Mr. CEO(82)

“Shame, it was a nice kit,” Kat muses, then sighs. “But you asked what I went through. Well, at first I was pretty f*cked up, it's the only way to describe it. The first foster home... to be honest, I don't remember much of it. I was going through a lot of shit back then, but I do remember them trying to hit me. I hit back and ended up right back in the orphanage with a broken arm. The second home, well, they were nice, but way too old, and they didn't know how to deal with my anger. You see by then I'd started to hear the rumors, a lot of the older kids at the orphanage were running in gangs pretty much, and word on the street was my parents were killed by a car bomb, and it was your father who ordered it. I wasn't sure though for a few years after that, but I had a name. Still, I was too angry, and took advantage of them. I lasted a month with them before they sent me back after I slapped the woman. Then they sent me to Virginia... she was my first real teacher.”

“And what did she teach you?”

“Quite a few things. Krav Maga at first, then later on, she hooked me up with people who could supplement my education. I spent more time on my real education than I did on my high school education, not that it mattered. When I was sixteen I took my GED and said farewell to public education. Actually scored a ninety-nine percentage overall. I spent the next five years doing my real training.”

“Ten years... well, I guess nine if you account for the time before you met this Virginia... all to do what?” I ask, caught up in her face. My body remembers the feeling of her in my arms, the way she caressed my body, the feeling that shot through me. “And what did you do to me in the limo?”

Kat chuckles and gives me a sexy look, her eyes... I'm being seduced, and I can't resist it, even though I'm pissed. “Liked that, did ya? Little trick I picked up from one of the best escorts in the city. She says she picked up the Touch from living in China as a little girl, but I don't care if she got it in Detroit. The woman makes half a million a year, most of her clients never even get her dress off, and she's more in demand than ever even though she's over forty.”

“And what you hit me with under the pec? That shit bruised like a motherf*cker for about three days,” I ask, rubbing at the spot unconsciously.

“I bet it did. Probably connected to the other ones too, but I got that from aikijujutsu. I have some more... ones I'm planning on using on your father if he gives me a chance.”

At the mention of Pops, I'm finally able to tear my eyes away from Kat again and regain some semblance of my anger. “Taking him down... I get that. You're right. From what I can figure out, he ordered the car bomb that killed your parents. Why, I still don't know. Doesn't really matter, but Kat... we were friends. You were my best friend even, for f*ck's sake!”

“I was,” Kat admits. “But the person I was best friends with was a sweet, maybe slightly spoiled, but overall good kid. Not a douchebag with a set of steroid muscles and a black mirror full of K-X, handing out party favors in the back of a limo.”

I'm on my feet in an instant, staring at Kat and pointing at her. “You're not the only one who's been trying to cope! And for your information, this body has never seen a steroid. Lots of hours in the gym, probably just as many as you put in from what you're looking like, but I've never put a single pill in my mouth or needle in my butt.”

“And the K-X?”

I shake my head, knowing we're not going to get any further right now. “We all have ways of coping, Katrina. You know, next time you decide to do something against me, or Andrea or the rest of my family... think about that. We've all had to cope in some way or another. And not all of us are deserving of being destroyed.”

I walk to the front door and pull the handle on the lock. Turning around, I see Kat still sitting on the floor, looking sexy and untouchable at the same time. “I hope that you can understand why I'm doing what I'm doing.”

I open the door, temporarily blinded by the bright sunlight outside. “I do,” I say. “But I'd still prefer if you didn't get yourself killed because of it. Or me either. Watch yourself, Katrina.”

The afternoon sunlight is hot and bright, and I'm finally able to adjust my cock in my pants as I head down the stairs on the side of the old warehouse. I get into my car, the first time I've been allowed in it since the incident, and once inside, I throw my head back, sighing. She's dedicated, she's deadly, she's a fanatic that's on a level that makes those jihadist *s look like a bunch of pushovers... but she's also beautiful and sexy, and part of me wants to go up there and tell her right now that whatever she needs, she has my help.

But I can't. Not yet. I'm too pissed off, and I don't want to fight with her. Instead, I turn the key on my engine. I'm about to drive back to the plantation, and try and do some serious thinking, when the door to Kat's loft bangs open, and she comes running down the stairs.

What is it now?





Chapter 9





Kat





I really don't know why I'm running down the stairs. The question that I have in mind isn't all that important. Besides, I can't trust Jackson to answer me truthfully anyway, if he even knows the answer. Still, for some reason I'm pounding down the stairway, my Glock tucked into the back of my pants.