Dealing with the Devil
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Copyright 2020 Monica Clayton
Published by M.E. Clayton
All Rights Reserved
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. The entire content is a product of the author’s imagination and all names, places, businesses, and incidences are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), places or occurrences, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner, whatsoever, without the express written consent from the author, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Formatting: Smashwords
Cover: Adobe Stock
Warning: This book contains sexual situations and other adult themes. Recommended for 18 years of age and over.
Table of Contents
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Author's Note
Contact Me
Dedication
Prologue
1. Cassius
2. Devi
3. Cassius
4. Devi
5. Cassius
6. Devi
7. Cassius
8. Devi
9. Cassius
10.Devi
11. Cassius
12. Devi
13. Cassius
14. Devi
15. Cassius
16. Devi
17. Cassius
18. Devi
19. Cassius
20. Devi
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Books
Newsletter Sign-Up!
Author’s Note
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Just a couple of things before I let you go and get your read on. While I am doing my best to work with better editing and proofreading software, all my books are solo, independent works. I write my books, proofread my books, edit my books, create the covers, etc. I have one beta who gives me feedback on my stories, but other than that, all my books are independent projects.
That being said, I apologize, in advance, for the typos, grammar inconsistencies, or any other mistakes I may make. Since writing is strictly a hobby for me, I haven’t looked into commitments in regard to publishers, editors, etc. My hope is that my stories are enjoyable enough that a few mistakes, here and there, can be overlooked. However, if you’re a stickler for grammar, my books are probably not for you.
Also, I am an avid reader-I mean an AVID reader. I love to read above any other hobby. However, the only downside to my reading obsession is when I fall in love with a series, but I have to wait for the additional books to come out. And because I feel that disappointment down to my soul, when I started publishing my works, I vowed to publish all books in my series all at once. No waiting here…LOL. Now, the exception to that will be if enough readers request additional stories based off the standalone, such as in Facing the Enemy. At that point, if I decide to move forward with a requested series, I will make sure all additional books are available all at once. As much as this is a hobby for me, I am writing these books for all of you, as well as myself.
Thank you, for everything!
Contact Me
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I really appreciate you reading my book and I would love to hear from you! Now, unfortunately, because I do have a full-time job, and a family I love spending time with, at this time, I’m afraid it would be very hard for me to maintain a multitude of social media sites. However, for the sites I do participate in, here are my social media coordinates:
Visit my Website at:
meclayton2016.wixsite
Like my Facebook Author Page at:
meclayton books
Follow my Instagram Author Page at:
author.meclayton
Email me at:
[email protected]
Dedication
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For Kim –
The hero in this book doesn’t have a plane, or property all along the Eastern Seaboard,
or homes in Malibu and Hawaii, or a family hotel in New Orleans,
or eighteen college degrees, or is eligible to collect Social Security.
But he does have the back and arm strength for wall sex,
and he does have a nine-inch penis.
So, you’re just going to have to make do with that.
Prologue
“You have no idea how it pains me to have to do this.”
Alvin was lying.
Keith knew this.
Alvin got off on this kind of shit. If Alvin wasn’t a piece of white trash from the East Side of Rockford, Keith imagined Alvin would be a Mob enforcer if he’d ever had the good fortune to be recruited by the Mob. However, Alvin didn’t have the class or discipline to ever catch the Mob’s eye, so Alvin’s success was his own. Small in comparison, but his own, nonetheless.
Another boot to the back had Keith scrambling to protect whatever part of his body he could. Were they going to kill him? He wasn’t sure. But he wouldn’t be surprised if they did.
Thirty-thousand dollars was a lot of money.
But had that goddamn jockey not pulled the reins too soon, Keith wouldn’t be in this mess. He would have cashed in and been able to get even. He even would have been able to pay Devi back all the money she’s lent him over the years.
Instead, he was facing down Alvin, and even if they did let him live, it wasn’t like he had the money to pay him back. His job as a freelance mechanic didn’t bring in that kind of money. Neither did Devi’s waitressing job.
“I just can’t keep letting you slide, Keith,” Alvin said, his voice finding its way through the sounds of kicks and punches, coughing and bones breaking. “It sets a bad precedence.” Another kick to the back. “You understand, right?”
Keith couldn’t say much through the pain, but even if he could, what was there to say? Alvin didn’t lend his money behind a professional desk in a legitimate office building. No. Alvin lent his money from his office located in the back of an electronics store.
Suddenly, everything stopped. However, it wasn’t a reprieve. Keith knew better. This wasn’t the first time he’s been in this situation with Alvin, so he knew better.
Fingers fisting in his hair, Keith’s head was jerked upward, blood splashing outward with the motion. Only one eye was capable of opening enough to focus, and Keith’s one blue eye was met with Alvin’s face, staring down at him.
