She snorted. “What did your last slave die of? Oh wait. You shunned them.”
“Watch your mouth.” His face hardened. “You have something that belongs to me.” He went to a drawer and pulled out a pristine white handkerchief. The moment he pressed it to his nose, the fabric turned blood red.
As Brother Rick paced away from her, his words registered. Her brow knit. What the heck was he talking about?
She watched him pace back and forth, his head held at an awkward angle to stem the nosebleed. She edged toward the closed door. No matter what nonsense he was spouting, she intended to leave. Her first steps were wobbly, a little tentative.
Brother Rick swiveled toward her, freezing her on the spot. “You’re going to sign the money over to me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re the signatory on the trust.”
She stared at him blankly. “What trust?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Brother Rick tossed the bloody handkerchief aside and advanced on her.
Sorrel’s first instinct was to back up. She forced herself to stand her ground. “Give me details.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You’ve changed.”
“Thank you.”
“Not for the better.”
“I need details. You might jog my memory.” Humor struck her at his pronouncement. Brother Rick was a bully and belittled anyone who attempted to stand up to him. He hadn’t seen anything yet.
“Brother Samuel and your mother concocted a plan to keep the bulk of Children of Nature’s money in a trust for lean times. I didn’t even know about the account until last week when a bank statement turned up.”
Sorrel eyed the door. “What’s that got to do with me?”
“You’re the only one able to withdraw the money.”
Sorrel laughed. She couldn’t help herself. She didn’t know how— No, wait. She’d witnessed Brother Samuel signing several papers. Was it possible? She frowned trying to remember. Her mother had rushed into the workshop while she was trying to make a batch of soap, demanding she come immediately. Alarmed, she’d taken her pot off the heat and run after her mother. There had been nothing wrong with Brother Samuel. He’d been sitting at his desk, his normal smile wreathing his mouth.
“Ah, I’m glad you’re here. I need you to witness my signature,” he’d said in his booming voice.
“Couldn’t Mother have done it?” she’d demanded in exasperation.
“I need her to sign as well.”
Yes, she remembered sighing papers now, recalled asking, “Do I need to read anything? I don’t want my batch of soap to ruin.”
“No, my dear. All you need to do is watch me sign the papers and sign too. It will take a few minutes at most.”
So she’d signed and rushed back to the workshop to save her soap, putting the entire incident to the back of her mind because it hadn’t seemed important. She knew that despite Children of Nature’s self-sufficiency there were times when the outside world intruded with paperwork—things to do with home schooling and census returns, special licenses. She recalled Brother Samuel’s words—never-ending paperwork.
“It’s not funny,” Brother Rick snarled. A dried bit of blood clung to one of his flared nostrils. “I need the money.”
“You need the money?” Sorrel said in a dangerous voice. “If it’s a trust the money belongs to everyone. It’s not yours to spend.”
“Brother Samuel had no right to give the power to a woman.” Venom coated his voice as he pushed his face close to hers. “You will sign it over to me.”
“No.” She didn’t even need to think twice. “I won’t.”
Brother Rick grabbed her arm and shook her.
Sorrel wrenched away. “Get your hands off me.”
His eyes promised retribution, and before she could heed the warning, he backhanded her. Her head snapped back, the crack of palm against skin almost as alarming as the jerk of pain. He grasped her shoulders again, shaking her for a second time, fury a dark slash on his face. “You will give me that money.”
“No,” she backed away, her old fears gripping her for an instant.
The door to Brother Rick’s quarters flew open, startling them both.
“Get out,” Brother Rick snarled without looking over his shoulder.
Brother Felix hovered in the doorway.
But Brother Rick’s concentration was divided, and Sorrel found her mettle again. She shoved him hard, and when he roared, lashing out again, the brief self-defense lesson Jake had given her came back. She stomped on his foot, kicked his knee and headed for the door.
