She sounded sincere. But Malcolm knew she’d change her mind once she was safe. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe he could ever set them free. He also wasn’t stupid enough to let them know it. They’d be a lot easier to control if they thought there was a chance.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “You be on your best behavior and work hard like you should and in another week or so I’ll see what I can do. Okay?”
Latisha exchanged a glance with her sister, then nodded. “Yes, sir. We-we’ll do whatever you say. Won’t we, Marcie?”
Marcie seemed less willing to agree.
“Won’t we, Marcie!” Latisha prodded.
“Yes, sir.”
Malcolm ignored the sullenness of her reply. “I’m glad we finally understand each other.”
He managed a smile but let it fade as soon as he stomped out of the room. “Stupid bitches,” he muttered under his breath. Most women weren’t good for anything except…
The image that appeared caused a rush of testosterone so powerful it brought him to an abrupt halt. He’d always taken full advantage of the “badge bunnies” who threw themselves at any man wearing a uniform. But he hadn’t touched Latisha and Marcie. He’d told himself he wouldn’t stoop that low. The officers he used to work with held sex offenders in the highest contempt. He didn’t want to know they’d think of him in the same way.
But he’d never see his former coworkers again. So who would know? Besides, it was because of Latisha and Marcie that he couldn’t go to Franklin Boulevard to pick up a prostitute.
After all the teasing and flirting he’d done with Mary, he wanted a woman. Badly. And there were two right here. Two who had nothing better to do. Two who were ripe for the taking.
They were just black women. What would it hurt?
Come on. Go for it. Maybe if he relieved some of his sexual tension, he’d be able to concentrate, make a decision about Mary. Then he might not be so influenced by the desire to get in her pants…
Returning to the bedroom, Malcolm flipped on the light. Both girls shrank away from him, but his gaze lingered on Latisha. His father had taught him from the time he was just a boy that minorities weren’t worth his attention. But the younger of the two…she was quite pretty, if he let himself look at her that way. She had large tits, an itty-bitty waist and nice round hips. And she didn’t have the welts, freshly swollen lip and black eye he’d given Marcie when he’d dragged her into the house from the van.
“I know how you can guarantee your ticket home,” he said.
Latisha’s eyes widened and grew wary at the same time. She’d noticed the change in his voice and manner, but the promise of his words proved too difficult to resist. “H-how?”
“Spend half an hour with me in the bedroom, doing whatever I ask, and I’ll let you go. I promise.”
“In the bedroom?” she repeated, looking as if she was about to be sick.
“What’s thirty minutes?” he asked, trying to make it more appealing. “Thirty minutes for the sake of freedom.”
“Will you let my sister go, too?”
“Sure,” he said. “But that’ll cost the whole night.”
Marcie struggled to scoot closer to Latisha. “Don’t do it,” she warned. “He’s lyin’. He’ll drag you outta here and you won’t be comin’ back, and not ’cause he took you home. He’s gonna kill us both. That’s what he’s gonna do.”
Malcolm felt his hands curl into fists. Marcie was right. He had no choice. But it angered him that she wouldn’t at least hope for the best. “Shut up! I’m not talking to you, you crackhead bitch!”
“Please, don’ do this to her,” Marcie begged. “It’s me you’re mad at. She ain’t done nothin’.”
“But she’s the one I want. So stay out of it.” He nudged Latisha’s knee with his foot. “Take off your clothes.”
Latisha whimpered but didn’t act.
“Come on,” he persisted. “Your sister’s the one who’s lying. I might kill her before we’re through, but I won’t hurt you, not if you’ve been good to me.”
Tears slipped from her eyes, but it was Marcie who began to plead. “Please. She’s my baby sister. She’s a good girl. She ain’t never been with a man. Take me. I can make it fun. It’s me you want to punish.”
This was the most respectful Marcie had been, but Malcolm knew how deeply she hated him. It was all an act to save her sister’s sorry ass. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he responded. “Look at you!”
“You won’t be able to tell what I look like in the dark. Jus’ take me outta here, so she don’t gotta hear it, and I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.”
She’d try to kill him, more likely. He didn’t find her appealing. And because of her, he had to go to the trouble of getting a new phone, which meant he needed another alias. He preferred Latisha. But he’d never forced a woman before. He’d spent fifteen years as a cop, believing that ra**sts were the worst kind of scum, second only to pedophiles. Did he really want to become one of them?
Even prison inmates had no respect for a ra**st. He remembered wondering why they didn’t have enough pride to use some self-restraint, and here he was, facing the same temptation. It showed how much he’d changed, but he didn’t want to think about that.
Attempting to ignore the part of him that still balked at what he was about to do, he stepped forward. He’d unchain Latisha and drag her ass out of here if he had to.
But Marcie got in front of her. “No!” she cried. “You won’t take her! Let her be!”
The stupid bitch was willing to take another beating. He’d probably have to fight them both. And if it got too violent, he wasn’t sure he could get it up.
“Shut your ugly mouth and go to sleep,” he snapped and walked out. He didn’t want Marcie or Latisha. He wanted Mary. And he was going to have her.
He just needed to figure out how.
Jane was getting out of the shower when the doorbell rang. She wrapped a towel around her head and pulled on her robe before peeking through the blinds in the kitchen. It was David.
“Hi,” she breathed as she let him into her condo. She’d managed to fall asleep a couple of hours after searching every reverse directory available to her, without any success. Then she’d gotten up and worked out before taking Kate to school in her sweats, like she did every day. But David looked as if he’d been up since she called him. Wearing a sport jacket, a tie and some chinos, he’d tried to smooth down his hair, but it stood up in back. Apparently, he hadn’t showered or shaved, but it didn’t hurt his appearance. With short dark hair, light green eyes and a rugged face, he was handsome despite being a little frayed around the edges. Jane had always thought so, even when she hated him all those years ago.