rees was on
damage and clean up patrol. Even still, when he got the call that Keagan
was back, he was salivating at the mouth to bring him on. Just like old
times, he had thought. He was counting up the stars and stripes, hell he
might even get into politics due to the excellent record that was coming his
way.
Now, choosing Monàe to be Keagan’s partner. Did Rees consider
the two would start fucking? Of course, he did. How better to keep his
golden boy in his pocket? He couldn’t have Keagan being cherry picked.
He had to guarantee his loyalty to him…and grade A pussy was the best
way. It wasn’t as if the girl valued her piece of ass. Shit, raising her leg for
that punk, Justin, for a higher rank was proof of that. So, why not get a little
off of her back?
“I don’t have all day,” huffs Deon.
“You have as long as I say you have.”
Tashia smiles as she spoke, but Rees and Deon knew it was only to
keep up appearances.
Shifting in her chair, “I wanted to know if all is ready?”
Deon steals a glance at Rees.
“I never agreed to this,” he points out.
“Actually, you agreed to every and anything when you decided to
dip your toe in my world,” she corrects him.
“You had nothing to do with it. We paid our dues to Fran. What the
fuck you got to do with anything?”
Tashia pouts out her lip, pretending to act deflated. “Everybody
seems to like her better than me. Why? Aren’t I pretty? I can be nice,” she
promises. Suddenly, she shrugs. “Whatever. I didn’t come to play. I come to
slay, bitches. And all yous,” she points at them, “are going to fall in line…
or I’ll make you.”
“I can’t do what you’re asking,” Deon says in a rush. “Everything
I’ve done-“
“All you’re doing is making an introduction,” she interjects as if
what she was asking was a cake walk. Well, maybe to some, but there’s
nothing ever innocent when she’s involved.
“It’s Keagan, isn’t it?” interjects Rees.
 “What? I’ve heard that….Monàe’s partner?” Deon questions,
tugging at Rees’s arm.
“And her boyfriend,” adds Tashia, beaming.
“Have mercy, she’s screwing another one,” cries Deon, raking his
hand down his brown face.
“It’s not like that,” replies Rees.
“So why is Cruella Deville here, then?” scoffs Deon.
“Shut up,” growls Rees. “You need to be handling Justin. That
asshole is getting out of line,” Rees informs Tashia.
Tashia hunches over in the chair, dramatically. “Such a kill joy, that
one. His latest attempt at flexing is going to piss you off Rees.”
“Then clip his wings,” spits Deon.
“Noooo,” coos Tashia as she shakes her head, slowly. “I want to see
how well your daughter will preform…outside of the bedroom,” she teases.
“I said I wasn’t going to beg but, please-“
“Shut up!” roars Tashia, cutting Deon off.
Rubberneckers gawk their way. Tashia grips the sides of the table as
if a gust of wind was threatening to knock her down. An unseen visible
force rocks her body. Her eyeballs move rapidly behind her closed lids as if
she’s seeking. Suddenly, they narrow to stare off into the distance.
“Now, we see,” she whispers. Tossing back her head, Tashia fills the
room with a deranged laughter while slapping the table. “Asmodeus,” she
sings the strange name. “Asmodues,” she chants, louder again. “I don’t
know who the fuck that is, but….”
“I’m going,” whines Deon, fearful.
“Set it up,” she thunders, jumping to her feet. There was no room
for argument. Running for the door, she narrowed her gaze. “Keagan, my
man,” she chuckles.
Just as she knew, the cell phone in her purse begins going crazy.
Touching her ear piece.
“What the fuck was that?”
 “Don’t know, but I felt it,” she pants, getting into her car. Pushing
the starter, the sports car roars to life.
“Get to him,” the voice orders.
“Are they on the move?”
“What the fuck you think?” he fumes. “Shit, shit, SHIT!!”
Tashia could hear the sound of furniture breaking in the background.
“We have to contain this…keep him from …. Shut him down,” he
thunders.

