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  Dear Reader:

  Shakir Rashaan introduced readers to his brand of erotica with his Chronicles of the Nubian Underworld series. A practitioner of Atlanta’s BDSM and Fetish community, the author offers a real-life portrayal of this world in his works.

  His Kink, P.I. series continues with Reckoning, the third installment. The debonair detective Dominic Law returns to solve a couple of gruesome murders, including one that hits close to home. Along his trail, he encounters a nemesis, who places his own life in danger as well as those he holds dear. Sit back and enjoy the suspenseful ride brimming with Dominant/submissive relationships and love triangles. With the story’s many twists, subplots and surprises, readers will keep guessing the identity of the culprits.

  To find out how it all starts with Detective Law, check out the excerpt in the back of this book from Obsession, Book One in the Kink, P.I. series.

  As always, thanks for supporting myself and the Strebor Books family. We strive to bring you the most cutting-edge, out-of-the-box material on the market. You can find me on Facebook @AuthorZane or you can email me at [email protected].

  Blessings,

  Publisher

  Strebor Books

  www.simonandschuster.com

  Vengeance is in my heart,

  Death in my hand,

  Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.

  —William Shakespeare

  For my Beloved…

  It sounds like I’m repeating myself, but it never gets old when I say it…

  You are, and always will be, the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This never gets old…six books and counting, and it feels like the first time every time!

  Let’s get the particulars out of the way, shall we?

  Unlike my Nubian Underworld series, these books are a complete work of fiction, although I have taken some stories that are pertinent to what I wanted to bring to light in that moment, and Reckoning is no different. There are characters that you know and love (and hate LOL), and there are some that you have been newly introduced to, but what else is new, right?

  I feel like we’re family after going through so many books with you, but let’s do this anyway.

  With Reckoning, as usual, I took a few cases and put my usual twist on them, making sure the persons would remain nameless and faceless. I did things a little differently this time, and I’m honestly worried about what you might think about everything that has happened in this installment. Hell, Dom is still a little irritated with me, but I can’t do anything about that. Sometimes, things happen, and for every action, there is an equal, opposite reaction. This one hurt to pen together, trust me on that, and you’ll find out why soon enough.

  I have to get this part out of the way, if for no other reason than the fact that it takes a lot of people to put books together, and a lot of the times, it takes a support system to help push the artist in the direction they need to go.

  As always, I couldn’t have done this book without my Beloved. I haven’t run out of things to say that could express how much your support and faith in my talent mean to me. This is nowhere near over with, and it should be more interesting in the future. I love you.

  To my mother and sister, I love you dearly. Hopefully by now, I’ve gotten the hang of this to the point to where you know what’s coming, but I still manage to find a twist or two that even you two never saw coming.

  To my boss, Zane, for your continued support of my literary endeavors, I can never thank you enough for letting me roar in my own unique way. I hope to continue to give you quality heat and the passion that I have in me with each passing project.

  To my editor, Charmaine, I know every so often you have those “what in the world has he done now” looks when you go through my projects. Thank you for making me look even better than I already look. You are truly a treasure to behold.

  To my agent, N’Tyse, none of this professional stuff would have been possible without your help and guidance. Don’t worry, He’s not done with my creativity yet, so you know I’ve got some new stuff coming.

  I’m going to end this in the usual fashion because I still have more projects to finish, burning up the pages and then some (but you’re used to me by now, right?), and I know I’m missing a whole gang of folks, so just do me a favor and insert your name in this next statement:

  I’d like to thank _________________________ for the support and love. I hope to continue to put books out that you will want to tell your friends and family about.

  Thank you for reading, and God Bless you.

  SPECIAL NOTE TO READERS

  The grammatical errors that you might see within the dialog between the characters are not oversights. This is the type of speech and text that is used in some facets of the BDSM world. As one of my submissive friends put it, “The lowercase letters in a slave’s or submissive’s name are a demonstration of the hierarchical relationship. It is a reminder to the submissive that he or she is the bottom part of the hierarchy, meant to be led, and the Dominant’s name is always capitalized, as He or She is the Top part, meant to lead.” In keeping with the essence of the series and the essence of the BDSM community, preserving the speech was paramount. It is my hope that you, the reader, will understand and appreciate the symbolism.

  PROLOGUE

  “I didn’t do it! I swear it wasn’t me!!!”

  He pleaded for his life in that moment, but mere moments ago, he shouted to the deity he prayed to as his pain-pleasure threshold was being pushed to levels never before realized. His play-partner-turned-captor waited patiently to flip the switch, realizing the time drew near to close the curtains on the scene…permanently.

  Being a masochist, he didn’t process the extreme pain and bloodletting as anything more than the orgasm-inducing experience he’d been looking forward to for the past month. His endorphins spiked to euphoric levels, providing the out-of-body experience he would brag about to the other masochists in the submissive male group he belonged to for at least the next upcoming months. He would be the envy of his peers, wearing more than a few badges of honor as vestiges of time well spent.

