Taken by Her Prince

And that thought scared me. The idea of settling down like this, settling into this life left me feeling unbalanced. I took my phone from my pocket and checked the screen. I shot off a quick text to Tracy, just so she knew I was still okay, and leaned up against the counter. I sipped my coffee and took deep, calming breaths.

I was starting to feel comfortable. I knew I shouldn’t, knew I should want to get away, but the more time I spent with Steven the more I wanted to keep seeing this thing through. I wanted to be around him, wanted to touch him and taste him, and I could feel myself slowly shifting away from the girl I used to be, turning into something entirely new.

I shook my head and ran my fingers along the granite counter. I sipped my coffee again then jumped as my phone started to ring. It vibrated loud, growling like an animal. I shook my head to calm myself and picked it up, figuring it would be Tracy following up on my texts.

Instead, it was my father’s number.

I answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Hello, niece.”

My uncle’s voice sent a shiver down my spine. My fingers curled into the counter top so hard the knuckles turned white.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Same thing I wanted last time.” He sounded like he was on the verge of laughing. “I want information, Colleen. I want something to use against your little boyfriend. He is still alive, isn’t it?”

“He’s fine,” I said.

“Didn’t seem fine. My boy Mikey told me he showed up to O’Hare’s last night. Mikey shot his friend, didn’t he?”

I clenched my jaw and didn’t speak.

“That’s okay,” Uncle Mathis said. “Oh, don’t you worry about that. I don’t mind that you didn’t give me a heads up about your boyfriend’s plans. I know this is difficult for you, deciding to betray him and everything. But I’ll tell you, my niece, if you do decide to side with your family, things will go very easy from here on out.”

“I’m not betraying anyone,” I said. I pushed myself away from the counter top and paced down the length of the house, toward the front door. “I know what game you’re playing, Uncle Mathis. And I’m not a part of it. My father’s not a part of it. Just let him go and fight your own war.”

“But Colleen, you are a part of it,” he said. “You’re staying at that man’s house. Mikey saw you last night in the car, he had a shot on you, lined right up to your pretty little face but he didn’t take it. He decided to spare you, because I told my men not to hurt you.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I said.

“Would you have preferred if he shot you?”

“No,” I said.

“Colleen, I take care of my family.”

I turned my back on the door, completing one full house length, and turned to head back to the kitchen.

“You don’t,” I said. “You kidnap them. You hurt them. I’m not your pawn.”

“But you’re that Italian fuck’s pawn?” he asked.

“I’m nobody’s tool.” I clenched my jaw and stood next to the table, my ears ringing. “And he’s not using me. I don’t have to help him and I can leave whenever I want. I’m choosing to be here, Uncle Mathis.”

“Then choose to betray him,” he said. “Choose to turn your back on that man and help your family. We’re family, remember, Colleen?”

I stared, my eyes wild, at the kitchen. I pictured smashing a shovel through my uncle’s face over and over again, and that actually seemed to calm me down a little bit.

“This isn’t happening,” I said, keeping my voice calm, steady, and low. “I’m not helping you, not now, not ever. If you’re more than the monster you seem to be, you’ll release my father and move on. Otherwise, go to hell.”

I hung up the phone and stared at the far wall, my heart racing in my chest. I hated my uncle so much, hated him for what he was doing to me. He wanted me to choose, wanted me to turn my back on this new thing I had found, this new thing that was starting to make me happy. I was afraid all the time, but god, when Steven touched my skin, I was happy.

I know that made me a freak. I know I was probably broken inside.

But I just didn’t care.

“Who was that?”

I jumped and a scream escaped my throat. I turned around, shaking with adrenaline, and Steven stood just inside the door. He held a brown paper bag in one hand and a coffee in the other.

“Steven,” I said. “When did you—”

“Who was that?” he asked again. His face was neutral, and that set my heart racing again.

“My uncle,” I said.