MONÀE
The pain comes in waves; a cooling sensation followed by a
tightening of the muscles in my arm combined with a heat that at times
cause my arm to twitch. I bite back a curse while I pull my shirt to the side.
“What the fuck?” I hiss at the sight of the swollen area on my
shoulder.
My arm dangles like dead weight as I work my fingers around the
bite mark. It looks as if I was eaten by a rabid animal instead of a man.
What bacteria was in Keagan’s mouth to do all this? The same mouth that
ate me out, I kiss, Jesus.
“I’m worried about his mouth when I should be stressed over…” I
can’t say it out loud, but my inner voice is having a hay-day telling me what
a thirsty hoe I am.
It wasn’t till yesterday that he, and I had sex. Before that, weeks cuz
we were both acting dumb. I just stopped my period, so I hadn’t even
bothered with popping my birth control pills.
“That’s what I get for being a hoe…and I was just joking about…”
Once again, I shut up.
Since what happened in the car, Keagan’s been kissing ass and
walking on egg shells. Cute, but I’m not in the mood for cute. My insides
are on fire. I know it might just be mental cause I know he shot one off in
me, but the bitch is hurting. It’s as if the bottom is about to drop out. Now,
I’m one arm Lucy, too. All I want to do is go home, to my place and make
this day disappear. I don’t know what came over Keagan. All I know is I
don’t want it. Oh, I want him. Nothing has changed that. In spite of him
losing it in the throws of passion, that’s my man. He could have taken my
edges by snatching my wig. I’ll just have to rub some peppermint oil on it,
say a prayer, and keep it movin.
“There you are. Damn, what got a hold of you?”
“How you got up here?” I ask Michelle. Honestly, I’m not in the
mood.
She’s too busy pushing the stall doors open to make sure we’re
alone. Speed walking over to me, she jacks me up by the shirt.
“I ain’t going to jail,” she hisses into my face.
“Over Rico getting-“
“Rico? Why the fuck I’m worried about, no Justin,” she snarls,
shaking me.
“My fuckin arm hurts, bitch,” I snap, shoving her back.
“Your arm? I swear it’s gonna be your head, if I get mixed up in this
bullshit,” she promises.
No longer lost in my own woes, I grab the iodine to get back to
cleaning out the bite.
“Hurry up before someone come to piss,” I say.
Michelle is so close, I can feel her heartbeat. We aren’t taking any
chances for our voices to carry. Gripping my head, she cranes it to the side,
so she can whisper in my ear. Our eyes are locked on our reflection in the
bathroom mirror.
“Internal Affairs came to the office about you. Close your mouth,
listen. Cassie up front text me. Joey let me tag along so I could see for
myself what was going on. You remember the shit you took out of the
evidence locker cuz he told you to? Yeah, now you see where this is going.
The dogs are on your heels,” tightening her grip on my head, “and who let
you in the locker? Yes, bitch…me,” she finishes pushing my head, hard.
The pain radiating through my right arm fades into the distance as
anger takes hold.
 “Why can’t he just leave me-“
“Look, I don’t care about that bull. All I want to know is how you
gonna fix it?” demands Michelle as she stabs the fake marble countertop
with a finger. Her already big eyes bulging.
I work my mouth like a fish out of water.
“Yes, bitch…get those jaws ready cause that’s what you’re about to
do. I know you’ve moved on with Keagan, but…” she trails off throwing up
her hands.
I’m not even listening to her dumbass. Faster than I can remember
connecting dots, signals, and thoughts fire off in my mind. A clarity, a raw
energy, and rage courses through me. It’s a lushes feeling that I revel in. I
find a temporary sanity in it. Narrowing my gaze, I smile. Michelle is right.
I got to do it.
Taking out my cell from my back pocket, I put the snowball in
motion. Just before the voice mail picks up, Justin answers.
“Yes?”
