After dropping off another book to Sarah, this time American Gods, I go out to the living room, where I find Marcus blowing his nose and wiping at his eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah . . . just that drain cleaner smells fucking terrible!” Marcus says, chuckling. “I poured a bottle in each shower, and then the fumes hit me. Felt like something had reached up and grabbed my brain and was pulling it out through my fucking nostrils!”

I go over to the kitchen garbage, where I see the bottles in the trash, and I pick one up, checking the instructions. “Holy shit man, you’re lucky to be alive. This is the industrial grade shit and on the back, it says you’re supposed to wear a ventilator and goggles when you pour it. Where the hell did you get it?”

“Louie’s Plumbing Supply,” Marcus says. “You know, the company owned by Downtown Bootsy’s brother?”

I nod, putting the bottle carefully back in the trash before washing my hands in the sink. Better safe than sorry. I’d like to not dissolve my eyeball next time I get an itch. “Be careful with that shit. And the rest of what you went out for?”

“Streets are still on lock, man. The dealers are ready to pay directly to us, and the street workers are too. The Docks are ours already, and it might take a while, but I think we can get the airport under us quickly too. With some pressure.”

I nod, thinking as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Okay, we’ll focus there. Anything from Jacob?”

“Just what you heard. He’s supposedly raising the money somehow. He’s called in markers with a lot of people. Word is he wants her back bad.”

I shake my head. “Maybe, but I was wrong about her.”

“About Sarah?” Marcus asks as I pour him a cup of coffee and hand it to him. “How so?”

I sit down, trying to separate my logical thoughts from the physical memories of having her pressed against my body, her lips on mine as we kissed in the bathroom. She was perfect, the way her skin felt, the weight of her breast in my hand, the feel of her lips on mine. I’ve had women before, it sort of comes with my position in life. But none of them kissed me the way that Sarah did, and none of them felt the way she did in my arms. Even now, I’m having trouble trying to control the urge to go back to her room and give her what her body demanded, and what my body needs as well. I want to fuck her, to feel her underneath me and to hear her gasp, whining as I set her body on fire. I want to show her what sex really can be, and what it could be. What I want to give her, and what I want to take from her.

“When we talked about snatching her, it was not just to paralyze Jacob. We assumed she was guilty too,” I finally say, sipping my coffee. “But we were wrong. We thought she was involved, that she had to know. You said it yourself.”

“I also said I thought she was too stupid to realize what she’d become involved in,” Marcus recalls. “I talked to her last night, and she isn’t stupid.”

“And a lot more innocent than we are,” I finish.

“She is. Somehow, I never expected that, but she’s the one person in all this who might really be innocent. So what are we doing, Ryker? We could take the money and still not return her to that abusive asshole,” Marcus says, looking thoughtful.

“It ain’t about the money. It never was. It’s about respect and fear,” I reply. “He could go to the governor himself and tell him to hand over the entire state budget, and so long as Jacob’s got respect and fear on his side, the governor’s going to ask if he wants a blowjob along with the cash. No. He might lose a little respect, but I doubt it. If anything, he’s upping the fear levels people have of him. He’s gotta show that he won't let anybody take from him what belongs to him, or else he loses something more important than the damn money. The stakes are getting higher and higher between us each minute, and it’s going to come to blood sooner rather than later.”

“So, what do you want to do?” Marcus asks, and I think, sipping my coffee. It’s hard to think suddenly. All of my thoughts about Jacob are mixed up with my thoughts about Sarah and the way she felt in my arms. It felt so right, but I have to wonder if it was only because she is his. Finally, I come to a conclusion.

“First, no more negotiations. I don’t care if he offers thirty two, sixty four, or a hundred and twenty eight million dollars for her. This is all over, he ain’t getting her back. Fuck him and his money. No, we go after him and take away his respect and fear,” I say harshly, finishing off my coffee. “And I want his four restaurants hit. Not just hit. I want them blown the fuck up. Waters is proud of those fucking restaurants, they’re like his crown jewels when he wants to pretend he’s a legitimate businessman. So we take those away from him. For now though, I’m going to go get a fucking workout in, get rid of some stress.”

I stand up, going to my room where I quickly change. I’ve got my own gym in the basement of the building, so that’s not a problem for security as I leave my bedroom and head toward the elevator. I pause at the door, looking back at Marcus, who’s pulled up a kung fu movie on the computer. “Hey, Marcus?”

“Yeah?” Marcus says, taking out his earbuds. “You want the computer for something first?”

“No, not that. Just . . . what I don’t understand is why he treated her like that if he’s willing to pay up? Why would he treat such a beauty that way?”

Marcus shakes his head, putting his right earbud back in but leaving the video paused. “Beats me. You’re the one who took philosophy and read that Roman fucker and shit. For me, I guess it comes pretty simple.”

“What’s that?” I ask as Marcus turns back to the computer but still pauses to answer.

“Some men are just monsters. Have a good lift.”

Some men are just monsters. He might not be Marcus Aurelius, but my brother says some pretty wise things sometimes.