She managed to get past Brother Rick, but he grabbed her from behind, his fingers digging into her upper arms. Sorrel forced herself to relax, to sag against his chest. Then she lifted her right leg and kicked back with her heel, striking into his groin putting every ounce of force she could muster into the move.
He let out a pained howl and a whimper, dropping to a heap, cupping his groin.
“What’s going on?” Jake’s voice.
Sorrel pushed past Brother Felix and fell straight into Jake’s arms.
“They kidnapped me,” she said. “I want to press charges.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jake ignored Brother Rick writhing on the ground and the gaping Brother Felix. He wrapped an arm around Sorrel’s waist and urged her toward her workshop, the only place he could think of where no one was likely to barge in on them. Sorrel would be safe until Luke came to take over.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No, not really. There’s something weird going on though. He’s acting desperate. He needs money for something.”
“Is that all he said?”
Sorrel stopped walking, her gaze on something across the other side of the compound. “What are those?”
Jake exerted enough pressure at her back to make her start walking again. “Brother Rick has visitors.”
“With motorbikes?” She scrunched her nose. “Wait, Janaya said something about gang members. I remember now.”
“Sorrel, not now. Please.” He should have guessed she’d ask questions. She’d gained her independence and relished the lack of personal restraints. It was silly of him to expect her to stuff her newfound freedom back in a box and blindly obey his orders. “Brother Rick invited members of the Rebel Brothers to visit.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. They arrived last night.” He’d watched those guys last night. They had an eye for women. Damn if he intended to let them near his woman. He directed her around the outskirts of the open ground, relaxing when they reached the workshop. Opening the door, he urged her inside.
“Hoy. You.”
“Fuck,” Jake said.
“I’m talking to you,” the hard male voice roared across the compound.
Jake fumbled in his pocket for his phone and shoved it at Sorrel. “Ring Luke. Speed dial two. Tell him we need him now.”
Jake took a deep breath and consciously slumped. He turned to face the two gang members standing in the doorway of the dining room. They didn’t move. Cursing under his breath, he started limping in their direction until he was a few feet from them. “Can I help you with something?”
“Who is the woman?”
Jake glanced over his shoulder. He relaxed a fraction when he saw Sorrel speaking on the phone.
“She’s from the council,” Jake said. “She’s checking the facilities here at the compound to make sure they’re up to standard.”
The compound residents started drifting out, streaming around the two gang members.
“What is Sorrel doing here?” one of the men asked. “Why is she dressed like that?”
“I thought she’d left the compound,” one of the women said.
“You know the woman?” a third gang member asked.
Jake didn’t appreciate the way this was going.
The first man focused on Jake. “Why did you lie?”
Not good at all.
“Could it be,” the man continued, “you have an attachment to this woman?”
Jake didn’t reply. Instead he prayed for reinforcements to arrive soon because this had the makings of another clusterfuck.
* * * * *
Sorrel’s hand trembled as she pushed speed dial.
“Morgan,” Luke barked.
“It’s Sorrel. I’m at the compound. Jake said you should get your butts here now.”
“We’re on our way already,” Luke said. “Five minutes.”
Sorrel shoved the phone into the waistband of her skirt.
“Girlie, over here,” one of the gang members hollered.
More people spilled from the dining hall at his yell. More gang members. Their presence screamed something illegal when combined with Brother Rick’s weird behavior. She hesitated, gut instinct telling her cooperating would be a bad idea.
“Don’t make me come and get you.”
The warning in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Bother, she should have hidden. She eyed the gates to the compound then the big bald man in scruffy jeans and leather vest. Anger bristled off him in waves. Her gaze drifted to the gates again.
Maybe it wasn’t too late to run. She was off, sprinting toward the entrance before the thought half formed.
“Stop.” An angry shout from him whipped her fear. She didn’t slacken pace. Her feet pounded the gravel path, her heart pounded, fear giving her an extra edge of speed.
