Dangerous Thirst (Possessing Her Book 1), page 3
“You’re so good at this.” I shook my head in admiration, and she wrapped her hands around me.
“You’ve got to understand these kids have seen a lot, Olivia. They’ll manipulate you without meaning any harm. That boy was about to have half your pizza in his pocket because he’s afraid of going hungry.” She was reminding me of the lessons she’d taught me while I’d worked under her as an intern for a year.
I could relate to the fear of hunger, so I often found myself giving in when I needed to be stricter. Tasha helped me stay strong and fight against my own insecurities.
As an older African-American woman, she garnered respect instantly whenever the children came around. They knew she didn’t take any crap, but more importantly, they felt the love she carried for them.
Tasha would have given the shirt off her back for the children in her care, and it was her example that had led me to my current position. No one had advocated harder for me than Tasha. She even went above and beyond to seek funding for my foster care initiative. There was no way I could have been where I was if it weren’t for her.
“You can’t save everyone, baby,” she said. It was her normal sermon, which I heard at least twice a week. After dedicating decades of her life to helping the forgotten children of Chicago, Tasha had more advice than most about a life in social work.
“You have to be firm,” she said. “These children can smell weakness. They need and want love, but their need for survival will trump everything else.”
“I know, I know.” I nodded, packing the last of the pizza in the takeaway boxes.
“Are you sure you’re ready for such a commitment, baby?” she asked, commanding my attention.
“I’m positive, Ms. Tasha.” No matter how old I got, I could never call her by her first name alone. Tasha Jackson deserved a title for all the work she’d done in the community.
If it weren’t for her, I undoubtedly would have been selling my body or locked away in a jail cell—if I even made it to see twenty-two. Plenty of my friends had suffered that fate, and I was determined to help save the next generation.
“Well, I guess that’s best, because they’re coming over whether you like it or not!” she teased, knowing all the paperwork had been submitted. It was far too late to turn back. I would be hosting my own children in a few days.
“Ms. Olivia, do you need help?” Maria asked from the end of the table. I smiled and called over the older boys. We all carried the pizza boxes to the community van, loading the back before sending the kids back home.
It was hard for me to say good-bye knowing they were returning to the orphanage. I looked forward to the day I could keep them longer because they deserved to have a home and a family.
6. Chapter Four
Hunter
Saturday Evening
“There you are,” I said, finally reaching Sandra after searching the party for her.
“Oh, I didn’t know where you’d gone.” She smiled, looking aloof as always.
Typically, I enjoyed her lack of attention, but now that I needed to figure out what to do about the blackmail letter, I needed her to respond quickly. According to the letter, I only had a few hours to decide what I was going to do before meeting at a location for further instructions.
“Cameron, you have no idea!” Sandra laughed loudly, bringing her hand to her chest to draw attention to the fake double Ds I’d paid for.
“I have to show you something,” I said, tugging her arm. There was no way I could pull her from the attention without the lure of something greater.
Sandra was blatantly flirting, something that might have set me off on a different night. She was lucky I had bigger fish to fry. I tried my best to keep my composure in front of the crowd as I racked my brain for a solution to my extortion problem.
In law school, we had learned there was always more than one solution to a problem. All I had to do was find an alternative. It couldn’t be that hard. So they knew about something I wanted to keep private? I just needed to find a better reason for them to keep that between us. That would be nearly impossible, though, since I had no idea who had sent the letter.
My blood began to boil with frustration as I pulled Sandra through the party. I hated not being in control of my world. I needed to flip the tables as soon as possible so I could reclaim my power.
“What are you doing?” Sandra jolted me back to reality as we approached the elevators. She must have known we were leaving the party. She never wanted to walk away from attention.
“I need to get home,” I said. It was the truth. If I didn’t get time and space alone to plot out a plan, I wouldn’t stand a chance of finding a way out of this mess.
“You said we were going out for a fun night together!” Her voice rose as the elevator opened.
We were the only people leaving this expensive event earlier than required, which afforded us a bit of privacy in the elevator. No one else was going down to the lobby.
“Something came up with work,” I said, trying to reason with Sandra, but she was irate.
“Something always comes up, Hunter!” she hollered as the elevator descended. “I’m not the type of woman who sits at home waiting around for a man. Don’t you get that?”
I wanted to scream at her and list all the reasons I didn’t have time for her bullshit, but it wasn’t worth the energy. She would tire herself out and fall asleep before long, so I leaned back and allowed her to continue.
