His Captive Kitten (Owned and Protected Book 4)

by Measha Stone

  Good thinking.

  “Okay, while you’re doing that, I’ll ask Chris to see if he can track down where the call came from. It might at least give us an idea of what part of town she’s in.”

  Julie stepped out of his embrace. “Good. Yes, let’s do that.”

  “And then we’ll go for a walk. There’s a kickass trail that goes along the water. It’ll give you something to think about besides this crap for a little while.”

  “What, no tail or spanking?” She half smiled. She’d already caught on to his tricks. Not that he did very much to hide them.

  “No. As much as I fucking love that tail on you, it’s too chilly to make you walk through the woods naked. The jeans you’re wearing are fine and grab a sweatshirt too. There’s a pink one in the bag in the bedroom.”

  “How do you do that?” Julie asked.

  “What?”

  “Take this intense, nasty moment and just deflate? I mean, so easily. You just switch us over to this place where we’re not tied up in this mess.”

  She couldn’t see the turmoil inside him. The hot melted mess in his chest that wanted to drive out of there and find these scumbags that were causing all the pain he saw in her eyes, remained caged up inside.

  “Right at this second, we can’t do very much. Getting tangled up about it won’t help, so let’s try to make the most out the time. I’m going to make my call, you go make yours.” He handed her phone over and went to the back room to call Chris.

  “Hey. What’d you find out?” John walked to the back windows and stared out at the trees behind his property. He could see the pile of gray sweats she’d worn the day before. He would go get them later.

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “Didn’t think I would. Now what is it?”

  “So, Tommy Addante just got out of prison six months ago. Two months after that he got picked up for violating parole, solicitation charges that got dropped.”

  “Dropped? How?”

  “I’m still figuring that out. A lot of these files have been tampered with. Someone’s trying to hide something. But after it all dropped, it seems his crew came back in full force. They had laid low while he was away, doing petty shit, but with the big dog home, they’ve gone back to peddling sex and drugs. They use the prostitutes to both make money selling sex and selling dope.”

  “Are they cooking for themselves now?”

  “Not that I can tell. But, they could very easily be helping to protect their supplier.”

  “Okay, so what’s the part I’m going to hate?”

  “I’m pretty sure your precinct has something to do with it. I just can’t tell who. Yet.”

  “How are you getting all this information?”

  “I have my ways—and you won’t like those either so don’t make me tell you.” Chris didn’t work on the force for exactly those reasons. His ways didn’t always follow police procedure and being roped in with politics and all the red tape kept him from getting results he wanted.

  “Okay. Fine.” John wouldn’t ask questions he knew Chris couldn’t answer. The less John knew the better for all of them. “Can you get into Julie’s phone records and see where the last call she took came from? Her mom called.”

  “Sure, no problem. I’ll text it to you once I find it.”

  “Thanks. It looks like her mom got into some trouble with Tommy and is working off whatever she owed him.” Money or drugs, it wouldn’t matter to Tommy.

  “If he’s figured out Julie was the one at the cook house and can ID the guys that were there, she and her mom are in a hell of a lot more trouble than you may have bargained for.”

  John fisted his hand. “Yeah. Let me know about the call and see if you can find out where they may be holding her. I don’t think she’s walking around on her own, they have her on lockdown somewhere.”

  “How much of all this does your girlfriend know?”

  John looked over his shoulder. Julie paced back and forth in front of the hallway entrance, her phone glued to her ear and her hand waving through the air. His kitten definitely wasn’t one to be trifled with, and from the look of her narrowed eyes he almost felt sorry for whoever weathered her storm on the other side of the line.

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” he found himself saying; the words tasted sour.

  “Uh-huh. You fuck her yet?”

  “Dude!” John gripped the phone harder and moving out of sight of the living room.

  Chris laughed. “That’s a yes. So, you play with her first time you meet her at the club, which is a complete first for you. You take her out of state and hide her away in your play cabin, and you’ve already fucked her. Which also means you’ve probably already given her at least one punishment.”

  Chris’s ability to see through the muck of the situation triggered more irritation than humor. Not that Chris cared.

  “That’s none of your fucking business.”

  “Which again is a yes. John, you have never once punished a woman, played with a woman, and taken her to bed and it not been something more than just some playtime. You’ve played with women and left it at that, but the rest of this—yeah, this isn’t just you being a Good Samaritan.”

  “Shut the fuck up,”

  Chris laughed again. “Don’t get mad at me ‘cause you can’t see your nose right in front of your damn face. This girl’s important to you.”

  John heard a soft curse coming from the living room. Important? They’d passed important a long time ago.

  “You’re an asshole. Just do the digging and text me when something comes up.” John ended the call before Chris could lay any more blatant truth on him. Julie wasn’t just a girl he was helping, he could be honest with himself. She had become more, she was important.

  She was also stubborn and hadn’t had anyone to partner up with on anything more than a play level in who knew how long—if ever. This wasn’t the time for feelings, and it sure wasn’t the time for a long talk about relationship status.

