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Rukem pulled himself from where he stood, forcing his legs in the opposite direction of what beckoned to every fiber of his being. Why shouldn’t he take it now? Why wait?
His phone buzzed and he snarled inwardly at Grim’s name. He opened his chat.
I have the rest of the information you asked for on Darby Mae. Ready to receive?
He texted,Yes.
You sure?
Everything stilled in him at that. What might he have that would cause him to double check?Yes,he texted, wanting to know everything now rather than later.
I think I figured out why she doesn’t date. His name is Keith Grimes. She got with him at seventeen and entered what amounted to a two and a half year prison sentence. A sexual breeder of the darker arts. Met her at a dance club, wooed her, and took her home to begin his sick psycho-conversion therapy. Six perfectly planned months of romance, flowers and ever after promises gradually devolved into sexual slavery.
Rukem lowered his phone at those words, a calibrating rage sending him for the door. Once out, he lifted his phone and finished reading.
Not sure how but she somehow escaped.
Is he in prison?he texted.
Nothing was done. She picked up the pieces, moved in with her father and put her life back together. 1232 Carmel Dr. Lafayette, LA. That’s his address. Figured you’d want it. Let me know when you want to visit him and I’ll happily take you.
You’re welcome.
P.S. I love you.
Rukem’s fingers moved almost without thought.I’ll be in touch. Thanks.
He hurried to his apartment, realizing the universe had answered him about why he should wait. When she’d mentioned being sexually forced, he had never fathomed she’d meant repeatedly. Once in his apartment, he pulled Ace’s name up and dialed him.
“Speak quick, I’m about to arrive at Sophie’s.”
“Grim gave me the rest of Darby Mae’s history. A man named Keith Grimes imprisoned her for two and a half years of sexual abuse. He’s still alive and I intend to fix that first chance I can. You’ll ride with us?”
“Hell yes I fucking will,” he said with dark lust. “Now you’re talking my kind of date.”
“Everything else remains as planned.”
“Works for me. Gotta go.”
Rukem hung up and paced for a full minute, his need to hurt something growing inside him. He hurried to his closet, studying the rows of clothes for something suitable to fish in, snatching up a pair of blue jeans and an undershirt. He grabbed a lightweight leather jacket for warmth then swapped his shoes for hiking boots. He studied the accessories and stuffed a black hair strap in his pocket. What else might be needed forfishing?
When he couldn’t fathom a single thing, he checked himself in the mirror, feeling like he might look ridiculous. What other commoner items did he need? Wallet, cash, driver’s license. Slang. Commoner’s sense. A driver.
He opened a small drawer and selected a pair of black shades and headed out. In the corridor, he perused his contacts, hoping a name would jump out at him. Shuhlaya. She could drive them. He liked that better than a male.
He checked his messages, seeing a group one from The Eveque. He opened it, scanning the contents. Formal invite to marriage classes. He’d love to be in the heads of the brothers who were yet against it. They’d be throwing royal riots about that one. And if it wasn’t for Darby, he’d be right there rioting with them. Now hewantedthe classes. He mostly needed to know if what he was experiencing was similar to what they were feeling. He didn’t need to share, just observe. Maybe ask questions for obtaining class teaching materials.
He texted Shulaya.I need a driver. You available?
He opened Darby’s box.You ready? I’m one minute away.
Sure can.When and where, Shulaya answered.
Within an hour, he texted.For about four hours.
Almost,Darby texted.Five more minutes!
He swiped back to Shulaya, reading her text.Any particular vehicle?
