7. Daylin
SEVEN
daylin
DAYS LATER . . .
I was restless, needing to walk around or pace or anything other than sit on this bed. While it was comfortable, I still felt terrible. I wished I hadn’t tried to escape, because then I wouldn’t be cuffed to this bed nor would my ankle be so sensitive and weak.
Now I had to notify Rakim anytime I needed to pee or do other things, and even worse, the negro stayed in the bedroom the whole time. So, he knew every time I was taking a shit, which for some reason unnerved me.
No woman wanted a fine nigga knowing when they took a shit unless they’d bagged said nigga already. And even then, as fine as Rakim was, I would prefer he think I was a non-shitting little princess.
As if I’d talked him up, Rakim entered the bedroom, and I felt relief I couldn’t quite explain.
“Can I ask a question?” I spoke aloud as he busied himself with something behind the desk.
“Yeah.” Like usual, he gave me no eye contact.
I began wondering if he was this reserved while having intercourse. The visual made me smirk subtly.
“My boyfriend . . .”
“What about the nigga?” Rakim inquired harshly, and I could’ve sworn I saw his lip curl and heard him scoff in the process, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Did you do something to him? Has he asked about me? I mean, something had to be told to him. He wouldn’t just know what happened to me and go on about his life.”
“He’s taken care of,” Rakim threw out, but once his eyes locked with my worried ones, he added, “He alive, if that’s what you wanna know.”
“Oh, okay.” I exhaled out of ease. “I’d like to take a shower again. I’ve been sweating a lot in this hot ass room, so can you un-cuff me? Thanks.”
I turned to look off but felt him staring at me, so I could assume it was because of how I was talking to him.
Without a word, he moseyed over and fetched the key to the handcuffs from his pocket to unlock it.
“I hope you don’t plan on taking another shower tonight. This counts as ya second and last,” he told me, and I felt like he only did to exert his authority since I had, only moments ago, bossed his ass around.
“I could’ve hit you in the face with something when you unlocked this. You should step back next time,” I replied.
“You’d need a ladder to do that, baby. And it takes more than a weapon to incapacitate me to the point where I can’t lock yo’ ass back up.”
“Hmph.” I huffed, standing. I noticed my knees were sort of weak, and my stomach felt slightly hollow as I ambled to the bathroom, and it wasn’t due to the bed or the fact that I was hungry—it was Rakim.
He was so sexy to me, and a part of it was attributed to how he looked, but the other was his mystique.
I often found myself wondering what it was like to have sex with him.
I was sure he was the dominant type, but I was curious to know what such a dominant man was like when he was in pleasing mode.
To see him on his knees with his beautiful face between my legs would surely make me finish in itself.
“Day.” I reprimanded myself as I rinsed off my second wash under the showerhead.
I finished cleaning up, then stepped out to dry off, use the generic lotion, and then brush, floss, and rinse with mouthwash.
I sadly had to use that lotion on my face, and it made my skin crawl each and every time.
I had very dry skin, though, and going without lotion made me feel like a crypt keeper.
“Feel better?” Rakim queried as soon as I emerged from the bathroom. He had the cuff in his hand already, making me roll my eyes on the low.
“I do.” I sat down and basked in his cologne as he bounded me to the headboard again. “That book you gave me was actually pretty good. It wasn’t graphic either. You should read it.”
“Yeah, I’ll be sure to do that shit when I get some time,” he stated sarcastically, stepping back from me.
“It’s not my usual genre, but it kept my attention. Maybe because of the situation I’m in,” I elaborated, and he said nothing as he went back to working on something behind the faraway desk. “Do you have a computer I can use?”
“No.”
Irritated, I said, “I need to check on my work and send some emails to be sure everything is running smoothly without me.”
“What do they usually do when you ain’t at work?”
“I have supervisors and my assistant, but they still need to be able to reach me at certain points and times.”
“Sounds to me like you should’ve made the proper arrangements so yo’ shit could run smoothly without yo’ ass.”
“You’re right. I should’ve definitely planned around this little kidnapping scheme of yours. My bad.” I shook my head, truly pissed off. “Bitch ass nigga,” I mumbled, but when my eyes caught onto his, my heart fell into my ass because I knew he’d heard me.
Before I could find the words to apologize, Rakim was up on his feet, making his way toward me and looking even taller than his already staggering height.
