Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  She’s silent for a moment, then asks, “Do you know anything about babies?”

  “Babies?” I echo, confused.

  Her eyes twinkle. “Uh-huh.”

  “They have to be fed and changed and stuff.” I clear my throat. “Why?”

  “It just so happens I’m in need of a nanny. From the moment I met Kiln, he’s been a douche. You’ve had a very rough time in life, Raine, and just need a hand up. I’m going with instinct here. If you’re on my payroll, neither Kiln or Sloane can put you out. You’ll have your own money and your own sleeping quarters, situated between the nurseries.”

  I know exactly the room she’s speaking off. The nanny’s room with the dark red walls and cream décor. I’m almost too overwhelmed to speak, but manage to gasp out, “Seriously?”

  “Yep. Sloane’s angry right now, but he’ll come around, once I talk to him.”

  “I’m sure,” I say with confidence, hoping I’m not making a mistake by staying on. That means I’ll still see Kiln. Still be susceptible to his stupid apologies. This is too overwhelming right now, so I find another subject. “I have a question.”

  “Ask.”

  “How did your husband know I was wearing your dress. I could’ve owned the same one.”

  “That’s my dress, Raine.”

  “Yeah, so he said.”

  “One I designed,” she clarifies.

  “Oh,” I say weakly. I’ll bet Kiln knew this. Since I can’t escape thoughts of him, I must know. “What about Kiln?”

  She shrugs. “He’s trusted you with his story for a reason. I wouldn’t worry about him, either.” She holds out her hand. “Welcome to the Mason household.”

  ◆◆◆

  It’s like a dream, but I’m legally on the top floor of the Mason mansion. I’m not climbing up a column and hearing that godawful alarm.

  Despite Kiln asking me to enter upstairs a second time to straighten up, he really didn’t allow me much time. As a result, a huge mess was left behind in Georgie’s closet. The place where I broke into and unlawfully entered.

  Upon seeing it, she just shook her head, then guided us—me and her two kids out to our present location. My new room, the one situated between the pretty pink and blue rooms that I’d already guessed belong to her daughter and son. She’s chattering away, unaware of my distraction. I’m in my room, sitting in the small, overstuffed chair, taking in my surroundings. The bare, dark red walls, double-sized bed, pecan-colored wooden furniture, and shiny floor.

  It’s so hard for me to believe that, in a span of hours, I’ve gone from awaiting Kiln to pay me, to having my very own room. Even as a child, I didn’t have my own room. Montana and I were forced to share space. As the years went by, not only did I think that was gross that we were stuck together, but it was embarrassing and a total invasion of our privacy. From an early age, I learned about the baseness of boys. When he thought I was asleep, Montana jerked off.

  On the other hand, I’m sure he discovered more about periods than any boy ever wanted to.

  “Raine?”

  “Hmmm?” Realizing my new boss has called me, I snap out of my daydreams and hop to my feet, dusting off the back of my dress. Her clothes that I stole. The one she designed. I smile at her. “Sorry. I was lost in my thoughts.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “I’m sorry about taking your clothes.”

  “I understand why you did it,” she says kindly.

  A toddler squeals and Georgie Masons glances toward Bryn’s room, where both kids are. She pauses to peep through the open door. Apparently, her kids are fine because she refocuses on me, almost immediately.

  I shift positions, nervous. Stunned to be in this woman’s presence and having the meeting going better than I ever could’ve imagined. Her niceness might not continue, though. Her sweetness has thrown me off-kilter. It seems so genuine. But I’m afraid to believe it is, then discover otherwise.

  And, yet, my worry that she’ll disappoint me, too, isn’t all that’s bothering me. Besides the obviousness of Kiln’s intention, I want to measure up and meet Georgie Mason’s standards. This is my chance to earn a decent, honest living.

  “I was dreading the search for a new nanny,” she starts. “The last one we had started sleeping with Maitland. Of course, he threw her aside when the twins came back.”

  “Twins?”

