Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  No. Seeing Dietrech reminded me of all the reasons he should die. Fuck the inheritance. Fuck being Dad’s favorite. Sloane helped my wife to betray me.

  Mother wails. My head pounds.

  My hand trembles and I realize I’m still holding my gun. Once again, I re-holster it and go to Mother.

  “Asshole, wait for me,” I instruct Montana, then lead Mother to her bedroom.

  “It isn’t as if I can go any fucking where,” Montana calls. “I came with Sean.”

  It takes me an hour to settle Mother down. Once she’s calm enough to swallow a sedative and she falls asleep, I go out to find Montana with my mother’s expensive towels wrapped around his fucking thigh.

  “Thanks for getting me released from Sean’s employ.”

  I glare at him. He gives me a sullen look.

  “What now?” he asks when I remain silent.

  When I ran into Montana at Sean’s place, he remained tight-lipped. Now, he’s out on his own, so he might be more willing to give detailed answers to my questions. I start at the beginning.

  “You tell me what happened the night Raine went to the diner and found your ID and blood.”

  Closing his eyes, he rests his head on the back of the chair. “I don’t know. Once Raine left, Chambers and I talked. I convinced him to let me go so I’d get the money I owed him.”

  “You didn’t think about finding your sister?”

  He sighs. “Listen, man. As long as Raine thinks I’m alive, she’s going to stick by me. I had to find some way to get her away so she can pull herself out of the gutter instead of wallowing in it with me.”

  “Why did you allow her to runaway with you? She could’ve had a much better life.”

  “Maybe. Or, maybe, she’d be dead. Who knows? As long as my stepfather kept my mother supplied with drugs and alcohol, she didn’t give a fuck about us. She watched Raine beg and plead for her kitten’s life. The asshole killed it anyway. My twelve-year-old sister was heartbroken and I couldn’t do nothing. We forged a bond. I took as many ass beatings as I could for her, but he’d make her strip. In front of me. In front of my friends, and beat her with a belt for the smallest infraction. Probably, that’s why she took so well to whoring. He stripped her of her dignity at a young age.”

  I feel sick to my fucking stomach. Seeing the tears rushing to Montana’s eyes as he speaks about the torture Raine went through makes me understand a little better, his decision to allow her to think he’s dead.

  “I’m holding her down, man.”

  I sit, too overwhelmed to do anything else. “Did he sexually assault her?”

  “He was too busy assaulting me to do it to her,” he says matter-of-factly.

  His lips thin and his face harden. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? I love Raine, but I hate her, too.” He sighs. “Nothing you’d understand, so go ahead and judge me.”

  Who’s the hypocrite now? His words hit a little too close to home. Even if I don’t love Sloane, I care about Jaeger. He insists Sloane wouldn’t accept anything from Dad.

  Why can’t I take that into account? Sloane’s hate for our father is real.

  Why can’t I realize that killing Sloane didn’t enter into my mind, until my mother brought it up? Then, I found all kinds of reasons to justify my intentions.

  Montana thinks I don’t understand. If only he knew.

  “You can’t tell her I’m alive.”

  “She’s heartbroken. I have to tell her to ease her pain.”

  “Didn’t you hear anything I said? She’ll want to come with me.”

  “What difference does it make? I’ll find some position for you.” Inspiration hits me. “I’ll put you on one of the security details.”

  “I’m a fucking assassin, not a goddamn bodyguard,” he growls.

  “Raine told me you were a thief.”

  “Did she?” he challenges. “Or did she say I did jobs for Chambers.”

  The question rolls through me and I widen my eyes.

  “Yeah, I see you finally get it. I’m a hired gun. The only way to keep my sister safe while I did jobs for Chambers was to let her whore herself out. But I fucked up. Got a little greedy. Got a woman with a taste for powder. I needed money. I’m still alive because of Raine.”

  “Then you fucked up again.”

  “No.”

  “You stole money from him. Or did Raine lie?”

  “Raine didn’t lie. She thinks I stole money from him, but it was a set-up to separate Raine from me.”

  “Explain.”

