Deadly Sai

By J&L Brown

Born the only child to a Black military father and Japanese mother, Kamari finds herself alone after losing them in a mudslide caused by a typhoon in Takayama, Japan.  Refusing to live in a home for teenage orphans, she ends up on the street, hanging with the wrong crowd, stealing, getting into fights but she soon learns what her father tau

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brown Publishing
• Release date: Sep 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9780692179062

J&L Brown

LaTrell Brown (The "L" of J&L Brown) is an Agatha Christie reader who went on hiatus from reading to do some living and traveling. Once her daughter started her final year of high school, she began reading again but found herself reading erotic, dark erotic, and other romance novels with a few comedy novels thrown in, which led to her wanting to write her own type of erotic romance story. Deadly Sai was done together with her daughter (Jamille Brown - The "J" of J&L Brown) as a mother/daughter project before starting college.

Book preview

DEADLY SAI

Book One

By J&L Brown

Copyright © 2018 by J&L Brown

All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locals, is entirely coincidental.  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission.  The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2018

Cover Design by Diana TC, triumphbookcovers.com

Print Edition ISBN:  978-0-692-17903-1

Ebook ISBN:  978-0-692-17906-2

Dedication

To my family and closest friends, there is a little bit of each of you in here . . .somewhere.

Prologue

My favorite day of the week…Saturday with me and my boys, Mario and the Cap’n. I roll out of bed, I ain’t even gonna make it up, and hit the shower. I sit under the spray so it can beat off the back of my neck and I sit there long enough that the water is starting to get cold; plus, the Cap’n is calling. I dry off, hit the kitchen, grab the box and then I see it from across the room. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and I’ve been staring at it all week. I pour the peanut butter crunch into my mouth, took a swig of milk straight from the carton and walk over. Everything slows, the sun hits it just right, I drag my finger across it and say, It’s just you and me baby and rip the Nintendo Switch out the goddamn box.

I’m 4 hours in and me and Donkey bitchass are neck and neck, going back and forth between 1st and 2nd place. Right before I cross the finish line, I get hit by a blue shell, Donkey bitchass takes 1st place, and I get a text. I’m already frustrated and now I got to work because I’m not gonna pass on $10 million.

Chapter 1

Normally I don’t accept a contract on a Saturday because 1) I don’t have to and 2) it’s really up to me whether I take the contract or not, but since it’s been almost a month since my last job (and the $10 million helps), why the hell not. So…decision made. I accept before even reading the text. It’s sent in the same manner each time, an overly generic text with a picture attachment of money stacks to show half of the fee has been paid. I put my finger on the home button to decode the message to find details on the target.

Target:  Dax Colson

Payment:  10 stacks; ½ up front, ½ upon completion

Reason:  N/A

Once the message is open, it contains all the necessary information, photos, address, and where the target frequents. It usually includes why the person has been targeted, which is something I normally don’t read because I don’t care.  I must be curious because no reason was given.  I check the photos, doesn’t look like someone worth $10 million, but who am I to judge.  The list of known acquaintances is ridiculously long and how about that. . . they’re all female, every single one of them.  I don’t have to read any further to know what this guy is up to . . . #womanizer.  Looks like his area of frequency is not too far from here. . . yeah, yeah, yeah, I know you’re not supposed to shit where you eat but it’s $10 million.

***

About an hour away, I shadow Colson throughout the weekend to get a feel for his comings and goings, who’s around him, but most of all when he’s alone and dammit it’s not too often.  Between cafés, restaurants, and the bar, I’m getting sick of being in the car.  I decide to grab a room at the local hotel, order in and refresh.  Maybe the workweek will fare better.

***

And I called that wrong, work, meetings, lunches and by lunches I mean he’s hitting every pussy this side of creation. . . geez it’s midweek and this fucker is never alone. So, time to get up close and personal, no more games!  I checked out as Imma do the deed and get the fuck out of Dodge.  Colson frequents this particular café each morning, it’s pretty quiet and although he’s not alone, I don’t think it’ll be a problem.  I’ll use my ring that will transfer poison to his skin, as every guy I meet grabs me by the hand.  I’m immune to the poison as my plasma is used in its formula.  It’s pretty fast absorbing and practically untraceable but you would have to be looking for it.  I walk into the café to find him waiting for his order when I mistakenly bump into him and drop my keys.  Oh, I’m sorry.  He turns around and looks at me like he just blew his wad like Justin Timberlake from Bad Teacher.

Colson

I get bumped from behind, so I turn around and see this most exquisite piece of ass standing in front of me, smelling like cinnamon, looking like milk chocolate and her wrapper consists of a cream sweater dress stopping mid thigh, barely brushing the top of her thigh-high caramel suede boots.  The dress is hugging her in all the right places and gotta dude seriously considering the swirl. I completely forgot to pick up whatever she dropped until she said,

Oh, I’m sorry.

All I heard was can you take me home, fuck me hard and put me away wet. I get down on one knee to pick up her keys and present them to her like I’m proposing. She grabs the keys and I trap her hand between mine when she says,

Aren’t you the sweetest little thing?

I can show you ‘little’.

When and where?

I was just about to answer when I hear someone calling my name. Colson? Shit, I forgot I was here with somebody.  I get up quickly and turnaround.

Hey babe.

Who’s that girl you’re talking to?— Order for Colson.

Grab the coffee and I’ll grab a seat.

I turn back around to find that my Hershey kiss is gone. DAMN, now I gotta get dessert from this bitch. I sit in silence, drinking this nasty ass decaf, double shot, skim crap while she drones on about the chick I was talking to and I have no clue who she was, so why even bother answering.  After about 15-20 minutes, I tell this chick I’ll catch up with her another time and I leave, thinking about Hershey all the way back to my car.  I crank the engine, and BBD is on the radio playing Poison—never trust a big butt and a smile, that girl is poi—son.  I had to laugh.  I start to sweat, put my car in gear, and back out of the parking spot. Next thing I knew I vomited and everything went black.

Chapter 2

Jordan Thompson (JT)

I land at the Seattle International Airport for my new assignment.  I’ve been a Detective for quite a while and have become an expert on unexplained deaths.  My superiors recommended me for this detail as there have been several deaths within the US with the most recent one in Ellensburg.  I arrive on the scene looking for Captain Bates.  I show my badge to the officer at the tape to let me pass, and he points out the Captain to me. . . standing by a vehicle parked inside the coffee shop.

What do we got?

And you are?

Sorry, Jordan Thompson.  I present my hand for a shake.  You can call me JT.

"Oh, I was expecting you.  As you can see, we got a guy who can’t park worth a damn because he’s in the middle of the café.  Not many witnesses.  Staff says he ordered two coffees, sat with a woman while he drank it and left but he never made it out the parking lot.  We’re tracking the female