REBEL

Chapter One

                    New York City
                     June 2018

" I'm not doing it. "

Dominic David Gaines stood up to his full six foot three and glared with all the repressed fury in his big broadly build body at the bane of his life.

The bane merely snorted and leaned back in her leather swivel chair behind her enormous glass topped desk. She crossed her long shapely fishnet stocking clad legs and swung one in time to the raucous blues song that belted from her high tech stereo system. Her slanted dark eyes twinkled at him as she grumbled," A good son always obeys his mother, Dom. "

Dom rolled his own dark brown eyes at her and fought the urge to stick out his tongue at her. Of course if he had his ass would be grass and her foot the lawn mower. Yes he was a big bold and supposedly bad former NYPD homicide detective who had a rep for being mean as a rattlesnake with herpes but he came by that naturally. Sixty five year old Ariel Saunders Gaines stood only four foot eleven and weighed a puny ninety pounds soaking wet but the proud stance of the Black woman's designer suited body and the deadly glint in her eyes was more than enough to alert any fool that she wore the pants in the family. Not only was she the head of Gaines Investigation, the best security firm on the East Coast but she was a black belt in karate and a NRA card carrying crackshot with every one of her sixteen guns. To put it lightly Ariel had taught him and his four brothers everything they knew. And the damn woman never let them forget it.

" He doesn't when she's trying to pamper him with the most boring cases that ever fell off a tractor trailer. I'm fine, Ma ! I was shot two years ago. Two years and you still give me soft ball stuff to work. This is not why I came to work with you. "

Ariel tossed back her French rolled silver haired head and laughed brashly. " You mean work for me ! I'm the boss if you could see fit to remember. This is hardly soft ball. This is the stalking of the most popular performer since Elvis. I'm surprised you're not more intrigued. "

Dom snorted. " Intrigued over what? A spoiled rotten pop star with an overactive imagination who needs to be babysat ? "

He tapped a finger on the glossy fan magazine that graced her cluttered desk. It showed the handsome smirking face of the guy called Rebel. He ignored the tightness that moved across his lower half at the look in those weird eyes of his ; one blue and one green. Rebel was pleading to get fucked and get fucked good and hard. Shit. No. He wasn't intrigued by some drama queen. Guy wasn't gay anyway. Not according to all the magazines that kept yammering about him and his girl of the moment.

Ariel shook her head and lifted a well groomed eyebrow. " It's not a babysitter gig. Not according to the manager. Wait until you read the letters. "

Dom knew he would regret asking but he did. " What letters ? "

She handed him an unsealed manilla envelope which he took reluctantly. The first photocopied letter he read had him swallowing back a sharp cuss word that would gotten him whooped in the head by Ariel.

" This is sick. " His eyes fell down to the beautiful sensual face on the magazine. Suddenly he wanted to protect that face from everything and anything.

His mother thinned her lips. " It gets sicker. Keep reading,boy. "