  The last thing he suspected was the scene of his dreams turning into a nightmare of epic proportions.

  “You’re going to pay for the decision you made.” The scowl on the face of his tormentor should have been enough to instill the genuine fear that washed over him, and it was in that moment that he realized the fantasy was over, but the reality was beyond any conscionable comprehension. “You took someone I loved more than anyone on this planet. I’m going to make you all pay.”

  The gravity of the situation weighed more than the chains that were originally used to tie and bind the so-called helpless victim. The fear of the unknown was palpable, but what had him paralyzed more than anything else was the lack of an answer to the scariest question of all: am I going to die tonight?

  Abraham Lincoln once said, “We all owe God a debt, and the debt that all men pay is death.” He stared into the eyes of the debt collector, the person who would be the one who ensured he would never see another day of his life, to never see the next sunrise.

  “I didn’t do anything, all I did was what I am supposed to do. I’m an assistant district attorney, dammit! She broke the law!” If he was going to go, he wasn’t about to go out like a scared little bitch, pleading for his life. As much as he tried
, his mind was too far gone to process the wounds on his body as a credible threat to his life. It didn’t stop him from voicing his anger over the cryptic turn of events. “I made the decision based on the evidence, motherfucker! I’ll be damned if I let someone tell me I did differently!”

  “You made your decision when you breached protocol to have my Domina incarcerated, and all over bullshit.” The icy stare coming from his captor turned more menacing by the second.

  “She didn’t do anything that bitch boi didn’t ask for, and you know it!”

  “She raped me, too!” He blurted out the information he swore he would never tell another soul once Mistress Edge was sentenced and sent to prison. “I was not about to let her get away with it! Fuck you!”

  The intensity increased once finely sharpened steel plunged into pliable flesh, leaving the victim in the position of not knowing whether to scream out in pain or ecstasy as his brain found it increasingly difficult to decipher between the two. His rational brain should have recognized the imminent threat, but the pleasure centers clouded that deduction. Even the sight of more blood than usual wasn’t enough to activate the fight-or-flight mechanism.

  Despite his cries, his tormentor treated them as nothing more than a dead man’s final requests before he ended his life.

  “Please don’t kill me…please don’t stop…I don’t want to die!” The conflict flashed across his face as the words descended into unintelligible slurs, soon to be replaced by gurgles and the coughing of blood. His eyes conveyed the fear and confusion in his mind as he recognized the finality of his life being extinguished. He wasn’t ready to go, but that choice was no longer his to make.

  His killer took one look into the eyes of one of the people who had taken his Domina away from him. He remembered the frantic phone call he’d received while tending to business overseas. He remembered the fear in her tone as she’d told him she had been sentenced. Those sounds would haunt him the rest of his life.

  “You’re going to die, of that you can be sure.” Tears flowed from his eyes as his thoughts moved to the phone call he received months later from the women’s prison. The warden expressed her regrets as she informed him that his precious Domina had been killed in a cafeteria riot. He looked down at his helpless victim as he took stock of the life flowing out of the body he’d been torturing for hours. “An eye for an eye: isn’t that what the ‘good book’ says?”

  He didn’t realize while he reminisced that the victim had already departed from this realm and journeyed to the next. Once aware of the expulsion, he shouted skyward in a symbolic gesture to his Domina. He’s on his way for You to torture, my Domina. More will be on the way soon.

  He stood there for a few moments as he contemplated his next move. Although they weren’t far from where he wanted to stage the final scene, time worked against him. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be enough. It was the first in a series of unfortunate events that would conclude with his final objective: taking everything from Dominic Law, including his very life.

  He wouldn’t rest until he dispatched everyone who had a hand in her death, but he would save Dominic for last. He wanted his new nemesis to feel what he felt when she was taken from him. Before it would be said and done, he would derive the ultimate pleasure in watching the hope drain from his eyes before he put him out of his misery.

  It wouldn’t bring her back to him, but it was one helluva start.

  ONE

  “Damn, baby, get it…take that pussy!”

  Tori had her ass on full display, assuming a doggie-style position, wet pussy for me to appreciate and penetrate. It was a long-awaited reward for removing some unwanted “trash” from her front door.

  Actually, I had the FBI to thank for that, but she didn’t have to know all the details. I was ready, willing, and able to take all the credit, and the spoils that came with it, too.

  “Is it good to you, baby?” Her body swayed provocatively, giving me a tantalizing view, fueling my aggression even more than I originally thought was possible. She felt my energy on her, pulsing through her, seemingly giving her life as she took every stroke I had to give to her.

  My answer came in the form of her walls being penetrated balls deep; I felt her squirm to adjust to my girth as I slid in and out of her sex with the force of a jackhammer. She rotated her hips to get a better grip on me, squealing at the sounds of the growls escaping my lips as I inhaled the primal scent in the air.