  “Dancers,” she clarifies and continues talking. “Sloane and I have a bet going that his dick is going to fall off. I say soon. Sloane says to give it another year or so.” She rolls her eyes. “I told him to keep his dick in his pants and out of my staff. Does he listen? Of course not. I’ve lost two maids, one female PPO, and now Damita. Worse, MeMe is Zelda’s granddaughter.”

  “Who the fuck are these people? And what the living fuck is a PPO?” Oh, shit. I clap my hand over my mouth and bow my head, waiting for repercussions at my filthy language.

  She breaks out into peals of laughter, not in the least offended. “Maitland is the band’s drummer.”

  Holy shit. My hand falls away and I look up. “Maitland Carrington?” I squeak.

  “One and the same.”

  “I’m a total fan. I should’ve known immediately who you were talking about.”

  “It’s okay. I’m overwhelming you with all this information.”

  Bryn and Chance fly into the room, circle their mom, and then run out, making all sorts of happy noises. My heart melts and I stand, unable to stop myself from following them and watching their childish play.

  Kneeling, I hold out my arms. “Kids,” I call.

  Both pause. Bryn gazes at me from blue eyes, almost identical to Sloane’s. She has a full head of jet black hair and little bow-shaped lips. Chance’s eyes are more odd-colored, somewhere between his mother’s purple and his father’s blue. He, too, has dark hair.

  “I’m Raine,” I announce, while I still have their full attention.

  “No!” Chance yells, then starts a chant of noes.

  “That’s his favorite word,” Georgie tells me, stopping next to me.

  “Mommie!” Bryn calls and barrels to Georgie.

  Chance, though, looks between us, before choosing. He toddles to me and grins.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi, sweetheart,” I say softly.

  His grin deepens and he starts to talk. It would be so nice if I understood what he’s saying. Every now and then, I catch the words Bryn, no, mama, and da. Whatever story he’s relating has him quite animated. Finally, he stops and stares at me.

  “Um…” What the fuck am I suppose to say? I sure as shit don’t know, so I wing it. “That sounds like sooo much fun, buddy.”

  “No!”

  “He means yes,” a little voice tells me as she tugs on my shirt.

  Bryn is talking to me.

  Chance breaks away, scooting through the door that opens to my room.

  “Bye, Raine,” Bryn calls, following her little brother.

  “They are going to his room,” Georgie informs me as I stand.

  “Okay. I guess I’ll go there, too.”

  “They’ll be fine for now. This area is totally child proof. I wanted to finish answering your questions.”

  Interacting with the children has wiped away any questions I might have had.

  “I call our personal protection officers PPOs.”

  Now, I remember.

  “Zelda is our cook, who has also become a mother figure to me and always has been to Sloane. Our house staff is relatively small, but when we’re out or on the road, it grows exponentially, mainly because of our security teams.”

  She pauses, as if she’s expecting a response. I don’t know what to say. “You didn’t ask for my last name,” I blurt.

  “It’s Storm.” Her knowledge surprises me. “I got an earful from Jaeger.”

  “Most people don’t believe me.”

  “He might’ve had a background check done,” she confesses on a drawl, “and, maybe, encouraged me to offer you the posi
tion of nanny.”

  Of course! I’m such a do-do, believing Georgie Mason offered me a position out of the blue. Another thought pops up. “You knew my story before I told it to you?”

  “Absolutely not. I know where you’re from. Your birthdate. I know you don’t have a criminal history.”

  “Even though I’m a criminal,” I remind her, sharper than I intended.

  “Due to your circumstances,” she says kindly. “You had no other choice.”

  Not knowing what to say, I go silent.

  “Regarding your brother.”

  My jaw clenches. After the argument with Kiln over Montana, I don’t want to talk about him. Thinking of my brother brings untold pain to me. The way he must’ve been tortured before he was killed and dismembered. Instead of understanding that, Kiln berated him.

