A Real Bad Boy(43)

Four. A fourth person knew where I was. The man who'd been in the safe  house. I struggled to remember his name. He wasn't programmed into the  phone.

After a long leisurely shower and then breakfast I looked around the room and let out a sigh. I was filled with energy. Bored.

I wanted a walk. I was wearing yesterday's clothing but they were still  pretty clean. I didn't have any money, but I could at least get the  layout of my surroundings.

Surely no one would notice me if I just slipped out of the condo and  went for a stroll around Hamden. It was a cute little hipster hamlet,  one that I'd always liked visiting. I wondered if that antique store was  still there. I could look, couldn't I?

So I opened the door and stuck my head out, only to see a body standing there by the door. Waiting.

Fuck. It was Michael.

That was his name. The fourth contact.

"I had a feeling you'd be popping out to say hi," he said with a smile. "Trying to escape?" he asked.

"I just wanted a little walk," I admitted. I wasn't going to try to run  anywhere, I knew how futile that would be. He stared me down like he was  trying to decide if I was lying or not. I wasn't, but my face got hot  and I felt myself recoiling away. It was a bad idea. A bad idea.

"Why don't I take you? I can say I watched you, that you didn't try to make a break for it, and you can get your walk."

"Really? You would do that?" I asked.

"Why not?" he said. He grinned at me and waited. "We could even buy you  some clothing, on the company dime, of course." He held up a credit card  that had my brother's company name on it.

Exactly what I was hoping for. I smiled wide and nodded. It was going to be interesting.



***



By the third store, both of our eyes were glazed over. I had two bags of clothing and I was starving. "Lunch?" I asked, hopeful.

"Why don't we go back to the penthouse and I'll make you something myself," Michael said.

"You cook?" I asked.

"I make a mean grilled cheese," he said as we turned back down towards Janson's building.

"You know, you are a lot different than I imagined someone like you to  be," I said. I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth.

"You mean I'm not a total dick just because I'm family muscle?" he  asked. There wasn't any anger in his voice. In fact, he seemed amused.

"Yeah," I said, shrugging. "Everyone around my father has always been so  angry. So stoic. I never got to see, well, the rest of it."

"It's probably a good thing. We do a lot you don't want to know about."

I nodded. I knew exactly what he was talking about. I'd always known it.  But after what I saw last spring …  I shook my head. I couldn't even  think about it. It was all just too much. "I bet there is."

He followed me up the stairs of the industrial apartment complex and  into the penthouse on the top floor. It didn't take long for him to get  set up in the kitchen with a griddle and a stack of ingredients.                       
       
           



       

"So, what kind of grilled cheese do you want? Classic, jalapeño or sweet?"

"Sweet?" I asked.

"Mascarpone, strawberries, and just a light drizzle of honey on a sweet brioche bread."

"That one. I want that one." I grinned.

"I thought you might say that." He got to work. "It's one of Janson's favorites."

"You cook for him?" I asked.

"I do, that was originally why I was hired. A second bodyguard and cook for Greyson and Janson."

I'd always thought of Janson as Greyson's bodyguard, but that wasn't  possible. He was the son of the second in command. He was important.  They were part of the problem. They were all part of the family that was  making me stay here. That was making me live this life.

They were both important. And it made me furious.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he stood there looking at me. I must've gone quiet.

"What?" I said. "Oh, yeah. Just tired." It was a lie. I'd been thinking  about Janson. And Greyson. And how angry I was. All of it.

"You look more than tired." He had the sandwich on the griddle now.

"Well, I'm a prisoner here. I'm trapped. It doesn't matter if it's that dump or this nice place, it's fucking ridiculous."

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"I want to play the violin. And I want to make my father pay." The last  part came out as an afterthought, but it was real. Every little bit of  it. I was so angry I could scream.

"The violin I can't take care of, but I understand your feelings about  your father. In fact, if you are that angry, I have a proposition for  you." His voice dipped as he said that and my throat started to close.

What was he asking me?

"What?" I asked.

"Do you really want to see your father pay?" he asked again as he slid my sandwich towards me. "Or are you just fucking around?"

"What?" I swallowed, then grabbed my sandwich. "Yes. I wanna fucking make him pay."

I took a bite of that sandwich. It was sweet and tart and creamy. Damn, he could cook.

"If that's the case, there is someone who wants to do the same thing."  He slid a card across the table with a number on it. "Call him. He'll  arrange a place to meet. Don't tell anyone else. I didn't give this to  you."

He stood and smiled at me. "I know the way you feel about your father, I  feel the same way. Being dragged into a world you don't want to be in  sucks. Don't live that way. I've been living it for years."

Years. That was my destiny. A fling with Janson wasn't going to change that.

I nodded. I didn't choose this life. I didn't want to be in it. I was going to call that number.

Soon.





Janson



Kathryn. I wanted her. Wanted to get my dick wet so bad that I'd  forgotten anything that was being said at the conference meeting. We met  like this twice a week to discuss business. Real business. Yeah, we had  our hands in a lot of pots, and yeah, we beat the ever living fuck out  of people for shit, but we also had a company and a conglomerate to run,  and I was the Vice President of Operations. Sure, I had everything  delegated so that I didn't need to complete a lot of work personally,  but I was responsible for it all.

And that meant I actually had to do my job once in a while.

By noon, it was apparent that I didn't want to be there. I didn't give a  shit about it. All I wanted was to be in between Kat's legs, burying  myself in her over and over again.

But I had shit to sign off on, I had all kinds of people to listen to, and I had new hires to approve.

If I could just get this shit done now, I could go home and surprise her. Let her know she could stay at my place.

I'd already worked it out with Greyson; he agreed that she would be less  likely to bail if she was set up somewhere more comfortable, and it  also meant that I could keep an eye on her to his satisfaction. And two  hands on her to my satisfaction.

The idea of coming home to her made me so fucking stiff, I could barely conceal the hard-on in my pants.

So, I just sat there and hid my erection under the table while I listened to some of my colleagues drone on.

Many of them had no idea that we were running the company as a front;  they thought it was the real deal, and it was. It ran, it operated, it  was essential for our business.

But it was also a front for so much more.

That it was a real business with real plans made it so much harder for  the government to understand what we did. They knew we were up to  something nefarious, but we'd covered our tracks so well no one had been  able to get any inroads.                       
       
           



       

It was genius, really.

I didn't need to be here, listening to facts and figures. It would all  be disseminated for me later anyways. I needed to be home.

I was already so fucking addicted to her and I knew it.

I stood and immediately buttoned my coat jacket, ready to bolt for the  door. I just walked away, made no comment. The room went silent as I did  and I smirked.

They would add it to the stories they would tell about me. I knew I was  the talk of my department. Taking days off, coming and going as I  pleased. They probably hated my guts, but I had their backs.

I always had their backs.

Our business location was in Fells Point, a short ride up to Hamden, but  it felt like for fucking ever, even if I was the one behind the wheel.

I swerved up I-83 passing cars, weaving in and out of traffic until I  got to my exit. It was maybe a ten minute journey, but fuck it all, I  needed to be there now.

I didn't take everything I wanted last night, but I was sure as hell going to do it now.

I rushed into the parking lot and parked in my own private area. It was nice to be the owner. I had all kinds of perks that way.

I hated my father, hell, I pretty much hated the whole family, but money flowed and gave me good opportunities.