Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “How could you have slept with her?”

  He shrugs. “What do you want me to say? I’m not proud of the affair.”

  “How long did it last?”

  “I’m not sure. About six weeks, I think.”

  He was too drugged up to know for sure. “Did you fuck her every day?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Who made the first move?”

  He gives me a blank look and then sighs. “I wish I had the answers you’re searching for. Maybe, you should meet with Dietrech. Let her fill in the blanks. It’s obvious you need the answers to have peace.”

  Do I? Will knowing the details heal me or ravage me more? “You claimed to have ruined her life and Stefanie’s. How could you blame yourself for Dietrech if you don’t remember what the fuck happened?”

  “She was hurt in the end, Kiln, so how could I not blame myself? You divorced her and refused to entertain thoughts of a reconciliation, despite how much she begged.”

  A sour taste rises in my mouth. I remember her tears, her cries of apology. Her vow that she’d spend the rest of her life making her betrayal up to me. It went on for months, until I simply stopped answering her.

  My mother asked me to give my marriage another go. But my father made me face Sloane every fucking day. Every attempt I made to find employment elsewhere, he blocked. Then, he dangled the ultimate carrot in front of me. Retribution for Stefanie’s murder. At that promise, I didn’t care how my father treated me.

  In my mind, three things were absolute. My hatred for Sloane. Knowing he’d pay for what he did to my sister. And blaming him for the demise of my marriage.

  “I didn’t want your sloppy seconds,” I tell him.

  “You’re being a stupid motherfucker, stuck on this shit,” Sloane growls, straightening in his seat.

  His words grate on my ass. “Switch positions with me, for a minute. Suppose you walked in and found me fucking Georgie?”

  He glares at me. “After I sliced your cock off and then gutted you, I’d listen to what she had to say.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You think? I love my wife. I’d be furious and hate what she did, but I’d never hate Georgie.”

  Fuck, don’t I know that. Even when he went to jail because of her, he said he hated her. In reality, he didn’t. He fell in love with her and nothing will ever change that.

  “Do you still love Dietrech?” he asks. “Is that why you’ve fucked up so terribly with Raine?”

  “It figures you know. She must’ve whined to Georgie about it.”

  Grinning, he folds his arms again. “First of all, the woman doesn’t whine. Secondly, I didn’t hear it from Raine or Georgie. The guys told me.” His gleaming eyes tell me he’s heard about our last conversation. “She got you good, didn’t she?” he asks, confirming my suspicions.

  “Fuck off.”

  We fall silent, but my mind is in overdrive. I don’t want to explore any of the alarms going off in my head. I want to remain mired in bitterness and resentment, after he made me feel so small in front of Raine. I want anything that’ll give credence to Sloane’s hit.

  I dredge up another thorn in my side. “Why the fuck haven’t you ever allowed me on the second floor?”

  “You can’t avoid the question about Dietrech forever,” he throws at me.

  “If I love her?” Raine asked me the same thing. If it seems like I still love Dietrech then both she and Sloane are reading me wrong.

  He nods. “Do you?”

  “No, I don’t. She broke my fucking heart. I opened myself up to her. She was the only person who I ever let see part of the real me.” Except when Raine and I shared our truce.

  I wait for some fucked-up joke from Sloane about the “real me”, but he stays silent.

  “I included Dietrech in everything,” I go on. I’ve said these words so often, I know them by heart. Now, they are safe. Not true. “Went out of my way to have her at my side. Not only did I give her money, but I gave her me. And me wasn’t good enough. She had to go to you.”

  Soft laughter rumbles from him. “Now, I’m beginning to see the problem. It isn’t that she cheated on you. It’s that she cheated on you with me. In your eyes, I was dirt not worthy of the bottom of your boots.”

  He speaks in the past tense. He thinks bygones are bygones.

  It took a lying motherfucker like Groveston to reveal the ugly layer that lives just beneath my surface. My feelings for Sloane are so complicated, borne initially out of jealousy, but still fueled by the manipulations of my parents.

  “Dad told me you’d killed Stefanie,” I remind him, low. “I thought you took her from me.”