He actually pulls off acting as if he doesn’t know it’s me. He’s been
holding his breath all day, waiting for my call. Well, I can act full of shit,
too.
“Hey, Justin…it’s me, Monàe,” I whisper, innocently.
“Detective Reeves, what a surprise! How can I be of service?”
“Oh, you must be in mixed company. Um, I, I’ll call you-“
“Why didn’t you say so, of course,” he talks over me. “Excuse me,
an old friend is seeking counsel,” he says, excusing himself. I pick up the
sound of his footsteps striking the tile flooring, a door opening, what sounds
like the echoing of a stairwell, another door, then finally, the rush of wind.
“Well, well, well.”
Gone is the professional, polite, Justin. Hello, cocky motherfucker.
“Justin, I-“
“That paper work went through faster than I thought,” he chuckles.
“You know it didn’t go down like that.”
 “Oh, so evidence didn’t go missing? I warned you that sloppy jobs
are only good when you’re on your knees. Now, all your cases have to be
reviewed. It doesn’t look good.”
“But you told me to-“
“I have no recollection of what you speak of Detective. Even still, if
anyone told you to break the law, it’s your duty to inform the powers that
be, not go along with it. Surely you know that. No, this is your mess,” he
tsks.
I sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry that I called.”
“Don’t be. I mean, who else but me can help you in such a trying
time,” he remarks.
“Really,” I smile. “I, I would be so grateful.”
I can hear him swallow, hard. I bet he was licking his thin lips and
giving his dick a victory squeeze.
“Sure, tell you what, I’ll look over the formal complaint, see what I
can do. Are you free?”
There was a lot to be said about the way he stated that question.
“I think I can sneak away. I don’t want my partner, Keagan
knowing about this.”
“Well, I can’t promise it won’t come out. Things like this have a
way of getting out. Is that a problem?”
Fuckin bastard. He’s letting me know that once I come back, he was
going to make sure Keagan knew all about it. The fucker.
“No, I guess not,” I mumble, letting the hurt and sadness vibrate in
my voice.
“Wonderful,” he cheers. “I’m sure once we get together, we’ll work
this all out.”
In disgust, I hang up. I can’t take the sound of his voice any longer.
Michelle watched the entire exchange slack jawed.
“I’m sorry, Monàe,” she cries, touching me as I make it for the door.
“It’s alright,” I mumble.
 “Wait! You’re actually gonna do it? I mean, maybe we can come up
with another way to-“
Stopping at the door, I glance over my shoulder at her. The
expression on her stricken face has me busting out in laughter.
“You actually think I’m gonna fuck that asshole? No, sis…I’m
gonna kill’em,” I laugh, walking out the door.
I am still chuckling when I enter my office. Amazing, replacing one
thing for another has all but erased the pain of my body. I feel freakin great.
Working my arm in a circle, I test my theory. Nothing, but an excitement
that I can barely contain.
“I was about to go check on you.”
Pausing to hover over my seat, I arch a brow at Keagan. “In the
bathroom?”
“You think I give a fuck?”
“No,” I lament, plopping down.
He gives me a beaming smile of relief that I was back to my old
self. The pinging of the laptop gets my attention off his handsome face.
“What’s the date on that receipt?”
My fingers glide over the fairly worn keyboard keys. Trevor didn’t
keep his files under names, but in dated coded folders. I figured due to the
text he sent Katara, what we were looking for had to be in the December
folder. Shit, I was on fire. I inhale the air. Even it had a way of entering my
nasal passages to open up my brain.
“Nevermind,” I announce.
Tap, tap, click on the mouse, tap, tap. I examine a file, see it’s not
the one, and keep working down the list.
“Found it,” I shout.
Glancing up, I freeze. Why is Keagan staring at me all weird?”
“What?”
He takes a second, giving me a narrowed eye glare. “Nothing,” he
response, getting to his feet to walk over to my side of the room. “Anything
good?”
 “Oh, yes.”
Tilting the screen a bit back, I want Keagan to take in the HD
quality image in all its glory.
