Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  Sloane glares at Kiln and ignores me. “If I find out anything else is going on, I swear to you I’m beating you to fucking death.”

  “What the fuck else could be going on?” Kiln folds his arms, glances at me, and manages to smirk. “Unless you know something I don’t.”

  “Not a fucking thing, but you,” Sloane answers. “One small thing about Rand sets you off and all hell breaks loose. Instead of rationalizing what a low-down motherfucker that fuckhead is, you take shit out on me. I’ve forewarned you. Back the fuck off. I don’t want that fucking money. You take it or not. I really don’t give a fuck.”

  “You’re still the same paranoid asshole you always were,” Kiln jeers.

  “And you’re still the same self-pitying fuckhead you always were, Kiln,” Sloane claps back. “How the fuck is it my fault what that asshole did? I was a fucking child.”

  “Self-pitying?” Kiln repeats in indignation, his gaze traveling between Sloane and me. “Is it self-pitying that I lost my wife because of you?”

  “Fuck, yeah,” Georgie inserts. “That’s old news. It’s time you move past her.”

  Kiln leaves my side and goes to Georgie, shoving his finger in her face. “Stay the fuck out of this, Georgiana. It’s not your goddamn business.”

  Sloane rushes to Kiln, grabbing Georgie by the waist and setting her to the side before punching the fuck out of Kiln and knocking him unconscious. Both Georgie and I scream.

  The kids, who I missed as they slept in a play yard in the corner, wake up and immediately start to cry. I trip against a hard body. Turning, I come face-to-face with Maitland Carrington. Kiln grabbed my attention when I walked in. I saw no one else. Now, I stare at the band’s drummer, who smiles and nods to me before focusing on the drama.

  Adam and Quint restrain Sloane, leaving my brain to fumble with the realization that the entirety of Phoenix Rising’s band is here. They aren’t my concern, though.

  I rush to Kiln and drop beside him. “Kiln!” I yell.

  No answer.

  I caress his head, feeling the blood and sweat.

  The children are screaming but Georgie sees to them. I suppose I should help her, but Kiln needs me. I don’t want to leave his side.

  Into this chaos, a bruised, beaten, and disheveled Jaeger walks in. “Sloane!” he calls, looking as if he’d like to be anywhere else, but facing the wrath of Sloane.

  I realllllly don’t fucking blame him.

  “Calm down, please. Georgie make him understand that although Groveston lied about him signing, he told the truth about me and Kiln not getting a dime ever, if Sloane doesn’t accept the inheritance. He’ll dish it out to charity. Tell him!”

  “Oh my God, would you shut up about this fucking will,” she yells, rocking Chance harder than necessary.

  Jaeger rocks on his heels, looks away, then stares at the floor.

  “What the fuck aren’t you telling me?” Sloane demands.

  Georgie groans and the other members of Phoenix Rising sigh.

  Jaeger adjust his wrinkled collar and clears his throat. “There’s that small provision that Dad added.”

  Sloane narrows his eyes and Jaeger pales.

  Holding her daughter’s hand and allowing her son to rest his head on her shoulder, Georgie goes to her husband, using her body as a barrier to keep Sloane from rushing Jaeger.

  He heaves his shoulders. “If you died prematurely, after accepting the portion he wants you to have now, then we’d get the rest.”

  At the hesitant announcement, the room goes silent. Not a sound. Not a move. Until Bryn throws herself on the ground and cries.

  “Oh, shit,” Georgie breathes, bending to her daughter. “No wonder…Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s found a way to drive another wedge between you three.” She sets Chance on his feet and plops on the floor, seeming not to notice when Bryn crawls onto her lap.

  Sloane stares at Jaeger, then turns in a circle and scratches his jaw. “I hate that motherfucker so much.”

  I believe him. There’s such overwhelming violence in his voice, I think he’ll explode at any moment.

  He looks at a still-unconscious Kiln. “If I take it, then it seems as if I’m his chosen one. It doesn’t matter if I give it all away or not. He’s still fucked over the two of you. If I don’t take it, I’m a selfish motherfucker because I’m pissing away the money that belongs to you. I can’t fucking win. Rand has managed to outmaneuver me again.”