“Fuck you say?” he inquired once near. He squatted before me, and I tried to crawl back some, but his big hand gripped my thigh, pinning it in place effortlessly.
“I um, I was joking—”
“I want you to understand and understand this shit good, Daylin—watch yo’ mouth when you talking to me, or I can watch the shit for you.
I don’t know how you talk to Shaun, yo’ brother, or whatever other niggas you got in ya life, but they ain’t me, ’cause if they were, you’d be traced in white chalk already.
All you need to do is sit yo’ ass right here and not say shit until this deal between me and yo’ bitch ass pops is done with.
All the extra conversation, jokes, and witty comments gon’ get something put in that smart ass mouth of yours.
” Standing, he said, “And nah, I ain’t talking about my dick.
You talk too much shit for me to ever attempt that, but this right here—“ He took the gun off his waist—“most definitely. Any questions, comments, or concerns, save ’em for ya muthafuckin’ boyfriend, aight? ”
“Yes.” I answered promptly, refusing to take my eyes off Rakim as he towered over me, eyes glowering down at me.
In any other situation, I would’ve lit his ass right back up, but I would be stupid to right now. He’d spoken so calmly and coolly that I believed every word he’d said, because those collected statements were doused in venom.
No more words were spoken as Rakim got back to his task at hand, and I lay back on the bed, closing my eyes in hopes that a nap found me.
Thankfully, it did.
Hours later . . .
I was well rested as my eyes fluttered open, but an immediate sickness swelled within me as I recalled the encounter with Rakim some hours ago.
My arm bumped something on the bed, making me look over as I sat up to see a new book. It wasn’t just any book, however, but a romance book with black characters drawn on the front, so I knew what type of romance it was.
I knew Rakim had to have gone out and bought the book which made me soften a bit toward him, for one reason or another.
Still, he confused and perplexed me because he was so rude, so mean, and so callous, yet I caught the few and infrequent glimpses of how thoughtful he was or how deeply he cared for people, like Talid or the woman he’d murdered for, according to the article I’d found on him during my research.
My mind began to drift as I wondered where that woman was, considering Rakim stated he was single. He could’ve been lying, but he didn’t come off as the type of nigga to lie about that, especially when he had no reason to. It wasn’t like we were on a date when he mentioned it.
If they truly were no longer, I hoped Rakim had broken up with that woman, because any chick that would leave a man that’d catch a body for her was crazy.
I had to remember, though, that I didn’t know all the details.
Same time, from what I gathered on Rakim from being in his presence, he didn’t commit criminal acts for his loved ones unless he had good or logical reason.
“Knock, knock!” Cynthia shouted, though her ass didn’t knock at all as she pranced in carrying a tray of food.
My stomach growled loudly at the smell of what I soon learned was loaded mashed potatoes, a New York strip steak, and maple glazed Brussels sprouts with shaved parmesan. To drink, I was served a glass of water.
“Thank you, Cynthia. Wow, this looks . . . amazing.” I was damn near drooling as I eyed the tray laid across my lap.
I began to speculate on what Rakim could’ve told Cynthia to have her acting as if I wasn’t handcuffed to a bed and quite obviously being held captive.
“Need anything else?”
“Nope. Thanks.” I got right to eating the already sliced steak, which I was grateful for since I only had one hand.
I then remembered it probably wasn’t wise to supply a hostage with a weapon. Though something told me the least of Rakim’s worries were me coming into a knife.
“Welcome!” Cynthia floated out.
My thoughts were all over the place as I ate every bit of the food, even the fat cap of the steak.
I’d been done for about twenty minutes before the door came open. I was expecting for it to be Cynthia to collect my plate, but it was him.
Like always, my heart rate increased its speed, and my stomach filled with butterflies as he neared. Rakim had such an arresting demeanor and overall presence that it was difficult to pay attention to anything else but him.
He was donned in a black do-rag, wife beater, gray jogger shorts that ran past the knee, socks, and corduroy slippers.
Even his calves were sexy. His dark skin gleamed against the moonlight peering in through the windows as he grabbed up my dirty dishes, muscles flexing and the scent of bodywash or cologne assaulting my nostrils in the best way.
Everything about this man turned me on, and I recognized immediately that my ass could never be a lesbian.
Simple things like Rakim’s facial hair, big hands, broad shoulders, hard body, muscular back, brown eyes that were hooded most likely from his high, and that pronounced dick print were just things a woman could never possess but I needed.