  “Even before her death, you felt I came between you and her.”

  Earnestness fills his face, and I swallow.

  “I wanted…” My voice trails off. What had I wanted? When my father returned to my life, he was a motherfucker to the extreme. He always made me feel inferior and less than a man. Sometimes, less than human.

  Sloane was scrawny. Pampered. Weak, in my eyes. Just as my father exploited my lack of self-worth, I did the same to Sloane because of his size. I was eleven and he was ten when we met. For years, I’d watched my mother suffer. For years, he’d watched our father spoil his mother.

  “You wanted what I had from Dad,” Sloane finishes for me.

  This man, my brother, knows me. He took the time to learn about me in the months since we patched things up. Goddamnit. I have to choose, and fast. If Sloane dies, my mother will come to me for another impossible task to make her happy.

  “Dad plays mind games, Kiln.”

  I decide to reveal another truth to him. “My mother still believes you killed Stefanie.”

  “I can’t help that. I would’ve died in our sister’s place if I could have. Seeing Rand drown her destroyed me. I have never been the same and will never be the same. Stefanie was Alexia’s only daughter. She needs someone to blame. But you have to ease up on everyone and stop feeling sorry for yourself. It doesn’t become you.”

  His light tone pulls a smile from me, then his face hardens and I go on alert.

  “The reason I’ve never allowed you on the second floor is because I see that as my wife’s personal space. You terrorized her. Sucked her tit. Attempted to involve her in porn. But, in the end, when it counted, you saved her life. You saved my Georgie. For that, I can forgive you almost anything. Still, I can’t forget and don’t want you where she sleeps or around her things.”

  Reasonable, considering everything.

  “You’re so fucking whipped where she’s concerned.”

  “Guilty, and I love every fucking second of it.” Sloane has never been happier.

  I shove that thought aside. “One more thing.”

  Ever in command, he lifts a brow, giving me silent permission to speak.

  “You never officially hired me back. Why?”

  A megawatt grin curls his lips. It’s the reason I have to barrel through hordes of women to keep him safe. “You sucked my wife’s tit, motherfucker. I needed some form of permanent revenge.”

  “Beating my ass wasn’t good enough?”

  “No.” His look turns brutal. “Georgie is mine. Mine to love. Mine to touch. And mine to protect. Fuck with her and I’ll try my best to kill you. Beyond that, I’ll never fucking forget what you’ve done to her.”

  “In this case, you mean in general, huh? Meaning any motherfucker?”

  He nods.

  Despite the clarification about Dad’s money, Sloane still hasn’t revealed the source of all the money he’s supposedly getting. The memory of the checks and contracts in his office, cross my mind. Could he have meant that?

  Perhaps, but why did he release some of the staff and then bought Georgiana an island.

  Before I question him, a light knock comes on my door. “Come in,” I call.

  Raine peeks her head in and smiles at Sloane. The moment she looks in my direction, she glowers.

  “Hel
lo, Raine,” I offer with a smile.

  “Kiss my ass,” she snaps, dismissing me to address Sloane.

  She isn’t getting off that easily. “I want to apologize to you,” I start. “I was a jerk and an asshole.”

  Chewing on her lip, she stands there a moment, before walking fully into the room. She’s wearing a jean jumper and a cable knit sweater. Her hair is swept up in a ponytail, but she’s makeup free, in her bare feet, her own clothes, and breathtakingly beautiful. She plants her hands on her hips and scowls at me. “In case you didn’t understand my first directive, maybe, you’ll get this one. Fuck off.”

  “Isn’t my apology worth anything?” I ask coolly.

  “It would be worth a bundle if you meant it. The moment something doesn’t go right or you’re in a shitty mood, you’ll insult me again, so fuck you. I don’t believe you, jerk. You cannot tell anyone things are fine, then when something happens that you don’t like, you turn into a fucking brutal beast-asshole-motherfucker. Life doesn’t work that way. So, for the last time, fuck off.”

  At her screech, I swing my legs to the floor and stand, heading in her direction. She darts closer to Sloane. I temper the urge to yank her away.