  “I was ready to move on. Hire out my skills elsewhere. Chambers offered me a lot of money for her. But she was the problem. The plan was for Chambers to tie her up and bring me in the back. A gun would go off. He’d come out and threaten to kill her, if she didn’t pay off my debts, so my death didn’t take care of it all. Once he took her to his house, I’d leave.”

  “And what about Raine? You’d leave her to an uncertain future with Chambers?”

  “Raine’s resourceful. He either would’ve killed her because of her sass or gotten tired of her and kicked her out.”

  I stare at Montana, appalled at how cavalier he was with Raine’s life.

  “How the fuck did I come into play?”

  He grins. “Sheer coincidence. Chambers wasn’t going to let her go, until he heard that she had a meeting with you. He saw dollar signs. Neither one of us thought she’d find you.”

  “What would’ve happened if she hadn’t?”

  “I still would’ve been ‘dead’.” He uses air quotations. “He would’ve roughed her up, then continued with the original plan.”

  “Whose blood is in the diner.”

  “Some girl that Chambers shot. He had me bring him to the bus station. I think she belonged to someone else, so there’s a price on his head. Who cares?”

  Montana is the most selfish fucker I’ve ever met. He didn’t care what happened to Raine. Didn’t give a fuck if she ended up dead. I can’t believe what the fuck I’m hearing. Who does that to family?

  Fuck. I wince at the thought, then shove it aside. I can’t let my conscience, or Raine and Jaeger’s words, ruin my plans.

  I return to the original subject. “How long have you been homeless?”

  “This time around, about four months.”

  “What the fuck do you mean this time around?”

  “When we first ran away, we were on the streets for almost a year.”

  We size each other up.

  “Still convinced Raine should know I’m alive?”

  “Fuck no. As a matter of fact, if you come near her, I’ll fuck you up myself.”

  He grins. “Like you did Sean?”

  I scowl at him.

  He rubs his eyes. “I wish you had. Know how I got the money to give to Chambers?”

  Silent, I lift an inquiring brow.

  “Sean. Or one of his dealers. I stole it.”

  “You stole from the man who hired you?”

  “There’s no honor among thieves and liars,” he quips. “Sean hasn’t figured it out yet.” He winks. “If he had, I’d be fish food.”

  He’s convinced me to keep him far away from Raine. She doesn’t need to know he’s alive. He has a fucking death wish. Once Sean discovers his crimes, Montana will also have an expiration date.

  “Do you really want Sloane Mason iced?” he asks, breaking our silence.

  “Yes,” I answer with only a slight hesitation. “We have a few weeks to plan for it. Let me check on my mother, then we can negotiate a deal.”

  “You got it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Though Jaeger doesn’t leave the premises, I’m alone for the next few hours. He is in a room down the hallway, toward the front of the house. Hearing his voice, every now and them, lets me know the door is open. He wants me aware of his

  presence to remind me of our conversation.

  As afternoon slides into evening, I throw together a meal then go to Kiln’s suite and shower. After I leave
the bathroom and walk back into his bedroom, I spy the extra clothes he grabbed for me from Georgie Mason’s closet, in a corner. For a moment, I debate with myself. I love the pretty outfits, and hate for them to just lay in a heap, unused. With the disregard he showed to her things, Kiln snatched the clothes as an act of revenge, rather than concern for me. Using me as a pawn in whatever game he’s playing, gets to me.

  However, I’m suffering from a huge case of vainness. I want to put on something fashionable. I want to look and feel pretty. Not only to soften Kiln up, but for myself. To cheer me up. Lessen the ache I feel for Montana.

  The admissions curls around my insides, and I sigh. As long as I remember I’m a passing fancy for Kiln and this world he’s thrown me in can end at any moment, I won’t get attached to any of this stuff. It’s my brief fairytale, complete with a knight-in-shining-armor.

  Agitated, I readjust my towel and suffer another moment of indecision, before heading to the clothes. I pick up different pieces, taking more care with them than Kiln did. A bright red skater dress with a plunging neckline and shimmering lace catches my eye.

  Standing, I hold the gorgeous dress in front of me. Having the towel wrapped around me doesn’t do it justice, so I lean back as far as I can go and peep through the open door to the sitting area. It’s as quiet as a mouse. Kiln isn’t here yet, so I drop the towel.

