A Real Bad Boy(37)

I could deal with it all in the morning.





Chapter Three



Kathryn



I wanted to stay. I wanted to wake him up and let him know that I was  still there. That I wanted him. But the rush of my heartbeat, the  anxiety in my gut, it all told me I needed to leave. I needed to take  off and never look back.

He was a part of the people who were trying to cage me. To take away my freedom. Staying here would just hasten the process.

I needed to get out. I needed to breathe.

I needed my violin.

Music. Music was what I needed.

I pushed his arm up above me so that it was hanging in the air,  supported by my own hand, and slipped underneath it, letting it down  slowly. Janson was still sleeping, the flutter of his eyelids the only  sign he felt me move. I was going to have to be careful. I slid off the  bed and onto the floor, then stood, tiptoeing out of the room.

I was always good at being stealthy. One of the nice things about not  being noticed at home was that if I was quiet enough, I could escape  without anyone knowing I was even gone.

I opened room after room until I found one that looked like it might  have some women's clothing in it. Each one was an office, a very  masculine bedroom, or a studio, except this one. The dusty rose walls  and the jewelry display let me know that I might be able to find  something.

I opened drawer after drawer as quietly as possible, grabbing panties, a  sports bra, an athletic shirt, and finally a pair of yoga pants that  were probably a size too big, but would fit for my purposes.

There was a whole wardrobe here. He could've found me anything else to  wear but that slinky little nightgown he picked out for me.

Maybe I wasn't the only one who'd made a decision last night.

I dressed as quickly as possible and then rooted around in the closet  until I found a pair of sneakers that didn't have pink or bright neon on  them. They were an old black pair, but they would have to do.

I needed to get my ass back to the collective. Moose would be looking for me at studio time, and my violin was still there.

I couldn't just leave my violin, it was too important. It was my best friend.

I'd been a loner through high school, choosing music over people, but I  always had my violin. My mother started me on the violin, but this one  was different. A gift from my uncle and spectacularly fancy it was  "something to aspire to."

I'd mastered the loaner I learned on and was using it by my second year  in. I'd taken perfect care of it, too, never let it get too humid,  always made sure it was in good shape. I'd babied that thing. I proved I  was worth the Guarneri he purchased for me.

And then I abandoned it when Janson came calling.

I ground my teeth. I'd forgotten a lot of priorities when I saw him.  When I got the opportunity to take what I wanted. Now I had it. I had  him. He'd taken my virginity, and I never even told him. Nineteen and a  virgin, I already felt like such a fool. If he'd known, he may not have  gone through with it, and I wanted him so bad.

Truth be told, I still wanted the big barrel-chested man sleeping in the  next room. Fuck. I needed to get the hell away from here, away from  him, and clear my head.

It was either that or crawl on top of him and demand round two of last night's escapades.

I slipped out of the spare bedroom and down the hall to the living room.  He'd left his wallet in a bowl by the door. I saw him put it there when  he came in. If it was still there, I could probably grab enough cash  for a cab and not have to take the bus. The subway didn't go to Humboldt  Park, and I wanted nothing to do with the bus. Or walking. It was too  dangerous in the part where Moose's row house was.                       
       
           



       

I spotted the wallet exactly where he left it and rifled through it,  finding exactly what I needed. I took about half the cash in the  billfold and stuck it in the pocket of the yoga pants before I headed  out.

I thought to leave a note, but at the last moment I decided against it.

I didn't even know if I was going to come back.





Janson



The peaceful sleep I'd felt faded away to the terror of a dream. My  father and his cigars, burning them into my body. I reached for Kathryn,  to hold her close to me and push away the dream, but she wasn't there.  Her body wasn't there to keep me warm. I sat up like a shot, my eyes  open, and looked around. Maybe she just scooched to the very end of the  bed.

Fuck. She wasn't in the bedroom either.

"Kat? Kathryn?" I called out across the condo. No response. I got up and  did a quick survey of the apartment. She was nowhere to be found.

