His To Claim, Theirs To Keep

Chapter One

Katriona

I always regret my life choices the morning after.

Two eight-hour shifts, back to back, rip my soul from my body. Every. Damn. Time.

I press my hands against my eyes and rub.

Just a little longer.

A soft tune plays from somewhere under the covers twisted around me. It takes me a few seconds to dig through the sheets and grab my phone. I swipe at the screen without looking and fall back into the pillows.

I’m already thinking about when I can crawl back into bed, but for now, I pull myself up, tired and worn out from picking up a second double shift after barely sleeping three hours.

Chicago summers with no real air conditioning can feel like an oven. But I like the heat. It comforts me and reminds me of the bigger dream I’m chasing.

I pull back the thick curtains over my bedroom window to enjoy the one thing I allow myself to splurge on. Bright sunlight floods the room, and I tilt my face toward it, counting the months left before I can live in the light again for good.

Normally I’d be fast asleep right now, but thanks to my bad habit of saying yes too often and needing extra cash, I take five extra minutes to enjoy this sunlight like it’s gold.

Bad life choices. Maybe in another life I made better ones. But not in this one.

I push open my bedroom door and find Nikki, my roommate and the only real friend I have in this mess of a city, in the living room packing clothes into a big shoulder bag. As always, a mint Marlboro hangs from the corner of her bright red lips.

We’ve shared this small apartment for two years. Most nights we head to work together. I must’ve slept through more than one alarm, because she’s already on her way out while I’m still half-asleep.

“Hey, babe. Welcome back to the land of the living. Thought I’d have to bang some pots and pans to wake your dead ass.”

Ash from her smoke drops onto the one nice thing in our crappy two-bedroom place. Since I paid for the big couch, I usually complain about the burn marks. But today, I’m too tired to care. I raise a middle finger instead and give her a small smile.

“Gotta have my beauty sleep.”

She winks, making one of her huge fake lashes flutter like crazy. Calling her ‘extra’ would be putting it lightly. But I love her for all the ways she’s over the top.

She tosses a bright red strand of hair over her bare shoulder. “Love ya too, babe. Hey, I’m heading out. Can’t be late again. See ya there?”

She’s at the door, hand on the knob, looking back at me. “Oh—and happy birthday!”

“Thanks.” I force a smile. Today’s always my least favorite day.

We work at the same club, with the same long, crappy hours. But the nightly tips are worth it. One more year of saving, and I’ll finally have enough to leave this city and all the bad memories behind. Now that would be the best birthday gift ever.

This time, my smile is real as I wave her off. Hot air drifts in when Nikki opens the front door.

“When you get there, we’ll sneak away and have a birthday martini. Make wild wishes and shoot for the stars!”

“I’ll be right behind you,” I call back, just as a large shadow blocks the sunlight pouring in.

My smile drops fast when I see Nikki’s cigarette hanging off her lip, her head tipped so far back it looks like it might fall off.

My heart skips a beat. It takes a second, maybe two, before Nikki blinks. She squares her shoulders and squints hard.

“What the fuck, man? You ever heard of space and a damn doorbell?”

I grab the bathroom door handle and feel myself go on high alert.

My mom had terrible taste in men. I usually paid the price for it.

Even now, memories of the ones who tried to see if I came with the “mother package deal” still follow me into my dreams. No kid should have to fight off grown men. But I did.

“Nikki?” I whisper, my voice tight.

Old memories crack open inside me, making my chest pound.

My hands always shake when something feels off, but nothing ever seems to scare Nikki. She grew up in New York, came to Chicago with a Bronx girl attitude and the kind of guts I wish I had.

Then comes a low, sharp breath and a cold voice. “Ms. Kane.”

I watch as Nikki takes the smoke out of her mouth with one hand and starts to close the door with the other.

“Nah, man. Wrong address. Byeeee.”

I turn fully to face the door, feeling sick.

Bad move, Nikki. This guy didn’t come for a chat. His voice is smooth, but full of danger, and I bet he’s not used to hearing no.

My dad makes sure his tough guys don’t even know how to spell the word.