“Open the gates,” she screamed at the two elderly security guards. As usual they moved at the pace of runny honey on a cold day. One of them exited the small shelter to the side and stood, staring at her.
Sorrel kept running, kept screeching at them.
The roar of a motorbike split the air. Sorrel gasped, saw the bike with the rider leaning low when she risked a glance over her shoulder. Even from this distance, anger emanated off him. She reached the gates and started climbing, fervently wishing she’d donned her new pair of comfortable jeans. The sound of the bike grew louder, meaner, until it vibrated inside her head. Danger. Danger. Danger.
The bike screeched to a stop. A dust cloud clogged her throat. She coughed and kept moving. Rough hands grabbed her just as she swung her leg over the top. She struggled, kicked, but to no avail. The man grasped her by the waist and hoisted her down as if she weighed nothing more than a batch of bath bombs.
“What have we here?” he rasped in her ear.
His breath wafted over her, the blast of garlic telling her everyone had dined on lasagna during their recent meal.
“Girlie, where have you been hiding?” He hauled her toward his motorbike.
“If you think I’m getting on that you’ve got rocks in your head,” she snapped before she could think better of the remark. She closed her eyes, heart still trying to burrow out of her chest. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to channel Janaya and Alice.
When he reached his bike, he kept an iron grip on her wrist. He straddled the machine without releasing her. “You will get on my bike behind me. You will hold on to me because I’d hate you to fall off and graze this pretty skin.” His finger traveled up one of her arms and skipped to her upper chest, impudently slipping downward into her cleavage.
Sorrel held still, instinctively knowing if she disobeyed him the situation would worsen. She gave a clipped nod of acknowledgement.
“Girlie, I can tell we’re going to get on well together.”
Luke had said five minutes. Where in stars was he?
The man patted the seat behind him. Sorrel eyed it with disfavor. Yeah, those jeans were looking good right now. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her leg and swung it over the bike.
“Matching black panties,” the man purred. “Sexy.”
She didn’t enjoy the way he was eyeing her like a luscious treat, designed to his specifications. She’d much prefer the anger he’d displayed when he’d hollered after her.
The bike took off with a roar. Sorrel let out a shriek and clutched his waist. She heard his laughter as he guided the bike across the compound to the dining room.
Thankfully, it was a quick trip. She scrambled off the bike the instant it stopped, attempting to wriggle free of his grip.
“You’re coming with me,” he said gruffly, his eyes gleaming with heat. Sexual heat.
Sorrel gave another futile tug for freedom. “No,” she said loudly. “I won’t.”
Silence fell, scary in its nothingness.
Jake scowled at the man. “She said no. Let her go.”
The man ignored her objections, ignored Jake and started towing her toward the men’s sleeping quarters. “I’m going to fuck the feistiness out of you, girlie.”
“No,” Sorrel said.
“Get your hands off her,” Jake snarled, advancing two steps.
Before he could reach the big man holding her captive, two of the other bikers grabbed him. Sorrel struggled, and Jake fought to help her, despite the two men impeding him.
Sister Andrea appeared from the kitchen entrance of the dining hall, a pot in hand. “Sorrel, what—” She broke off abruptly. “You let her go.”
“What are you going to do about it?” The man holding Sorrel captive snickered.
Sister Andrea fired the heavy pot at his head. It hit with a resounding thump. Sorrel jerked free and turned to flee. The man let out a wounded-bull roar and charged Sister Andrea.
Another pot flew through the air, fired by another one of the sisters who’d appeared behind Sister Andrea.
Suddenly the mood of the crowd changed. Instead of cowering, they flocked around the gang members, overwhelming them by sheer numbers and inventiveness when it came to weapons. Rolling pins, sandals and more pots were lobbed through the air.
A siren became audible in the distance. Strong arms surrounded her, and she whipped around ready to fight.