“You think this is a game, don’t you? Like I can’t find another rich man who loves fucking me?” She raised her eyebrows with her question just as the elevator doors slid open.
I shot her a serious scowl, and she stopped. She knew not to embarrass me in front of other people. She fumed beside me in sullen silence until our limousine pulled into the valet driveway.
As soon as we were alone in the back of the luxury vehicle, she continued like she had never been interrupted.
“I can have another lawyer putting me up in a penthouse before the weekend is over, Hunter!” she yelled across the leather seat.
Her words barely registered. I was focused on the seriousness of the threat I faced. My career was about to skyrocket into the stratosphere, but it might not mean a damn thing depending on exactly what this blackmailer knew. I wasn’t going to show my hand, but I did need to see if they were dumb enough to reveal their information.
Before long, we arrived at our apartment building, and we rode the elevator up in silence. As we reached the top floor and I opened the door to our penthouse apartment, I assumed Sandra had tired herself out until I felt the hard leather of her shoe strike my arm.
Seeing the stiletto fall to the floor, I turned to face her in shock. “Have you lost her mind?”
“How dare you ignore me!” she screamed. “You think I’m some replaceable piece of furniture? Those men only waste their time with you for a glimpse at me!”
Sandra was right about one thing. I did think she was replaceable. As beautiful as she was, she was nobody. She would never have gotten invited to the functions I took her to on her own.
Her tantrum sent me into overdrive.
I knew I was out of control before my fingers even gripped her thin arms, pinning her to the wall.
“Oh God, Hunter, is this what you want?” She breathed the words, wrapping her right leg around my body like I was going to take her in the hallway.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I growled, disgusted that she would think I was turned on by her needy antics.
“Well, fuck you too!” she screeched.
Looking at my watch, I shook my head. “You know what? I don’t have time for this. Get your shit, Sandra. You’re out!”
She hurled insults after me, but I was done dealing with her. I had to meet the author of the blackmail letter in less than an hour, and right now, that was almost preferable to dealing with Sandra. I was certain I didn’t want to see her again.
The private elevator closed before she could reach me. Once in the lobby, I instructed security to go upstairs and keep a close eye on her.
“I don’t want anything broken, and I need her out before I return,” I said, making my demands clear. The heavy-set security guard nodded before stepping into the elevator to handle my request.
I had real problems to solve, and I was ready to face them regardless of what they would cost.
Olivia
Saturday Night
“Ms. Blanche, what are you doing here?” the man asked at my car window, startling me. He clearly knew me, but I was unsure who I was talking to. He wore baggy coveralls and a hat pulled so low I could barely see his eyes.
“Hi,” I said as I stepped out of my Honda Accord.
“It’s me, Kevin!” he said, lifting the hat to reveal his eyes.
I had met Kevin when I came to tour the house before leasing it with the funds Tasha had sourced me through grants and scholarships. There were a lot of resources available for young women like me—products of the social services network who came with a college degree and hoped to do some good in the community.
“How are you?” I tried to hide my fear. When I’d met him, I’d been told he kept up the landscaping as a part of a felon employment policy. He had been released on good behavior for what I understood to be a violent crime, so now coming face to face with him in the dark parking lot, I couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable.
“I was getting things ready for you. I wanted the kids to have a great-looking house to come home to, but I thought I had a few more days before you opened up.” He took a step closer, and I stepped back.
“You still have time,” I said. “They’re not moving in for a while. I just wanted to check out the house.” It was kind of the truth. The kids wouldn’t be moving in for a few days, but I had a lot to do to get ready, so I wanted to stay the night.
The house was my only connection to them, and after dropping them off at the orphanage, I had felt lonely. This new house was where I could prove to them I would always be there with them. I’d come here to feel some sense of closeness to my new family.
“Well, have a good night. I’ll be on the lookout for the bad guys!” He smiled, and I felt my stomach churn a little.
Sure, Kevin had paid his debt to society, but he was in many ways the bad guy. It was unsettling to see him working on the house at night, but I went into the building anyway.
It was dark, almost too dark to feel safe. I powered up my laptop for a little light since I still hadn’t had the electricity turned on. Checking my social media, I responded to a few messages and comments before scrolling through my emails.
I had recently set out to find interns, posting ads on several online platforms, and they had garnered huge responses. I’d just finished with my work when I heard a noise that brought my attention to the window.
It was Kevin unchaining his bike from the wall before riding off into the darkness. A cloud of guilt rushed over me for judging him earlier. Kevin was the kind of person I was trying to save. He was much like myself. He’d probably been alone most of his life, making decisions for himself far before he was ready.
