Biding His Thyme: 4 (22 page)

“It’s not funny,” Brother Rick snarled. A
dried bit of blood clung to one of his flared nostrils. “I need the money.”

“You need the money?” Sorrel said in a
dangerous voice. “If it’s a trust the money belongs to everyone. It’s not yours
to spend.”

“Brother Samuel had no right to give the
power to a woman.” Venom coated his voice as he pushed his face close to hers.
“You will sign it over to me.”

“No.” She didn’t even need to think twice.
“I won’t.”

Brother Rick grabbed her arm and shook her.

Sorrel wrenched away. “Get your hands off
me.”

His eyes promised retribution, and before
she could heed the warning, he backhanded her. Her head snapped back, the crack
of palm against skin almost as alarming as the jerk of pain. He grasped her
shoulders again, shaking her for a second time, fury a dark slash on his face.
“You will give me that money.”

“No,” she backed away, her old fears
gripping her for an instant.

The door to Brother Rick’s quarters flew
open, startling them both.

“Get out,” Brother Rick snarled without
looking over his shoulder.

Brother Felix hovered in the doorway.

But Brother Rick’s concentration was
divided, and Sorrel found her mettle again. She shoved him hard, and when he
roared, lashing out again, the brief self-defense lesson Jake had given her
came back. She stomped on his foot, kicked his knee and headed for the door.

She managed to get past Brother Rick, but
he grabbed her from behind, his fingers digging into her upper arms. Sorrel
forced herself to relax, to sag against his chest. Then she lifted her right
leg and kicked back with her heel, striking into his groin putting every ounce
of force she could muster into the move.

He let out a pained howl and a whimper,
dropping to a heap, cupping his groin.

“What’s going on?” Jake’s voice.

Sorrel pushed past Brother Felix and fell
straight into Jake’s arms.

“They kidnapped me,” she said. “I want to
press charges.”

Jake ignored Brother Rick writhing on the
ground and the gaping Brother Felix. He wrapped an arm around Sorrel’s waist
and urged her toward her workshop, the only place he could think of where no
one was likely to barge in on them. Sorrel would be safe until Luke came to
take over.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, not really. There’s something weird
going on though. He’s acting desperate. He needs money for something.”

“Is that all he said?”

Sorrel stopped walking, her gaze on
something across the other side of the compound. “What are those?”

Jake exerted enough pressure at her back to
make her start walking again. “Brother Rick has visitors.”

“With motorbikes?” She scrunched her nose.
“Wait, Janaya said something about gang members. I remember now.”

“Sorrel, not now. Please.” He should have
guessed she’d ask questions. She’d gained her independence and relished the
lack of personal restraints. It was silly of him to expect her to stuff her
newfound freedom back in a box and blindly obey his orders. “Brother Rick
invited members of the Rebel Brothers to visit.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. They arrived last night.”
He’d watched those guys last night. They had an eye for women. Damn if he
intended to let them near his woman. He directed her around the outskirts of
the open ground, relaxing when they reached the workshop. Opening the door, he
urged her inside.

“Hoy. You.”

“Fuck,” Jake said.

“I’m talking to you,” the hard male voice roared
across the compound.

Jake fumbled in his pocket for his phone
and shoved it at Sorrel. “Ring Luke. Speed dial two. Tell him we need him
now
.”

Jake took a deep breath and consciously
slumped. He turned to face the two gang members standing in the doorway of the
dining room. They didn’t move. Cursing under his breath, he started limping in
their direction until he was a few feet from them. “Can I help you with
something?”

“Who is the woman?”

Jake glanced over his shoulder. He relaxed
a fraction when he saw Sorrel speaking on the phone.

“She’s from the council,” Jake said. “She’s
checking the facilities here at the compound to make sure they’re up to
standard.”

The compound residents started drifting
out, streaming around the two gang members.

“What is Sorrel doing here?” one of the men
asked. “Why is she dressed like that?”

“I thought she’d left the compound,” one of
the women said.

“You know the woman?” a third gang member
asked.

Jake didn’t appreciate the way this was
going.

The first man focused on Jake. “Why did you
lie?”

Not good at all.

“Could it be,” the man continued, “you have
an attachment to this woman?”

Jake didn’t reply. Instead he prayed for
reinforcements to arrive soon because this had the makings of another
clusterfuck.

* * * * *

Sorrel’s hand trembled as she pushed speed
dial.

“Morgan,” Luke barked.

“It’s Sorrel. I’m at the compound. Jake
said you should get your butts here now.”

“We’re on our way already,” Luke said.
“Five minutes.”

Sorrel shoved the phone into the waistband
of her skirt.

“Girlie, over here,” one of the gang
members hollered.