  I place the dress against my nude body. Kick one leg up and, then, the other. Giggling, I twirl, fascinated at how the skirt moves with me, sparkling like a fiery blaze. Since he doesn’t have a mirror in his room, I hurry to his bathroom to see myself.

  When I do, I gasp. The dress is absolute perfection, as if it was made for me. I want to pinch myself. I’m afraid if I do, I’ll be thrown back to reality and into my world.

  The thought freezes me. Steals my joy. Would going back mean all of this never happened and Montana would still be alive?

  Or would it mean he’d still be dead but I’d be living under Sean’s rules?

  It just doesn’t seem fair that I’m here and my brother’s gone.

  Tears slide down my cheeks. “Fuck!” With a growl, I swipe them away. I can’t help Montana, but I can help Kiln. I can’t lose myself in grief.

  Heavy-hearted, I return to the bedroom and search the pile of garments again, this time for a panty set. Once I settle on black lace, I move to the heap of shoes. Between Kiln and I, we stole a massive amount from the lady of the house.

  That sucks so fucking much. When she returns, I will admit to what I’ve done. It’s only right. Even when I broke into people’s houses to shower, if I stole clothes, I only took one outfit for me and one for Montana.

  “Are you trying to make yourself miserable, Raine?” I mutter, clunching the dress to my chest like a lifeline and kneeling before the shoes. There’s no red but I find a stiletto-heeled, dark blue fur-strapped, sandal. The back part zips up. Inside, I see the name of a designer I’ve never heard of, but if Georgie Mason has these shoes, I know they are of high quality.

  Before I decide to drop these things and put the outfit from earlier back on, I return to the bathroom and quickly dress. Puckering my lips, I smack them together, then turn my head from side-to-side.

  My hair is clean, wildly curly and smells like heaven. My face—my body—is grime-free. Being dirty weighs me down, as if each particle clinging to me is ten pounds. I don’t have make-up or jewelry or pins for my hair, but I’m thankful for this moment in my life.

  On the street, it felt as if I’d never lift myself out of that mire. I had dreams. Don’t we all? But I never knew how we’d achieve them. I say we because Montana was there with me. It just seems as if every time we made strides, he fucked up. Or he allowed a girlfriend to do so. There were even times when I regretted leaving my mother’s house.

  If I regretted running away from that hellhole, things were fucking serious.

  That’s all in the past, I remind myself. Montana is gone, but I’m alive, and I’m not going to let him down by folding. I’m going to hold steady and forge ahead. For him. Because of him. With him watching over me.

  Despite my pep talk, I’m sad when I leave Kiln’s suite, and head to the kitchen. The room Jaeger was in earlier is empty and dark. Just as I reach the den, the entrance door opens.

  Instead of running down the hall as I did earlier, I lean against the back of the sofa and fold my arms. A minute later, Kiln appears and stops.

  Real, true appreciation gleams from his blue-green orbs, and I grin at him. The look on his face fills me with pride.

  Fatigue darkens his eyes. I want to help him and ease whatever he’s going through.

  “Are you a fucking sight for sore eyes,” he rumbles, finally walking toward me.

  I react like a girl, and preen. Later, I might want to kick my own ass. Now, I feel special. Aha! That’s what it is. When he isn’t being a jackass, he makes me feel…special, as if I’m the only woman in the world.

  That’s the reason Jaeger calling me a whore bothered me so much. Until then, alone in this beautiful house, playing house, I felt special. Normal.

  “I cooked dinner,” I tell him as he stops in front of me.

  He’s so deliciously tall and muscled.

  “Wonders never cease. The other night, I wanted a sandwich and you baled. Tonight, you cooked a meal.”

  Amused sarcasm is threaded in his words. He’s skirting jackass territory again. I shrug. “I was bored, alone all day, with nothing to do.”

  “So you cleaned and cooked?”

  “Yep.” I smack my lips on the ‘p’.

  He indicates the dress. “Any reason you’re in that?”

  “Nope.” Another smacked ‘p’. I wish I had gum to pop.

  He raises his hand to my cheek, then pulls back. “Don’t you want to know if I like how you look?”

