Coming Out of the Dark: Second Chance Series - Book 1

by Joan Davis

  Samson circled his thick arms around Risa and palmed both of her breasts. He massaged and squeezed them rhythmically. “Like this?” he asked softly, knowing she would demand more. He teased her by using feather-light touches on her peaks to increase her arousal. He knew what she liked, and he waited for her to ask.

  “More,” Risa moaned and arched her back, thrusting her breasts against Samsun’s large work-roughened hands. “More, Samson . . . I need you to . . . Ahh . . . yes,” she cried out, as Samson obliged and moved his fingers until he was pinching and lightly twisting Risa’s nipples. When she moved restlessly against him, he tightened his fingers and thumbs and drew erotic gasps and moans from her.

  “You like that, baby?” Samson asked, continuing to work Risa’s breasts. He had to grit his teeth to maintain control. It was both a gratifying and painfully erotic game he played, and he loved it.

  “Samson . . . I need more.” Risa arched and moved against him. She could feel his rigid cock throbbing against her back. She moved against him, knowing how to move to ignite his passion. She wanted him to lose control and finally take her. She whimpered as her body quivered. She was so close.

  “Samson,” she panted with need.

  “Are you wet for me, Risa?” Samson asked darkly. His voice rumbled and penetrated through Risa, like deep vibrations, causing her to shudder. “Reach down and touch yourself and tell me if you’re ready for me, baby.” Samson watched the slow tortuous decent of Risa’s hand, and nearly came before she even touched herself.

  Risa squirmed in protest, but still slid her hand down between her legs and cupped her mound. She slowly slid her fingers into her slick folds and arched, as she slowly circled her clitoris, before sliding her fingers inside herself again. Moaning, Risa rhythmically began thrusting her fingers into her slick folds, as she moved sensually against Samson’s aroused body.

  “That’s right. Move your fingers and touch yourself, Risa. I love watching you touch yourself. Does that feel good?” Samson asked hoarsely, watching the sensual play of Risa’s finger between her legs. It was erotic and thrilling to watch his woman pleasure herself for him.

  Shaking her head fitfully, Risa moaned, “It’s not enough.”

  “Are you wet for me? Show me Risa. Show me your hand and how wet and ready you are for me,” Samson demanded hoarsely.

  Trembling, Risa pulled her slick hand from her moist folds and held it up for Samson to see. Samson slowly caught her wrist and brought Risa’s hand above her head until his mouth closed over her fingers and he began to suck. Shuddering at the erotic play of Samson’s tongue against her fingers, Risa said, “Inside me Samson, please. I need you inside me.”

  Without a word, Samson dropped Risa’s hand and quickly slid his large hands down her body until he gripped her under her thighs and lifted her. “Put your hands behind my neck, Risa,” Samson ordered. The moment Risa reached back and gripped his neck, he lined up his stiff cock with her moist folds and slid in fast and deep.

  “Oh Yes!” Risa yelped and felt every inch of Samson’s rigid flesh enter her body. This was what she wanted, what she needed. Samson slowly pulled out of her until only the head of his cock remained inside her. Again, he thrust back deep inside her and then slowly began to withdraw again, over and over until Risa was thrashing against him with need. Risa tried to grip him tightly with her inner muscles, but Samson just kept up the slow, torturous rhythm, slowly building their passion to the breaking point. Risa cried out in sexual frustration. “Samson, I need you. . .”

  “Tell me what you need, baby,” Samson said harshly, gritting his teeth and trying to keep control, and then another thrust and a slow withdrawal.

  Her breath rasping harshly, Risa said, “Harder . . . Faster, Samson. Make me come. Please make me come.”

  Samson bent his head to Risa’s neck and groaned. He began thrusting into Risa’s tight sheath harder, in a non-stop rhythm of searing pleasure. He held Risa up easily with one arm and reached down to move his fingers between her legs until he found her clitoris. He began to massage it in the same fast pace as his thrusts. Primal satisfaction raced through Samson’s body as he felt Risa’s body clamp down on him tightly as he took her over the edge.

  Risa’s braced her feet against the arms of the chair in front of her and matched Samson’s rhythm. The erotic rush of their unusual positions pushed Risa over the edge. She screamed as an orgasm crashed through her body. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. “God, Samson. Yes, yes,” Risa cried and thrashed against him.