More people spilled from the dining hall at
his yell. More gang members. Their presence screamed something illegal when
combined with Brother Rick’s weird behavior. She hesitated, gut instinct telling
her cooperating would be a bad idea.

“Don’t make me come and get you.”

The warning in his voice didn’t go
unnoticed. Bother, she should have hidden. She eyed the gates to the compound
then the big bald man in scruffy jeans and leather vest. Anger bristled off him
in waves. Her gaze drifted to the gates again.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to run. She was
off, sprinting toward the entrance before the thought half formed.

“Stop.” An angry shout from him whipped her
fear. She didn’t slacken pace. Her feet pounded the gravel path, her heart
pounded, fear giving her an extra edge of speed.

“Open the gates,” she screamed at the two
elderly security guards. As usual they moved at the pace of runny honey on a
cold day. One of them exited the small shelter to the side and stood, staring
at her.

Sorrel kept running, kept screeching at
them.

The roar of a motorbike split the air.
Sorrel gasped, saw the bike with the rider leaning low when she risked a glance
over her shoulder. Even from this distance, anger emanated off him. She reached
the gates and started climbing, fervently wishing she’d donned her new pair of
comfortable jeans. The sound of the bike grew louder, meaner, until it vibrated
inside her head. Danger. Danger.
Danger
.

The bike screeched to a stop. A dust cloud
clogged her throat. She coughed and kept moving. Rough hands grabbed her just
as she swung her leg over the top. She struggled, kicked, but to no avail. The
man grasped her by the waist and hoisted her down as if she weighed nothing
more than a batch of bath bombs.

“What have we here?” he rasped in her ear.

His breath wafted over her, the blast of
garlic telling her everyone had dined on lasagna during their recent meal.

“Girlie, where have you been hiding?” He
hauled her toward his motorbike.

“If you think I’m getting on that you’ve
got rocks in your head,” she snapped before she could think better of the
remark. She closed her eyes, heart still trying to burrow out of her chest.
Maybe now wasn’t the best time to channel Janaya and Alice.

When he reached his bike, he kept an iron
grip on her wrist. He straddled the machine without releasing her. “You will
get on my bike behind me. You will hold on to me because I’d hate you to fall
off and graze this pretty skin.” His finger traveled up one of her arms and
skipped to her upper chest, impudently slipping downward into her cleavage.

Sorrel held still, instinctively knowing if
she disobeyed him the situation would worsen. She gave a clipped nod of
acknowledgement.

“Girlie, I can tell we’re going to get on
well together.”

Luke had said five minutes. Where in stars
was he?

The man patted the seat behind him. Sorrel
eyed it with disfavor. Yeah, those jeans were looking good right now. Taking a
deep breath, she lifted her leg and swung it over the bike.

“Matching black panties,” the man purred.
“Sexy.”

She didn’t enjoy the way he was eyeing her
like a luscious treat, designed to his specifications. She’d much prefer the
anger he’d displayed when he’d hollered after her.

The bike took off with a roar. Sorrel let
out a shriek and clutched his waist. She heard his laughter as he guided the
bike across the compound to the dining room.

Thankfully, it was a quick trip. She
scrambled off the bike the instant it stopped, attempting to wriggle free of
his grip.

“You’re coming with me,” he said gruffly,
his eyes gleaming with heat. Sexual heat.

Sorrel gave another futile tug for freedom.
“No,” she said loudly. “I won’t.”

Silence fell, scary in its nothingness.

Jake scowled at the man. “She said no. Let
her go.”

The man ignored her objections, ignored
Jake and started towing her toward the men’s sleeping quarters. “I’m going to
fuck the feistiness out of you, girlie.”

“No,” Sorrel said.

“Get your hands off her,” Jake snarled,
advancing two steps.

Before he could reach the big man holding
her captive, two of the other bikers grabbed him. Sorrel struggled, and Jake
fought to help her, despite the two men impeding him.

Sister Andrea appeared from the kitchen
entrance of the dining hall, a pot in hand. “Sorrel, what—” She broke off abruptly.
“You let her go.”

“What are you going to do about it?” The
man holding Sorrel captive snickered.

Sister Andrea fired the heavy pot at his
head. It hit with a resounding thump. Sorrel jerked free and turned to flee.
The man let out a wounded-bull roar and charged Sister Andrea.

Another pot flew through the air, fired by
another one of the sisters who’d appeared behind Sister Andrea.

Suddenly the mood of the crowd changed.
Instead of cowering, they flocked around the gang members, overwhelming them by
sheer numbers and inventiveness when it came to weapons. Rolling pins, sandals
and more pots were lobbed through the air.

A siren became audible in the distance.
Strong arms surrounded her, and she whipped around ready to fight.

