Stolen (A Bad Boy Romance #2)

I almost didn’t pause, but I realized that Michael was not outside the door like he should’ve been. No, he must’ve been inside.

Curious, I pulled out my phone and turned on the app that would let me see everything. Let me hear it all.

I was just in time for a very important conversation.

“Do you really want to see your father pay?” he asked, sliding a sandwich towards her. “Or are you just f*ck
ing around?”

“What?” Kat swallowed then grabbed her sandwich. “Yes. I wanna f*ck
ing make him pay.” She took a bite of that sandwich.

“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. “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.”

What the f*ck
? Those two were conspiring against us? All the blood in my cock immediately flew to my brain as anger overwhelmed me. I opened the door with a quick loud bang and stormed into the room.

“The f*ck
, man? I get you this job, I work hard for all this shit, and this is how you f*ck
ing repay me?”

I was raging at him from the other side of the apartment and I saw the look in his eyes.

It wasn’t one of fear. It was all challenge.

“Keep coming at me if you can honestly say you don’t want your father to go down. I can make all of that happen. I can put you and Greyson at the top. You just have to say the word.” He held up a hand. “Otherwise kill me. Don’t let them get to me, kill me or let me go.”

My father. All that rage directed away from Michael so quickly. The feel of the burns on my back, the ones I never let any woman see. Not even her.

I looked at Kathryn, then back at Michael.

“Is this what you want?” I asked, a snarl still in my voice. “Do you hate your father that much?”

“I saw him kill my uncle.” She said the words with such hate I could tell she’d never spoken them before. Her body was trembling. “I saw him put two bullets right in his head and then he slumped to the ground. Right outside, by our old play set, Janson. I watched as he called a team and had him cleaned up.” She wrapped her arms around her own body. “I hate that son of a bitch. The only man in the family that was halfway decent to me besides Greyson, and he killed him. He did it last February. You wanna know why I ran away? He’s why. I don’t want anything to do with this family. Not if he is at the head of it.”

So many emotions swarmed over me as I fought my anger, my urge to reach out and beat the ever living daylight out of Michael, but only for being the closest person in the room. I needed to pound on something.

“And so, you offer a card? Who is this fool and what is he even going to do?” I asked.

I should’ve just ended him right there, but I was curious.

“People who have been trying to get rid of your fathers for a very long time.”

“Mob?” I asked

He shook his head.

“Feds?”

He didn’t say anything.

“No, no f*ck
ing police. I won’t be a part of that shit.”

“They have enough shit on all of you to put everyone away, Janson. Just need a little bit more. You can make an agreement now, and stay out, or you can rot.”

“No Feds,” I repeated. I wouldn’t be a f*ck
ing rat. They’d kill me if they found out. They would all kill me. It would be slow and painful, too. No way in hell was I going to cooperate.

“No,” I said. “We aren’t going to talk about this again. Get the f*ck
out of here, Michael. Go back to Pittsburgh, go anywhere. I don’t want to be the one to kill your ass.” I waved him away in a fury.

f*ck
no, there was no way in hell I would have any of it.

I had to f*ck
ing call Greyson. He had to know about this shit.

Jesus Christ. It was all a steaming pile of shit.





Chapter Eight



Kathryn



“Did you think there was going to be an easy way out?” Janson asked after Michael left. His fingernails dug into the counter, the tips of them pure white. He was fuming. I could see by the way his shoulders heaved up and down that it was going to be a difficult conversation. The man was on the verge of violence.

“I think something needs to be done, I think my father needs to pay for what he did,” I said.

He was angry, violent, but I had to believe it wouldn’t extend to me. He said he would never hurt me, and I had to believe that.

“They need to be stopped, Janson. I mean, really.” I was just as angry. I could spit, claw, scream.

I’d confided in him the deepest darkest secret I had. The one that I had sworn to take to my grave, because if not, I would become a target. I knew my father. I knew what he was capable of. I knew exactly what would happen to me if he knew that I knew what he did. I saw him, but he never saw me. I hid while he searched the house, double checking for witnesses. I dreamed about it every single f*ck

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