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Waters stands up. “I need to be someplace. She’s probably talking to the cops. Have fun with her, punish her, but don’t kill her until I talk to her.” He glances at me and then Deleon, motioning us toward the door. We both stand and follow him and already Sheila is in a corner, out of view, with three men in front of her.
I grimace, adrenaline surging through me, fighting the clawing need to save her and shoot every motherfucker in this place. But I can’t. There are women being held captive in camps that will be moved and lost if I blow my cover and crimes that will go unanswered. Sheila will end up dead and I won’t be able to connect it to Waters.
I keep walking and shut the fucking door on a woman in need, wondering what will be left of me when this is over. I wonder if I’ll still recognize myself. Who am I kidding? I already don’t.
Once we’re in the main clubhouse, Waters motions us to the porch. We step outside and his phone rings. He answers the call and steps away from us.
“You don’t like to see the women touched,” Deleon comments, leaning on the railing, elbows on the wooden ledge.
I lean on the same ledge, my back to the wood, and cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t see you partaking in the festivities yourself.”
“Nah,” he says. “You know me, man. I like my women soft and moaning.” He turns around to face the same direction as me. “King Devil knows I’ll kill ‘em, but I don’t want to fuck ‘em. I’m about business and money. We’re alike in that.”
He thinks we’re alike and he’s not wrong. He’s a killer and before this is over, I predict I will be, too. And he’s the one who will be dead.
***
The present…
Waters attorney finally arrives over an hour late, which I suspect has something to do with him finding out I’m present.
Once we’re in the main hallway leading to the secure room where Waters has been taken, I stop Pri just beyond the guard’s reach. And holy hell, she’s beautiful, the kind of beauty Waters will get off on in all the wrong ways. “He’s a monster. He will try to get under your skin.”
“I know his type,” she says, “too well.”
“Emotions are corruptible tools to use for manipulation.”
“So my father preached to m from the day I could walk.”
“Waters will tell you how fuckable you are. How I’m using you. He’ll say some crass things, like asking you how good I am with my tongue. He loves that line.”
She blanches. “I—ah—thanks for the warning. And for the record, between us, very good.”
My lips curve. “Is that right?”
“Yes. It is. Can we get this over with?”
I study her a moment, looking for any sign she doesn’t want to do this, but I find only determination. “Yes. Let’s get this over with.” I motion her forward and we close the space between us and the guard. The man in uniform, with a belly that says he loves beer, buzzes the door and I hold it open for Pri. With her head held high, her body language confident and fearless, she enters the room with me quickly following. Waters, dressed in a black-striped prison uniform, sits behind the only furniture in the small concrete room—a basic table. Beside him is Daniel White, his attorney, a lanky man in a suit, wearing thick-rimmed glasses. Waters’ eyes meet mine and cut like hot steel, the devil himself in the depths of his green eyes. His lips quirk with amusement.
White pushes to his feet and eyes me, shifting to Pri, as he demands, “Who’s this?” as if I’m not able to speak myself and he doesn’t already know anyway.
“That, Daniel,” Waters replies, “is the prosecution’s star witness, Adrian Mack.”
Daniel smirks. “The star witness that committed crimes you can testify to.” He offers Pri a gloating look. “Maybe we should have him on our three for one list.”
Pri steps to the opposite side of the table, across from Daniel, meeting him head on. “I don’t need a list. No deal.”
Waters’ eyes fix on her as I step in front of him. He glances at me. “Nice piece of pussy. I see why you’re fucking her. She can get you off and keep you out of jail.”
I lean on the table and look him in the eyes. “Maybe if you get Daniel off in the back room, he’ll do the same for you.”
His lips curve. “I’d rather lick Priscilla. Or is it Pri?” He leans closer. “No one is as good at being bad as you were, Adrian Mack, if they’re not really bad.”
“And yet, I didn’t kill you.”
“You didn’t want to kill me.”
He’s wrong. I wanted it like I have never wanted anything in my life.
