Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “For how long?”

  “Georgie, I promise as soon as I close my deal…I’ll take you somewhere. Shopping, maybe?”

  My emotions are overflowing and I glare at him. “You’re a dickhead. Shopping doesn’t solve everything. What about now? I need you now.”

  And I do. I need someone. Someone besides Sloane, who’ll break me more than anyone when he walks away.

  Cash’s phone rings. I transfer my glare to him when he seems to struggle with the decision on answering it or not. “Answer, asshole,” I snarl. “Someone out there really needs you.”

  “Georgie.”

  They both say my name at the same time and I sniffle.

  “I flew home immediately to check on you,” Josh says quietly.

  “And I hit the road a few hours after I got the call,” Cash adds, turning and heading to my window. The name Death Dwellers MC arc on the back of the cut, along with a grim reaper, holding a bloody scythe with eyes glowing. “I’m here.”

  Cash is former military and a man who doesn’t like to be tied down or boxed in for too long. He could stay on the road for days. After only a few minutes in my room, he’s going stir crazy.

  “Tell me about this Crowell assfuck,” he grumbles, still staring out the window.

  Josh clenches his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?” he asks, guilt dulling his eyes.

  “So he could leave me, too? So I could destroy your relationship? Real, true friendships aren’t easy to come by.”

  “If he’s Josh’s fucking friend, point me to his goddamn enemies,” Cash hisses.

  “He was…is…my friend,” I insist softly.

  “My condolences on his death.”

  “Cash!” I cry. “Leave him be. I had as much to do with our sex as he did…”

  Cash chokes and Josh loses his color. I realize my mistake immediately. They were talking about the drugs.

  “Wait. It wasn’t real sex,” I say quickly. “It was just oral sex.”

  Any other time, I would laugh at the obscene outrage in their faces. Not now, though. They both look like demons. Scared they’ll turn on me, I back against my bed.

  “Where is he?”

  Cash’s voice is all the more deadly for its calmness, contrasting the look in his eyes too much.

  “Grandma s-said he’s recovering,” I tell him. “I don’t know from what.”

  “Where?” he demands again.

  “I don’t know. Sloane said not to worry about it.”

  “Who the fuck is Sloane?” This from Cash, at the same time Josh says, “That singer person?”

  Okay, something else Grandma failed to mention to them. I nod, having learned my lesson with the sex with Crowell screw up. “He visited me with Grandma and Dad. To cheer me up.”

  The two of them exchange looks that I don’t necessarily like, but I change the subject quickly. “How long are you two in town?”

  Rubbing his eyes, Josh sighs. “I leave tomorrow afternoon. But I have…two, three months tops before I’ll be free for a few weeks.”

  “Okay.” What else is there to say? I lower my gaze and mumble, “you, Cash?”

  “How long do you want me to stay?”

  I haven’t seen my half-brother in years. I’d love to have him remain, so we can get to know each other again. I’m not the little girl he left behind and he’s grown into a rather hardened man. But I can’t. Because I’m leaving with Sloane and I don’t know when that’s happening. There’s enough complications without Cash interfering.

  Holding out my arms, I smile when he comes to me and embraces me, rubbing the back of my head. “I’ll be fine. Grandma and I have worked out a plan, so don’t worry.”

  He grunts.

  “Go whenever you have to,” I continue, blinking the water from my eyes. He smells like musk, mint, exhaust fumes, and the faintest hint of cologne. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you both came to see about me.”

  My voice wavers. Other than Sloane, no one has gone through a lot of trouble on my behalf.

  What about Crowell?

  Yeah, what about him? Although he’s my friend, he’s stupidly selfish, too.

  “We’re just a phone call away,” Josh swears, trading places with Cash.

  It’s a shame Josh can drop everything in an emergency, but can’t schedule time for me on a day-to-day basis.

  “Thank you.”

  Not long after my brothers leave. I’m sad to see them go, however, I know I have family members who truly care about me and that’s all that matters.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cassandra

  “You’re awake, dear. Excellent.”

