“But, I thought… I’m a virgin, and I thought that’s why the Prophet—”
“Oh, you’ll still be pure afterwards.” I want to devour every last drop of despair she lets slip through. “Still a virgin.”
A shiver cuts through her, and she crosses her arms over her stomach. “I’ll never agree.”
“No?” I smile, perhaps because I can sense it infuriates her.
“You can’t force me.” Her fire lashes out, burning me in the most indulgent way.
“I can’t?” I grab another handful of her hair and yank her up.
She yelps as I throw her on the bed and cover her body with mine. On all fours, she tries to buck me but can’t. She thrashes as I slide my hand down her back and ass.
“See?” I spread her cheeks apart and push my knees between hers.
Still struggling, she yells, “Stop!”
I don’t.
I run my finger down her ass and press it against the hole. “I can do whatever I want with you, Delilah. I could face fuck you right now. Plunge into your ass. Bite your pussy and tongue this tight little hole.” I push just a little, almost breaching her.
“Stop!” Her yell is muffled in the comforter.
I push back and stand as she flips over and scuttles until she hits the headboard.
“Stay away from me!” She breathes hard, her breasts rising and falling, pink creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. Beautiful.
“I can’t.” I give her another smirk. “But that’s all for tonight.”
When I close and lock her door, I feel her sob before I hear it.
“Where are the rest of the receipts?” I sift through the pile of information on my desk, dropped there by the dumbest bagman we’ve ever hired.
“Oh, I guess they must be in the car still.” He turns, his redneck “Duck Dynasty” t-shirt even more offensive from the back.
Once he’s left my office, I hit a button and turn on the flatscreen on the wall. There she is, Delilah, sitting on her bed and chewing her thumbnail. She does that a lot. Sometimes she hugs her knees and rocks. I watch it all. Before, I would check on my Maiden once a month at most. With Delilah, I can’t stop looking.
I scared her tonight. I had to. No, I wanted to. The fear in her was like the scent of fresh blood to a hound. I crave it.
A knock sounds at my door and Franklin walks in.
I scowl and flip off the TV screen. “What do you want?”
“Me and the boys are heading to the Chapel.”
“So?”
He shifts from one foot to the other, his bald pate shiny with oil. “The Prophet said we had to check in with you before we could—”
“Go.” I wave him away. “But don’t do any permanent damage like last time. That costs us money.”
His smile somehow makes him even uglier. “I won’t.”
“Fuck off.” I flip the screen back on as he hustles down the hall, ready to spend his evening snorting blow and getting his filthy dick wet.
Returning my attention to Delilah, I stare at the curve of her neck where it disappears into her white gown. Would she end up at the Chapel? The thought rots in my gut as I consider her delicate features.
“I got ‘em.” The Duck Dynasty dipshit returns with a tattered notebook in his hand. “Wrote it all down just like you told me.”
“Leave it.” I point to an empty spot on the scarred wooden surface.
He drops it there, then glances at the TV. “She’s a looker.”
“Get the fuck out!” I reach for the pistol in the holster under my desk, my control hanging by a thread. Offing this lowlife would go a long way toward stress relief.
“Sorry, boss.” He holds up his hands and backs away. Each step farther from me he gets, the easier I feel. I release the pistol and settle into my chair.
Grabbing the notebook, I flip through to check what amounts he received from our smattering of all-cash business. We didn’t need many to cover our money laundering side of the business. By far the easiest place to launder money was the church. No taxes, all cash, no IRS problems. We built an empire on it, along with quite a few other unscrupulous avenues.
I tally up the numbers and make the additions to a handful of spreadsheets. The drudgery eats away at me. But I can’t escape it. My die was cast a long time ago. I’m almost as trapped as my Maiden. At the thought, I look up at the screen.
Rage blots out whatever thoughts I have as I grab the pistol and rush out the door.
Chapter 7
Delilah
A soft knock at my door tears my attention away from the thumbnail I’ve been chewing on for half an hour.
“It’s me.” A low voice—the Spinner with the scar along her forehead. Spinner Chastity, I think they call her.