“What the Jack Frost and the Grinch with his heart too small is this
shit?” he remarks leaning over to make sure he was seeing correctly.
“That right there is a motive for murder,” I smile.
 CHAPTER NINE
SLOAN
“Talk to me.”
I reposition the Bluetooth neckband to get better reception. Not
expecting to hear him on the line, my foot misses the step. Luckily, I
quickly grab the railing to stops myself from tumbling face first.
“Do you have him in your sight?”
I curse, mentally. Why the hell was Lucian on my dick? I had just
seen Keagan and Monàe in the damn hallway.
“Keagan’s fine. I got-“
“Listen, motherfucker… and listen good, I want you so close to
Keagan, there’s penetration,” roars Lucian.
Suddenly, the files in my hands hit the floor. My heart leaps in my
chest.
“What’s wrong?”
“Piamon is moving against him.”
A switch flips. It had been years since I had to be called upon. Even
so, the cage door opens, and a beast sleeping, raise his head. Nothing else
needs to be said. I retrace my steps through the hall.
“Shit,” I groan.
“What is it?” snaps Lucian in my ear.
“He’s gone to make an arrest.”
“Follow him,” commands Lucian.
“What the fuck you think I’m gonna do?”
Not a jog or a brisk run. Nah, I’m running, dodging for my life. I’ll
worry about a lie as to why I’m running though the precinct as if the hounds
of Hell were on my heels later. Hitting the garage door, I take off for the
direction of Keagan’s car. On alert, I jump out of the way of the muscle car
rounding a corner.
 “Hey! Hey,” I shout, flagging the car down. Bracing my weight on
the door, “You heading out?”
“Get in with him,” demands Lucian.
Keagan frowns, staring at the Bluetooth neckband. He’s caught his
cousin’s voice on the other line. Cutting his eyes at Monàe in the
passenger’s seat, he locks gazes with me.
“We’re heading to crash an engagement party,” smirks Monàe.
“There might be trouble.” Keagan speaks it as a statement, but I
know he’s asking.
“I’ll be trailing behind,” I reply, tapping the roof of the car.
Keagan peels away.
“She should be there, Tashia. Ride with her,” orders Lucian
“Ugh, she’s here, too?”
“She never left.”
The call goes dead. Taking off for my vehicle, I push the button on
the fob to ensure the trunk is open by the time I reach it. The echoing
bouncing off the concrete walls of a car coming on fast causes me to
glimpse up. Like magic, a Porsche 911 GT, pearl white screeches to a halt.
There was no need wondering who it was. The metallic tint job made it
impossible to see into the sports car. Only the thumping vibrations of the
music within could be heard.
“Tashia,” I frown, sliding in, placing the duffle bag on the floor
between my feet.
The track ends, and another one begins. As much as I would love to
bitch and moan about going back into action, the rift of the guitar chords to
Prison Sex by Tool makes me smile. A longing, a stirring, the taste of sweet
mayhem produces a good old feeling I can’t deny I’ve missed washes over
me. Leaning back, I close my eyes, settling myself. I can’t let lose, not yet. I
have to pace it, take it one second at a time to remain in control.
“Do you know where they’ll be?”
“At the party, is my guess. They’ve been monitoring his movements
same as we have.”
 Makes for a good assassination location. In the crowd of a few
hundred.
“What did he do? Did he break a rule, or what?”
After a few seconds passes and no answer, my head rolls in her
direction. Cracking an eye, I glare. Tashia’s switching gears and lanes like a
race car driver. A wicked smile twists her full, ruby red painted lips.
“What do you really know about Keagan?” Stealing a glance at me,
“I really don’t know him,” she admits, touching her chest, “but from what I
felt earlier,” she pauses, shaking her head, “Keagan isn’t Keagan,” she
winks.
I lower my gaze to follow her hand movements as she up shifts,
again.
“I see,” I mumble under my breath.