  “Let me take you to dinner to apologize.”

  She seems at-ease. Happy. And as stubborn as ever. “No.”

  “Give me one more chance,” I coax. “You shouldn’t hold a grudge toward me.”

  She makes a face at me, and I hurry to her and grab her hand.

  “Please, Raine? “I’m begging you.”

  Upon my words, Sloane snickers.

  I don’t care. Now that I see Raine, smell her soft perfume, different from the one I stole from Georgiana’s closet, I want to make up my behavior to her.

  “Please. I’ll do anything.”

  “Fuck, where’s Adam, Quint, and Maitland when I need them,” Sloane chortles.

  She snatches her hand away, readying herself to leave. Maybe, Sloane knocked my brain out of whack. All I know is now that she’s here, I realize how much I’ve missed her.

  “I’ll get down on my knees if necessary.”

  Sloane guffaws and I glare at him. He only laughs harder.

  Raine purses her mouth. “You called me a horrible, almost unforgiveable name. I’m not your whipping girl. Besides, you sound like a broken fucking record.”

  “The Raine I’m used to would’ve called me a low-bellied asslicker.”

  I search her face and see her bemusement. Her face pinkens.

  “I wouldn’t have been calling you out of your name,” she grumbles.

  Sloane doubles over. I want to deck that laughing hyena ass. His laugh track serenades a serious moment in my life.

  Frowning, Raine gives Sloane a look of disapproval.

  “Sorry,” he says, wiping tears from his eyes. “Not,” he yells like a goddamn juvenile delinquent. He starts laughing all over again. “This shit is priceless.”

  Raine sniffs and rolls her eyes, then gives me her full attention. “I don’t know, Kiln. I want peace. Arguing with you is fine. What you called me isn’t. How do I know if you’re serious?”

  Sloane’s laughter is just dying down.

  “I’ve never begged you before,” I remind her.

  “Poetic justice, motherfucker,” Sloane says, howling with laughter again.

  From Raine, there’s nothing. No answer.

  “Please,” I say again. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  Indecision crosses her face. I don’t know what else to say, so I look to Sloane. The jackass has stopped laughing, but his lips are threatening to grin again. He can’t offer me any advice. He’s too busy enjoying himself at my expense.

  “Please, Raine,” I beg.

  “Fine,” she says tightly.

  “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  “Your begging is the only thing that changed my mind,” she retorts.

  “You’re a little monster.”

  She sniffs, then narrows her eyes at me. “If you lie to me or insult me or do any fucked-up bullshit that you know is wrong, there’ll be no more chances from me.”

  Montana comes to mind. Not only because I know he’s alive and Raine doesn’t, but because I need to tell him I’ve changed my mind about the hit on Sloane. He can keep the money I’ve already advanced him. The time I’ve spent with Sloane has shown me I’m the asshole, not him. As to my mother, it might be time to have her committed again.

  I grab Raine’s hand and bring it to my lips to kiss it. My heart pounds in my chest. “Give me a little slack, sweetheart. I’m not perfect. I’m bound to fuck up now and again. When that happens, you have to let me know how to get back in your good graces.”

  She snatches her hand away and swats mine down. “You’re going through all this trouble just to get into my pants again,” she guesses.

  Surprise widens my eyes. That thought hadn’t crossed my mind. “Fuck no. I can get any pussy I want to, doll.”

  Mistake! Mistake! Mistake! A code red alarm blares in my head, even before an angry flush suffuses Raine’s face.

  “Fuck, don’t take it like that,” I rush out. “I’m just saying—”

  “That he has no finesse,” Sloane interrupts.

  She rolls her eyes.

  “I’m going through all this trouble because I enjoyed our time together, during our truce,” I confess, the truth. “I want to continue to get to know you.”

  “There’s somethings I’d prefer not to know,” she says quietly.

  My former intentions to kill Sloane.

  “We all feel the same way, Raine,” Sloane says.

  Neither of us respond to him.

  I catch her gaze and hold it. “The thing you disagree with is no longer a factor. I’ve changed.”

