Stolen: A Bad Boy Romance (31 page)

Joanna

I was so glad to be out of that dress and on the street. I’d asked Mae to let me out of the car as soon as we hit the inner harbor. I told her I needed the walk home.

It wasn’t a lie. It was all just clouding my mind. I couldn’t really think about what was happening, and the fresh air was enough to make me feel just a little bit safer.

“Joanna?” I had heard him before I saw him, and I turned to see David standing there, smiling at me.

“David?” I gasped, just a little bit of air escaping from my lips, making me doubt this newfound freedom.

“I was walking by, and I thought it was you. I turned around, and I couldn’t just say nothing. How do you feel about going for coffee?” he asked, a charming smile on his face.

I wanted to say no, run to my apartment and call Greyson, but I couldn’t turn down that smile or those eyes.

They tore right through my soul just like Greyson’s. I hesitated.

“Coffee?” he asked. “It’s just a drink, it won’t kill you.”

“I can do coffee,” I said as I considered it. “I know a little place just around the corner.”

“Beans and Things? One of my favorites.” He started down the alley and across the street to the coffee house that was so small and obscure that it was easy to miss.

“I like it because it is so inconspicuous.” I walked in, the smell of coffee and chocolates from the baked goods filling my nostrils. It was delicious. Heavenly.

I stopped there every time I was in town, and now that I lived there it was more like a daily affair. I’d gotten to know all of the staff quickly.

I stepped up to the cash register and ordered my usual. The barista, Shelly, smiled and waved at me, then at David.

“Two regulars, do you know each other?” she asked as she handed over our coffees.

“We’re getting to know one another,” David said as he shoved a wad full of cash into the tip jar. “I like the table in the corner. It’s quiet. Nice.” He bent down and whispered it into my ear and I felt all the hairs on my head standing on end. I just nodded and followed him towards the back, a hot beverage in my hand.

“Have you made a decision on graduate school?” he asked as we sat down.

“I have, I’m going to send in that leave of absence. I need time no matter what the outcome is. It’s been a trying semester, already and with everything that has happened, I’m behind.” It was the truth. There was no way I could pass my classes with all the assignments and sessions I’d missed.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I remember how excited you were when we met that first time. The look in your eyes said it all.” He sipped his coffee then said, “My family has a way of taking the person you are and twisting it into something you couldn’t even imagine was real.”

It was a truth I felt in the very pit of my soul. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t physically attracted to him, I was. His muscled form and his deep grey-green eyes were enough to keep me interested, but they reminded me of someone else.

Greyson.

“So why are you walking around Inner Harbor?” I asked, happy to change the subject. “I got out of work a little early today, had some errands to run for my father. What about you?”

“Just got back from D.C..” We were both edging around the truth; I could feel it. It was one of those moments when two people try to make what they did sound slightly different than it was. More cheerful, less fear inducing.

“Did you enjoy DC?” he asked.

“It was overwhelming. I’ll be honest, I’m always going to be a Baltimore girl at heart,” I answered.

“Yeah, me too. Well, not a girl, obviously, but I’ll never move over that way. I love this city. It was where I was born and raised. And it’s where I hope to build a good life.” His eyes locked on me and I knew what he was trying to say, what he was trying to ask. He wanted to know if I was going to be a part of that life.  If I was going to make my choice.

But he wasn’t pushing, and I could appreciate that. I felt like he was being genuine, and that mattered to me.

“Do you even know him?” David asked.

“What?” I asked as he pulled me out of my trance.

“Greyson. What do you know about him?”

“Astoundingly little, I’m afraid.”

“If you want I can fill you in on the basics.” He glanced at me then his phone which was sitting on the table.

“I dunno,” I said slowly. It was pretty damn tempting. “I don’t think that would be very fair. I haven’t asked him to tell me all about you.”