“Since you’re one of my most loyal customers, I’m going to give you three weeks, Keith,” Alvin told him generously. “One week for each ten, and I’ll even wait until the end of this week to start the countdown.” Alvin grinned at him. “That’s an extra two days.” Keith saw Alvin look up and around at his henchmen. “That’s rather kind of me, don’t you guys think?” There were murmurs and grumbles of agreement overhead, but Keith’s mouth was too broken up to comment.
Alvin let Keith’s head drop with a thud before standing up. “Get him up,” he ordered, and Keith could feel a pair of gigantean hands lift him to his feet. However, a chair was brought over because everyone in the room knew he wouldn’t be able to stand on his own.
Slumping into the chair, Keith was able to make out Alvin leaning against the edge of hi
s desk, his arms crossed over his chest. Alvin wasn’t a big guy by any means, but he was an undiagnosed psychopath, and his lack of remorse is what has gotten him to where he is today.
Glancing around the room, he commanded his men to leave. “Leave us alone for a moment, gentlemen.” Keith heard the shuffling of feet, but he didn’t have the energy to look around.
The room was silent, and just like having been in this situation before, Keith’s been in this room many times before; sometimes asking for money, sometimes paying back money, and sometimes bleeding on the floor.
“I’m willing to make a deal with you, Keith,” he offered, and even through the pain of such a severe beating, Keith could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise in dread.
“Wh…wut…ind of de…eal?” Keith managed to ask.
Alvin’s ice-blue eyes speared him with a look before making his offer. An offer he believed Keith had no choice but to accept. “I’ll void your debt, Keith. I’ll wipe it completely from the books in exchange for your sister.”
Keith’s chest felt like it’d just been kicked in, and that was saying something since it had been kicked in several times tonight. “Wh…ut?”
“Three nights,” Alvin replied. “Ten-grand for each one. Or I kill you at the end of three weeks.”
If Keith could talk, he’d tell Alvin to just kill him now, and get it over with.
Chapter 1
Cassius~
I looked out through the bulletproof glass walls, and the restaurant was pleasantly packed. Atticus and Xavier were seated with me, so behind the glass it was.
Whenever I made a public appearance with my brother, I always took precautions. If anything ever happened to me, as my only family, Atticus would stand to inherit everything I owned. Someone taking us out at the same time was more of a coupe than someone taking me and Xavier out at the same time. As my right-hand man, Xavier knew damn near everything there was to know about me, but while he would inherit a lot if I met an untimely demise, his inheritance didn’t match that of my brother’s.
Atticus and I were extremely close. Not even a year apart, our mother had popped us out, one right after the other. At thirty-one, Atticus was thirty, and for one month out of the year, we were both the same age.
Now, when I say my brother was the only family I had, that wasn’t to say we were orphans. Our parents were very much alive.
I think.
I stopped keeping tabs on Corey and Anita Sire years ago. A drunken mechanic and a cocaine-snorting nail tech, our parents were the very definition of deadbeats. It was another reason why Atticus and I were so close.
“Sheryl Brass came slithering around The Orchestra yesterday,” Atticus said before cutting into his medium rare ribeye steak. “She’s got it bad for you, Cass.”
Sheryl Brass was a tall, legs-for-days, sexy blonde that had all the right curves, all the right wrapping, and all the right shamelessness. However, I wasn’t one to be distracted, blinded, or manipulated by pussy, no matter how talented it was. And while I had nothing against the woman in general, I’d been in the VIP section of The Orchestra when she first made an appearance on the scene.
She’d been invited in, drank the free alcohol, danced with the other girls, and had kept herself entertained by sucking some dick, riding some dick, and at one point in the night, she’d done both at the same time.
Now, don’t get me wrong. She hadn’t been the only female being passed around that night, and I didn’t judge how anyone got their rocks off, but I wasn’t big on sharing. It was a matter of health concerns more than anything else. I was very attached to my dick, and I wasn’t going to risk it rotting off for some sex. Especially, when I could get prime pussy any damn time I wanted.
Prime pussy was the kind that made money off that treasure between their legs, and the only way you could keep making money off it was to keep it clean. Besides, paying for it guaranteed no drama after the deed was done.
“She’s not my type,” I semi-lied. I’ve had my fair share of blondes with big tits, long legs, and flexible joints, so it wasn’t her appearance that was the problem. It was eagerness for anyone’s dick that was the problem.
On the left side of me, Xavier snorted. “That’s what condoms are for, Cass.”
I glanced at my friend, and smirked. “You’re so full of shit,” I replied. “You’re more picky about where you stick your dick than I am.”
