Devastated

by EM BROWN

  For a brief moment, as his orgasm rattled his bones and burst through his cock, all thought evaporated. A beautiful and blinding bliss overcame him.

  But it never lasted. No matter how many times he sought that destination, he always ended up back where he started.

  “You got yourself a cute little joro,” May said, nursing an umetini in one of the booths near the club’s bar, where Ben joined her after seeing Yuki come and releasing her from the ropes.

  Across from them on a large screen, a scene with two BBWs played. All about the main floor of the club hung cages in which women, mostly or all naked, writhed and posed.

  Of his three sisters, he would only ever attend a sex club with May, the third of the four Lee children, who was currently on an unwanted “break” from her relationship. Their father had never liked the fact that May was gay, and because Ben had had his own issues with the head of the Lee family, he and May had formed a bond growing up.

  Of her siblings, May looked the least like her mother and more like their father, with her round face and flatter nose. She wore her hair short with the tips colored purple.

  “Yuki’s very open to women,” Ben said as he ordered kuusu on ice from the waitress clad in a short kimono that didn’t fully cover her arse.

  May raised her brows. “What happened to ordering water or green tea?”

  “It’s not like I never drink,” Ben replied. “And if you plan on reading things into everything I do, this is the last time I let you accompany me to Tokyo.”

  But May wasn’t afraid of his threats. “We sure are surly since coming home.”

  He gave her a stern stare.

  Still undaunted, May only leaned in closer. Women were like bloodhounds catching the scent of a fox when it came to acquiring knowledge they felt men were withholding from them. “So who was she?”

  “Who?”

  “You had some girl while you were in San Francisco.”

  “I didn’t have anyone,” he replied, then decided to throw her a bone in the hopes that it would be enough to satisfy her curiosity. “She was just a fucktoy.”

  A fucktoy he had called his pet for four, nearly five fucked-up days.

  May sat back and eyed him carefully. “What was her name?”

  The waitress came back with his drink, handing it to him instead of setting it down on the table so that their fingers would have to touch. Noticing, May rolled her eyes.

  “You have a target on your back, brother,” May said. “The girls here probably all think you’re some prospective mitsugu kun... Are you?”

  Her question surprised him. May knew that unless a woman was family, Ben didn’t tend to keep any woman around for long, and he certainly wasn’t anyone’s mitsugu kun, or sugar daddy.

  “This fucktoy in California. What’s her name?”

  “Why do you want to know?” he returned.

  “Just curious.”

  “Liar.” If he gave her a name, she would head straight to the internet to look up all that she could on Kimani Taylor.

  She wrinkled her nose as he imbibed his kuusu, a distilled alcohol not unlike single-malt scotch.

  “The fact that you won’t give up her name means she was more than just a fucktoy,” May shot back.

  “I knew her all of four and a half days. She was just a fucktoy.”

  An expensive fucktoy that had cost him two hundred thousand dollars. After the stunt Jake had pulled, he ought to have asked for his money back, but he didn’t want to have anything more to do with the wanker. And with the net worth of the Lee family at thirteen billion dollars, two hundred thousand was nothing to fret over.

  Except Ben didn’t treat real money like play money. He opted for the finer things in life but had heard enough stories of how his grandparents could only afford to purchase meat for dinner once a week to understand that wealth was something to cherish, not squander on frivolous purchases.

  Paying two hundred thousand dollars to have sex with a woman for a week was frivolous. But it hadn’t felt frivolous at the time. He’d told himself that it was partly because he hadn’t trusted Jake with her. He was being a bloody good Samaritan.

  But that didn’t explain everything. If he had only been acting out of altruism, he could have also purchased Claire, the other woman Jake had bid on and won through the Scarlet Auction. But he had only wanted Kimani. And to seal the deal without any hesitation from Jake, he had offered an exorbitant amount of money.

  “Just like Yuki,” he finished.

  May, however, wasn’t finished. She returned his pointed stare. “Now who’s the liar?”

