Free The Delilah Complex by MJ Rose Page B

family, too, aren’t you? A certain kind of family?” I asked.
    Anne’s shoulders heaved in a quiet sob. “Yes, we are,” she said softly.
    “We are a group of women who believe in fulfilling our sexual potential beyond the ways that society deems acceptable. We have refused to be afraid of what we want.” Shelby said, taking back the reins.
    I had to get the other women talking.
    “What does it feel like to set the rules and the terms you want?” I asked, looking from Bethany to Liz to Davina, hoping to engage them.
    Davina smiled. She was tall and shapely, with coffeebrown hair cut short to show off her heart-shaped face. Everything about her was lovely, except for fingernails bitten down so low there was dried blood on some of the cuticles. “It feels limitless,” she said.
    “Anyone else?” I asked.
    Martha, who appeared to be the youngest member of the group, smiled at me. “It feels right to me.”
    No one else volunteered. It was becoming clear that I was going to have to work to find out what was bothering these women. “Can one of you describe the mission of the society?”
    Shelby and Ellen both began to speak. They exchanged a glance. With a nod, Ellen acquiesced and Shelby began.“Since its inception, the society’s purpose has been to create an environment for women who want to be in power, where they can act out their sexual fantasies with men who are willing to be their sex partners.”
    “Why aren’t any of the men here?” I asked.
    “They don’t belong to the society. It’s our club and they are invited guests. We don’t have relationships with them. We don’t become their friends, or fall in love with them. They are just there to please us. Do you understand?”
    I nodded, wondering why she was being so emphatic. I would have preferred she talk less so that the others could talk more, but it was also instructive to observe how the group deferred to her.
    “What kind of men do you invite?”
    “For the most part they are successful, highly respected and often powerful men, each of whom has gone through an extensive screening process. Sexually, the one thing they have in common is their preference to be submissive. Usually, we have about twice as many men on our roster as women—so we have about thirty now. All of them are invited to our weekly soirées. As long as a man accepts three out of every five invitations he remains active.”
    It appeared that she could go on talking indefinitely, but Cara, another of the women in sunglasses, interrupted. Her dirty blond hair was pulled back off her face, her olive skin stretched tight over prominent bones. Her voice was low and soft, and I had to lean forward a little to hear her.
    “Last week we found out that one of the men who has been with us the longest had been reported missing by the partners at his company.” She hesitated. “People wondered if he’d been kidnapped. None of us even knew his name until the article ran in the paper, with his picture.”
    Anne lowered her head once more and a tear fell into her lap. Martha covered her mouth with her hand as if to stop herself from talking. Shelby focused on Cara, watching her intently. Ginny, who hadn’t yet spoken, took off her large silver-and-onyx ring and then put it back on, as if this action in some way centered her.
    Cara had stopped mid-sentence but clearly had something else she wanted to say.
    “Go on,” I encouraged.
    “His name was Philip Maur. It was bad enough that he was missing. Then last Friday the
New York Times
reported that he’d been killed.”
    I was shocked and hoped it didn’t show on my face.
    Davina, who had started to cry, asked me, “Did you see the article?”
    “I did,” I said, and clearly remembered that moment in the greenroom at the
Today
show when I’d read the story and seen the letters at the bottom of the page that spelled out Detective Noah Jordain’s name.
    “The problem is, how do we cope with this?” Finally, Ellen got to the