“It would probably be just as complementary,” he said, his mouth twisted up into a smirk. I had to agree there. “Just, don’t trust him. Or me. Any of us. This isn’t the world you want to get caught up in, Jo.”

“I appreciate your honesty, but I don’t think I have much of a choice,” I admitted. It was the truth, and he knew it. I was already caught up into this world. I’d been born into it. Nothing was going to change that.

“Shit, I’ve got to go. Duty calls,” he said as he looked down at his phone.

Duty. The family. Right.

I kept forgetting exactly what he was. Exactly who he was.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he said as he got up to leave. “I’ll see you around.”

I just nodded and took a sip of my own.

Peace at last.

Chapter Thirteen

Greyson

I stared down at the text on my phone. “I want to talk to you, Greyson. I have questions.” Joanna. She hadn’t send anything else, just that text. It was the only one I’d ever gotten from her.

What kind of questions did she have? What did she know? I bit my lip and put it to the back of my mind.

“Are you present?” my father asked.

I shoved the phone in my pocket and nodded. “I’m here.”

“Good. I need you for this.” Janson was to my right and his father just behind them. The four of us working together wasn’t new, but it hadn’t happened in almost a decade. I’d gone to my father told him I wanted more. That I wanted to be a part of all of the family business.

Fuck just working at the factory. Fuck staying out of it. I needed to show him that I could run the companies he wanted. That I could run the family too. No matter what it took.

“Yeah, I’m all here.” I said. I was, I was there. I just had to put her out of my mind. I’d deal with it later. My father’s little “field trip” with David led to some interesting news. A rat. A nasty one.

“Janson, do your thing,” Michael said to him and Janson just nodded then broke the door down. Mob bosses acting like fucking lower rung men, it was insane. But they fucking loved to do it. And to show up to these kinds of things. Kept the traitors on their toes. He’d been dealing with a lot of unrest lately and this latest backstabbing attempt sent him over the top.

The asshole was threatening to go to another family if he didn’t get an increase in his takeaway from the heroin trade, he was in negotiations with them according to the informant David put on ice. My dad promptly made plans to torture this douchebag to find out who was tempting him. And then, of course, kill him. That’s what I was doing there, salivating at the mouth to get to this piece of filth.

That’s right, salivating. I didn’t let this part of me out very often, but when I did, it was fucking heaven.

Torture that was my forte. It always had been. I was good at it. Too good.

What’s worse was that I liked it.  I liked playful torture in the bedroom and real torture out there in the real world. I loved the ability to give and take away pain. It made me feel like a god. It felt good to sink a blade into someone’s flesh. To make them scream. I loved it when I made them tell me everything, and then took away the pain. It was sick, it was wrong.

But I was a monster after all.

Storming a house was nothing to the four of us. It didn’t matter that we had to knock out six junkies on the way in, we knew exactly who we were going for. The one at the very top, running the whole thing.

We found him at the top level of the dirty house, sitting on a moth eaten couch.

My heart rate spiked as I breathed in his fear. It was palpable.

“I know you were not expecting a visit, but your recent behavior has certainly warranted one.” My father liked to use a grandiose tone when he was punishing people. One that let them know exactly where his authority lay. It was somewhat juvenile, but we all had our things. He grabbed a chair and took a seat. The man liked to watch the bloodshed, but he was never one for getting his hands dirty. Unless the mood struck.

Me, I wanted to spill some blood. I had very little tolerance for traitors. It was one thing to want out, it was another entirely to switch sides.

“Not every day two major made men and their sons showed up at your door. Not to mention the fact that the men in question ran the fucking mob you were running your mouth about.” Michael’s words seethed, the true power of a second in command. “Who were you talking to?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Already with the denials. I could see it in his face. He was lying.

“Do you really want to go down that road and play that game?” I asked as I shoved him against the wall. I pulled out an intricate dagger, one I used for all these little jobs. It had served me well over the years. I held it up to his cheekbone.