  She looks at me closely, studying me to see if I’m believable. Approval and relief shines in her eyes and she hugs me.

  “I know you didn’t want to do it,” she whispers, taking my face between her hands and kissing me. “What are we working toward now? You and me, I mean.”

  “Fuck if I know. I still like the mistress idea.” At her dawning disappointment, I rub the back of my neck. “Fuck, Raine. What’s the difference between a mistress and a girlfriend?”

  “A mistress is kept. A girlfriend is wanted,” she says simply.

  Our gazes clash. Hers is inscrutable. I want to know what’s going on in her head. Yet, she’s spoken, and expects me to abide by her words. She’s telling me I can buy a woman, give her money and pretty things, and she’ll be at my beck and call. As long as I uphold a certain lifestyle for her, she’ll be there. A mistress is a business arrangement.

  A girlfriend, however…girlfriends are taken on dates. They’re confided in and introduced to family and friends, not just a select few. A girlfriend can lead to emotional entanglements and lasting commitments.

  “I didn’t come in here for this,” Raine says into the silence, then peeps around me to look at Sloane, not touching me again. “Sloane, Georgie sent me to tell you that Cash and his friends are here.”

  Alarm bells clang in my head. Cash and his friends? Shit, damn, and fuck.

  That can only mean one thing: Outlaw Caldwell has arrived.

  Chapter Thirty

  I march away from Kiln’s suite, pretending my encounter didn’t affect me. I haven’t seen him since the scene in the family room. I sigh. Despite my feelings for him, I really thought nothing would ever make me soften toward him again. That’s why I saw no problem with Georgie asking me to fetch Sloane, while she jumped up and down at her big brother’s arrival. I haven’t seen these friends of his, but whatever. I couldn’t give less of a fuck about them. They aren’t special. Living on the streets, I’ve seen and heard it all. I’ve dealt with Sean. Whatever they think they can do to Sean to get the location of my brother’s body, I’m sure he’ll set them straight and never give that information up.

  In retrospect, I realize that might be the reason Kiln couldn’t find Montana. Maybe, he tried…who am
I kidding? Kiln never searched for Montana.

  Kiln, however. Fucking Kiln….I’m softening in my old age. No, it isn’t that. It’s the orgasm he gave me. I want another one. I’ve played with my pussy, thinking of it, and I still can’t achieve that satisfaction.

  So what if I was very relieved to see he’d healed from the ass-whipping Sloane gave to him? So what if my heart did a little leap when he touched me? Fuck him. I admit to nothing.

  Nothing but my hot pussy needing some dick.

  I giggle, my mood lightening. As I think of Kiln, I shake my head. The man is an enigma.

  He begged me to forgive him. Begged me. I probably should’ve made him suffer a little more, but I don’t see the point in playing games. Besides, hearing that Kiln has abandoned his murderous plans relieves me to the depths of my soul. He’s an ass, but he isn’t a cold-blooded killer.

  I’m so proud of him. Maybe, this is a new beginning for us.

  All the kindness and respect he’d shown me went out the door with our last run-in. I don’t want to be on a see-saw, riding high when he’s nice and hanging on for dear life during his rages.

  I’ve never been in love. Never thought I’d fall in love. And, in spite of what I hinted at, I have no clue if I’m in love now. I think I am, though. I go to sleep with thoughts of him and wake up with him still on my mind.

  Because I didn’t expect to ever talk to him again, I forced myself to stay away from him after that first night when I crept into his room to check on him. One of the guys gave him something for pain, so after I saw to the kids, I took the baby monitors and went to Kiln’s suite.

  Unlike with Chambers, I had a choice on whether or not to be in Kiln’s presence. That was so…empowering.

  That night, I discovered several things. Chance wakes up in the middle of the night and cries for his mother. Bryn expects a cup of warm milk and an animal cookie around the same time. Sloane and Georgie are hands-on parents.

  And Kiln looks so peaceful asleep, like a sculpture in repose, every angle and long line of his body hard and chiseled.

  A shout travels down the hallway and I realize I’ve stopped walking, lost in my thoughts.