Debt Collector's Due

“So good, Fie. So good.” Her voice is shrill and breathy.

“I’m going to make you come, so hard.” I thrust into her fast and pull out.

“Oh. Oh.” Her pussy pulses and I pull out as she squirts. “You’re so sexy when you squirt for me.” I push back in, and she grips the sheets as she snaps her hips up. “You going to do it again for me?” I fuck her harder, finding the angle that hits her spot. Her legs tremble.

“Fie. I’m going to.”

“Yes.” I pull out, and she rewards me with droplets. Lights are dancing behind my eyelids, and my balls are drawing up. I pump into her, and she contracts. I thrust through her orgasm and pull out, spraying onto her belly. She purrs, and I rub the pearly liquid into her skin.

“Rest. It’s going to be a long night.”

Chapter Six

Athena

“Mom, are you happy?”

I peer up at my son, and the torment in his eyes hits me like a sucker punch.

“Yes and no. We have a chance for a fresh start. You’ll get to know your Dad, and I.” I what?

“Get to be happy with him?” Kier fills in the blanks. The answer is simple, but poignant.

I nod my head. “Yes. We’re going to try to be. Does that bother you?”

His brow wrinkles. “I just don’t understand. If Papa was so powerful, why couldn’t he take care of this guy who hurt Alfie?”

I close my eyes. “When it came to me, Dad could be extremely unreasonable. No one was good enough.”

“Wait. He didn’t know?”

“Not at first. We kept it hidden from him for two years.’

“What!”

“Boy, where do you think you get your sly tendencies from?” I ask as I arch an eyebrow.

“Myself,” he mumbles, making me laugh.

“Right.”

“When did he find out? What happened?”

The shattering of the glass window made my stomach sour. The alarm blares. To be this brazen, they’re set on one of two things, murder or kidnapping. I stand as I picture the gun in the nightstand. “Go to your father’s room and get in the closet,” I whisper.

“What? Mom. No. I’m not leaving you.”

“Now, Kieron.” I deepen my voice and meet his gaze. He runs off down the hall, and I follow in his footsteps, never turning my back. I slid into the room and pull the .45 out of the drawer. It’s not my favorite. It feels wrong in my hands, bulkier and heavier than my Glock 9 with the specialized handle grip I prefer. I stand my ground in front of the closet and strain to hear what’s going on. A single set of boots pound over the floor. Maybe I read this wrong. This could be nothing more than a disgruntled person looking to do some damage and leave a message behind for Alfie.

A loud bang makes me jump. There are three rooms before Alfie. The bang comes again. He’s sweeping the rooms. I got something for you behind room number four, fucker. I crack my neck and roll my shoulders as I blank out the way my Dad taught me. The only thing I’m worried about is stopping him before he comes near my son. The alarm has a voice coming through, asking me if I need assistance. The boots stop just shy of the room. They begin to retreat, and I give chase. I have to know who did this. I skid around the corner and see the lithe frame all in black.

“Stop.” I bark.

He continues to run, and I aim at his leg and shoot. He stumbles and peers back at me. Hi, eyes are a stunning green full of rage. He lifts his arm, and I duck back inside the house. The shot never comes. A sickening thud does. I look back out and find a furious Alfie behind the wheel of his Black BMV. A body-sized dent now rests on the hood. He steps out of the car, with Ifan on his heels. Ifan kicks the dazed man’s gun further away, and Alfie lifts him up by his collar.

“You’re going to tell me who the fuck you are and why you targeted my house.”

“Get him in the basement, I’ll handle this,” Ifan says.