  “I’m going to call Cash,” Georgie breaks in, “my brother in the biker club. I’ll see if he’s free to ride down so we can, uh…” Her voice trails off and discomfort crosses her face.

  “Recover him,” I finish.

  “Yes.”

  Another thing Kiln was supposed to help me with. I get it, though. He’s too busy planning to murder his brother. Mine is insignificant to him. I was too busy trying to play nice with him to notice his broken promise. I’m such a fucking idiot.

  As much as Georgie’s trying to help, I don’t see how some out-of-town, small-time hood like a biker is going to infiltrate the underbelly of Denver to find Montana. But she looks so satisfied with herself for the suggestion. It touches me, and I go along with her plan.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  On impulse, she hugs me. Though I see it coming, I’m still shocked. I freeze and just stand there, making the moment awkward.

  Clearing her throat, she backs away. I want to tell her I didn’t return her hug because I’m not used to such kindness, but she speaks before I find the right words.

  “Raine,” she starts, grabbing my hand and squeezing. “Take a deep breath and, then, exhale. You’re safe now. Safe from the whims of Kiln’s moods. Safe from the streets. But I want you to relax and be yourself. We all have fucked up families. One day, I’ll tell you all about mine. Whatever you’ve done, whatever you’ve gone through, is okay. No one here will judge you.”

  “But I stole your clothes.”

  “Which was wrong. However, you came here nude.” She grins. “I looovvveee how you got one over on Kiln. He thinks he’s so smart.”

  I wince. If she only knew what Kiln was planning. Maybe, instead of telling Sloane, I should confess all to Georgie. Then…then, she’d tell her husband and he’d still kill Kiln.

  This is so complicated.

  “Kiln and I have had our share of problems, but he’s really a good guy at heart. Mistrustful of women, although he has reason to be.”

  “Dietrech,” I throw out.

  “Yep. She screwed him over really bad.”

  I couldn’t agree more. Now, she’s back in his life. He didn’t give two thoughts to hiring a woman he supposedly hates.

  “She should be ashamed of herself for what she did to Kiln and Sloane,” Georgie says. “Sloane wasn’t completely guilt-free. His roaming cock got him into heaps of shit. However, he was also an addict and he stayed high. She knew his weakness for pussy and for drugs, and supplied him with both. And she played upon the rivalry between the two. My husband suffered years of guilt, thinking he’d destroyed a happy marriage. Destroyed her. She was a schemer and I think she believed Sloane would take up with her permanently, if Kiln found out.”

  This new side allows me to put Kiln’s story in a better perspective. “I’ve told Kiln she was the married one. It was up to her to keep her legs closed.”

  “Exactly.” She gives me a level look. “Sloane and me want nothing but happiness for Kiln. I’m praying the big lug head sees what a treasure he has in you.”

  As her words sink in, an odd feeling settles into my chest, and I stand a little taller.

  “Let’s get the kids changed, then put Sloane on daddy duty. You and I are shopping.”

  “I have no money.”

  “It figures Kiln would leave you penniless. The jackass has to find someway to keep you here, right? Leaving you broke is the best way to do it.”

  “That’s exactly my argument.”

  “I’m well aware of the tactics of the Mason men, Raine. Sloane did it to me, although he knew I would’ve found a way to feed my drug habit. Without my husband, I might be dead,” she says breezily.

  “So some of the articles are true? Sloane’s arrest was a huge news story.”

  “There’s some truth to everything the press reports. Some are embellished. Some are played down.”

  “I suppose it’s hard explaining your life to all the nannies you hire.”

  “Not at all. They think what they think. I don’t explain myself to them. I’m telling you because Jaeger…well, he thinks Kiln likes you a little more than he’s admitting. We’re just trying to help him along. The man’s temper is his own worst enemy. And his fear of being hurt. He’ll muscle his way through crowds of people, take a bullet if he has to, and yet he’s afraid of relationships and attachments.”

  I stay silent, fascinated by her stories.

  “If you have your own job, he can’t use the fact that you’re just in it to take his money. He thinks most women want him for a fuck or for cash. That’s how they present themselves.”