  Pain fills his eyes, removing the anger and hinting at the torture of this situation. It would devastate him to know Kiln fell for their father’s games and planned the worst retribution possible. I wish he was conscious to see his brother’s anguish.

  Sloane stares at Kiln, while everyone else awaits his next move. After a moment, he storms off.

  Georgie sets Bryn aside and hops to her feet. “Raine, see to the kids,” she calls, and takes off after him.

  As I come to, a soft hand rubs my brow. The touch is light and hesitant and is followed by the glide of a wet cloth.

  “You’re awake.” Raine lays her head on my shoulder. “I was so scared. You’ve been out for half an hour. I thought maybe you had a concussion.”

  “Told you his fucking head was too hard to break,” Quint says from somewhere behind Raine.

  Raine runs her fingertips along my brow again. Having her here to nurse me feels so damn good. However, humiliation thunders through me. Sloane beat my ass before Raine returned and after she got back, thereby embarrassing me in front of her. Feeling like a totally weak asshole, I lose myself in more resentment.

  “Sloane?” I slur.

  “He disappeared with Georgie,” Jaeger says. “It’s only me, Raine, and the rest of the guys.”

  I’m fucking seething and I have no one to take my displeasure out on at the moment.

  When I lift my head, I realize I’m on the chaise lounge. Everyone is staring at me, deepening my anger and mortification. My pride has taken a beating. I don’t have Sloane to confront, but there’s a thing or two I need to tell Raine.

  Besides, I don’t need the sweet her. I don’t want her pity. Before I know it, she’ll look at Sloane the same way Dietrech did.

  “You accepted a job from me,” I start, “therefore, you can’t suddenly quit and become Georgiana’s nanny.”

  “As I recall, I quit your job,” she says sweetly. “That left me free to work for whoever. But you’re injured. We can talk about this some other time.”

  “Fuck off,” I growl. “I just have a few scratches. Nothing to concern yourself over.”

  “Kiln, dude, Sloane beat you to a fucking pulp,” she reminds me. “We’re all concerned. You might have a concussion or—”

  “I’m strong enough to withstand Sloane’s pathetic blows without having my skull broken. He hits like a little girl. So don’t think he’s such a bad ass and I’m some weak bitch.”

  “I never—”

  I cut her off again. “You didn’t have to say it. It’s written all over your fucking face. You think Sloane is superior to me. Admit it.”

  She’d been sitting on the edge of the sofa, next to me. Now, she stands. She gives the other men a sheepish look. The guys stare at me as if I’ve lost my fucking mind.

  I probably have. This isn’t how my next meeting with Raine was supposed to go.

  “Kiln, don’t piss me off,” she says in a song-song voice, rocking on her heels. “Remember our truce?”

  “Fuck the truce!” I storm. She can’t pity me and see me as inferior to Sloane. I couldn’t take it. “You agreed to get to know me. Now, suddenly, you’re working for Sloane?”

  “Nooooo,” she says slowly, “I’m working for Georgie. And I agreed to be your mistress. If we can work out our differences, we can still get to know each other. Go out on dates.” Doubt creeps into her face. “Can’t we?”

  I’m no longer Kiln to her. I’m the asshole Sloane beat up. That’s why she’s treating me with such patience.

  Where’s her fire? Wh
y isn’t she telling me to fuck myself? Reminding me of the horrible asshole I am because of the awful name I called her?

  I glare at her, in pain, confused, angry…and afraid she sees me as no longer measuring up. “The only reason I agreed to get to know you,” I start through gritted teeth, “is because I want more pussy from you, Raine. You had no intention of sticking to our agreement. The moment you saw me, you wanted to find a way to get in with Sloane.”

  She flushes, glances at the other men, then peeps in the direction of a sleeping Bryn and Chance before rounding on me.

  “You fucking asshole! That’s not true. I asked for money to leave town. You’re the jackass who offered me the mistress position.”

  “You were never my mistress. How could you have been my mistress when you keep your cunt to yourself? Oh, that’s right. You wanted to have a go at respectability.”

  “How could you have agreed to my terms and still called me a mistress? Oh, that’s right. You wanted to have a reason to complain about women.”

