by Kelli Walker
“So you killed your own family to get out? You thought spilling innocent blood would somehow push you into a better life?”
“None of us were innocent and you know it. I have no family. I haven’t since the day my house went up in flames.”
“We took you in when no one else would! A whining, pathetic little boy sniffling for his mother and we took you in like you were one of us. Fed you. Clothed you. Trained you and made you the man you are today.”
“I made me the man I am today. You have no stake in that claim,” I said with a growl.
“Will Joanna see it that way? When she finds out the kind of man you are? When she finds out she’s having a murderer’s child?”
“What the hell do you want?” I asked.
“I want justice,” he said.
“For me leaving?”
“For the people you killed in the wake of your leave.”
“It was their choice to shoot at me. I was only defending myself.”
“You don’t shoot at family!”
“You were never my family!” I said. “You and the rest of those guys were a bunch of gang bangers who preyed on the fragile mind of a teenage boy who wanted his mother.”
“I’ve got friends in high places. Just like you,” he said. “I’m willing to make you a deal to save your own skin if that’s what you really want.”
“My skin doesn’t need saving. It’s yours once I figure out where you are you miserable piece of shit.”
“The two of you looked very happy coming out of that doctor’s office this morning.”
My eyes were darting around, trying to figure out where the fuck that man was standing. But he could’ve been anywhere. On the roof of a building. Down a dark alleyway with binoculars. In any other of the hotels that looked down onto the corner I was standing. Through the scope of a sniper rifle.
It had been over a decade since I’d seen Slate. He could’ve developed any set of skills.
“What deal?” I asked. “What deal would you be willing to make to ‘save my skin’ as you so delicately put it?”
“Horizon Technologies is trying to get a technological security department off the ground. I’m interested in a bit of protection for my business. At a reasonable price, of course.”
“If you’re so well connected, why do you need my protection? Seems like I’m still on top in this little bargain of yours.”
“Because blood is thicker than water,” he said. “You had a life before you became rich and famous, Boulder. I think the media would enjoy knowing about that life. There are debts from your past life you need to pay up on. People you cheated and robbed and promises you made that were broken. You can pay with the company you’ve created, or you can pay an equal penance for the lives you took.”
“You’ll never get what you really want out of all of this,” I said. “He’s dead.”
“And I wonder whose fault that is?”
“My lawyers will chase you down. They’ll leave no stone unturned. I’ll hire a security team to protect myself and surround my business with the nastiest people in the business. I’ll involve the federal authorities if I have to. You claim to be my family, yet you stood by and forced me to do unspeakable things as a teenager. Things I still see when I close my eyes at night.”
“A price to pay for the family you took on,” he said.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, Boulder. Besides, I know you won’t involve the authorities. You’re much too prideful for that. It’s always been your downfall, you know. Your pride.”
“I’ve got no issues involving them if it keeps Joanna safe,” I said.
“From destroyer to protector. Do you think keeping her and that unborn child of yours safe somehow erases the red from your ledger? That thing is five miles long and dripping with red ink. It’ll take a little more than protecting some opera singer from harm to reconcile what you’ve done.”
“I’ll find you,” I said. “And when I do, your blood will spill, too.”
“Is that before or after you involve the police?” he asked.
“You said it yourself. I’m too prideful anyway.”
That and I wanted to choke the life out of this fucker with my bare hands.
“Can’t even set it aside to protect your unborn child?” Slate asked.
“If you lay a hand on Joanna, I’ll take every single one of you out. If you thought I had to spill blood to get away, you wait and see the hell that reigns down on you if she’s harmed in any way,” I said.
Slate’s laughter poured through the phone as I balled my fist up at my side. He thought I was joking. He thought I wouldn’t come after him. That I wouldn’t drain my accounts to make sure I could wipe them off the face of the fucking earth. He was nothing but a pathetic gang member when I dug myself out of that world. What the fuck was he suddenly capable of now?
His laughter filled my ear, causing my stomach to flip over on itself. I turned back towards the hotel, eyeing where Joanna had walked in. I started for the door as the call went silent. Slate’s voice could no longer be heard as my legs carried me as fast as they could into the hotel. I didn’t care how Joanna felt about me right now and I didn’t care that she thought I was trying to control her. She was in danger and I was determined to protect her. I couldn't leave her. I couldn't go back to New York when I knew Slate was in Chicago. Watching Joanna like a hungry lion in the bushes.
I couldn’t leave her exposed like this.
Not when it was because of me.
She didn’t ask for this. She didn’t ask for my shadows. And she wasn’t going to pay any price for it.
I would die to keep her safe if that was what it took.