Does he know, I wonder?
“Asmodeus,” she laments.
Hearing the name threatens to cause my heart to cave in. I fight the
urge to claw at my skin. To break the things that confine me, but to do so
would mean losing my life. I have to be careful around Tashia. She’s a
master at playing coy in hopes that you’ll reveal more if you think she’s an
innocent.
“Regular hitmen or-“
“Regular. Piamon doesn’t want to make it too obvious it’s him.”
I nod. Leaning down, I unzip the bag. Tugging on a pair of black,
leather gloves, I shift through my gear. “We have to contain things and keep
Keagan from engaging.” When she hums, “Tashia, you know what Lucian
said,” I remind her, forcefully.
“I know. I know,” she pouts. Rocking her ass in the chair, “I just
want to see him cut loose, you know? To see what all the fuss is about,” she
smiles, licking her lips.
No, the fuck we don’t. God knows we don’t. Who told her that name?
Shit!
KEAGAN
 “Thank you.”
The sound of Monàe finishing her call pulls me back to the here and
now. The entire time I’ve been scanning the increasingly darkening road
ahead. The police cars following us gives me a slight peace of mind. I know
this was going to happen. The way I lost it, the feelings that were conjured
up during Monàe’s and I ‘afternoon delite’ in the backseat was beyond the
normal.
“That was the high school Herman and Fern claimed they went to in
Seattle. Well, there were a brother and sister that attended, but not our two.
The actually brother and sister were killed on a plane that went down in
Thailand over ten years ago.”
“Wow,” I exclaim. “So, it was a con.”
“I betcha it went like this,” Monàe begins, turning to face me. “They
were brought in my Erika. She knew that her nasty ass husband like them
young. It was only so long she could play the knocked up card. Maybe she
was going to fake the 9 months and buy a baby, we don’t know, but we do
know she had to keep that man. So, what does she do? She brings in the
sweet young thang. First, she gets Herman a job at Chad’s corporation.
Then, she sets up Herman and Fern to ‘meet’ Chad at a party.”
“Knowing his deprived ass was going to try to get a piece of the
younger, tighter ass,” I add, making a turn.
“Right…but why share the money? Fern was already fuckin the
man. Why be the side chick when she could be the main? They killed her,
and Fern moves on up. Genius, actually,” chuckles Monàe.
“I think Katara was fuckin one of them. That’s why Fern was going
out of her way to help Katara get her inheritance. That way, she’ll get rich
from Chad, and Herman strikes it rich with Katara.”
“Or Fern would either kill or divorce Chad in the end. I mean, there
was no reason to help Katara get paid. Doing that cut off Chad’s collateral.
It would have bankrupt him sooner or later, so why do it? No it’s one of
them each for Noelle and Katara. I say, they were going to upgrade to the
younger pair…and they could still be fucking in secret.”
Monàe’s logic made perfect sense when I thought about it. Why
waste your time on an old, broke ass man, when you could be with a
younger, richer one?
“We’ll never really know what made Katara hire Trevor to snoop on
Fern and Herman. It could have been she was pissed that Fern was
marrying Chad, the man she was secretly in love with, but it got Katara and
Trevor killed,” sighs Monàe.
“She probably told them she knew, dumbass,” I grumble.

SLOAN
We both enter the woods. With a nod, we break formation, flanking
out. The gun slung on my back is heavy. Yet, I love the weight and the feel
of it on my skin. I don’t really need the weapon, not to take out this lot.
However, in a way, I’m coming into this fight with a bazooka while the
hitmen are coming with knives. I’ll use a gun to level the deck in their
favor. Wait. Who the hell I’m I trying to trick? Professionals or not, these
fuckers don’t stand a chance in Hell.
The darkness covers Tashia’s in my movements as we creep closer
to the edge of the field boarding the estate. We had been hoping that the
hired guns would have chosen to complete the job from the distance,
instead of blending in with the party-goers.