  Samson roared as his own release almost caused his legs to buckle. Slowly, as they both calmed down, Samson withdrew from Risa body. He turned and fell back into one of the plush chairs and pulled Risa onto his lap.

  Panting and smiling stupidly, Samson said, “So, what do you think of my basement?”

  Risa snuggled against Samson, smiling into his neck. “I might need a few more trial runs before I get use to it,” she said breathlessly.

  Laughing softly, Samson hugged Risa tighter and said suggestively, “You know I’ve got your back, woman.” Samson felt Risa gasp in shock and then start to laugh quietly.

  “Samson . . .?” Risa suddenly asked, sounding odd.

  “What?” Samson asked.

  “Did we just have sex with those big French doors wide open?” Risa asked with uneasiness in her voice.

  “Nope, we had big ol’ hot monkey-sex with those big French doors wide open,” Samson chuckled with male satisfaction.

  *****

  Oh God, man, please don’t do this. You know I would never tell anyone about you. Please, just stop and talk to me. I’ve been loyal, haven’t I? I never missed making the transfers, right? Look, if you just tell me what you think I did . . . Oh God, don’t hurt me, please,” Tom Larkin cried piteously when he still got no response.

  Once again he shoved Tom ahead of him and Tom began walking blindly. His eyes were covered by duct tape, and his hands and arms were pulled painfully tight behind his back and secured with strong plastic zip ties. Tom stumbled again, and he was forced to help him up and push Tom forward. It was tedious, but necessary.

  Unable to stop crying, Tom just kept pleading. “I’ll give you anything you want. You know I can do it. I have access to unlimited funds at the bank. Just tell me how much and it’s yours. Oh God, just tell me. Afterward, I’ll just disappear. You’ll never have to worry about me again. Please, just listen to me.”

  Finally, having reached their destination and unable to stand the sniveling, he spoke to Tom for the first time since meeting him in the Walmart parking lot. “All of you have offered me? Everything you have? Why? I already have everything you own. Sacrifices have to be made. I could understand the women pleading, but have a little pride, Tom. Quit bawling,” he said, exasperated. He put his hand on Tom’s shoulder and forced him to kneel on both knees. Drawing his assault rifle over his shoulder, he brought it down in front of him. He reached around Tom’s head and ripped the duct tape heartlessly away from Tom’s eyes, stepped back and said, “Besides, how loyal can you ever be to me or the coven when every last one of you has prayed to God to save you.”

  Tom cried out when the tape was ripped away so viciously. Trying to focus his eyes and blink past the tears, Tom finally saw his fate and screamed. Stark terror stroked through his body, and urine ran down between his legs. His body convulsed involuntarily. “Oh God, no, don’t do it. I won’t tell, I swear to God, Please just let me live. I’ll give you anyth . . .”

  A solitary bullet to Tom’s head was all it took to end his incessant whining. Tom fell dead, like a domino on top of the other four at the bottom of the drainage ditch. It was almost over, and all that was left was to deal with the witch. This task had taken most of the morning, but he still had plenty of time to reach his final goal. He looked down again at his friends. He would miss them, but in all honesty, he would miss their generosity more. It couldn’t be helped. He turned and walked back to his truck and headed to Dalton.

>   *****

  Gabriel Ryan watched as Eunice McCreary made her way across the cemetery. Eunice’s back was hunched a little, as if she bore a large weight. She wore a faded blue dress with a high white collar and sensible shoes. Her loosely braided brown hair was sprinkled with grey, and her face showed every one of her 63 years of age. After following her for the last few days, Gabriel knew this visit to the cemetery was a daily ritual. She reached the grave site that was her usual destination. Having already taken a look at the headstone, Gabriel knew the individual buried there was one of her sons, Michael Robert McCreary; he had died over 6 years ago.

  After waiting for Eunice to pay her respects, Gabriel stepped out into the open and stood looking around. He then looked down at a piece of paper in his hand, as if confused. He gripped a bouquet of flowers in his other hand. Gabriel moved down a couple of grave sites, shook his head and again looked at the piece of paper.