Joanne
I fell into the sheets of my bed and sighed. What the hell was that man thinking? I wasn’t going to run off with him and abandon my company. I wasn't going to fly back to New York and be his kept little thing. I was timid, sure. Quiet, yeah. But I wasn’t a pushover. I wasn't someone who could be controlled. I’d lived with that type of control my entire childhood. I had allowed my adoptive parents to railroad me like that for years. It took me my entire undergrad to get my feet planted underneath me, and I couldn't have done it without Lacey. Even if they weren’t going to offer me the job, I needed to be there to support her.
Because if they didn’t give it to me, they were going to give it to her.
A knock came at my hotel room door and I sighed. I wanted it to be Lacey, but I knew in the pit of my gut who it was. I slid from the bed as another knock rang out, my head swimming with all of the ways I could get him to go away. I could tell him I didn’t want to do this. I could tell him I was giving the child up for adoption. I could tell him I was doing whatever I wanted whether he approved or not and he could either get on board or go suck on a tree.
I opened the hotel room door and looked up into Robert’s eyes, waiting for him to start whatever conversation he apparently wasn’t finished with.
“Joanna.”
“Robert.”
“Will you have dinner with me?” he asked.
I scoffed and shook my head as I closed the door.
Or at least, I tried.
He stuck his damn foot in the way to prevent it from closing.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?” I asked. “I thought you had some dire emergency in New York to tend to.”
“Some things are more important than that,” he said.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like getting to know the mother of my child.”
“You really do flip on a dime, don’t you?’
“If you won’t come with me, then I’ll deal with the situation the best way I can from here. That’s one of the perks that comes with owning your own company.”
“A perk for you? Because it isn’t a perk for me,” I said.
“Please have dinner with me.”
“Please? That the first time you’ve ever said that word?”
I watched him draw in a deep breath as he closed his eyes.
“I don’t feel like going out,” I said.
“That’s fine. I’ll cook for you, then.”
“What? In your luxuriously expensive hotel suite somewhere?”
“No. In my luxuriously expensive rented penthouse apartment,” he said.
“You cook,” I said.
“I do.”
“I don’t mean microwaveable meals. You actually cook real food.”
“Really real food,” he said with a grin.
“At your penthouse apartment in Chicago,” I said.
“It’s got a great view.”
I sighed as I closed my eyes. A home-cooked meal with a handsome man sounded better than a hotel room with pizza ordered in. Plus, it was better than sitting around and waiting for that tour meeting. It wasn’t happening until the morning and I knew Lacey would be out for the night. Partying it up with the company in ways I couldn’t since I was pregnant.
Which meant it would be an evening alone if I didn't accept his offer.
“Okay,” I said. “Just let me change.”
I moved his foot with my toe and closed my hotel room door. I quickly changed clothes and took a look at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t sure why I cared what I looked like. It wasn’t like this was a date or anything. I was still upset with him. Still uneasy about him. But there was something in the way he had asked.
The way he had said ‘please’.
I pulled on my jeans and pulled a sweater over my head. I slipped into my flats and decided to keep my hair down. I grabbed my cardigan in case it got chilly and reached for my purse, then I opened the door. I took stock of the man standing in the hallway, my eyes slowly gazing up and down his body. His hands were in the pockets of his expensive suit and not a hair on his head was out of place. His eyes were staring down the hallway, like he was keeping on the lookout for something.
His shoulders were rolled back and his stance was strong.
For a moment, I couldn’t do anything but stare at him.
“Ready?”
His rumbling voice ripped me from my trance as a blush crossed my cheeks.
“Whenever you are,” I said.
“I’ve never seen a woman make a pair of jeans look beautiful,” Robert said.
“Thanks. I think.”
“Is there anything in particular you want for dinner?” he asked.
“Something light. In case I get sick. It’ll be easier to bring back up.”
“Should we grab your medication just in case?” he asked.
“I’ve got it in my purse,” I said.
We headed down to his car and drove away from the city. I leaned heavily into the soft leather seats, taking in their warmth. I closed my eyes and was whisked away by the rhythmic turns of the car. I was tired. Exhausted. Spent, even though I had done nothing over the past few days.
I felt something wrap around my hand and I looked down. I saw Robert’s fingers curled around my skin. I looked up at him and a shadow of a grin played upon his cheeks. Bringing a light to his eyes that seemed almost natural.
Which was odd for the stern expression he kept all the time.
“We’re here,” he said.
“Sorry I fell asleep,” I said.
“No need to be sorry. I can’t imagine how tired you must be.”
He helped me from the car and led me up to his apartment. And he had been right. The view of the Chicago skyline was breathtaking. The black marbled floors played against the pearl white furniture. There wasn’t much in terms of decoration, but the view did most of that. The floor-to-ceiling windows called to me and I began to walk towards them. Night time was blanketing the sky, casting stars into the horizon as the twinkling lights of Chicago lit up the darkness.
It was beautiful.
A stark contrast to the blacks, whites, and grays of the apartment.
“Would you like some juice?”
I turned my head and found Robert standing in the middle of the room.
“What?” I asked.
“Some juice. I could press you up some juice.”