  Mother’s voice grates through me and my head lulls to the side. If I could fold my arms and nod her away, I would. Money can buy anything. I need an Aladdin’s lamp, my own genie in a bottle.

  “Awake?” I scoff. “You mean not sedated.” Because that’s the state I’ve been in for days. When I awakened from Parnell’s hit, I was in an ambulance. Not to be taken to a medical center. No. I’m hours away from Houston in a mental hospital.

  “Yes, well, you needed to heal.”

  “From Parnell’s punch? Was it that bad?”

  Her lips tighten and she draws herself up. “He’s being dealt with. Georgie’s being helped, so I can focus completely on your recovery.”

  Oh, what joy. I glare at her, which she ignores.

  “Aren’t you going to ask where your daughter is?”

  “I’d prefer to know Parnell’s whereabouts.”

  She tsks.

  “Fine,” I mutter. “Where’s Georgie?”

  “With Sloane,” she answers, patting her hair as if she’s just announced something other than my worst nightmare. “When you’re stronger, I’ll tell you all of my reasons. Right now, I thought it best. She’ll listen to him more than she’ll take heed of an old woman like me.”

  “Of course, Mother,” I reply sweetly.

  “Following orders out of fear is effective, but she’s been through enough. He’s her contemporary and he seems to care about her.”

  “So you chose to lock me away instead of her because…”

  “I have an end goal.”

  “Don’t you always?”

  “Mother knows best, dear.”

  Tears rush to my eyes because, in this case, she doesn’t. “He was my lover, so I don’t understand how it’s best she’s with him instead of me.”

  “He was the man you locked your daughter up over,” she says sharply.

  I flush. I never told her my reasons, but she knows me so well.

  “You don’t really want him. You want your lovely husband.”

  “Lovely?” I snort, the image of him fucking Abby rising to my head.

  “Lovely,” she reiterates, a calculating gleam in her eyes. “Forget Sloane Mason.”

  “You don’t care that they’re lovers?”

  “He’s not going to touch her again.”

  Mother doesn’t look old, but her brain is ancient if she’s naïve enough to believe that.

  “His focus is protecting his own self. Trust me in this, Cassandra. When she returns in a couple of days, Sloane Mason will be a memory best forgotten.”

  Hoping she’s correct, I change the subject. “I want to sleep,” I whine.

  She nods and presses the button to call the nurse. It’s the only way I’ll settle down. While I’m outwardly calm, inwardly I’m seething. Sloane Mason will always be the one who rejected me because of Georgie.

  I hate them both for it.

  Georgie

  “Georgiana?”

  I must be dreaming. There’s no other reason to hear Maitland Carrington’s voice whispering my name. I have no business that I remember with Phoenix Rising’s drummer.

  “Wake up,” he coaxes again.

  Unable to resist his laid-back voice, I open my eyes and find his tatted fingers gripping my bedrails. The smile I offer him is groggy.

  “Hey,” I c
roak through dry lips and an equally dry mouth. I shift in bed and flex my hand, surprised to find the IV removed. My wrists are still wrapped, but all the monitors are gone.

  “Hey, kiddo. You’ve been released. I’m here to collect my little sister.”

  My brows draw together. When I look towards the blinds, they are still closed, but no sunlight sneaks through. “What time is it?”

  “Two AM.”

  “But—"

  “Sloane’s been here for six days, Georgiana,” he interrupts. “The press is circling, so we have to move you before word gets out about the reason.”

  I swallow. “Won’t I be missed? If you steal me in the middle of the night, Grandma won’t be happy.”

  My attending physician recommended I go to an in-treatment facility. His determination rubbed Grandma the wrong way. Yesterday, I had a new doctor who catered to me because, as I eventually found out through an ass-kissing nurse, my previous doctor had been relieved of his duties due to insubordination.

  More like going against Helen Sanderson’s wishes. People have to learn the hard way, I suppose.