  Yeah, she’d make a good slut to use when I needed her, but I needed her for more than that; she’s my all-access pass to the underground network. If this was what was needed to keep that pass current, then she was going to get worn out six ways to Sunday for as long as my body could hold out.

  Her moans became more primal, begging me to fuck her harder. She felt so slick, so wet, and yet she was so damn tight it was crazy. It was almost euphoric, until another surprise came out of nowhere.

  Tori felt slight stinging sensations across her ass cheeks and her lower back as I slowed down a bit. They didn’t hurt, but they were definitely noticeable, even while being fucked. She looked back for reassurance, meeting my eyes with uncertainty. The smile that greeted her calmed her down immediately as I held up a vat. “Relax, sexy, it’s only wax. Now, work my dick while I drip it all over you.”

  “Damn, D, you know I like that freaky shit.” She struggled to breathe, working her hips and trembling as each drop of wax from the vat of wax I held in my hand landed all over her cappuccino-colored skin. She kept rolling her hips as the sensation became surreal for her. “Shit, you’re gonna make me come…keep doing that…shit, yeah, keep doing that. I’m gonna come.”

  I was near my own climax and I needed to delay it. She wasn’t getting away that easily. She needed to know who was in charge here. I pulled her up close to me by the hair, this time angrily whispering in her ear, “Whose pussy is this, bitch?”

  “It’s yours, D, it’s yours. Take it, D!!!!”

  “Then come on my dick now, and you better not hold back. Make me want to fuck you again,” I commanded.

  “Ohhhhhhh fuck, I’m coming!!!! Oh, my God, I feel it…harder, D, please!!!” Her body tensed, and she buried her face into the rug and screamed as wave after wave swept over her with a fury she wasn’t quite ready for. Tori finally collapsed on the rug, still going through the aftershocks of the orgasm that she had just experienced.

  But I wasn’t done with her…yet.

  I was just about to dive back in as I watched her ass wiggle and gyrate in the air, begging me to take her some more, when the familiar chime that let me know my partner was calling broke through the whimpers and coos escaping from Tori’s lips.

  “Yes, Sir, what can I do for you?” I asked as I tried to mask the shallowness in my breathing.

  “I hate bothering you when you’re otherwise engaged, especially on a pseudo day off, but we got a call from Niki.” Ramesses sounded business-like as usual, changing my mood in an instant. “The way she sounded, it might be something we need to take a look at.”

  “Give me the rundown.”

  “Okay, according to Niki’s detectives, they were called to the scene by a convenience store owner, where the body of an unidentified black male was found dumped in the bushes behind the store.” He ran through the notes he read from, giving me the suspicion that he had a longer conversation than he originally let on. “The description they have is he was wearing jeans, a black T-shirt, white socks and black leather work boots. She and Trish couldn’t find any ID on him, but they are still searching the crime scene. Tire tracks and footprints can be seen in the dirt near his body.”

  “I don’t get it, Sir; it sounds like routine homicide; why are they calling us in on this?” I inquired as I watched Tori continue to writhe and grind against her fingers, trying her best to distract me. “What’s the angle?”

  “Well, kid, the angle is the convenience store where the body was found is about a mile away from NEBU.” Ramesses finally leveled with me.
“This one’s close to home this time, Dominic. I think this could be a problem that we need to handle as soon as possible. If we don’t stay on top of this…I don’t think I need to remind you of the consequences.”

  He wasn’t kidding. It was close to home. It could be nothing, but it could be something, especially if the body was found so close to the compound. There could be a possibility that it was a current member, which could be bad for business if anyone found out about it.

  There was only one way to find out what we were dealing with.

  “I’ll meet you at the scene in twenty minutes, Sir,” I stated quickly. Tori was still waiting to be taken again, and if I was about to deal with a homicide, I needed my mind clear. “Better make that thirty; I have some business to finish.”

  TWO

  “Detective Sharpe, it’s been a long time, sir.”

  We exchanged pleasantries while standing over the body of a man who, while Ramesses and I had worked with for only a short time, was a long-time colleague of Sharpe and Niki. Quite honestly, since the case that put Kacie, aka Mistress Edge, in prison on a ten-year bid, it had been at least six months since we’d last seen him. Even with the body lying in such a contorted state, his face was unmistakable.

  “Law, Mr. Alexander, it has been a long time, gentlemen.” Sharpe leaned down over the body, shaking his head at the state it was left in. “I wished it were under more pleasant circumstances, though.”

  Despite the decrepit area, he was still well-kempt before his demise; designer jeans, a black T-shirt, white socks and black leather work boots. His hair was freshly cut, no more than two days since his last visit to the barber, and his beard was meticulously trimmed. Despite all of that, his wallet, cell phone and jewelry were taken from him, presumably to conceal his identity in any form or fashion. Tire tracks and footprints could be seen in the soft dirt near his body, and trash was strewn about near the dumpster where he was placed.