Greyson warned me that it wouldn't be so easy to keep her in the condo. He said she was spirited. Fuck.

Fuck. She was fucking gone. I'd checked the entire apartment top to bottom. I knew she'd taken off.

I fucking lost Greyson's kid sister.

What was worse was that I fucked her. I'd taken her into my bed and I let her see me. All of me.

I was fucking dead and somehow, I didn't care. I was glad about what I did, I had no regrets.

Ironic, wasn't it? I thought. Greyson fucking destroyed my sister, but I touched his and I'd lose a finger for it. Or my cock.

I swallowed hard and grabbed my phone, checking the voicemails. Three from Greyson.

I knew if I didn't call him back soon he was going to get impatient.

I grabbed my phone and dialed.

"How's she doing?" he asked and I paused, long.

"She's fine." She was, at least the last time I saw her.

"She slipped you, didn't she?" I could almost hear his ‘I told you so'  through the phone. What a fucking asshole. At least he wasn't pissed.

"You told me this wouldn't be so easy."

I could hear him chuckle in the background. I let out a small breath of  relief. I never knew what he was going to fucking think. Especially  since Joanna walked into his life and turned his world upside down.

I didn't know what I thought of her; she brought out a softness in him  that was dangerous. I'd seen it before-he had a clear weakness, one that  could be exploited, and it would come back to haunt him. To haunt us. I  couldn't dismiss her completely, though, because he also had a  protective fierceness that I knew he needed. Especially if he was going  to run the family.

I could be coldhearted enough for us both.

"I'll fucking get her and bring her back," I said, the anger in my veins ready to burst.

"I told you, you might have to hogtie her."

"I'll do it if I have to, but we'll try diplomacy first."

If that didn't work, I would fucking throw that shit right out the window.



***



"Where the fuck is she?" I asked, the throat of the kid I had against  the wall so small under my hands. I could crush it easily. I'd done it  to bigger men with little trouble.

But I had to show restraint. I didn't want to involve my cousin, didn't  want to get his family up in my business. They knew I was here, and I  promised I'd keep it quiet while I was in Chicago. Not to cause  problems.

"Who?" he squeaked out. The boy squirmed under me and I swear to god, he was about to piss himself.

"Kathryn. Kat. New girl, older teenager, deep red hair, thin?" I said  slowly, waiting for him to realize who I was talking about.

"Oh, the violin girl? The one Moose wants to bang?" He chuckled. He  didn't fully appreciate the situation. I squeezed that neck just a  little harder, cutting off his breath in short bursts.

Motherfucker. The rage that boiled through me was so much more personal. Unexpected.

No one was going to touch her but me.

I hadn't admitted it, not out loud, not yet, but I knew it as soon as I  thought it. Kathryn was mine. She was going to be mine. I had to protect  her at all costs.

"She's at the studio, man! Over on Potomac. Old house converted. Funkyjunk."

I dropped him on his ass and turned in order to storm out of the  building. I had too much shit to do to stand around. I needed to go and  get her. Drag her back if need be.

I wasn't fucking playing around anymore.

Protect the family, it was part of my directive, but this was different.  This had nothing to do with the family and everything to do with her.  With us.

I wasn't going to just let her walk away from what we shared last night.  I wasn't going to be able to survive the hunger I held deep inside for  her.                       
       
           



       





Kathryn



"There you are, punk. Thought you weren't coming in." Moose smiled wide  at me. "Didn't see you around the collective this morning. Don't you  look fancy? All clean and shit."

He looked it himself. He didn't sleep at the collective row house, but  had an apartment above the studio. It's where I showered normally, where  a lot of us did.

"Had some family matters to attend to," I said. "You bring my fiddle?"

"Yeah, I've got it." He sipped his coffee then ran his hand through his  beard. It came out about two inches from his face and was impeccably  groomed. They called him Moose because of his slight Canadian accent and  his lumberjack feel. I just went along with it. "So, you going to play  with me tonight?" he asked as he looked me over.