***
“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.
He always gave me that same creepy look, like he wanted to eat me or some shit. Thank god he never approached me.
He was asking me to play with him down in the arts district. He was an expert at finding a spot, playing it, avoiding the beat cops. I’d gone down a couple of times with him and the group. In fact, that was how he found me. I was staying in Chicago with some friends from high school, playing music on a street corner, when he came upon me.
I got to know him and eventually I moved into the damn co-op. My friends were all in college, they’d been too busy to hang, and I knew couch surfing could only last for so long.
“What pieces do you want to do?” I asked. I could use a cut of the money. Might be enough to get me a bus ticket to the next city over. Moose said he had friends in Indianapolis.
Why in the hell are you thinking about bailing? He’ll find you. They’ll always find you. I waved the thought away as I listened to Moose ramble off a bunch of pieces he thought the tourists would love. College kids were coming in this time of year, setting up their housing and getting started with classes, so they would make good targets. Not to mention all the people who visited the windy city.
It was so different from Baltimore. Sometimes, I missed the smell of the Bay, the humidity of the ocean that hung over us, and the feel of a city that had so much grit it was coming out of my ears. But Chicago was beautiful, and it had its fair share of grit.
It was a good second home.
“Let’s do a rehearsal of the music and then get in there.”
I’d written a few original songs for the compilation tape he was doing. It was meant to be my audition album. The kind of thing I could use in order to get gig after gig. At first, when he offered me the chance, I thought he was full of shit. But I had to hand it to Moose, he really seemed like the kind of guy who could get shit done. He had his own little studio, a group of people who were as dedicated to music as we were, and he hadn’t lied to me about giving me practice time and studio time.
I ran through the first song one time with him and then hopped into the studio. It was a little room he’d prepped himself with material to soundproof it.
As soon as I stepped into that room, I felt like myself. I opened my case and got my violin out, my fingers touching the soft, silky wood of it. I knew as soon as I started playing I would lose myself. Lose all the drama of last night and all the memories of him touching my body.
I could just be in the moment. I didn’t have to think. Didn’t have to figure anything out.
This was why I was here. Why I stayed in Chicago.
“All right, start whenever you are ready.” Moose sat back and watched me through the glass.
As soon as I started, I felt the pull of the strings, the vibrations of the music right into my jaw, and I was lost.
Completely and entirely lost to my music. The feel of my fingers on the strings, the lack of frets there making it so much smoother than guitars or mandolins. It was my personal heaven.
Until I looked up and saw Janson storming towards me.
Chapter Four
Janson
“No, you can’t come-” I pushed my way past a tiny little fuckwad and into the studio.
“What the hell?” Kathryn was less than happy to see me.
“You know, that’s a fucking question I’d love to ask you,” I said as I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards me. I wanted to get her out of the damn place, but I wanted to touch her even more.
“Get off her, dude.” I turned to see that little asswipe coming at me. Well, this would be fun and easy.
I clotheslined his ass and watched him fall to the ground. “Shut the fuck up. Moose, I presume?” I asked as he looked up at me.
“The fuck?” Moose asked as he moaned on the ground. At least two other people were coming towards us, but they started to back away.
“Janson, you can’t just come in here.” Kathryn had stopped struggling. “Boys, I have this, go on.”
The men who were crowding around us turned around and backed out. I had to give her that, she was handling it well.
“You know damn well I can do whatever the fuck I want. Did you think that I was just going to walk away and let you stay? You know why I'm here, it has everything to do with orders. I told you I could do this the hard way, and if that’s what you want, that's what I'm willing to do.” I was fucking furious with her. I wanted her in my bed, naked and writhing, not running from me back to these stupid punks.
“I’m not going.”
“You realize if you don’t, I’ll have to tie your ass up, right? Or worse, Greyson will call someone else to do the job. You won’t like that.”
“Will you let me grab my violin?” she asked.
I eyed her skeptically. “Depends, will you take off running the moment I let you go?” Kathryn shook her head.
“Fine, go on, get it.”
She turned and walked over Moose, who was still on the ground, grabbed her case and instrument, stowing it and turning it towards me. “I’m sorry, Moose.” She said as she stepped over him again.
He was still clutching his face.
She swallowed. “I don’t have much of a choice do I?” she asked.
“None of us do,” I answered as I looked her over. It was so regrettable that we didn’t have more time, but Greyson wanted her back home as soon as possible.
Kat looked white as a sheet and I knew then that she was avoiding something. Or someone.
“Let’s go, we have a long drive ahead of us.” As angry as I was, I couldn’t help but admire the way she looked in those clothes.
“We’re driving?” She’d stopped resisting and started walking.
“Did you think I was going to take you through an airport?” I asked. She was smarter than that. “Get your ass in the car.” I omitted the word I wanted to put in front of ass—sexy—and waited for her to slide in, then followed. It would be a comfortable ride, at the very least. One overnight stay and a private limo that would ensure there was enough space between us.
I still wanted her, though. My cock ached just thinking about her writhing under me. But I had to clear my head and figure out how I could make everything work. I had to.
***
I breathed a sigh of relief as we approached Glenburnie then passed through it. We had a place all set up for her, one of the private safe houses only Greyson knew about. The kind meant to keep him safe if there was an attempt on his life from any family member. Even his own father.
No one would look for Kat there.
“Where are we?” she asked as she looked out the window. She was tired. Last night was hard, for both of us. We’d shared a hotel room but I made sure to stay away from her. I’d positioned myself in the chair across the room.
Neither of us talked about the night before.