Celia

I climbed the stairs to my room and was surprised to see the door open. Concerned, I crept towards the door and peeked inside, worried that someone had broken in. On my sofa, I saw Spencer, sitting there with his arms crossed.

"Where the hell have you been?"

I frowned and pushed my way into the room, putting my bag down on the table. "What are you doing here? Who let you in?"

He jerked his head to the side. "Your next-door neighbor."

"Why did she let you in? She knows not to let anyone in when I'm out."

Spencer stood and came over to where I was. "I told her who I was and that I wanted to go inside and wait for you. Where the hell were you?"

"You could have texted me."

I went to mini fridge and took out a bottle of water, my heart pounding, fearing that Spencer was here to fight.

"Who were you with?" he said, his voice gruff.

"It's none of your business who I was with. A friend."

"Don't tell me it was that Saint thug."

I turned to face him. "Can you leave now? I'm fine. I need to go to bed and get some sleep. I have class tomorrow."

He stepped closer. "You've been drinking. I can smell it on you." He pulled me even closer and I struggled with him to get away. "You smell like sex."

His hand gripped my arm, squeezing so hard it hurt.

"Get out," I said, my voice low.

He slapped me. I expected it, and didn’t care. When I recovered, my hand over my cheek, I tasted blood. It wasn't the first time he'd drawn blood, and unless I could escape him, it wouldn’t be the last.

Mara, the girl who lived in the next room, peeked her head inside. She saw me standing with my hand over my cheek, tears in my eyes from the pain.

"Are you okay?" She saw my face. "Can I call security?"

"My stepfather was just leaving," I said, standing my ground. "Please leave," I said to Spencer, my voice firm.

"I'll leave when I decide."

"Leave now," I said, "Or Mara will call security."

"We're not done here," Spencer replied.

I turned to Mara. "Call security."

He pointed at me, his face so red that I thought he might explode. "You don't speak to me that way and you don't tell me to leave. I control your trust fund and I can stop paying for your room and board. Tomorrow."

"Go ahead," I said, my hands on my hips. "I'll get a job and live somewhere else."

He stepped closer, furious that I would stand up to him like that. "You'll regret this."

"So will you," I replied. "You better leave."

"I'm calling security," Mara said and held out her cell, showing that she'd dialed a number.

"You're a filthy slut," Spencer hissed and pushed by me, almost knocking me down. Mara stepped aside and watched as Spencer stormed down the hallway to the stairs.

"Are you okay?" she asked, coming over to where I stood. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No," I said and rubbed my cheek. "He's done worse. I'm just glad he's gone."

"That's assault," she said, her brow furrowed. "He hit you. You could charge him with assault."

I shook my head. "He's the Assistant District Attorney, on his way to becoming DA. He's best friends with everyone who matters in the city. No one would believe me."

"Will he really stop paying for the dorm?" she asked, her arm on my shoulder.

"Yes," I said and shrugged.

"Where will you go?"

"I'll get a job. I'll find a room somewhere. I don't need to be here."

"That sucks," Mara said, and made a face of sympathy. "Maybe he was just mad and won't really cut you off. What happened?"

I went to the bathroom down the hall and Mara followed me. I splashed water on my face while she watched. "I was with my boyfriend. Spencer hates him. That's all."

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend." Her eyes widened. "Do tell, please."

"We just started seeing each other. He's going to Parris Island next week to become a Marine." I smiled, giddily imagining that Hunter was my boyfriend for real. Except, of course, he wasn't. I knew he wasn't the boyfriend type. He preferred to remain single, although he always had women around him, willing to keep him company.

Besides, I was just a kid compared to him. He'd finished his MBA and was going to become a Marine. He was a man. I didn't feel at all like a woman, even though I'd just been deflowered. Spencer tried to keep me a child because of his zealot commitment to protecting my virginity. He had to make sure I didn’t damage his good name in the evangelical community, where he held a position as leader of a Bible study group and "pillar of the community."

That was twice Spencer had hit me in the space of a few days. I knew I should go to my mother and tell her, but she was so fragile. Spencer was never violent with her—just Graham and me, telling us he couldn't spare the rod or he'd condemn us to hell. He had often told me that he hit me because he loved me, but I wasn't buying it. Spencer had stopped hitting Graham when Graham got big enough to fight back.

Spencer hadn't hit me for a while—not since Graham was strong enough to defend me, but Graham didn't always step in. Like Saturday night. Even Graham was mad at me for kissing Hunter. I was surprised that he hadn't stood up for me, but Spencer was holding the purse strings on Graham's start-up funding, so he might have been reluctant to make Spencer mad.

Spencer was a monster who dominated both our lives. How I hated him.

Mara finally left me alone, once she was sure I was okay. I had a quick shower and got into my bed, taking out my cell and checking to see if Hunter had texted me.

Sure enough, he had.

I didn't want to tell him that Spencer knew we had been together. If I did, I knew Hunter would be honorable and never see me again. Instead, I lay back in bed, smiling, thinking of seeing Hunter again, and how we'd get some practice in. With that thought in mind, I turned off the bedside light and rolled up in my blankets.