  He’d take things as they came. Protect her. Help her find her mother and figure out this mess with the dealers and Tommy. The rest would have to come later.

  If she would be open to it at all.

  “Holy shit! John!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Julie pressed herself against the wall beside the window facing out the front of the cabin. “John!” she called again.

  “What, what’s wrong?” John jogged down the hall into the living room.

  She waved him away from the sight of the window.

  “A truck just pulled up. Not in front, down the drive, behind those bushes.” She jerked her thumb at the window. Asshats probably thought they were hidden behind the bare branches of the bush. Maybe they didn’t understand how easy it was to see a fucking orange Hummer through the light brown coloring of the hibernating limbs.

  John peered out the window through the semi-sheer drapes. “Fuck. I figured we’d have more time. They must have been in the area.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll explain later.” He pulled her by the arm toward the bedrooms. “Grab the bag in the bedroom and meet me in the playroom.”

  “Playroom? Why?”

  John gripped her arm tighter. “Just do it.” He gave her a shove toward the bedroom and disappeared. A black duffle bag sat on the dresser where John had already half packed them. Most of the new clothes were already inside, so she finished tossing in the socks he’d bought her and zipped the bag.

  When she ran into the playroom she found John holding out a gun for her. “Take this. You’re going to go out the back door and head for the tree line. In about three hundred feet there’s a narrow path that leads back to the main road.”

  “The car’s up front,” she said.

  “Yeah, I’m going for the car. I’ll meet you where the path pours out. If you see anyone other than me, you shoot. Understand?”

  She took the gun in her hand, checking the safety. “What if you don’t come? There�
�s like four of them, John. You can’t just walk out the front door.”

  “Don’t worry about that, you just get to where I told you.”

  “Why can’t I just come with you?” she insisted. What if something happened to him? She didn’t exactly know where they were, or how to get home, or how she would get there.

  “Because I can’t be worrying about you with bullets whizzing by, now go.” He gave her a hard shove at the back door.

  Bullets whizzing by?

  She threw the strap of the bag across her chest and darted out of the door when he opened it. Hustling through the yard to the tree line, she could only hear her own footsteps crunching the dried leaves on the ground and her heart jackhammering in her chest.

  Once at the tree line, she ducked behind a cluster of bushes that still had most of their leaves and looked on at the cabin. Two men walked along the side of the cabin, while another appeared at the back door. They weren’t trying to go through the front.

  John must have counted on that. Except where was the fourth guy?

  Gripping the gun tighter in her hand, she turned and ran until she found the path John told her about. Narrow had been a generous description. Bare branches scratched at her face as she hurried her way through the brush. Her breathing echoed around her as she pushed through to the main road.

  No car. No John. Nothing.

  Breathing hard, she looked behind her, around her, for any sign of being followed. Listening over her own panic, she tried to hear sounds of fighting.

  Nothing.

  Maybe she’d taken the wrong path.

  Maybe she should be further down the road.

  Gravel crunching beneath the weight of a car drew her attention to her left. She ducked back into the path and waited. Whoever was coming didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry. Then she saw him.

  John and his sedan rolled to a stop in front of her. John waved her in, and she checked behind her once more before running forward to the car. Once she was inside, John stepped on the gas, lurching them forward and driving down the hill to the paved road.

  “Did they see you?” she asked, looking out the back window.

  “No, but I’m sure they heard the car start. Get down.” He eyed the rearview mirror and pushed her shoulder until she lowered herself in her seat.

  “How’d you get out without them seeing you?” She maneuvered the duffle bag over her head and stuffed it to the floorboards at her feet.

  The car jerked as he turned onto the paved road and sped up.

  “They’re hired thugs, not highly trained military,” he said. As though that somehow explained everything.

  She decided against prodding him for any more information. For now.

  “I didn’t hear any shots,” she said, looking back out the rear window.

  “There weren’t any because they didn’t see or hear me. If you’d been with me, they could have heard us.”

  “Okay,” She gave him a side glance. “You’re sure you didn’t know them?” She rested the gun in her lap, the safety still on, but her finger close to it.

  “Know them?” He looked away from the road at her. His hands tightened on the wheel. “You think I know them? That those are my guys?”

  “I think I talked to my mom and not forty minutes later those guys show up and you said something about thinking you had more time.” Her finger rested on the safety.

  “Yeah. When the guy with your mom told her they got it, I assumed they were tracing the call. Tracking your location. I just figured they were still in the city, but I guess not.”

  “Right. Because these guys, these drug-dealing assholes, they have that sort of technology.” She picked up the gun and pointed it at him. “Who are you really?”

  Most men when having a gun pointed at them would at least tense. Maybe sweat a little.

  John laughed.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? You think I’m one of them? I’m, what, trying to keep you from your mother?”

  “Or keep me from making a police statement about the guys at the cook house.” She released the safety.

  “You heard me on the phone with my boss. You know damn well I’m not a part of this. Now put that fucking thing down.”