  “This is her doing.” His gray eyes are intense. “If you know anything about us, you know fucking well I have no sister. My parents are calling. My brothers are calling me. We’re scrambling for a story to cover Sloane’s ass.”

  “Shocking,” I say dryly. “Considering you scarcely spoke to Sloane. Or how about the way you agree with the rest of them about kicking him out of the band he founded.”

  I’m angry on Sloane’s behalf. Can’t these people see they’re adding to Sloane’s stress?

  “You have him by the balls, forcing him to do shit. All it’s doing is ruining him.”

  “Stay out of it. There are things you don’t understand.”

  “Maybe. But what I do understand is ride or die. Loyalty to the end. Phoenicians rise or fall together.” I turn my back on him to effectively ignore the torture blooming on his face. “You’ve known him—you all have—since you were twelve or thirteen? How can you just desert him?”

  “Do you think it was easy?” he bites out.

  “It must’ve been,” I retort. “You did it.”

  “And I’m trying to fucking make it up to him.”

  “Bullshit. You’re just protecting your bank account.”

  He huffs out a breath. “I’m not fucking Kiln and Jaeger. You see it as a desertion of my best friend. I see it as a last ditch fucking effort to save his life. He lived and breathed his music. Nothing…Nothing…but the threat of his expulsion got through to him.”

  “You think? He’s distracted. As proven by the fact that he’s so focused on me. You’re ruining him once and for all. The only justice is you all will be ruined too. Without him, the band’s fucking shit.”

  “Jesus, but you’re a little bitch.” Judging by the sound of scraping against skin, I know he’s scratching his scruffy jaw. He grunts-growls, some type of man sound that screams pure frustration with the female sex.

  “Fuck off.” I twist the knife of irritation deeper and curl up. “I’ve decided I’m not going with Sloane. I refuse to allow him to, whatever, because of me.”

  My dad has made no more attempts to talk to me and my mom is just plain MIA. Physically, this time, rather than the emotional absence she’s subjected me to for so long. Grandma knows where she’s at because my grandmother knows everything. She’s the FBI, the CIA, the Supreme Court, and the Executioner.

  She loves me and spoils me, but her mind games are intense. I steer clear of her as much as possible, so my change of heart to stay behind with her is monumental for me. My fear sends tears to my eyes and I sniffle. “Sloane’s risked a lot for me. If he won’t protect himself, then I have to do it for him.”

  Maitland settles his hand on my hip. “If you want to protect him, then get the fuck up and come with me. He’s downstairs waiting. We’ve cancelled the entire fucking Midwestern leg of the tour. Money lost that can’t be recovered. If you stay behind, that’ll all be for nothing, Georgiana.”

  Leave it to me to cause trouble. My heart starts to beat fast at Maitland’s words and confusing behavior. “Why are you helping him now?”

  “That’s my fucking business,” he snaps.

  “You’re setting him up. Aren’t you?”

  “No. I swear I’m not.”

  I’m still not convinced. Nothing is adding up. “You’re sure willing to cater to my questions. You’re doing this why? You can just tell me to fuck off.”

  Before he answers, my door opens again. Maitland’s body is blocking my view, so I don’t see Kiln until he’s standing at the edge of my bed. “You and your stupid fucking smirk can go the hell away.”

  The stupid fucking smirk doesn’t change as he pulls out his cell phone and dials a number. “Hold a moment,” he says a second later and then hands it to me.

  Eyeing it with suspicion, I snatch it from him. “Hello?”

  “Georgiana, dear. Time for you to go. It’s all been arranged. You work on yourself while I deal with your mother and father.”

  My grandmother doesn’t wait for me to respond. She hangs up. For the short amount of time I was on the phone, Kiln has gathered a bag that I’ve never seen, and handed it to Maitland. Smiling coolly, Kiln sweeps me into his arms and, together, we leave the hospital.

  Sloane

  Pres engages me in conversation as I stand next to the SUV in a parking garage, waiting for Georgie. Maitland was supposed to go in and come back out in the amount of time it took him to get to her room and bring her down. When ten minutes went by, I sent Kiln.

