I hadn’t meant for this to happen, but holding her close in my arms, I didn’t regret anything. She looked so peaceful with her eyes half closed, her breathing heavy. She was falling asleep in my arms and I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to breathe. It might cause her to shift away from me. So many nights I spent clutching my pillows, my screams, my terror keeping me from sleep, but with her in my arms, my eyelids already felt heavy. A woman in my arms, that was the only thing that kept the demons of the night away. The only thing that kept the truth of my life from overwhelming me.
I had a feeling it was going to be one of my few peaceful nights.
“Janson?” Kathryn murmured, her voice trailing off at the end of my name.
“What, Kat?” I asked as I brushed back a strand of her hair.
“You can’t tell Greyson. You can’t tell anyone.” She gripped me tighter and her breathing got heavier. We’d already gone over this once, but she was scared.
I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was terrified of him finding out.
His name was like ice injected into my veins. f*ck
. He was going to kill me. If he didn’t, his father would. And I wasn’t exaggerating. They’d torture me, then tie cement blocks to my feet and leave me in the f*ck
ing Bay.
I knew that was the truth because I’d been the one to tie the blocks, I’d seen the terrified faces of men who crossed the family and didn’t live to do it twice.
I knew the kind of animalistic rage that pushed a man to murder. Greyson was no stranger to slaughter and neither was I.
So this was going to have to remain our little secret.
“I won’t utter a word,” I said as I clutched her. I knew this was a mistake, but I could deal with it in the morning. “Like we agreed.”
I never expected this, never expected to have a secret I needed so desperately to keep. I’d stolen her from her family, I’d taken her away into my own little world, and there was no way I was going to let her go. My possessive nature took over as I clung to her and I knew the truth. I hadn’t gotten enough of her, not yet.
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.