I smile. Our hunch paid off. In most case, there is a plant among the
guests to ensure the job gets done if all else fails. However, the force is
scattered out in the field before us. Like a stalking panther, I move through
the tall, dead grass. Reaching over my shoulder, I draw the rifle forward.
My fingers twist the silencer on the tip, just for good measure. Already, in
place, I wait right along with the rest of them for the cue to begin. What
might that be?
Tilting my head, I hear it. The sound of a commotion is carried on
the wind. With the screams and shouts from below, comes an opportunity to
gun down Keagan during all the excitement. Not only do I have to keep him
from going apeshit over being shot at, I damn sure have to make sure
Monàe isn’t a casualty.
“Come on,” I whisper.
 I don’t want to start picking them off before time. With the grass
being so unkept, they’ll have to stand to take the shot. Once I make my first
mark, they’ll know they aren’t alone in the field. No nighttime goggles or
scope, my vision is all that’s needed to take aim. I finger the trigger.
“Now,” I smile.
The kickback from the rifle barely nudges my body. I might be a
quarter of a mile away, but I can still see the front of the man’s head
explode as the bullet exits his head. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch
movement. Of course, crazy ass Tashia would pick hand to hand instead of
killing from a distance. She always liked to give them a false sense of
actually leaving a fight with their lives.
I shift to another position, take aim and shoot my shot. The dumb
fuckers probably think there’s a gang of us due to the direction the next
bullet came from. Nope. Just me. Damn, they sure are determined to get the
job done. I hear two telling one of the guys to focus on taking out Keagan
and to leave the attacker to them. Okay. No worries.
I shift once more. This time I appear in the face of one of the two
men with the plan. The barrel of my silenced side arm barely touches his
forehead before I squeeze the trigger. I can feel Tashia to my left. I leave the
other guy for her to finish off. I’m moving again. The tall blades of dead
grass slaps against my body as I run to the sharp shooter trying to find his
shot.
“Hurry!”
I growl. I don’t know if Tashia really is attempting to get Keagan to
show out or if she’s having a hard time killing the asshole, but that
command from his friend urges the man to pull the trigger. I don’t have the
time to see if he was successful. The man twirls around to face me. Yes, I
didn’t use the wrong verb. It was more of a twirl than a turn. Because the
asshole pissed me off, I don’t use my gun. Nah, my hand closes on the hilt
of my double-edged hunting knife. With one hand, I wrap it around his arm,
pull up and tug at the same time, snapping the bone in two. Not giving him
the chance to fight back, I finish him off. His eyes widen as the moon
catches my blade just as it enters under his chin to slice through his mouth
and into his brain. I let him drop to the dirt to flop like a fish in his final
moments of life.
 Whatever, I don’t care. I train my eyes on the crowd below. Frantic,
I scan the crush of bodies. I don’t think my heart began to beat till I made
out Keagan, standing taller than the rest. Suddenly, my stomach drops to the
ground. He’s staring at me. Neither one of us blink. It’s only when Monàe
appears at his side do we break I contact. Shit! He knows.
KEAGAN
I don’t call Sloan, Lucian, nobody. I don’t want to know. Knowing
would only cause me to flip my wig. Knowing would only make me go on a
war path, crushing everyone and everything till I got to him. Yes, him. I
know who’s behind all of this. Nope, instead, I’m going to prove to him and
to all watching me like a hawk that I don’t want any goddamn beef. He cast
the first stone. It missed its target, and I ain’t picking one up to throw it over
the fence back at him. In fact, I went about my business with Sloan at my
side while we finished up the arrest.
When he tried to talk to me about it, “You handled it. I don’t want to
know,” is what I told him.
When Lucian called me, later making small talk as if he wasn’t
fishing for something, I played that shit off, too. “Work was okay. Well, I
arrest two crazies. Get this, they were fuckin each other, but they were
running a con of being sister and brother. Nah, nothing else major
happened. Like what?”
“You’re going to play it that way, then?”