  Helen has brokered an uneasy deal between us. My father isn’t happy but since she knows he was supposed to have gone to Cassandra’s and Parnell’s bed, he has no choice but to agree.

  On the surface, Helen’s spoiling Georgie by allowing her to come with me. But this is all for Cassandra’s benefit, retribution on her behalf. My father should take lessons from Helen. She’s more brutal than he could ever hope to be, and she doesn’t leave corpses in her wake. Her pleasure comes from creating a hell on earth for the living.

  The doors open. Maitland walks out, grim-faced, followed by Kiln with Georgie in his arms. Distaste runs through me. I hurry to them, snatching her into my hold.

  Our gazes meet for a brief moment before she lays her head on my chest and sighs. I draw in a deep breath, too. The time we spend together will be about control and self-restraint. Once I’m done, Helen expects me to walk away and never look back.

  Georgie

  Although it isn’t needed, a blanket is tossed around my shoulders as Sloane guides me from the SUV to a private jet. It’s still dark, early morning, just after three, and I spent the entire ride curled up on his lap, feeling safe and protected. The intermittent kisses he placed on the crown of my head opens a well of tenderness in me. My adoration with the “idol” is quickly turning into love for the “man”. I’m not sure where this is leading, but instinct tells me it isn’t anywhere either of us would like to be.

  It was a quick, selfish decision on my part that made me choose him over my grandmother. Sloane’s recklessness is well-documented, which is the reason I changed my mind, until Sloane weighed in.

  Press reports may have gotten his favorite food and movie wrong, but they’ve nailed his rashness on the head. And, yet, now that I’m in his arms, his erection hard against my ass, his scent invading my nostrils, unerring trust replaces my regret.

  He knows what he’s doing. More than that, though, he has my grandmother’s support. She’ll make it all right.

  When we walk on the band’s plane, I gasp. Dad is wealthy, but even he isn’t this wealthy. The luxurious cream-colored interior boggles my mind. Everything is plush and decadent. My feet sink into the carpeting. The seats look inviting and overstuffed. The only splash of color is the band’s logo painted on the ceiling.

  I’m so awed I allow Sloane to lead me through a door, passing through a room with seats and a large screen television, and
into a lavish area with a round bed, a mirrored ceiling with track lighting marching down the middle, and two shiny red nightstands.

  As he removes the blanket, his fingers touch my collarbone. I’m still in a hospital gown, as if I’m an escapee. I smile at the thought, not protesting when he guides me to the bed and urges me down. Once I sit, he lifts each of my hands to check my wrists.

  “What the fuck possessed you?” he says, more to himself than to me, so I don’t respond.

  “Sleep,” he tells me and begins to turn away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To my seat.”

  “You aren’t joining me?”

  Sighing, he kneels next to me. “Our time together won’t be what you’re expecting,” he reiterates and brushes my cheek. “Just listen to me and it’ll be fine.”

  “But—"

  He stands up. “No buts, Georgiana,” he says harshly. “I told you to sleep and I expect you to go to fucking sleep.”

  “You’re really impressed with your powers of persuasion if you believe I’ll fall asleep because you’ve ordered me to do so,” I grouch to goad him.

  For a moment, it works. He pauses at the door before stalking out without responding to me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sloane

  “Sit.”

  The harshness of my voice resounds in my head, but I ignore every thought except my need to snap Georgie into shape. Coddling her won’t do the trick, for me or for her. I’ll forget my purpose for this and lose my battle to keep my hands off of her.

  This is all new to me and another pathetic excuse to have her at my side. As pathetic as I am. However, I have a plan to overcome my wretchedness as I look after Georgie. Hire escorts. Or, maybe, an escort, so my location is better kept secret.

  Fucking women is the only way to keep my libido under control with Georgie. Not that I have a problem with that. Except I know Georgie will…would, if she ever found out.