I'd go looking for a job tomorrow so I could be free of Spencer, no matter what happened. I could handle a second job if that was all I could get. Tips were good so I hoped I could afford to find a house to share or a bed-sitting room somewhere in Cambridge if Spencer followed through with his threat. I'd hate to leave Kirkland House because it was a plum placement. I would hate to lose my place there.

But the most important thing was that I had a tuition scholarship which paid for my classes and books. I'd have to scramble to find a place to live if Spencer did cut me off. Once I was twenty-one, the trust fund would be under my control, and I couldn’t wait for that. I'd be completely free of Spencer at that point.

I could ask for more shifts at the restaurant, but I could never get enough shifts to afford room and board or rent and expenses.

I fell asleep to that calculus—hoping I could afford to move out if Spencer followed through on his threat.

* * *

The next day, I woke up sore from the night before. It was a pleasant soreness, at least to me, because it meant I was no longer a virgin. I had a bath and then went to my classes, almost forgetting about Spencer and his economic tyranny. But it was brought back to me all too soon, when Spencer showed up at my dormitory after classes, while I was sitting at my desk reading over the next day's material.

The knock at the door interrupted my focus on an astronomy text calculating the distance to the moon. I went to the door and opened it, and Spencer barged inside, wearing his business suit, his briefcase in hand.

"What are you doing?" I said, angry that he felt that he could just come over without calling first.

"I'm here to save you from yourself," he said and stood by my desk.

"What do you mean?"

"I want to show you something," he said and reached into his massive briefcase. "Maybe it will help you see the light about your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," I said, angry that Spencer was back.

"Look at this," he said and handed me a file. "Read it over. Maybe this will convince you he's a thug, and no good for you if you want to ever make anything of yourself."

I took the file and opened it, thumbing through a dozen sheets of paper and photographs. Some of the names had been blacked out, but there was enough there that I could get the gist.

It was a police report about an assault that happened over a year earlier. The man in the very graphic photographs had been beaten almost to death, his leg broken, his arm broken, and his face beaten so badly, his eyes were swollen shut.

There were two mug shots included in the file.

One of Sean.

One of Hunter.

I covered my mouth and read the police report with horror. The man's wife reported that her husband owed Donald Saint money and that his nephews Sean and Hunter Saint had come to collect and had beaten him almost to death when he had no money.

"I can't believe it," I said and shook my head, my stomach feeling sick at what I saw in the photos.

"Believe it. I want you to promise you'll never see that boy again. He may seem all nice to you, but he's a thug underneath the pretty boy façade."

"I can't believe he actually beat someone up. He hates that side of his family."

"Apparently not enough to stay clean," Spencer said. "Blood is thicker than water, Celia. It's time for you to grow up and realize that. All that fighting he did as a kid made him and his brothers perfect for the protection racket that his uncle and father are involved in. If you want to be a prosecutor some day, you have to stay away from people like Hunter."

I shook my head, feeling a bit dizzy that Hunter had been involved in this kind of thing. He seemed so dead set against anything to do with his uncle.

"Stay away from him. Don't even talk to him again. If you agree, I'll keep funding you here at Kirkland House. I promised to fund you until you're twenty-one and I mean it. When you get control over your trust fund, you can do anything you want. I want you to get into Harvard Law. I'll even up your allowance so you can stop working. You have to be at least Magna Cum Laude to get into Harvard Law with any certainty, so I don’t want you to focus on anything else—not work, not boys."

"I'm nineteen, Spencer," I said, frowning. "They're not boys. They're men."

"In age, yes, but not in terms of maturity. I don't want you to throw away your life over some jerk-off."

"Hunter is hardly a jerk-off and you know it. He's got an MBA. He's going to boot camp to become a Marine."

"His father is part of the Romanov syndicate, laundering money for them. His uncle runs a protection racket. Hunter can't escape his genes or his family."

"He's not involved," I said, angrily. "Why can't you understand that Hunter's leaving Boston to get away from his family's bad influence?"

"That police report says different. Stop seeing him. Don't see him again. If you stay away from him, I'll up your allowance and you can stop working part time. Make high honors and you'll be a shoe-in to Harvard Law. I have markers to call in. I can help you."

"I don't need your help, Spencer," I said, tears in my eyes. "I can do it on my own. I got into Harvard on my own."

"No, you didn't. I gave you the edge. If you disobey me, you'll get no money until you're twenty-one. You'll have to work two part-time jobs and you won't be able to keep up your grades. You won't make it. Is some thug worth it? Really?"

We stood there, facing off against each other. He had hit me for less than this before, but I wasn't afraid of him now. In fact, if he were to die tomorrow, I wouldn't care, except for how it would affect my mother.

"If you don't obey me, I'll call up my contacts in the Marines and get him thrown out of that. I can make a lot of trouble for Hunter, and I will—unless you promise me you won't ever see him again. I'll put a call in to the commander at Parris Island. If I want, I can get him kicked out before he even gets there. But I'd rather see him become a Marine than stay here and continue to bring Graham down or, God forbid, ruin you."