It would spill blood and leave a nasty scar, but it wouldn’t do much damage there. It was my calling card. I dug into the flesh and watched as a slow trickle of blood fell from the cut and turned into a flow.

“What the fuck?” the guy asked.

“That’s just for wasting my fucking time. J. Hold him down.” Janson was my right hand. The man was perfectly suited to me.

“You answer the big man’s questions or I’ll dig into that skin of yours. And I really wanna leave a trail of blood.” Torture. Interrogation. It was all the same to me.

“Why did you think leaving was a good idea, Jordy?” Michael asked. He was going to draw it out.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” Jordy answered, his eyes wide. “I would never leave the family.”

“I was hoping he’d say that.” I traced a line down that cheek along his jaw leaving a trail of blood in its wake. It was barely there. Just surface. Nothing that was going to kill him.

But it did hurt.

“Keep lying and I go from drawing pretty lines in your flesh to cutting off fingers.” I grinned at him and Janson pushed him harder against the wall.

“I got approached.”

“By who?” Michael asked.

“I, I don’t know his name. He just approached me, said he knew what I did. Who I was. That he had an offer for me.” The asshole was sincere. He wasn’t lying. Dammit. I wanted to sink my knife into something more substantial.

I bit back a growl.

“Then what?” Michael crossed his arms, and I looked back at my father. He was pleased. I could tell by the look on his face. I was back to doing what he wanted. I was thriving in the world that he had created, not fighting it.

“I never met anyone who was as important. Never knew their names, but I knew the family they worked for. They wanted information.”

“What family?” I asked. I knew it wasn’t my place, but I didn’t care. I wanted a reason, any reason.

I could see him hesitating. If he named the family he was dead, but if he didn’t he was dead. It was an impossible situation. The only thing he could do was choose the time. Now, or later.

I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was choosing later.

“O’Brien.” I paled as he said it. It was not a name I wanted to hear, and I could tell by the look on my father’s face that any enjoyment of the situation was gone.

He just nodded at me.

I knew what needed to be done. I didn’t hesitate because I wanted to, I did it because of the face I saw in my mind. The one that would run if she knew what I was about to do.

Joanna.

I slit his throat in one quick motion then turned away from him, not bothering to look, not wanting to enjoy what happened next.

It was quick, at least there was that.

“Now what?” I asked as I cleaned my blade on a rag and placed it back into my belt.

“We talk about the options.”

Joanna

I stared at the phone just waiting for him to call, text, something. But he didn’t. It was all radio silence from Greyson Fitzgerald. Would he even acknowledge it?

Of course he would, why wouldn’t he? He’d always answered my questions, listened to me, talked about the things that were bothering me. It had never been a problem before.

I looked through my phone to find a lone text, from Claire, the woman from the party.

Hey, got your number from a friend. Want to do lunch?-Claire

Sure. When?
I answered. She knew Greyson, knew him from before. I needed to know exactly what I was getting into. I was curious.  I needed to talk to someone, but it couldn’t be Claire. She wasn’t the type of person I could trust.

No, I needed to get in touch with the only person who knew me. Except I hadn’t told her jack-shit about what was happening to me lately. She was going to be pissed. Probably threaten to beat my ass.

That was just like Willa.

I pressed her name on the contact list and waited for the phone to start ringing. Willa and I had been friends since middle school. It was a classic situation I was being bullied, she saved me from the bully. We were inseparable from then until the end of college when she went off and got a job in the city and I stayed behind to “find myself”. We talked all the time and got together, but it wasn’t unreasonable for either of us to go days or weeks without a chat.

“What’s up, lady?” she asked her voice cheerful as she answered.

“Quite a lot, actually. How much do you want to hear?” I answered, smiling. Her cheery disposition always lifted me up a little higher.

“I’m just getting out of work now, wanna meet up at The Hive for coffee?” It was her favorite diner, a fifties style place that served all the usual fare and locally roasted coffee.