  I sure do, but fuck him. I’ll rip my own fingernails out before I ask. “Sure don’t,” I say with a sniff. “If you wanted me to know, you’d tell me. Besides, I didn’t dress for you, Kiln. I dressed for me.”

  Lies!

  The jackass smirks at me. “Sure, Raine. Because you have an opportunity to wear designer duds for a handsome man every fucking day.”

  I glare at him. “You’re such a fucking conceited asshole,” I snarl. The man sure the fuck knows how to push my buttons.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” He settles his hands on my waist and pulls me forward, nuzzling my neck before holding my gaze with his own. “If you really don’t want me to tell you how you look, doll, I won’t. If you want to know, though, you’re going to have to ask me.”

  I run my finger over his chest. “I guess I’ll never know, dude.”

  Bending, he brushes his lips across mine. “We’ll see about that. I’ll bet you a cock suck that before this night is over, you’ll ask.”

  My arms encircle his neck and I kiss his chin. “I don’t have a cock. What’s in it for me if I win?”

  He assaults my mouth with his, thrusting his tongue past my lips in a hot and heavy kiss that almost scramble my brains. The intensity of it wets my pussy and I grind against his rapidly hardening dick.

  Dirty, low motherfucker. Pulling out all the tricks to change my mind about fucking him. Well, fuck him, but not that way.

  I pull away, mid-kiss. He doesn’t release his hold on my waist. “Not happening,” I say breathlessly. My nipples are hard and hurting and my cunt is cursing me to high heaven. Both she and I want Kiln inside. But he’s doing this my way or no way. I don’t care what Jaeger asked me to do. Kiln is such a smug asshole, he thinks I’m going to give in and change my mind. “We’re not fucking for at least seven days.”

  A scowl replaces his desire. “Is that so?”

  “Uh-huh,” I say, sing-song.

  “Do you really think your pussy’s that good that I’ll wait to get some for a whole fucking week? If you don’t fuck me, I can call any number of women who will.”

  Annnndddd, just like that, my fantasy bursts. K
iln is no knight-in-shining-armor. He’s a dickhead-in-rusty-tin.

  I plant my hands on my hips. “Fuck whoever you please,” I bite out. “I have no claim on you.”

  Surprise crosses his face, then he stiffens. “What game are you playing? Tell me now. Is it more money you’re after?”

  “How the fuck can I be after more money when you haven’t given me any yet?”

  “I gave you money. You wanted to pretend you were too high-and-mighty to take it.”

  “You think? It was the principle, fuckface.”

  “Women don’t have principles. Or morals. Or decency.”

  “And you do?” I scoff. “You make up your goddamn mind right now. Stop comparing me to other women or don’t fucking talk to me.”

  He opens his mouth to speak, then blows out a frustrated breath, and rubs his eyes. A muscle ticks in his jaw. “What did you cook?”

  His lips are so tight as he speaks, I’m surprised any sound came out.

  “Meatloaf with brown gravy, mashed potatoes, and carrots.”

  He grimaces. “You’re kidding me.”

  It’s my turn to be surprised. “I’m not. Why? Is there a problem?”

  “I can’t remember the last time I had meatloaf.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?” I ask brightly, still not seeing a reason for the irritation on his face and in his eyes.

  “No.”

  Why am I shocked that he’s being so difficult? “It’s only meatloaf. It won’t kill you.”

  “It might. The staff eats meatloaf. I don’t.”

  “Stop being an elitist. It doesn’t become you.” Does he realize what a snobby lout he sounds like? “Everybody enjoys a good homecooked meal, once-in-a-while. Even rich boys like you.”

  He gives me a hard stare. “Are you trying to play me? Tell me the truth. Because I can’t tell. You’re not fucking me, so you aren’t using your cunt as a tool. Yet you’re in a little dress with furry heels. You’ve cooked a blue-collar meal when I know for a fact the delicacies stocked in the freezer and refrigerator. For that matter, you cooked, when there are any number of restaurants at your disposal to deliver food. What fucking game are you up to? I want to know now. It’s been a long fucking day and I’m sick to death of women’s bullshit.”