The Johnson Saga: The Unwilling Mistress

Chapter 4

The weekend passed so quickly. Before Catt could catch her breath, it was Monday morning. 

Catt and Shai busy themselves in the large and well-organized kitchen, surrounded by the smell of coffee. Luckily for them, they didn't need to spend any money on appliances, as Catt's mom had filled her kitchen with a chef's desires. 

A four-plate burner with a large oven stands in the middle of the room against the right wall. A double door fridge occupies the space on the other side of the room. The mounted cupboards contain pots, pans and every cutlery imaginable. 

Each absorbed in the mundane but very necessary task of making lunch. The wheat bread already buttered, while Shai fills it with every topping she can find in the fridge, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, cheese. When her hand reaches for the bottle of pickled peppadews, Catt groans. Turning around from her stainless-steel workstation, Shai laughs, "What, no heat?" 

"My stomach has not recovered from all the Jack and shooters, from Saturday night. Please, nothing for me." The mundane conversation is interrupted by the beeping sound coming from Catt's phone. Reaching into the back pocket of her skinny black jeans, Catt removes her phone and unlocks the screen. The laughing smile that had been on her face slowly vanishes, as she reads the message and reality hits. Her time of reckoning has arrived. 

Shai looking at her, says, "Ryder." Not a peep had been heard from him since the incident on Saturday, Catt knew it was the calm before the storm. Ryder would make her wait and stew over his reaction. Turning her phone screen to Shai, she nods. 

"My house, 5;30. Vince will pick you up." 

Catt had morning classes at College, completing her third year in Business Management. Then an afternoon shift at the medical center, where she worked part-time as a receptionist. Her shift was one to five. Clearly, Ryder wasn't giving her any chance to run away. Two seconds later her phone rings, caller id displaying Vince. Unable to run away from the ineffable, Catt answers. 

Like his boss, no greeting, straight to business, "I will pick you up at seven for college." 

Apprehension gives way to anger, "No, I am meeting Ryder tonight, I will drive myself to college and I got work after that, I need to change." 

"Catt for crying out loud, just stop this bullshit," Vince shouts. "You are in a world of trouble, and me along with you. I am picking you up, and that's final. I'm outside when you are ready." 

Catt rushes to the sitting room window that faces the road. Pushes the curtains aside and true to his word, there sits Vince in a sleek black Jaguar. The window is rolled down as he waves to her, big beefy hands stained with ink across both knuckles. A thick gold bracelet and matching necklace are the only jewelry Vince wears. His bald head and large stature give him the appearance of a soldier. But light blue eyes, almost ice white, tell you, this is a merciless killer. The same eyes that are pinned on Catt right now. Vince was mobster since thirteen, and loyal to the bone. He followed Ryder's instruction without thought of the consequences, like grabbing Catt, forcing her into a car and taking her to wherever he was told. 

Catt never doubted Vince would kill her in a heartbeat if ordered to. "Oh, crap," says Catt. Hanging up the phone, she drops herself into the nearest couch. A five-piece cream settee with a matching carpet dominates the area. Along with a plasma television set mounted on the wall and tall surround speakers. Catt doesn't even register the sound coming out, as fury boiled a furnace inside. Little by little Ryder took away her right to choose. So much for spending a few more hours away from him. Maybe because she knew what the evening would bring, time just flew by.