“Actually, I’m not in Glen Burnie. I’m in Federal Hill.”

“What are you doing there?” I knew she lived in Fells Point, just a few blocks away but this whole time I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about any of this. It just seemed too surreal. I kept thinking that I was going to wake up from a dream and I would be in my little apartment with my books and my life. But it wasn’t a dream. It was real, and it wasn’t going to just disappear.

“It’s a long story?” I said.

“Meet me at Down by the Tea Shore.” It was a ritzy little tea and coffee shop with astronomical prices.

“Oh, sure,” it didn’t seem like Willa, but I didn’t question it. I needed to talk to her, now.

It didn’t take long to get there, and as soon as I walked in I saw her seated, a book in her hand. It was simple and quiet and pretty. Now I understood. Willa loved quiet places where she could read.

“So, what is this long story you’ve been hiding from me?” she asked. “Don’t worry about the tea, I already ordered your favorite, chai.”

“I love a girl who gets me,” I said as I slunk down into the chair beside her. I had a lot to tell her and it was going to be a long one.

***

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you are marrying a billionaire crime boss who just happens to be hot as hell?” she asked. I’d unloaded everything, left nothing back. Well, except for the steamy details. She scowled at me, but I promised to tell her more later.

“He’s not a billionaire, his father is, but probably a millionaire, I don’t know his net worth,” I scowled as she waved me away.

“Whatever, same difference. He’ll be a billionaire eventually.” She crossed her legs then uncrossed them then slammed her hands down. “Jesus, Jo. This is a huge freaking bomb on my head.”

I swallowed.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Well, it all just kind of happened.” I sipped my tea and looked around. This was the kind of place I usually felt totally out of touch with. Hipsters with their tight pants and thick glasses, business men and women sitting down for a cup of coffee after work. Hell, I imagined even upscale people came in. It wasn’t for me.

“Oh, Joanna, I thought that was you, I saw you from the window and just had to come in.” Claire’s voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

I turned in my seat to see her waving at me a small bag in her hand.

“Oh, don’t peak in the bag, it’s part of your bridal shower gift. I thought I would shop myself instead of sending someone.” She grinned. “A low key surprise wedding! You could’ve told me at the dinner, I hated making a fool of myself.”

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“The bridal shower invitations came this morning, special delivery. Wedding invitations to follow. I assume you’ve hired Mary Fitzgerald to do all the work? She runs the prettiest little florist shop down in Fells, but her real talent lies with wedding planning. It makes perfect sense.”

“I-” I stammered.

“What Joanna means to say is, ‘Hi, this is my best friend in all the world, Willa.’ She’s just a bit of a forgetful bridezilla these days,” Willa extended a hand.

“Ooh, I like you.”

“Now, what about this bridal shower?” she asked.

“I guess they didn’t invite any of my family or friends yet,” I said. The truth was I knew nothing about this, I had no idea what was happening.

“Oh, here, take my invite, I already have it written in my calendar,” she handed the note over to us.

It was gorgeous. Pretty and antique, with a lace accent just like my gown.

“Wow, these must’ve been a fortune, and to get them printed up so quickly?”

“Express delivered. Very mysterious and classy if you ask me,” Claire chimed in.

I could feel my world starting to close in around me. This was all real. Oh god. It was happening, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“You’ll have to give Mary a call, let her know your contacts,” Claire said. “I’ll text you later a good day for lunch, hon. Congratulations. Again.” I nodded as she stepped out of the shop and back on to the street. Mary had called three times today already, but I let it go to voicemail. I was too conflicted to answer it.

“Do you even know who you were talking to?” Willa asked.

“Claire. Some woman I met at a party a few days ago, why?” I asked.

“Clare Morgan is one of the most influential women in the entire city. She’s a designer and a damn good one. We do business with her company.” Willa ran ads in the Baltimore-DC metro area. She was actually exceptionally good at it.