“What way are you talking about? Why don’t you tell me what was
supposed to have happened?”
“Fuck you Keagan,” Lucian snarled.
“I’ll pass, but you can have the honor of sucking on my balls. How’s
that?” I offered.
I perk up at the sound of Monàe using her key to enter the
apartment. I suggested staying at her place. In light of what went down, I
didn’t want to be at my place.
“Did you know your Ex- was downstairs?” she remarks, hands on
her hips.
“I’m aware,” I reply, notching my eyebrows higher.
 When she left, she was wearing the same jeans and shirt from work.
Now, she was wearing a cotton candy pink body suit that had her pussy lips
talking to me as she walked across the floor.
“The hoe was having words with the front desk cuz they wouldn’t
let her on the floor. Then when she sees me, she acts as if I’m not there.”
“Um-hum,” I comment, raking my eyes over her body. I’m making
damn sure she knows I’m aware that wasn’t the outfit she left in.
Ignoring my ogling eyes, “So, I said, "Hello! Earth to bitch. I know
you see me standing here. If you disrespect me again, I'm gonna get in your
ass," spits Monàe.
Craning my head back, I outstretch my arms on the back of the sofa.
“So, where were you?”
“Killing Justin,” she nonchalantly answers, plopping in the space
next to me.
Frowning, I watch her kick off her heels. I know I must have a
dumbfounded expression on my face. Suddenly, I chuckle. She must be
clowning me. Yet, my laughter gets caught in my windpipe at the serious as
a heart attack stare she gives me. I glance towards the door she just walked
in, back to Monàe. Moving slowly, I lean, turning and placing my elbow on
my leg to really get a look at her. Sniffing the air, I don’t pick up any traces
of blood, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have killed him another way.
“You were killing Justin?” I repeat.
“Yes.”
“How?” I press, getting just as serious.
“He put Internal Affairs on me for something that he made me do.
He wanted to get a big win, you know to set the wheel in motion of making
D.A. So, I buried evidence. The guy really did the crime, but with the best
legal team on his side, he was going to walk,” she explains.
“I asked how not why?” I thunder.
Monàe flinches at the quaking of my voice. I take note of the way
her right arm is hanging lifeless at her side. The bite must be giving her
problems again.
No! Focus on this Justin thing.
 “Keagan, calm down. I didn’t do it. That’s up to the people I left
him with.”
“I swear, Monàe,” I start scrubbing my palm down my face, “I’m
close to slapping the shit out of you. Stop with the games.”
She chews on her bottom lip. “Know how you get away with shit a
few times, you think you’ll never get caught. Well, that wasn’t the only
favor I did for Justin. I’m happy I wasn’t so dumb to trust his ass. I taped
him on one of my old cells asking me to take something from the evidence
locker to put a drug dealer away. I did it, but I kept the evidence that time.
Tonight, I met him at the place he keeps for his hook ups. Hey, don’t look at
me like that. Nothing happened, but I had to plant the shit. Anyway, I didn’t
show up alone. I brought a few of the same drug dealer’s posse with me. If
they beat him to death, I guess I’ll know on the morning news tomorrow or
in a couple of days, when he turns up. I tipped off a friend at the newspaper
to make sure it all comes out. See?”
“Yes, I see,” is all I say. There was a coldness about her that I didn’t
like. “Get out of that outfit…and give it to me,” I add as an afterthought.
Catching her as she passes, “We need to talk.”
“I know, later,” she promises.
I narrow my eyes at her retreating back. I run my fingers through
my hair, frustrated. This isn’t right. Something’s not right. All day long I’ve
been fighting a yearning to consume Monàe. If I could reduce her down to a
powder, I would snort her. I want to fuck her, taste her, and I don’t mean
giving her ass a good rimming before burying my face in her pink cunt. I
want to drink her, like I did before. Just thinking about it is causing the
most exquisite sensation to throb through my taunt body. My hand
gravitates to my dick to stroke it. Shocked, I snatch my hand away as if I
had just been caught jacking off.