  He downed the rest of the kuusu and considered calling it night, but May wasn’t done challenging him.

  “Growing up, we told each other everything. You’ve never kept anything from me before.”

  “I don’t tell you about every woman I choose to fuck, and you don’t tell me about every woman you choose to fuck.”

  “True. But if you wanted to know the name of one, I’d tell you.”

  He could see that she wasn’t going to let it go. He breathed out heavily through his noise. “She said her name was Montana.”

  “Isn’t that the name of one of the states? Somewhere in the middle of America?”

  “Bordering Canada.”

  “Is that a real name?”

  “For some people. It wasn’t her real name.”

  May knit her brows in thought. “Was she a hooker?”

  Ben stared without seeing the ice in his glass. “I wish. It turned out she was a reporter. An undercover reporter.”

  “What’s so bad about that? Was she working on a story about you and your BDSM proclivities?”

  He craned his neck to release a crack. “I don’t want to get into the details. Suffice it to say, she might have screwed up Uncle Gordon’s chances of being elected mayor.”

  “How?”

  The waitress returned to see if he wanted another kuusu, but he ordered water instead.

  “I had suggested Ezra Rosenstein and some other local developers form what’s called an I.E., or independent expenditure. In Oakland, there are limits to how much an individual or business can contribute to a candidate, but there are no limits on I.E.s. Ezra agreed to chair the I.E., but he kept communicating with me about it. Kim—Montana got wind of it, and an article was published in the San Francisco Tribune.”

  “What’s the big deal?”

  “It’s against the rules for an I.E. to coordinate with a candidate’s campaign. Because of that article, the state is investigating Uncle Gordon for collusion.”

  Ben cursed himself. If he had been more careful, if he hadn’t let his cock do the thinking—or lack thereof—none of this might have come to pass. He had figured out early on that something was up with Kimani. He had been given ample clues in the beginning, and even when he knew she hadn’t participated in the Scarlet Auction because she was hard up for money, as she had claimed, he’d ignored all the warning signs. His drive to be with her, to share with her all that he could do to her, overrode his better judgment.

  As angry as he was at Kimani, he was angrier at himself.

  “I fucked up,” he muttered.

  May had been silent in thought. “That still doesn’t explain why you won’t say her name. Her real name.”

  Going over everything that had happened with Kimani had agitated him, and he wondered if Yuki was still around. Or maybe his security detail, Bataar, would be willing to spar with him despite the late hour.

  “Because women meddle,” Ben retorted. “They like to play matchmaker and shit like that.”

  “Fine. I won’t deny I’m curious to look up who she is; who’s this slut that got under my brother’s skin.”

  “Anyone who tries to fuck over our family would get under my skin.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve come across dozens of people like that. Remember Cousin Chang? He stole twelve million dollars from the Lee Corporation. You weren’t as pissed about that.”

  “
That’s just money. Uncle Gordon deserves to be mayor.”

  “But you said people had to pressure him to throw his name in the hat. So running for mayor wasn’t something that Uncle was dying to do.”

  Gordon had told Ben that he could return contentedly to his existing job if he lost.

  “It doesn’t matter how it started,” Ben said. “Uncle Gordon is giving it his all. Without doubt, he’s the best candidate for the job. It would benefit everyone if he won.”

  “Not to mention the Lee Corporation and our waterfront development there. Speaking of which, I thought you wanted to head that up because Uncle was running for mayor.”

  Ben stiffened. That had been the primary reason for his stay in San Francisco. That, and to recruit an American baller to play for the Golden Phoenix, the Chinese Basketball Association team sponsored by his father. He had returned empty-handed on that front.

  “Stone in our San Francisco office is the project manager. He can get the job done.”

  “Well, that was always the case, wasn’t it? You opted to be the lead. Now you’re opting out.”

  “Because I’m a liability.”

  “And this Montana has nothing to do with that decision?”