  As if seeing her for the first time, Gabriel gave Eunice McCreary a polite, but distracted smile, as he looked at the piece of paper again.

  “You lost, mister?” Eunice had stopped, noticing the man looking confused.

  Gabriel smiled sadly, as if embarrassed. “Yes ma’am. I think I am. I have been out of the country for a few years and just found out about the loss of a good friend. I just wanted to pay my respects, but I can’t seem to find her grave site.”

  Eunice eyed the man for a moment. He looked sickly and very sad. “Maybe I can help you. What’s that paper say there?”

  “Section D, Plot 7, on the fifth row,” Gabriel read and looked to Eunice to see if she could help.

  Eunice nodded. “You ain’t that far off, mister. I’ll be leadin’ you,” Eunice said solemnly, and turned to walk away. Gabriel followed, but kept a respectful distance. “This should be it, mister,” Eunice said, while stopping to read the headstone and then gasped and stepped back.

  “Is something wrong? Is this the wrong grave?” Gabriel asked, confused, and then looking at the headstone his shoulders slumped. “Oh Sandy,” Gabriel said softly, and stepped forward to touch the headstone gently. He turned and smiled sadly and said, “Thank you. This was who I was trying to find. I guess I’m still finding it hard to believe someone would want to hurt Sandy.”

  Eunice’s hand was pressed to her chest, and she shook her head. “No one should be having to go through what that poor family did. God rest her soul. She was a good woman,” Eunice said sadly. “She used to come into my store at least once a week. She was real nice and didn’t look down on nobody. A real nice lady. Her husband was real good to us, too. He would give my oldest boys work to help us out when times was rough. Such a nice family,” Eunice added sorrowfully.

  “I know what you mean. I tried to contact Bill, but I guess he moved away. At least he has his daughter back now. I guess that’s good,” Gabriel said, placing the bouquet of flowers in the permanent vase that sat at the base of the headstone. “I can’t imagine losing a spouse, but I imagine losing a child would be even worse.”

  “No greater pain than the loss of a child. It’s not natural,” Eunice said stoically.

  Gabriel turned to Eunice and stepped closer. “I’m so sorry. Was that your child you were visiting? Please forgive me, I had no idea,” he said with distressed sincerity.

  “You wouldn’t be knowing. It’s fine. My boy was taken from his daddy and me more than five years ago now. It’s still as painful today as it was the day the police come to tell us someone had tortured and killed him.”

  “He was murdered? Oh, I am so sorry for your loss. Was the murderer caught?” Gabriel asked softly.

  “Nobody ever paid for what they done to my son. Police say they got no evidence. Michael was left alone in a field, with no clothes to cover him. His daddy said they cut him up pretty badly. But his body had been washed clean, and the police said the people who did it took my boy’s blood. We couldn’t even have a proper viewing to allow the family to say their goodbyes,” Eunice said, her lips tight and angry.

  “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up painful memories for you,” Gabriel said sympathetically.

  “Don’t ever think it can’t happen to you. I have twelve children, mister, but not a day goes by that I don’t grieve for my boy. It ain’t right to lose a child, it ain’t the way it should be,” Eunice said, and then turned and walked away.

  Gabriel watched Eunice McCreary until she disappeared. He turned to Sandra Landau’s grave and laid a gentle hand on the headstone. “Thank you for your help, Sandy. Bill and Risa are going to be okay. Don’t worry,” Gabriel said softly and then headed for his car. He visited the First Baptist Church of Cloverdale, had lunch at a local family diner to catch the latest gossip, and then he visited the public records office. Finding what he suspected, Gabriel rushed back to his motel room, packed up and left Cloverdale, North Carolina.

  Gabriel tried to reach Samson and Conner on his cell phone as he hit the city limits of Cloverdale, but he kept losing the signal on his phone. He wasn’t able to turn around due to a traffic jam up ahead. He saw several state and city police cruisers along the side of the highway. They seemed to be preoccupied at a big drainage ditch, but Gabriel could see no evidence of a car accident as he finally passed the site. As soon as traffic thinned, he tried to reach Sam or Conner again, but realized he must be in a dead zone. He still couldn’t get a cell signal. “Damn it,” Gabriel said in frustration. He threw the cell phone in the passenger seat and hit the gas pedal. If his theory was correct, he needed to get back to Dalton as soon as possible.