“Steady, sweetheart,” a familiar voice said. Blood trickled down his cheek from a nick above his left eyebrow. He drew her to a clear space near the exterior dining room wall. “Are you okay?”
“Maybe a bruise or two.”
“I’m proud of you,” he whispered against her ear.
“Why?” Despite her confusion, warmth built in her chest, a small spark of pleasure. No one had ever been proud of her before.
“You fought back,” he said simply.
Three police vehicles arrived and the security men moved with alacrity to let them inside the compound. Luke and the other policemen soon had the gang members subdued.
Brother Rick appeared behind them. “What is going on here?” he asked, the strident voice of authority. He approached in a gingerly manner, his slight limp raising a smile in Sorrel. Go, her.
Luke approached him with confidence inherent in his every move. “You’re under arrest for the kidnapping of Sorrel Thyme.”
“I didn’t kidnap her. Look, she’s standing over there. Bitter. Bitter!”
Sorrel’s eyes narrowed. “My name is Sorrel, and I want to press charges. He grabbed me in town, drugged me and brought me here without my consent. He tried to force me to sign a document so he could spend the funds the Brother Samuel set aside for the benefit of the people who live in the compound.” She paused to take a breath, anger like a serpent slithering through her veins.
“She’s lying.”
“I am not. I also suspect him of poisoning Brother Samuel.”
“That’s a lie.”
“You’ve treated me like a slave. Why have you encouraged everyone else to treat me in the same manner?”
“She’s lying,” Brother Rick spat. “My father ate poisonous mushrooms by mistake. Others were sick too.”
“I might not be able to prove what I’m saying, but I know the truth in my heart.”
The members of Children of Nature had fallen silent, listening to everything Sorrel said. Now they started low murmurs of discontent.
“I knew I didn’t put poisonous mushrooms in my stew,” Sister Andrea said with an emphatic
nod.
A dull fan of red moved up Brother Rick’s throat. “Surely you’re not going to listen to her. She’s lying. Look at her.” He appealed to the brothers and sisters. “She’s gone against every one of our beliefs. She’s sold out.”
“You forced her out,” Sister Andrea said. “The chickens are treated better than Sorrel. You made sure she ate no more than once a day. You instructed us to call her Bitter, and you worked her hard to keep the store stocked with products.”
“Aye, and you told us to sell everything at a dollar each so she had to work even more to keep up with demand,” another sister called. “The stallholder in Papakura was furious when he couldn’t buy more cheap stock to sell at the market.”
“Take him away,” someone else called.
“We’re better off without him.”
“He brought those men here.”
“He made me sleep with one of them,” a young girl said.
Luke hauled Brother Rick away, still protesting his innocence. The crowd continued to throw complaints after him. The other officers dealt with the gang members.
“Where is Brother Felix?” Sorrel asked.
“I haven’t seen him.” Jake kept his arms loosely circled around her, giving Sorrel a sense of safety and support. “Don’t worry. Luke will catch all the culprits. He’s good at his job. Are you ready to leave?”
“I’ll just grab my mother’s books from the office,” Sorrel said. “And my recipe book from the workshop.”
Jake took her hand and turned in the direction of the office.
“Are you going?” Sister Andrea asked.
“As soon as I get my mother’s books,” Sorrel said.
“I thought you’d stay and help us regain our original form and intent,” Sister Andrea said.
“No, I have a job now. I’m ready for change.”
“But what will we do?” another sister asked. “We need a leader.”
“You do,” Sorrel said. “But it won’t be me. You need a man or woman who treats everyone as equal, someone who is open and transparent in their dealings. Have a meeting. Everyone interested in the job should toss their names in a hat then hold an election.”
“Yes,” Sister Andrea said, her gaze on the distant horizon, her brow puckered as if she were involved in heavy thinking. “Yes,” she mused. “I’m tired of following the orders of a man, tired of the way we’ve been treated. I think we should have a female leader for a change. We need to make money. How will we do that?”
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