Keeping Katie (Syndicate Kings Book 5)

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more relieved than I do right now. I was practically on the verge of a nervous breakdown on the drive to my parents’ house, especially after I got a collection call from the insurance company again.

“This house is lovely, dear. I don’t think you need to do anything to it. I’m pretty sure I have a buyer who would be interested. He owns dozens of houses and rents them to families who can’t afford the high rent prices in the area.”

My heart warms, and I can’t help but smile. “That’s awfully selfless of him. A lot of landlords around the city jack up their rent prices so they can make the most profit. How does he find the families?”

Marie, the real estate agent Grady arranged for me to meet, has been so kind since the moment we shook hands. I can see why he recommended her.

“He works with schools and veteran offices to find them. He’s been doing it, gosh,” she says, tapping her chin, “probably for the past fifteen years or more. He’s my favorite client.” She laughs, and I don’t blame her. If he’s purchased that many houses from her, he probably keeps her income nicely padded.

“Well, that sounds wonderful. Are you sure about the price, though? My previous agent had told me the house wasn’t worth anywhere near that amount.”

She scowls. I wonder how it’s possible for such a sweet woman to also have such a terrifying expression. “Yes, well, Calvin is quite the scum of the real estate industry. Several of us have been trying to get his license revoked for years, but for whatever reason, it hasn’t happened.”

That’s strange. I should probably contact the life insurance company that recommended him to me. Although, I’m not exactly impressed with their business practices either.

“Are you sure you want to sell this place, though? It’s a great house,” Marie says, looking around again.

I follow her gaze and let out a sigh. “It’s either sell this or Twisted Bean. Though I have good memories here, the coffee shop means more to me because it was my parents’ dream.”

The woman gets a misty-eyed look and steps forward to hug me. I’m surprised by it at first, but then I hug her back. This is definitely the sort of person to do business with. She actually cares. It’s touching.

“I’m so sorry you’re in this position. You seem to know what’s most important, though, so I understand your decision. Well, let me talk to my client and see what he thinks. He’s a cash buyer, so it would be a quick sale. You’d have a check within a week.”

My jaw nearly hits the floor. “A week? Oh my gosh. That would be amazing. The insurance company has been breathing down my neck for me to settle my parents’ hospital bills.”

The scowl she had earlier returns, and she shakes her head. “Well, give me a few days and you can tell them to shove that check where the sun don’t shine.”

I actually snort as I burst into giggles. I throw my arms around her again. “Thank you, Marie.”

She gives me a squeeze, then grabs her briefcase and heads for the front door, her sky-high killer heels clicking on the wood floor the entire way. I don’t know much about BDSM, but she gives off what I’d imagine would be Dominatrix vibes. It’s hot.

When I’m alone again, something settles inside me. I swear I can actually feel the weight that’s been holding me hostage lift and float away.

Slowly, I wander through the house, stopping in each room to give it one last look. Memories play through my mind like a movie. Christmas mornings, pancake Saturdays with my dad, birthdays, and snow days. By the time I make it back where I started, tears stream freely down my cheeks. I miss them, but they gave me a life some people could only hope to have. They gave me unconditional love. Even on the darkest of days, no matter how sick they were, they loved me. I’ll miss this place, but the thought of it being a home for someone in need makes it easier to walk out of the front door for hopefully the last time.

As I head to my car, I dig through my purse for the keys. I need a smaller purse. Or a car with one of those fob thingies, so I don’t always have to dig in the endless black hole I carry around with me.

“Thought I was going to have to come in to talk to you.”

My head snaps up so fast it gives me the spins. An icy shiver runs down my spine. “Calvin,” I say.

“Yep,” he says slowly, popping the P at the end.

Is he drunk? It’s not even noon yet.

I look at my car and wince. He parked directly behind me, blocking me in.

“Can I help you with something?” I ask.

He staggers forward, and I take a step back. Shoot. He is drunk. Not only is he not walking in a straight line, but he reeks like he slept in a bourbon barrel.

“Oh, you can help me, all right. You and me, we were going to be great, doll,” he slurs. “I was going to sell this piece of shit house, and then I was going to celebrate by fucking you in it.”

My stomach twists. I swallow several times, trying to urge the bile to go back down. I wouldn’t have fucked Calvin if he were the last guy on earth.

“But noooo,” he sneers. “You sent your boyfriend and his fucking gangster friends to see me. They walked in like they owned the goddamn world. And now…now all of my assets are frozen, and you don’t think I would put two and two together? You bitch.”

I take another step back and shake my head. “Calvin, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t send anyone to see you, and I have no idea what’s going on with your assets.”

He lurches toward me. Like a rabid animal trying to catch prey. I swear he’s even foaming at the mouth. Letting out a scream, I try to dodge him, but excruciating pain sears through my ankle as I twist it. Unable to hold my weight, I fall backward and land on my tailbone.

Owwie.

Shit. This is bad. I need my Daddy. He’d make it better. He’d protect me. Tears burn in my eyes, blurring the world around me. Calvin looms over me, his scent burning my nostrils.

He steps forward again. I scoot back, my butt getting soaked through my jeans from the wet grass. If I keep moving, we’re going to be on the porch soon, and that’s the last place I want to end up.

“I’m going to show you what it’s like to be with a real man. You’re going to love my dick, you fucking whore.”

Calvin sways. I have to get away from him. Far, far away so I can call Daddy. Pressing my palms to the ground, I push myself up and hiss when I put weight on my ankle. Can I run? I don’t think so.

As I look left and then right, trying to figure out which way is the better choice, my heart surges into my throat.

A black Escalade speeds toward us, the engine roaring with power. As soon as it comes to a stop, Grady leaps from the driver’s side with his gun in hand.

“You’re dead,” he growls as he reaches Calvin and points the barrel right at his temple.

Calvin stumbles back, his eyes bulging from their sockets. He quickly recovers, surprising with the state he’s in, and glares at Grady. “Fuck you, man.”

Grady shifts his gaze to me for half a second. “You okay, baby? He touch you?”

I’m trembling so hard it takes a second to find my voice. “He didn’t touch me.”

Another black SUV pulls up. Bash and Ronan storm toward us. Bash comes over to me and starts inspecting me for injuries. I slap at his hands, not wanting him to touch me. The only person I want right now is Grady. I need him to pick me up and hold me and tell me everything is okay.

“No,” I cry, shoving Bash away. “I want Daddy.”

There’s so much commotion, I don’t know what’s going on, but the next thing I know, Grady’s in front of me, swooping me up bridal style and jogging toward his SUV.

“I got you, baby girl. Shh. I’m right here. Please stop crying. You’re killing me, princess.” His voice is pained and sad, but I can’t stop the sobs breaking free from my lungs.

“He said he was going to…” I try to catch my breath, “to rape me.”

Grady’s hands tighten on me, almost to the point of pain, but I don’t care. I need him. I need to feel secure, and he’s giving me exactly that right now.

“Fuck. I should have come with you. You’re never doing anything alone again. Never. He’s dead, baby. I’m going to kill him.”

The panic in his voice makes me pull back to look up at him. Pain twists his face, but I don’t think it’s physical. He’s blaming himself.

“I’m okay. He didn’t do anything,” I say quickly.

“It doesn’t matter. He showed up here. He intended to hurt you,” he growls back. “He’s a dead man.”

A shiver works its way down my spine. I’ve never heard him sound so threatening. So scary. Yet, I’ve never felt safer or more relieved.