  “I don’t know.” She didn’t put her finger to the trigger. You only do that if you’re ready to shoot, and she wasn’t ready. Not yet.

  “You let me go from the cabin on my own. That’s not like you—all that protection you keep showering down on me.”

  He shook his head, not turning away from the road. “I told you to go out that way, so I could get the car out before they knew we were on the move. If you had been with me, it would have been harder, and if I’d been caught at least you would have gotten away. Now put that fucking gun down.”

  She watched him for a long moment. Driving the car, not so much as an extra blink or heavy breath as he drove them down the highway.

  “I’m positive the guy whoever has your mom is in bed with the police. It wouldn’t be the first time a cop was bought and paid for by guys like him, and he’s just started up his business again. That’s how they were able to trace the call.”

  A blaring horn from behind them caught her attention, and she swung the gun around to the back window. “They’re following us.”

  “Sit back down and buckle in.” He pulled on her shirt, but she was already in motion.

  She climbed into the back seat.

  “Julie. No. Whatever you’re thinking, do not fucking do it,” he yelled.

  She slammed the butt of the gun against the window. Nothing. Well, there was no other way. She leaned back, pressing her back against the front seats and pulled the trigger. Glass shattered, cutting her hands as it flew. The resounding echo of the shot rang in her ears.

  Brushing off the glass from the back seat, she leaned forward and aimed at the truck barreling toward them. They’d cut off another car, which had made them honk. She would have to be careful not to hit them.

  “Julie!” She heard her name, but it came from a distance. Her ears still rang, so only a few syllables came through. None of it made sense and she wasn’t interested in what John had to say anyway. These guys were coming for them, and although she really didn’t believe he had anything to do with them, she took it upon herself to get rid of them.

  Lining up her shot, she took easy breaths, focusing on her target. Moving made it harder, but she could do it. She just needed to keep the target in her sight.

  One.

  Two.

  “Julie! No!”

  Three.

  She pulled the trigger and quickly readjusted her aim and shot again. Both shots hit their mark, blowing out the front tires of the truck and making them swerve and skid off the road. The car behind them slowed, their brakes squealing as they came to a stop.

  The truck rolled to a stop in the grassy shoulder, and Julie kept her aim trained on them until the car behind drove up safely. The sedan got closer, and she could make out the elderly driver and his just as old female companion, their complexions pasty and their mouths agape as they drove closer to her and John. John slowed the car and drove on the shoulder, allowing them to pass.

  And pass they did, with more speed than she would have given the old man credit for attempting.

  “Get your ass back up here now,” John ordered. He hadn’t yelled it. Or maybe he had and her ears just hadn’t readjusted yet.

  She made sure she couldn’t see the truck, then threw on the safety and climbed back up to the front seat, brushing off more of the shattered windshield and taking a second to look over the small cuts on her hands. The burn on her arm looked less gruesome next to the new injuries. They were going to burn like a bitch when she cleaned them, but all in all not bad.

  Looking over at John, she noticed several shards of glass on his shoulders, coupled with three nicks to his neck. She brushed off the glass.

  “Sorry about that.” She touched the cuts.

  He jerked away and put his hand out. “Giv
e it to me.”

  “John—”

  “Give me the fucking gun.”

  With a heavy sigh she handed it to him and watched him tuck it in the side compartment of his door.

  “Another trick your boyfriend taught you?” he asked after several minutes of silence stretched out.

  “No.” She pulled the seatbelt across her chest and snapped it. It was getting cold in the car with the back window open. “I’ve never done something like that before.” She laughed. Hell, she’d surprised herself for even considering it, and now that it had actually worked she was pretty damn proud.

  John’s jaw clenched and his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

  “So much,” he whispered to himself.

  “So much what?”

  “Trouble. So much fucking trouble. You have no idea what you’re in for. But the moment I get us somewhere safe I’m going to show you. You’re reckless, and you’re impulsive. You don’t fucking think. You could have shot that old couple. You could have killed those guys. Do you think your trouble would have gone away with them dead? Do you really fucking think Tommy Addante would forgive that?”

  He didn’t yell, but the vein in his neck throbbed. It must hurt to keep so much anger tamped down.

  “John, they were coming at us. They would have shot at us.” She pressed the heel of her hand to her ear. The ringing lessened but still cluttered the sounds of her own voice.

  “I told you not to. I told you to wait.”

  “I didn’t hear you,” she answered.

  “So many options.” He shook his head. He wasn’t listening to her anymore. He focused on the road stretched out in front of them.

  “I can pay for the window.”

  He shook his head.

  “Where are we going now?”

  He said nothing.

  “John—”

  His hand clamped down on her mouth. “No words, kitten. No words until I say otherwise.”

  She nodded and he released her.

  He seemed to have the driving under control, so she decided to relax and enjoy the scenery. By the time they got to wherever he was taking them, he’d calm down. She’d apologize for the window again, offer to pay for it. He might spank her, she could agree to that—she did shoot out his car window, but whatever he seemed to be plotting in his mind right now would be forgotten.