  “Shut up.”

  “When you keep your big, fat trap closed, I’ll follow suit.”

  He clambers to his feet and sways a little. I debate on whether or not to shove him back on his ass.

  “If it wasn’t for me,” he continues, “you’d still be a gutter whore. Yet, you step over me to get to the next level and become a fucking nanny to Georgiana’s kids. That leaves you free to fuck the entire band, right?”

  Fuck. As angry as I was with Sloane for his abuse of Kiln, I understand. The asshole can drop fucking dead for all I care. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll pick up where he left off, and help get Kiln to the afterlife. “I understand Sloane perfectly now,” I inform, landing a punch to Kiln’s mouth that draws more blood and leaves my hand stinging. “Don’t fucking judge me by what the fuck you’d do,” I yell. “I had no intentions of fucking anyone else any time soon.”

  “That must be a first for you.”

  The words hurt me, but I refuse to show it. He’ll really runaway with his cruelty then. “I know what isn’t a first for you, dickbrain,” I say, all nice and sugary.

  He snorts, not concerned with his injuries. They must look worse than they actually are. “Yeah? What might that be?”

  “Sloane beating your fucking ass.”

  Rage twists his punch-fucked features, and he growls.

  I study my nails. “You really need to control your temper. It doesn’t become you. At all,” I add, to piss him off.

  He leans into me, and I…I flinch inside, knowing he can be as much of a brutal asshole as Chambers.

  Unlike that asshole, Kiln has a gentler, kinder side. He’s shown it to me. Perhaps, if someone takes the time to show him they’re on his side, it’ll make a difference.

  I lay my hand on his arm. “Kiln, let’s both take a breath and calm down. We’ve both been quite pissy to each other. Let’s back off for the time being.”

  “Don’t talk to me like I care about what the fuck you have to say.”

  He’s been hurt, I remind myself. Therefore, I draw in a deep breath, count to three, and pray my temper holds up. “I think you do. I care about what you have to say.”

  “Aww, how sweet, Raine Storm.” Kiln pulls an ugly face, made even more gruesome by the swelling. “Feed me another line. You don’t care about what I say. You can’t even tell me your real name.”

  “That is my real name, stupid.” What the fuck would he say if he knew my middle name? My mother had all kinds of jokes. She named my brother Montana River Storm and me…yeah, she had fucking jokes. Or a drugged up fucking brain.

  I believe she pulled the name Storm out of her ass. Her last name doesn’t match ours. In reality, I might be Smith or Jones or Williams. Or, she might not remember who the fuck I really am, she stayed so fucking wasted all the time.

  “Dude, what is your problem?” Maitland asks. “She’s just working as Georgie’s nanny. She’ll still be here, where you can get to know her.”

  At Kiln’s silence, I think he’ll calm down. Then, a mean look enters his eyes. Before he speaks, I know whatever he has to say will be brutal.

  “When do I ever get to know the cunts I fuck? Never.” He looks me up and down. “You know what? Get the fuck out of this house. I don’t want you here. I don’t want to have to look at your deceiving face.”

  Understanding is one thing. Stupidity another. “You’re a sad, pathetic asshole.” My voice is shaking. “Your hair trigger temper makes you look like a crazy man. I’m noticing you get shit all wrong and then huff and puff, and destroy everything in your path. Get your head out of your ass, motherfucker. Who the fuck cares what you think when you don’t give a fuck about anyone else? As to me leaving, ha. The jokes on you. I work for Georgie and, dickface, I get to sleep where you’re not allowed. The second floor.”

  Flipping him off, I stomp away and head through the door that leads to the security panel. Georgie told me the intercom was recently installed. I’m so thankful that all I have to do is call upstairs. Once I press the button, she buzzes me in, and I rush to my new room.

  And remember Chance and Bryn, still downstairs, asleep on the pallet in the play yard.

  However, I have to face Kiln again, so I can claim my charges. And? Fuck him. He’s the fucking asshole.

  Not wanting to disturb Georgie again or to alert her that I let my emotions get the best of me and I left her children, I creep down the hall and make my way back to the family room. Jaeger has an icepack on the bottom half of his face. Kiln is grimacing as Quint pours alcohol onto his open wounds.