The thought took me back to my childhood and a long stay at home without my father. The memory was faint, and I imagined I was only four or five years old. There had been one loaf of bread, but I’d been smart enough to pick at it slowly.
It wasn’t until the fourth day alone that I ran out of the moldy bread. I was grateful when my father burst through the door, sure he would rescue me from such severe hunger. To my surprise, he stormed into his room without looking my way, locked the door, and slept until the next day.
Many nights, I had lain awake wondering why my dad didn’t love me. What could make a man walk past a needy child without lending assistance? It was a question I’d never learned the answer to, but I was committed to making sure no other child experienced such neglect on my watch.
People like Kevin were grouped with me, though our circumstances had led us down different paths. He was a forgotten child now determined to help others like himself. I decided he would be an ally in my movement, and I refused to feel any type of fear toward him. Kevin was good, just like I was.
Together, we could save a lot of children, and that was just what I wanted to do. Looking around the townhouse, I tried to decipher which room would serve which purpose when my eyes landed on the refrigerator.
If there was one thing I knew, it was that I never wanted the children who lived with me to go hungry or feel the need to ask for food. They would have free rein in the kitchen, unlike the typical setup in foster homes.
It was common to lock the refrigerator and cabinets because foster children would stash food in preparation of being cut off from the food supply. I didn’t want my kids to worry about that, so I would talk to them on the first day, and we would make a list of their favorite foods so I could always have them stocked.
A smile filled my face as I jotted down ideas to make my foster home more welcoming and inviting. It was going to be a haven for children, and that made me feel incredible.
7. Chapter Five
Hunter
Saturday Night
The air was crisp as I stood in the convenience store parking lot where the blackmailer had instructed me to meet him. According to my watch, they were twenty minutes late. I began to create scenarios that put me off the hook. Maybe they had been killed or something had scared them out of their plan, leaving me to go back to the life I had worked so hard to attain.
“You got a light?” A man appeared at my right, wearing a leather jacket and jeans. He didn’t look like a bum, but I was less than comfortable with him standing so close to me.
“No,” I answered with tense shoulders, hoping to deter him from further conversation.
Digging into his pockets, he retrieved a lighter and sparked the tip of his hand-rolled cigarette. My mind raced as I glared at him, unsure why he would request a lighter from me when he had one the whole time. My thoughts diminished when I realized he was smoking marijuana rather than tobacco.
“Take a hit.” He held the thin white joint in my direction.
I refused to look his way. “I’m good.”
The man nodded, accepting my rejection. Glancing at my watch, I wondered if these people were ever going to show. I had checked my phone several times, though I knew I had yet to receive further information.
Maybe I had watched too many movies, but I assumed if they could find me at a party, they could find my cell number and send a text if they wanted to.
“You got the time?” the man asked.
“No,” I answered, lying. I didn’t want to show him my watch or continue a conversation with him.
A shiny black Escalade pulled into the parking lot. The man took one step forward before turning back to look at me over his shoulder.
“Hunter, I know you have the fucking time.”
My heart sank. He was part of the blackmailing crew? Had I known, I would’ve beat him to shreds while alone in the parking lot, but now he had backup. With a nod of his head, he motioned for me to follow him into the waiting SUV.
“I don’t get into cars with people I don’t know.” I tightened my jaw, aggravated by my own miscalculation.
“That’s understandable,” he said before inhaling the joint. “But if you don’t get in this car with me, you’ll be getting raped by some guys you don’t know in prison, and that seems a lot worse if you ask me.” He shrugged before walking toward the black Escalade.
“Wait!” I called out. “Let me have that.” I reached for the joint.
I hadn’t smoked weed since college, but if there was ever a time to relax, it was before climbing into a car full of strangers who were threatening to ruin my life.
When I climbed into the back seat, I noted a shadowy figure behind the wheel and a large man sitting against the opposite end of the car. The large man nodded at me. “Hunter.”
He didn’t want to be recognized. With his baggy clothes and large sunglasses, he had made a point to disguise his appearance.
“I have something better for you to stare at,” he said. He handed an iPad to me, and I accepted the tablet as the man with the joint scooted close. I was surrounded by strangers, the atmosphere thick with tension as the driver pulled out of the parking lot and slowly drove down the street.
Hesitating, I thought of what could possibly be on the screen, but knowing these men meant business, I decided there was no choice but to face the truth. Turning my attention to the tablet, I saw exactly what I had anticipated. My stomach churned with anger.
“I understand thinking no one would ever find out,” the large man said.