“You could press me juice,” I said.
He grinned as he turned on his heels, his strong body starting for the hallway. My curiosity got the best of me and I followed him into the darkness. There was minimal lighting, which was probably a result of all the sunlight that poured in during the day. I followed his darkened outline as we dumped into the kitchen, and the stainless steel appliances looked as if they were never touched.
“Orange, apple, or grapefruit?” Robert asked.
“Apple sounds good,” I said.
I watched him push the apples through a juicer as a cup filled up for me. He slid his jacket from his shoulders and hung it up in the corner, trading it for an apron he slid over his head. He handed me the fresh glass of juice and I giggled, unable to contain my surprise. This man, with his languid form and his tall stature and his impeccable suits was wearing an apron and handing me pressed juice.
“Thank you,” I said with a grin.
“I’m glad to see you finally smiling,” he said.
“So what’s for dinner?” I asked.
“You said something light, so I figured either a shrimp cocktail or a shrimp salad.”
“Mmm… a salad sounds nice.”
“An avocado-lime dressing sound good?”
“You can make an avocado-lime dressing,” I said.
“I’m going to get that reaction all night, aren’t I?” he asked.
“I’m not sure about all night, but as long as you’re cooking? Yes.”
I moaned at how wonderful the juice tasted. I closed my eyes and leaned against the kitchen island, soaking in the moment. Robert was cleaning and chopping vegetables while shrimp sauteed in a pan. I watched him throw together a wonderful salad, complete with a homemade dressing in under thirty minutes. It was a side of him I would’ve never thought existed. A slightly domesticated side that no one would see given the stern businessman demeanor.
“Dinner is served,” Robert said.
“Where are the plates? I can set the table,” I said.
“All you need to do is sit. More juice?”
“Water’s fine, thank you.”
“Would you like some lemon in it?” he asked.
“Anything citrus isn’t sitting well with me right now. Found that out the hard way.”
“How is your stomach feeling right now?”
“It’s okay. But I don’t want to push it.”
“Then plain filtered water it is,” he said.
“Where did you learn to cook?”
“I taught myself over the years. I had a hired chef that I watched, and it ended up putting him out of a job.”
“A hired chef. Is there something you don’t have?” I asked.
His eyes whipped up to mine as a grin crossed his cheeks.
“Plenty,” Robert said. “There’s plenty I don’t have.”
“So what made you want to build your own company?” I asked.
“My father.”
“Is your father a businessman?”
“Was, yes,” he said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t-”
“It’s fine. My family died a long time ago.”
“Your… family?” I asked.
He sighed as he sat back in his chair, his hand grabbing for his glass of water.
“It’s none of my business,” I said.
“I said we would get to know one another, and this is a part of me,” he said.
He took a sip of his water and I waited for him to start on his own time.
“My family was killed in a fire,” he said.
“Robert, I’m so sorry.”
“I was with a friend that night. Just up the street. Me and him heard the sirens and went dashing out to see what was going on. Two curious boys who wanted to see fire trucks and police cars. When I saw the blaze I counted down the houses and went running. It all hap
pened so fast.”
I reached out for his hand and took it, wrapping my fingers tightly around his skin.
“After that, I was sent to an orphanage. But no one wants an angry thirteen-year old boy. I graduated out of the system at eighteen, and I dug myself out of a dark hole so I could go to college and make something of myself. Live my life in honor of my family instead of in anger over their death.”
“Did you want to be adopted?” I asked.
“More than anything. Looking back on it all I probably would’ve resented adoption, but the orphanage was terrible. I got roped up in a bad crowd and the caretakers of the orphanage didn’t care. As long as we were in our beds by midnight and weren’t flunking out of school, we didn’t matter. I learned to live without family.”
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” I said.
“Family?”
“No, adoption.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I was adopted. But a couple who should’ve never been allowed to have kids.”
I felt Robert turn his hand over and take mine within his, but I slid it from his grasp before he could get a grip.
“Joanna.”
“I don’t know what happened to my birth parents,” I said. “I was one of those firehouse doorstep babies. I’ve never tried to track them down and I never will. I think I’d be too angry with them for giving me away.”
“What happened?” Robert asked.
“Nothing bad. Just a lot of little things. Very strict rules. Locks on the pantry. I can remember going through growth spurts and stealing food to hide under my bed in case I got hungry after six. My adoptive parents were control freaks. There wasn't anything I ate or wore or did that they didn’t approve first. It’s why I got so angry with you when you demanded I come with you to New York.”
I looked up and found Robert’s eyes, and the kindness behind them struck me hard.
“My favorite game as a child was swinging on the playgrounds in our neighborhood and fantasizing about all the ways they could die. Car accidents. Sickness. Heart attacks. Fires…”
I grimaced as a tear streaked down my cheek.
“I would’ve given anything to go back to that orphanage,” I said. “It’s because of them that I developed this life philosophy on family.”