  *****

  “Five bodies were found earlier today in a large drainage ditch just outside Cloverdale’s city limits. Three women and two men were found bound and shot execution style. The police are asking that the press hold back on releasing the identities of the victims until their families can be notified. Abandoned cars belonging to the victims were found side-by-side in a nearby Walmart parking lot, but so far they appear to have been left untouched.”

  Risa frowned at the TV, but was quickly distracted as Samson and Conner came into the living room from a meeting in Samson’s office.

  “Whacha’ watching . . .?” Conner asked casually, as he sat down in one of the big leather chairs.

  “Nothing. I was just listening to a depressing news report. How did the phone conference go? Did your clients like the changes you suggested?” Risa asked curiously.

  Samson came out of the kitchen with two icy beers and a glass of frosty cola for Risa. After passing the drinks out, he sprawled next to Risa on the leather sofa. “I think they will eventually approve them. They like the ideas and the cost savings, but as usual, they have to grumble for a few days before making a decision,” Samson said with resigned frustration.

  Laughing softly, Risa leaned over and gave him a sympathetic kiss.

  “They’ll agree to the changes. I threw in a standard security package that they have coveted. I knew that dangling that carrot would come in handy down the line,” he said grinning.

  “Speaking of security, where is Mik?” Samson asked.

  Conner shrugged. “Jose had a lot of issues today, and now that Bill’s house is completely secure and empty, there’s really no reason to keep people over there. Both the sheriff, who has hired a security team, and your cousin, Zek, are still sending cars around and doing drive-bys every hour. So, when Jose called in this morning and said his wife was having Braxton Hicks contractions with the baby, I told him to stay put. He said it’s probably nothing, but he didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone. Mik was with me when I got the call, and he volunteered to shadow Bill over in Cloverdale today. Chris is due to start his patrol here in about an hour, and since I’ve been here practically all day, I didn’t think there would be a problem.”

  Risa looked at Samson, worried. “Do you think Maria and the baby will be okay?”

  Conner nodded reassuringly. “Jose said the doctors are monitoring Maria pretty closely, and if there’s a need, the hospital
is only five minutes from their home.”

  Samson nodded. “Let me know if they need anything,” he said concerned.

  “Will do. Anyway, I am heading back to town. Anything else you guys need before I go?” Conner asked, while standing and starting to edge towards the front door.

  “Why, you got a hot date?” Samson asked, with raised eyebrows.

  Shrugging Conner gave them a wolfish smile and said, “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

  Risa grinned, but didn’t say anything. She loved how these two were always goading each other.

  Laughing, Samson got up and walked Conner out to his Tahoe. “Have you heard anything from Gabriel?” Samson asked.

  “The last conversation I had with him was three days ago. He is trying to find a way to approach someone in the McCreary family without raising suspicion. You know how investigations work. This could take a while,” Conner said with a shrug.

  Nodding, Samson said, “Let me know if you hear anything else.” Conner nodded, got in his truck and drove away.

  Samson rubbed his tension-filled neck and instead of going back inside, he went around the side of the house and out towards the dock. He and Risa had left a few towels and a deflated raft on the dock’s platform. He didn’t want to leave them out there in case it rained later. Reaching the end of the dock, he gathered up everything and was about half-way back to the house when his cell phone rang. Stuffing everything under one arm, Samson grabbed his cell phone. Seeing the caller I.D., he frowned and answered. “Bill?”

  “Samson, I’m over in Cloverdale with Mik. All hell is breaking loose here, that Banner girl’s dead body was found in her cell. The authorities are saying she may have been suffocated,” Bill said in a panicked voice. “Now they say they have found five more people dead in a ditch. They were all tied up and shot in the head. I have a bad feeling about this. Tell me my girl is safe, Sam,” Bill said, his voice choked.

  Samson cursed. He started moving quickly towards the house when he looked up and saw a large man. He was covered in full-black body armor from head-to-toe, and he was coming around the corner of Samson’s house behind the deck. Samson could see an assault rifle and scope. Dropping what he had in him arms, he yelled into the phone. “Bill he’s here! Call 9-1 . . .” And then there was a loud popping noise.