  “Isn’t that how I presented myself, too?”

  “Yeah, but you also needed his help.”

  What’s the difference? Instead of asking, I allow Georgie to think what she wants to.

  “I can fill you in a little more while we’re out. Let me call my banker and see about money for you. We have to make a little list of what you need, starting with a car so you can take the kids to appointments if I can’t.”

  Holy motherfucker. I knew this was too good to be true. My heart sinks. “I-I can’t drive,” I push out.

  She blinks, as if she didn’t hear me right. I nod to confirm my statement. She studies me. Is she having second thoughts about hiring me because I can’t drive? My heart sinks. I can’t read her expression. At any moment, I expect her to tell me she’s changed her mind about hiring me.

  “No driving at all?”

  I shake my head, cringing.

  “Okay, then we need a car and driving lessons. Until you learn, I’ll have a car service available for you if the need arises. But I don’t have any appointments any time soon that’ll take me from my children.”

  “Do you ever go on the road with the band? If you do, must I learn to drive by then—?”

  “Sloane has a tour bus for us, so I go on the road all the time. The kids come, too. That means you’ll be with us.”

  My eyes widen at the news. Going on tour with Phoenix Rising? Traveling the country? I haven’t been anywhere other than the Greater Denver area since I was sixteen.

  “Really?” I breathe.

  “I’ll go into further detail while we’re out. Let’s go before the guys arrive. He called his band on the way home from the airport. Sloane will end up in the studio and, then, we’ll have to stay and watch the kids.”

  I’m silent. In awe. In shock.

  She heads to my new bedroom, and I follow behind her, still not quite believing my fortunes have changed so quickly.

  I look toward the ceiling, imagining a tattooed angel in flowing white robes. “Thank you, Montana. Even from heaven, you’re watching over me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  As I drive up the motor court and stop my Ferrari near the stone steps, I think about what I’m going to tell Raine. What I’ll say to get her to stay. I’ve been driving around for hours, feeling like a bully and a victim. The only way I can keep Raine is to withhold money.

  I hope.

  Money was supposedly my way of having power over her. Somehow, that’s been reversed, and she has power over me. She knows of my plans for Sloane.

 
How could I have been stupid enough to open my mouth?

  Maybe, I just needed to unburden myself. Or, verify, that she wouldn’t approve.

  Leaning against the headrest, I close my eyes. When I’m angry, I can see Sloane’s body, unmoving with blood pooling beneath his head.

  At the moment, I’m not angry. I’m weary, thinking of Raine and Sloane. Thinking of myself. Dietrech. My mother.

  My father.

  It finally hits me that whatever hatred I felt toward Dietrech is gone. I feel nothing for her. She’s my mother’s caretaker. That’s it. Yes, I loved her once, but long before she slept with Sloane, our relationship lacked something. I’ve never been able to understand what. Emotional support? True intimacy?

  I gave of myself what I could. I always thought it was my all. In actuality, it was things. Yet, even when we were together, I held something back from her. I didn’t trust that she could love the real me. That I was worthy to be loved.

  Dietrech must’ve felt the barrier and sought out another man. It just so happened it was the one I hated the most.

  I tap my keys on the steering wheel. I don’t want to explore how I currently feel about Sloane. I might not like what I discover. For months, I’ve pretended. Smiled in his face. Took care of his children. His wife.

  I’m so fucking angry with him, though. The idea that his death is what my mother needs to heal is laughable.

  I want vengeance. Period. Any way I can soothe my humiliation. Seducing his wife didn’t work. She refused me. I couldn’t tear them apart. Despite my best efforts, Sloane found peace. Happiness. Contentment. A woman to love him, in spite of…whatever.

  Does he deserve to die? I’m not sure. In my head, for his crimes against me, yes. However, he’s tried so hard to make up his indiscretions. He thinks everything is settled between us. I have so many unanswered questions, though. Mainly, dealing with Dietrech.