  Why couldn’t women leave well enough alone? He had provided a reasonable explanation, based on business and political practicalities, but a woman had to assume there was more going on.

  He jerked his head in the direction of one of the dancers in the cage nearest to May. “She looks like your type.”

  May looked over. “She’s cute, but I heard she’s a total Iero kyabu.”

  A Iero kyabu, supposedly a reference to the ease with which yellow cabs in New York could be hailed, was someone who allowed herself to get picked up by foreigners.

  “Now about this Montana...” May said.

  At first Ben was glad to hear his mobile ring, but upon seeing the name displayed on it, he frowned. It was Phyllis. Thanks to his conversation with May, he was in no mood to talk to his older sister and decided to let the call go to voicemail.

  Half a minute later, May’s mobile rang.

  “If it’s—” Ben began.

  But May had already answered, “Yes, he’s here.”

  May handed him her mobile, which Ben received with his lips pressed grimly in a line.

  “She said she needed to talk, like it was urgent,” May explained.

  “It’s nice to know you’re avoiding me,” Phyllis said through the phone.

  “I didn’t think it was a good time to talk, given the sort of club I’m at right now,” Ben replied. Phyllis had a vague idea of the sort of establishments Ben visited. Knowing that it was sometimes on behalf of business clients, she looked the other way even though she didn’t approve.

  “Oh.”

  He could her the frown in her tone.

  “Well, we can make this quick,” she said. “You want to tell me more about this latest acquisition?”

  “No.”

  “Huài dàn,” she cursed. “I’m the CFO. You can’t just go around acquiring random business without bringing me into it.”

  “I don’t go around acquiring random business,” he said.

  “Then what is this?”

  “An acquisition, but hardly random.”

  “How is this San Francisco Tribute, a newspaper, not random? What are we going to do with a newspaper? Nowhere in the business plan is there an expansion into media, especially with a company that has posted losses for six consecutive quarters. This makes no sense. Based on what I saw of their financials, there’s no way you can turn this business around and make a profit.”

  “I’m not planning to turn them around,” Ben replied evenly. “I’m shutting them down.”

  Chapter Three

  “Don’t you think it’s from that guy Jake?” Sam asked when Kimani showed him the letter the following day.

  “It’s possible,” Kimani acknowledged as she put the letter away in her desk. “Claire wasn’t too happy that she didn’t get paid by the Scarlet Auction because she didn’t complete her week with Jake, but it doesn’t seem like something she would do. At least she got an emerald ring out of the whole thing, provided Jake didn’t ask for it back. But I don’t think the other women got anything.”

  Somehow, Lisa, the auction participant won by Ben’s cousin, Jason, didn’t strike her as the type of person who would send threatening notes. Kimani would have bet on Ryan, the anti-feminist won by Jake’s buddy, Derek, over Lisa...but Jake was still the most likely culprit. He hated her for sure. She had seen it flaring in his eyes several times, not only when he had thrown her to the floor of his cabin.

  “Are you in touch with the other women?”

  “I only have Claire’s number. Lisa and Ryan don’t want to have anything to do with me.”

  “Jake’s the guy who pulled a gun, and they’re upset at you?”

  “They don’t get paid unless they fulfill the terms of the contract in its entirety. I’m the reason their week got cut short.”

  Sam shook his head. “I don’t understand women. Remember Martha in human resources? She caught her husband cheating with a friend of hers, and the only person she blamed was the other woman. Thank God I knew I was gay early in life.”

  Kimani chuckled despite the unease she had felt ever since receiving the letter. Not wanting to alarm Marissa, she hadn’t shared the letter, but she’d had trouble sleeping last night.

  “You should show the letter to the police,” Sam said.

  “And what would they do with it?” Kimani asked. “I’m sure they’ve got more important matters to handle than figuring out who sent a nasty letter. And all they can do at this point is tell the sender to stop being a bully and writing letters.”