I fumed silently, my fists clenched.

"I won't see him again," I said finally, confused about the police report, and not wanting Hunter to suffer because I was being selfish. Maybe Hunter had beaten up that man. I was too upset to think but I knew that he was going somewhere and doing something noble with his life. He wanted to escape his family's dark heritage. I wouldn't be the one to force him back into their clutches.

"You have to promise," Spencer said, his face dark. "I don't want you to even call him or speak with him. He's a bad seed, Celia, and his family is no good. I'm breaking the law bringing this file to you, but I thought you needed to know what he's capable of. Don't think he wouldn't do that again – or worse – if he felt he needed to protect his family. I'm doing this because I care about your future. You have no future with him."

I turned away, wanting to hide my eyes, which were brimming with a mixture of anger and sadness. Anger that Spencer would stoop so low as to block Hunter from a career with the Marines; sadness because I really liked Hunter and believed him when he said he wanted to escape his family, but for him to do that to the man who owed his uncle money?

Spencer came around and peered into my face. "Promise me," he said, his voice insistent. "If you don't, I'll call my contact and turn over the evidence I have on Hunter and his family. There are more files like that one," he said and shook the file. "Like death threats. Prostitution. Gun running. If the Marines knew about his involvement in that, they'd turn him down, no questions asked."

I shook my head. "All right," I said, and exhaled. "I promise. I don't want Hunter to be hurt because of me. Don't report him to the Marines. It's his escape from his family."

"If I find out you’re seeing him behind my back, I won't hesitate to call my contact. I mean it," he said, pointing his finger in my face.

"I won't," I said emphatically. "I'm not that selfish. He's leaving soon for Parris Island. I promise I won't see him again."

"Starting tonight," Spencer said, his frown dark. "Tonight."

I nodded. "Tonight. He'll probably email or text me, and I'll tell him I can't see him again."

"Do it now," Spencer said. "While I'm here. I want to see you do it."

I took out my cell and opened it to the messenger. I typed in a text to Hunter, my gut all knotted up.

Celia: Gonna have to cancel our plans. Too much work and can't afford to be distracted. Have to keep my grades up to keep my scholarship, so, thanks for everything. Have a good life.

I sent it and then showed it to Spencer, who grabbed my cell and frowned as he read the previous texts.

"Disgusting." He practically threw the phone back at me. "I'll be watching. I'll know if you see him. Believe me."

"You have someone watching me?"

"I have eyes everywhere."

Spencer gathered up the file and stuffed it back into his briefcase. Then, he headed for the door. Before he left, he turned back to me. "One day, you'll be happy I saved you from getting mixed up with him."

I didn’t reply, too upset to even open my mouth. I turned away and, finally, Spencer closed the door and left me alone.

* * *

Later that night, when I was sitting on the tiny two-seater sofa across from my television, I got a text from Hunter.

Hunter: Just got this. Are you okay?

I debated whether to reply, chewing my nail, torn about my response. If I left the text unanswered, he might come over and check to see if I was okay. I knew he was concerned about Spencer having hit me in the past. I had to respond and find a way to make it clear I wasn't interested.

I had to just shut it off. I couldn't get the picture of the man in the hospital bed out of my mind. How could Hunter do something like that?

It was all there in the police report. Hunter never told me or Graham about it, at least that I knew of. Even if we had a great time together, I knew Hunter would be out with some new woman in no time flat. He was never alone for long, and probably had a list of women happy to spend their nights with him.

I bit my lip and tried to word my text just right.

Celia: Oh, sorry—I'm fine. I know we planned on seeing each other again before you go, but I finally got a date with Greg. Now that I'm no longer burdened with my virginity, I have a lot of lost time to make up. I'm sure you of all people can understand that! Thanks again! Have a great time at Parris Island!

There was a long pause. I wondered if he could see through my fake happiness. Part of me hoped he did and came to the dorm to check on me. The other part, the part that wasn't a selfish bitch, hoped he shrugged it off and found some floozy he knew to divert his attention on the off-chance that he was sad.

There was no answer.

I stared at my phone for a long while, wanting oh so badly for him to text me and to see him secretly, ask him about the police report, but what would that do? If Spencer did have eyes everywhere, he'd go after Hunter, maybe cost him a place in the Marines. I hated to think of that happening, no matter how sad I was that I had to completely give up on him and no matter how horrified I was from reading the police report.

So instead of happily waiting for him to come over and pick me up for what I expected would be a night of pleasure, I lay on my bed and silently cursed Spencer. I cursed Hunter's family ties. I should have used the time to study, since I wasn't going to see Hunter, but I couldn't do it. I'd already read the same paragraph in my astronomy text three times and still didn’t understand it.

Someone else would come along who was as special as Hunter.

If I kept telling myself that lie, I might one day believe it.

Completely disheartened, I threw myself down on my bed and cried my eyes out.

END OF PART ONE

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Part Two: Bad Boy Sinner available now!