In my dream, my mother was alive. I was a kid again, and she was smiling down at me. She took me by the hand and led me outside, into the park.

As we walked toward the jungle gym, she talked. I couldn’t understand her, but she sounded happy. Slowly though, her face began to morph. The skin around her face became bruised and beaten, black and blue, old and decaying.

I woke up with a start just as my mother turned into a skeleton before my eyes.

My apartment was empty and quiet. I was on the couch and the early morning sun was streaming in through the window. I’d gotten maybe three or four hours of sleep at most, and I probably wasn’t getting much more tonight.

I sat back and sighed. I had a small television set up against the wall, a coffee table, a little kitchen table, and that was about it. The place felt bare because it was. I spent most of my time out on jobs, at clubs, and occasionally at the Barone mansion. I just didn’t have time to decorate or any of that shit.

As I scanned the room, I felt like something was off. Something was wrong. I slowly got off the couch and walked toward the bedroom door. I eased it open gently and peered inside.

The bed was empty.

“Shit,” I said.

I went through the whole place, which took about thirty seconds. Emma was gone, absolutely gone.

I quickly got dressed and slipped my gun into my jeans. I had to find her before anyone else did, or else she was dead and I wasn’t too far behind her.

Damn girl. She was a lot more difficult than I had imagined. Strong willed and with a big fucking temper to boot. I never would have guessed that she was going to come at me like she did. She was like a fucking wild animal when I let her out of the closet, a beautiful fucking wild animal.

I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to see her strip. The girl had a body like nothing I’d ever seen before, and my cock was hard just thinking about her. Those lips and that fierce expression on her face, angry and resentful, hatred etched across her eyes, it just made me more fucking excited.

I wanted to slide my thick cock between her legs, feel that dripping pussy. I was willing to bet I could tame her wild streak with my fingers and my tongue, get her begging for my big cock to make her come again and again.

But I could worry about that another time. Right now I needed to find her.

I pushed out of my apartment and hit the stairs, taking them two at a time. I had no clue when she left or where she was going, but I had to try to find her.

I stopped in my tracks as I got to the bottom of the stairs. Emma was curled in the corner next to the front door of the apartment building. I walked toward her cautiously until I realized that she was fast asleep.

Did she get down here and forget how to use a door? It wasn’t locked, so she could have easily just opened it and left.

“Emma,” I said, standing over her.

She didn’t stir.

“Emma,” I said again, more loudly, and nudged her with my toe.

She jolted awake, sitting up and looking around wildly.

“It’s okay,” I said. “You’re safe.”

She stared up at me defiantly for a second before looking down at the ground. “I wanted to leave,” she said.

“Door’s right there.”

“I don’t have money, or anywhere to go.” She looked back up at me. “I’ve never been out of Chicago.”

I frowned. “Really?”

She nodded and sighed. “Dad never let me. Plus, I don’t know anybody outside the city.”

“Come on,” I said, holding my hand out to her. “Let’s get some breakfast.”

She stared up at me with those fucking beautiful eyes. “You don’t own me,” she said. “Just because I didn’t run away doesn’t mean you own me.”

“Okay,” I said. “How about we have this discussion somewhere less public?”

She pushed herself up from the floor, ignoring my outstretched hand. She looked even smaller in the daylight, her thick figure, full ass, and perfect tits still gorgeous even covered by my oversized clothes.

“Lead the way, killer,” she said.

I laughed and climbed the steps. I heard her following close behind.

Once we were in the apartment, I shut the door and locked it. “Sit,” I said, nodding at the kitchen table.

She sat down. “Dismal place,” she said. “I didn’t notice last night, but did you just move in or something?”

I laughed. “Nah. Been here for a while.”

“Why’s it so empty?”

“I don’t spend much time in here.” I went into the kitchen and began to root around for some food. “You’re probably used to that disgusting mess your dad made in your old house.”