  I hope that shit burns a fucking hole into his skin. We glare at each other. Then, I find a chair, pull it close to the play yard, find a magazine, and start to flip the pages.

  Whistling, I pretend Kiln doesn’t exist, even if every one of my senses is hyperaware of his nearness.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  A week after my run-in with Sloane, the pain is finally lessoning. I’ve been holed up in my suite, unable to do much of anything, except track down Montana, call my mother and Dietrech, and think.

  About Sloane. His revelations. His untimely death.

  Raine also crowds my headspace.

  The little bitch is completely ignoring me. It’s as if I don’t exist. Not once has she come to check on me. I’m the one who saved her life. I’m the one who got her off the street. Yet, she’s gone to Sloane’s team.

  Sloane. Sloane fucking Mason. He has Dad’s name and I don’t. The little snot-nosed motherfucker won, after all.

  Fuck him. I’ve given Montana the go-ahead. At some point in the next forty-eight hours, he’s a dead man.

  What the fuck does he have that I don’t? Soon, I’ll have life and he’ll be six feet under…

  I frown at the ceiling. Many times, I’ve asked myself where am I lacking. Then, the answer crystallizes in my mind.

  Unlike me, Sloane has fairness. He’s willing to trust. He has loyalty, and a belief in family. Amongst the guys and my family—Sloane, Jaeger, Abby, and Georgie—I’m seen as a raging asshole.

  My door opens and the man in question saunters in. Seeing me awake, he closes the door, leans against the wood, and folds his arms.

  “Are you ever fucking coming out into the open again?” he asks.

  I shrug. “How’s Raine?” I’m curious about her. Besides, her last parting shot replays in my head. After I’d been such a jerk to her, her words topped what I said.

  Sloane grins at me, then walks closer. “Have you come to your senses yet, asshole?”

  My brow lifts. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, we haven’t spent all these months repairing our relationship for me to throw it all away at Rand Mason’s whims.”

  Of course, he can afford to throw away millions. If I were in his place, I doubt I could’ve declined Dad. No matter what had happened in the past. So I have to know…“Is that the only reason you are so against the money?”

  “Fuck no. It’s one of the reasons. An
other one is I despise Rand. He tried to destroy me. He almost ruined our relationship. He destroyed your mother.”

  Each time Sloane brings up my mom, guilt twists my gut. She hates the ground he walks on, whereas he seems to still take her into consideration. “You’ve mentioned her several times. After all that she did…” My voice trails off.

  Scratching his jaw, Sloane sits in a chair across from the bed. “She broke in and brought people to murder my Georgie, but Alexia isn’t in her right mind, Kiln. We both know that. If I’d wanted her to be punished, I wouldn’t have kept the break-in quiet and allowed you to spirit her away to an institution.”

  “She hates you,” I confess. She wants him murdered. “I—”

  “You don’t have to explain her feelings to me. It isn’t my fault how our father treated me because of how he felt about my mother. It’s none of our fault. My mom is gone so Alexia sees me as the next best thing to focus her venom on. She’s your mother, though, and you’re my brother, and we take care of our own.”

  The sincerity in his voice shames me almost to tears, but I’m not a weak, sappy motherfucker.

  I lean my head back against the pillow, my thoughts racing a million miles a minute. Dietrech comes to mind. A vengeful demon resides inside of me, that insists on bringing up bullshit to justify the hit out on Sloane, when in actuality, there’s no justification.

  Except to help heal my mother.

  “When I was at my mother’s house recently, Dietrech stopped by.” He still doesn’t know I hired her as my mom’s caregiver.

  “No shit.”

  Hearing his surprise makes me raise my head. I look for…something to indicate he still wants her. But there’s nothing there, so I nod and continue my ruse. “Yeah. I was so fucking furious. I can’t believe she had the nerve to show her face to me.”

  Sloane rests his elbows on his knees, not saying anything.

  That’s not good enough for me. He’s apologized, but I never asked the one question that now burns my soul. Before, I didn’t want to know. Instead, I wanted to stew in my resentment, pretending all was well after we supposedly buried the hatchet.