“Steady, sweetheart,” a familiar voice
said. Blood trickled down his cheek from a nick above his left eyebrow. He drew
her to a clear space near the exterior dining room wall. “Are you okay?”

“Maybe a bruise or two.”

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered against
her ear.

“Why?” Despite her confusion, warmth built
in her chest, a small spark of pleasure. No one had ever been proud of her
before.

“You fought back,” he said simply.

Three police vehicles arrived and the
security men moved with alacrity to let them inside the compound. Luke and the
other policemen soon had the gang members subdued.

Brother Rick appeared behind them. “What is
going on here?” he asked, the strident voice of authority. He approached in a
gingerly manner, his slight limp raising a smile in Sorrel. Go, her.

Luke approached him with confidence
inherent in his every move. “You’re under arrest for the kidnapping of Sorrel
Thyme.”

“I didn’t kidnap her. Look, she’s standing
over there. Bitter. Bitter!”

Sorrel’s eyes narrowed. “My name is Sorrel,
and I want to press charges. He grabbed me in town, drugged me and brought me
here without my consent. He tried to force me to sign a document so he could
spend the funds the Brother Samuel set aside for the benefit of the people who
live in the compound.” She paused to take a breath, anger like a serpent
slithering through her veins.

“She’s lying.”

“I am not. I also suspect him of poisoning
Brother Samuel.”

“That’s a lie.”

“You’ve treated me like a slave. Why have
you encouraged everyone else to treat me in the same manner?”

“She’s lying,” Brother Rick spat. “My
father ate poisonous mushrooms by mistake. Others were sick too.”

“I might not be able to prove what I’m
saying, but I know the truth in my heart.”

The members of Children of Nature had
fallen silent, listening to everything Sorrel said. Now they started low
murmurs of discontent.

“I knew I didn’t put poisonous mushrooms in
my stew,” Sister Andrea said with an emphatic nod.

A dull fan of red moved up Brother Rick’s
throat. “Surely you’re not going to listen to her. She’s lying. Look at her.”
He appealed to the brothers and sisters. “She’s gone against every one of our
beliefs. She’s sold out.”

“You forced her out,” Sister Andrea said.
“The chickens are treated better than Sorrel. You made sure she ate no more
than once a day. You instructed us to call her Bitter, and you worked her hard
to keep the store stocked with products.”

“Aye, and you told us to sell everything at
a dollar each so she had to work even more to keep up with demand,” another
sister called. “The stallholder in Papakura was furious when he couldn’t buy
more cheap stock to sell at the market.”

“Take him away,” someone else called.

“We’re better off without him.”

“He brought those men here.”

“He made me sleep with one of them,” a
young girl said.

Luke hauled Brother Rick away, still
protesting his innocence. The crowd continued to throw complaints after him.
The other officers dealt with the gang members.

“Where is Brother Felix?” Sorrel asked.

“I haven’t seen him.” Jake kept his arms
loosely circled around her, giving Sorrel a sense of safety and support. “Don’t
worry. Luke will catch all the culprits. He’s good at his job. Are you ready to
leave?”

“I’ll just grab my mother’s books from the
office,” Sorrel said. “And my recipe book from the workshop.”

Jake took her hand and turned in the
direction of the office.

“Are you going?” Sister Andrea asked.

“As soon as I get my mother’s books,”
Sorrel said.

“I thought you’d stay and help us regain
our original form and intent,” Sister Andrea said.

“No, I have a job now. I’m ready for
change.”

“But what will we do?” another sister
asked. “We need a leader.”

“You do,” Sorrel said. “But it won’t be me.
You need a man or woman who treats everyone as equal, someone who is open and
transparent in their dealings. Have a meeting. Everyone interested in the job
should toss their names in a hat then hold an election.”

“Yes,” Sister Andrea said, her gaze on the
distant horizon, her brow puckered as if she were involved in heavy thinking.
“Yes,” she mused. “I’m tired of following the orders of a man, tired of the way
we’ve been treated. I think we should have a female leader for a change. We
need to make money. How will we do that?”

“Keep up the lease on the shop and sell the
extra produce. Make jams and chutneys. Those who are skilled at needlework or
woodwork could make other things to sell. You need to assess your skills and
make a plan,” Sorrel said.

Sister Andrea nodded, once again
thoughtful. “Yes. Yes,” she said. “We must call a meeting.” She hurried off to
join a cluster of women and started talking, hands flashing in punctuation of
her words.

When Sorrel and Jake reached the office,
the door was locked, but the distinct sound of rustling and frantic whispers
reached them.

Jake rapped sharply on the door. “Open up.
Now.” Authority rang out along with his words.

More frantic whispering sounded.

“Problem?” Luke asked from behind them.