Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Kat

I wake up in a different room from my own. It's a room I am familiar with and yet…it's different. The feel of the sheets, the scent that makes me want to bury my face in the pillows and take big gulping breaths of it, the fact there is a baseball bat with a signature on it sitting by the dresser I have never seen before.

I sit up and go back over the last thing I remember last night. I was a little toasted since I never drink and at the wedding, I had two glasses of champagne and another glass of wine with dinner. Not that I ate very much because I couldn't breathe in the contraption I had to wiggle myself into to fit into that god-awful tulle nightmare. And today…both of those things are gone. Not only those but also my stockings and the garter belt that held them on. I am fucking naked except for a micro-thong…and a jersey.

What the fuck did I do?

I know this room well enough that I realize I am in my own apartment, but this is not my room in that apartment. I hold my head and try to think about yesterday but the damned song by the same name starts playing in my head. I would lie and say I still have booze-brain, but this is just how my mind works.

Before I can go back over what might have happened, a loud yell echoes through the tiny apartment. Oh shit! Did my new roommate just find out I apparently used his room last night and stole his clothes? Or did I do something worse that a grown man would be yelling about?

I jump up and run for the door but when I open it, it's to find my new roommate is already in the hallway struggling with someone.

"Wh…what's going on? What the hell is happening?"

It feels like a question I should be asking myself on repeat today. And maybe one that Whit should be asking, not me.

"This guy came into your room this morning. Luckily for him, we switched rooms last night."

Oh no! Oh God! Oh no!

I watch as my nearly six-foot-six roommate holds…my Super by the back of the collar like he was twelve. Only the man isn't twelve. He's old enough to be my father…or my grandfather. My stomach turns and pitches and I have to physically cover it with my hand to remind myself not to do something to make things much worse…like puke right in the middle of the two of them.

Whit isn't done though. He gives the guy a little shake and continues, "Because if it were you in the bed this morning…I would have killed him."

The old geezer pulls himself away from Whit and narrows his eyes at him. I guess he's trying to be intimidating if his next words are any indication. "You watch who you are talking to, boy. I'm the superintendent here. I'll have your ass thrown out before you can blink."

Instead of being intimidated, Whit narrows his eyes at him - and comes off much more threatening than the Super ever did, "Before I can press charges and have you thrown in jail? Or before I make sure a lengthy investigation is started into how many other people you've walked in on?"

The Super goes pale and, for the first time since I met the sleaze bag, not so creepy.

"You watch who you threaten, old man. Some of us aren't small girls away from home for the first time."

The man struggles to get away from him, but Whit isn't letting him go. Instead, he half drags, half carries him to the door. My numb brain starts to come awake and I follow the two of them into the living room.

"Whit, what…what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to throw this bastard out and he better not come back until he learns to knock, or I'll have investigators swarming this place before he can take his next breath."

He finally lets the old man go and allows his own momentum to carry him over the threshold before shutting the door in his face.

"I really wish you hadn't done that."

"Really? You wished I hadn't done that? Because if I'm not mistaken you have a brother that would have done way worse and I'm pretty sure he'll agree with my side of things, sweetheart."

All the blood rushes from my head and I have to grab onto the back of the couch to keep from melting to the floor.

"Hey, you okay?"

Hands hold me up until some of the things in my body can right themselves. "Please don't tell Bear? I…He'll make me come to stay with him and Bea and it would just make me feel like a third wheel…or worse."

His eyes narrow and instead of letting me go he helps me over to a stool we keep pushed under the micro-island that separates the living room from the kitchen. If you want to call it a separation.

"Don't lie." I sit up straighter at the suggestion I would ever, "How long has this guy been bothering you?"

Well, shit.

I wouldn't have lied necessarily, but I certainly wouldn't have told him the whole truth either. I pop my bottom lip in between my teeth and start to wiggle around on the stool.

"From the very moment you moved in?" He gives me a sexy know-it-all look that could kind of grow on me…if we weren't roommates. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes." I give in. I miss having someone to confide in, someone who can understand what my every day looks like. "But I want to handle this myself. I don't want my father or my brother to come and fix this."

"Alright, alright. I'll keep your secret…" I start to give him my first smile of the morning when he opens his mouth again, "unless…"

I don't like the unless part and I doubt I'm going to like what is coming even less.