  “It’s too bad Jake posted bail. The guy sounds like he belongs behind bars.”

  At that moment, the phone on her desk rang. Seeing the number was from the Trinity County District Attorney’s Office, she quickly picked up.

  “Kimani,” said the female assistant district attorney, “how are you holding up?”

  “Aside from getting a nasty letter at my house yesterday, I’m okay.”

  “Oh. Was it from Jake?”

  “I’m guessing. Are you calling about him?”

  “Yes, and there’s no easy way to say this, but the D.A. has reached a plea deal with Jake.”

  Kimani frowned. “A plea deal?”

  “After talking with you and all the other witnesses, there just isn’t enough evidence to prove malicious intent.”

  “Seriously?”

  “He claims he was protecting himself and his home from Mr. Lee and Mr. Lee’s bodyguard, whom he called a thug. And given that Mr. Benjamin Lee broke Mr. Vince Donato’s arm, it would seem he had cause for fear. The gun was intended for self-defense.”

  Kimani’s mind reeled. “But he punched me in the face!”

  “And that qualifies as a simple assault, which is a misdemeanor and carries a penalty of up to one thousand dollars or up to six months in prison. If the judge accepts the plea deal, Jake will pay a thousand dollars.”

  “What about jail time?”

  “He won’t serve any.”

  “A thousand dollars is nothing for a guy like him.”

  “I’m sorry. The D.A. felt like this was the best way to go. Otherwise, we’re looking at having to explain the aspects of, you know, BDSM and when the application of pain qualifies as desired versus unwanted, what you and everyone consented to. It just gets really muddy.”

  “So that’s it?”

  “I’m sorry, Kimani. Not to diminish what you suffered, but our jails would be bursting at the seams if we locked up every idiot who threw a punch. Last year, my seven-year-old gave another kid a bloody nose on the school playground. My son won’t ever be doing that again, and I’m sure Jake has learned his lesson.”

  Has he? Kimani questioned internally.

  “Bad news?” Sam asked after Kimani had hung up.

  “Jake and the
D.A.’s office reached a plea deal. He’s going to pay a fine but serve no time.”

  “You could try a civil suit. Sue him for emotional distress.”

  Kimani shook her head and grabbed her handbag. “Not worth it. I’m okay. He’s not the only asshole in this world. And maybe he’ll clean up his act now.”

  She hoped it was true, but deep down, she didn’t believe it.

  “MR. LEE, THANK YOU for meeting with me,” Kimani said as she took a seat opposite Ben’s uncle in the small office of his campaign headquarters, located in an old warehouse that used to house a dance studio. Outside the glass walls of his office, volunteers busily bundled literature pieces, stamped letters, and assembled lawn signs.

  Gordon returned a warm smile. Either he didn’t recognize her as the young woman Ben had brought to lunch with him to the soul food restaurant, or Ben hadn’t told him the part she’d played in sparking the FPPC investigation.

  “It’s Montana, right?”

  “Actually, it’s Kimani Taylor,” she corrected a little sheepishly.

  “My apologies. I’m usually better with names.”

  She didn’t feel right letting him think the error was this. “I let Ben introduce me as Montana the time we had lunch at Maybelle’s. Kimani’s my real name.”

  A brief look of puzzlement crossed his round face, but he didn’t pry. “What can I do for you, Kimani?”

  She took in a deep breath. If Ben hadn’t told his uncle—she wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t have—she needed to come clean and get it off her conscience.

  “I work for the San Francisco Tribune,” she blurted, then waited for his reaction.

  “Ah.” His brows knit briefly in thought. “That’s a very good paper. I hope they’re able to continue their good work for years to come.”

  She blinked several times, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. He didn’t harbor any ill will towards the paper that may have hurt his chances of winning the election?

  “You’re not upset, Mr. Lee?”

  “Please, call me Gordon. What is there to be upset about?”

  “The Tribune ran an article about Oakland Forward, and now you’re being investigated by the FPPC.”