“Asmodeus?”
A deep voice so loud it seems to vibrate off the walls speaks. An
image flashes in my mind. Closing my eyes tight, I fight to clear my head.
It was as if the voice is seeking, waiting for me to confirm something that
either I can’t, or I’m too damn scared to do. I love my life. I love Monàe.
I’m not giving that up for the unknown…and I’m damn sure not willing to
be drug back into the darkness I had been banished in for God only knows
how long.

MONÀE
“Hey, it’s done.”
“Really? It worked?”
“I said, so didn’t I?”
“Damn, I never give you credit, but you’re one smart ass bitch,”
Michelle praises. “And you kept your man, to boot.”
“Wow, ain’t you a petty hoe,” I chuckle.
“Always. Look at least you know what you’re dealing with.”
Getting undressed, I examine my shoulder. It hurts, but it does look
a bit better. It’s not going to stop me from riding Keagan tonight, I can tell
you that. I might be wobbling, but I’ll manage. The need to feel him on the
inside has me wrapping up the conversation. I can shoot the shit with my
sister, later.
Stepping into the steaming water, “I got to go.”
“Yeah, people to do and shit. A, you coming over tomorrow, right?”
Michelle reminds me.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t want to but, yeah.”
“Thank God. Dad about blew up when I told him you might miss
it.”
“Like I really what to meet an Aunt I’ve never heard about. I don’t
care,” I scoff.
“Whatever, you just make sure you’re here when she walks through
the door.”
“Don’t worry. My fake smile and I will be there to meet, Auntie
Tashia,” I groan.

THE END OF CASE FILE: 03

 Hello Readers!
Come on and tell me what you think about this case. I hope you
were able to follow all the twists and turns. Needless to say, we’ve
removed one thorn from Keagan’s and Monae’s side. Hey, Justin had it
coming. You also got a good glimpse into the heart of Rees. Aleya is still
a bitch. Can you image her face when she opened that text? Ha! Sloan
strutted his stuff, and now, we have to wonder what the hell Tashia is
cooking up.

All in all, Keagan is in love with Monae. Unfortunately, because

he has no clue of his true nature, he doesn’t know what having such a
strong connection to her could mean for him…and her. That backseat
lovin’ has created a rift that will spell….Wait! Let me be quiet before I
reveal, too much.
I hope you guys enjoyed my finally release on 2018. Lord’s
welling, I’ll be back in 2019 with another case, that will bring more
secrets, sex, and more reveals. As always, THANK YOU for every
share, every download, the word of mouth, and the support. PLEASE,
remember to leave a review!
If you are a bit confused concerning what the hell is going on
with Keagan, you may want to read MISSING CASE FILES:2.5-
MISSING PIECE FOUND, a FREE exclusive via my website. It will
shed a lot of light on Keagan existence.

Till later, Peeps!

Till next time,

Stay Connected!
FACEBOOK
INSTAGRAM
 WEBSITE
VIP READ’S GROUP
 WRITERS WANTED
Looking for a publishing home?
After Hours Publications, is accepting submissions for writers of Romance that excel
within the genres of Interracial, Historical, Paranormal, African American Contemporary, New
Adult, and LGBT. If you’re interested, email the first 3-4 chapters with your synopsis to
Submissions@afterhourspublications.com
Check out our website for more information: www.afterhourspublications.com.

JOIN US
Stay in the loop with After Hours
Publications
FACEBOOK VIP READERS GROUP
AFTER HOURS FACEBOOK PAGE
AFTER HOURS READERS REWARDS
PROGRAM!
 Still want more? After Hours got you covered!
VISIT US FOR YOUR NEXT SIZZLING READ After Hours

GET YOUR ROMANCE FIX ONLINE

AFTER HOURS DIGITAL, Our ONLINE Library!
AVAILABLE NOW