Up until now, I’ve always felt safe in our small apartment. But right now?

Right now, I feel trapped, and the only way out is the door someone very dangerous is standing in front of.

I step away from the bathroom door, ready to help deal with whoever is outside—sweaty hands and all—when I hear a loud slam of a hand hitting the thick wood.

Oh, crap! I hate being right.

I roll over the back of the couch and grab the mace I keep in the front pocket of my bag, just as a big pair of shoulders come crashing through the front door, ripping it right off the frame.

“No one shuts a door in my face. I said I need to talk to Ms. Kane. Mr. Kane says so.”

I stumble around the couch, pointing the mace at the broken door.

Kane. I know that name. It’s been stuck to me since the day I was born, like a bad smell I can’t wash off.

I drop my bag but keep my finger on the button, ready to spray. I don’t plan on talking to any Kane ever again. I’ve done that twice. I don’t need a third round of being thrown away like trash.

So, no. Whoever thinks they can break down my door and act all big and bold can turn their pushy butt around and leave.

Wearing nothing but tiny shorts and a top, I pull my robe off the hook and shove my arms through the sleeves.

Every part of me is stiff, my moves sharp and stiff like a robot. I feel his eyes on me, but I don’t face him until my robe is tied tight.

Anger boiling, I glare right at him. “What the hell does he want? Tossing his only daughter out twice wasn’t enough?” I throw up my hand. “You know what, I don’t care. How about you piss off? I’m not going with you. Not now, not ever. So don’t waste your time.”

I don’t know where this fire is coming from, but I stand tall.

Cold brown eyes scan over my messy hair, bare face, and come back to my eyes. I can tell Muscles thinks I’m beneath him from the way his lip curls. I can almost hear what he’s thinking. He doesn’t get why his strong, rich boss wants anything to do with me—a nobody server.

I don’t get it either.

Muscles steps right into my space, his strong smell making it hard to breathe. The air turns heavy and my chest tightens. Thick brows pull into a mean look and I know—he doesn’t just seem scary. He is.

I swallow down my fear. “You gonna pay for that?” I wave at the broken door and back away until I hit the couch. Not far, since our place is tiny.

Finger still set, target locked. I bite back the scream bubbling in my throat. One more move and this weird visit is done.

“You need to go. I don’t have it in me to deal with my dad.” The king of all jerks. A mob guy. The man who threw me away when being a dad got boring.

His huge hands land on my shoulder, and out of the corner of my eye I spot Nikki, ready to swing a kitchen chair like a bat.

I push off Muscles and throw up a hand to stop Nikki. Chair half-raised, she’s got fire in her eyes. I press the mace button but just get a sad little squirt instead of the full blast.

Crap!

I toss my free hand toward Nikki, cursing under my breath. “Damn it! Chill, I got this, babe. I’ll see you at work, okay?” I wave her off and hold her stare. I know this guy wouldn’t blink before punching a girl, and I don’t want Nikki getting hurt.

I get the “are you nuts” look in return. I ignore her silent scream to let her at him, and push her out the door. “I like my friends breathing. I’ll be fine.” I glance at Muscles and cross my arms. “Sort of.” I’ve never dealt with guys like this, but with my dad? Yeah, not my first rodeo. Still, I’m off my game.

Nikki walks off, slowly, but I can tell she’s gonna tear into me later.

Speaking of. I turn to Muscles. “Look, I need to get dressed for work. You need to go. You don’t want my job wondering why I’m late,” I lie. They’d fire me without blinking, but I’ll drop any name if it gets him gone.

Then again, working for my dad’s rival won’t earn me a gold star either.

“Your father wants to talk. Shut up and come with me.”

I let out a laugh that chokes halfway. “Tell your boss I don’t care. Sorry you came all this way.” If I were Lara Croft, I’d know some cool, fast way to kick him out. All I’ve got is three months of free yoga. I’m pretty sure a warrior pose won’t help me now.

His rough hand grabs my shoulder and I move before I even think. My legs shake but I swing my elbow toward his clean-shaved chin. Not his weak spot, but it’s all I can reach.

The jerk leans away and—laughs. Laughs!