“I hated that,” she said, “but he just kept bringing shit home. I couldn’t stop it, so I mostly stayed in my own room when I was home.”

“How does someone get like that?”

She was silent for a minute as I put some coffee on and then began making eggs. It was pretty much all I had, anyway. I was going to have to get some more food if Emma was going to stay here.

“Happened slowly,” she said. “After my mom died, he just fell apart.”

“Sounds like what happened with my mom,” I commented, not thinking about it, “except my dad ran out on her, and she decided a slow suicide by drinking was the way to go.”

“My mom died from cigarettes.”

“Looks like we have a lot in common, a tragic fucking past and a fucked-up present.”

“At least you’re not a prisoner.”

I grinned at her. “Do prisoners get fucking eggs cooked for them plus free coffee?”

“Yeah,” she said. “They feed you in prison.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, this will be better than prison food.”

“I doubt it.”

She dropped back into a sullen silence, and I couldn’t help but glance at her as I cooked. She was looking out the window, a frown on her face. I couldn’t blame the girl for being upset, what with everything going down the fucking way it did.

I finished cooking, poured two mugs of coffee, and sat down across from her, putting the plates down. “Dig in,” I said.

She picked at the eggs, but she drank the coffee.

“What do we do from here?” she asked finally.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, aren’t you supposed to show them my corpse or something?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

“Seeing as how you say you won’t kill me, that sounds like a problem.”

“We have time,” I said.

“How long?”

I shrugged. “A few days.”

“Not much time.”

“I’ll work it out. Trust me, girl, I’ve been in worse situations.”

“Have you?” She leaned back in her chair. “I haven’t. Actually, this is the most fucked-up situation I’ve ever been in.”

“Fair point.” I sipped my coffee. “You always this pissed off?”

“Only when I’m stuck eating breakfast with my father’s killer.”

“Don’t act like you miss that abusive fucking bastard.”

“I don’t,” she said. “If I could walk away from this right now, I’d thank you. Unfortunately, I’m stuck with you.”

“I saw the way you looked at me,” I said, smirking at her. “Last night when I took my shirt off. It’s not so bad, being stuck with me.”

“You cocky asshole.”

“Step down off your pedestal, girl. I saved your damn life, and I’m trying to figure out a way to keep us both alive.”

She was silent for a second, chewing her lip. Finally, she sighed and seemed to relax. “Okay,” she said. “I get it. You saved my life.”

“I didn’t put you in that house. I just didn’t pull the fucking trigger like I was supposed to.”

“I’m not going to thank you.”

“I’m not asking you to. Just quit looking at me like you want to stab a knife in my throat.”

A small smile softened her hard expression. “I’m not looking at you like that.”

“Maybe not. Maybe you’d rather I sank my thick cock between those legs of yours.”

“Now you’re even further from the truth.”

I finished eating and then took my plate to the sink. I grabbed my mug of coffee and sipped it as she folded her legs underneath her.

“Look, I need to get you some clothes if you’re going to stay here.”

“That’d be nice,” she said, “so I don’t have to wear your ratty stuff.”

I ignored that. “Make a list of what you want. I’ll go to your house once and only once, so don’t forget anything. And only stuff I can carry in one trip.”

“Any other rules?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I prefer thongs. I love to see that ass move when I slap it.”

“Got it. I’ll leave the thongs behind.”

I grinned at her. “Go make your list. I’ll leave soon. I want to get there and get back before people realize your dad is dead.”

“Fine.” She stood up. “Pen and paper?”

“In my bedroom on the bureau.”

She disappeared and I heard the bedroom door shut.

My fucking cock was rock hard as I stood there. She was so angry, so fucking gorgeous, and it only made me that much more into it. I was making her smile, making her laugh a little bit, and she was warming up to me.

She’d figure out that I just meant to save her life eventually. She had to. Otherwise it was going to be pretty fucking hard keeping us both alive.

I had to take this shit one step at a time. Get her clothes first, and then maybe I could get her out of them.