“I’m not picky,” he lied. “I’m selective.”
Xavier Loftus was six-foot-four of conditioned muscle. We were the same age, but where Xavier had dark brown hair, brown eyes, and dark mocha-colored skin, I was six-foot-two with dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and though I was Caucasian, I was lucky enough to have some color to my skin and not have that pasty white complexion that burned easily. And sometimes, looking over at Atticus, it was like looking in a mirror. We looked alike enough that people often took one of us for the other. Only one inch separated us in height.
“I just don’t trust her,” Atticus tossed out after swallowing his bite of steak. “Not saying you’re not a handsome guy, Cass, but…I don’t know. It’s like she’s trying too hard, or something.”
“Lots of women try hard to get your brother’s attention,” Xavier pointed out.
“I know, but…this feels different,” he replied. “The woman is giving me sketchy vibes.”
“I can handle Sheryl Brass, Atty,” I told him. “But if it makes you feel better, you have my permission to do a full background check on her.”
“Yeah?” I chuckled at the glee in his voice. Atticus had a love for research and academia. The kid had a hell of a brain inside that thick skull of his.
“While I don’t think Sheryl Brass is an issue, I’m not going to discount your intuition. Our instincts exist for a reason.”
We ate in peace for a few minutes, the bulletproof glass tinted as a one-way mirror, allowing us to enjoy our dinner. While no one could see inside the private dining room, many diners had seen me walking in with Atticus and Xavier as we’d made our way to the room. Any one of them could have sent a text or made a phone call to one of my enemies, letting them know I was here.
Of course, the room had a back entrance, and we were always strapped, and it would be a bloodbath if anyone dared to come after us, but I really just wanted to enjoy a nice meal with my family tonight.
And while I didn’t have a lot of enemies, I had enough to make sure I was always aware of my surroundings. I was a successful businessman with a few legitimate businesses on the books, but more illegitimate ones filling my bank accounts.
“How are things going with Pryce?” I asked my brother after a while.
There was a surefire smile in his response. “We’re good.”
Pryce Switzer was as close to a girlfriend as Atticus has ever gotten. A confirmed bachelor, Atticus hasn’t been in a committed relationship since we were in high school. We’d had priorities once we’d been forced into the real world of adulthood, and love hadn’t been on the list of things to do during those early years, when we’d been finding our way. Survival had been at the top of the list, and it’s remained there all these years later.
But last year, Atty had met Pryce when she had gone into The Symphony, asking for an application for a job. She’d just moved to town, and she’d been looking for a job. Atticus had been at the bar as she filled out the application, and they had struck up a conversation where Atticus had ended up asking her out.
She had turned him down.
And when she had cited all the reasons why finding a job was more important than finding a date, Atticus had been so impressed, he had stalked her for two months before she had finally said yes. However, it hadn’t been that hard to stalk her since she had gotten the job. And to Atty’s credit, he had stayed out of it and had let Kelsey Horne, my restaurant manager, do the interview and hire Pryce without any influence from him.
There was also the bonus that, with Pryce being new to town, she’d had no clue who Attic
us was, so her interest in him had been genuine. A woman who had no clue who he was and who had wanted to earn her own money had been akin to a unicorn in our world. Atticus had snatched her up, and they’ve been dating ever since. And he was faithful to her. All the tits and ass that was thrown at him all the time, Atty was faithful to her. He just wasn’t ready to write it all in cement yet.
Xavier, on the other hand, liked being single. The only thing I didn’t understand about him was that he only dated Black women. I knew he had an appreciation for all women, but I’ve only ever seen him hookup with Black women. And it was odd to me when a man was that specific.
Now, me? I treasured all women. I didn’t have a preference where they were concerned. Other than the preferred arrangement where they got me off before they took my money, I didn’t care what kind of woman the service sent over. Black, White, Asian, Indian, short, tall, average, skinny, thick, petite, blonde, brunette, redhead, or with rainbow-colored goddamn hair, I didn’t care. When you were in it for sex only, the rest of the package didn’t matter.
And any guy who didn’t think all women were beautiful was a fucking idiot. I didn’t care how ugly or fat society claimed a woman to be, all women had something to offer a man who didn’t have his head stuck up his ass.
“That’s good,” I said. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Speaking of women,” Xavier chimed in, “Kimberly Alba put in an official request to speak with Kelsey about something.”
“Kimberly Alba,” I murmured, trying to place the name.
“She’s a server at The Opera,” Atticus supplied.
“Do you know why?” I asked Xavier. I was a micromanaging sonofabitch, and I had my eyes and ears open to everything that happened in my world.
“She barely put in the request today,” he said. “I’m heading over there after dinner to ask around.”
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