Fighting Me (Shaft on Tour #5)

by Cat Mason

  “There are no strippers, Hunter.”

  When I look over at him, his face sags in defeat. “I had such high hopes for you, Big Man,” he says, slumping in his seat. “This is why I’m passing all my wisdom on to Mack so he can carry on the legacy.”

  “Stop it, Hunter,” Chase says with a laugh from behind us. “We are having joint bachelor and bachelorette parties and you’re going to love every minute.”

  Hunter chuckles, shrugging his shoulders as he looks at her in the rearview mirror, “We can have a private party,” he says waggling his brows at her. “I’m demanding that since you wouldn’t take my suggestion on the wedding date.”

  “Getting married in October on the beach?” she asks in disbelief. “Are you insane? It would be freezing.”

  “I’d keep you warm,” he argues. “Besides, is there any month better to get hitched than Cocktober?”

  Opting to keep us under the radar, I pull into the parking garage of the hotel instead of dropping them at the front entrance. Grabbing a spot as close to the elevator as possible, I shut off the engine and climb out to get a look around before anyone gets out.

  Luckily, it’s well past midnight and that works in my favor with crowd control. “Everybody out,” I say, tapping the window.

  “I still can’t get either of them,” Aiden says, climbing from the backseat.

  “I text Lacy to check on the kids right before you took the stage, Aiden,” Daisy says, brushing him off as they walk up to the elevator. “I’m sure they are just asleep, since the kids went down hours ago. You worry too much.”

  “No excuse for Mack,” I say, stepping into the elevator once I am sure everyone is inside. “He’s on call until I say otherwise. No exceptions.” Shoving the key for the penthouse into the lock, I wait as the elevator slowly climbs floors.

  The doors open, allowing me to step out onto the top floor of the hotel. Even though it is just us on this floor, I still scan the hallway. Three times. Stepping up to the door to the suite I share with everyone except Camaron, Aiden, and Mack, I slip the card key in and open the door right into hell. Mack has Lacy, the nanny, bent over the dining room table as he drives into her from behind. Their pants and moans echo off the walls making the girls gasp. “What the fuck is going on in here!” I roar, jolting them into action.

  Mack jumps from her, shoving himself into his jeans while Lacy is left to fumble for her dress on the floor at their feet. “I’m so sorry,” she stammers, attempting to cover herself while running from the room. The poor girl is clearly mortified while Mack acts like he didn’t just get caught playing hide the cock on the clock.

  Chaos explodes around me, everyone shouting and demanding answers, while Mack says nothing. “I’m going to check on Brannon,” Daisy says, hauling ass down the hall with Chase right behind her, no doubt going to check on Jasmine.

  Walking over to the table, I rip off my sunglasses and slam my hands down onto the wood, silencing everyone immediately. The only sound is my shades clattering to the floor at my feet. “Everyone, quiet!” I shout, hoping to restore order and get some sort of control over this clusterfuck of a situation. When my eyes meet Mack’s, his widen in shock. “Dominick, this isn’t gonna fuckin’ fly with me and you know it. You were supposed to be over here keeping your eye on things,” I growl, hoping to drive my point home on how serious this is. Communication between him and me is vital. It is what keeps everyone safe. It is what kept them alive when we nearly lost Daisy and Camaron to Tad’s attempt at revenge. “How can I trust you when push comes to shove if you can’t keep sight of what’s really important here?”

  Mack rakes a hand through his long red hair and sighs, “Loosen up, Big Man. The kids were in bed, we thought you’d be at least another hour. I just wanted to have a little fun.”

  “I’ll admit, I’d be the first to high five you over nailin’ that piece, man, but there’s a time and place. For fuck’s sake, what if Jazzie had woken up?” Hunter asks, grabbing a beer from the mini fridge. Twisting off the top, he takes a long pull from the bottle. “Seriously, if I haven’t managed to warp that kid, I sure as fuck don’t need you doing it for me.”

  Mack’s face hardens. “I’ve never done anything to put anyone at risk.” Turning to me, Mack glares daggers. “You want to fire me then have at it, Big Man. If you can do it with a clear conscience, knowing that I’ve risked my life every fuckin’ day for everyone in this suite, and not solely on one fuck up that I made in the safety of a locked penthouse, then I’ll pack up right now without a fight.”

  He sizes me up, indirectly calling me out on my mistakes. The silence speaks volumes. My fists ball at my sides and I have to remind myself that punching this kid will do nothing except escalate the situation. We all make mistakes— I have made enough to last me a lifetime— but the difference is he doesn’t learn from them.

  “No one is firing anyone,” Cam says, stepping between us. “We count on you, Mack. Tonight,” she says, looking at me, then back to Mack before blowing out a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. Look, everyone is amped up so why don’t we just let it go and talk about it in the morning?”

  “Lacy just quit,” Daisy says walking back into the room, frustration etching her face. Walking over she sits on the sofa, and Grayson moves to join her there. “Once we get back to Nashville she is having her things moved out of the house.”

  “Where the hell are we gonna find another nanny before we leave for the beach?” Hunter asks, shaking his head. “Mack has officially one-upped the cockblock.” Turning to Mack, Hunter’s face hardens. “No one is standing in the way of me getting my fill of sex on the beach and multiple screaming orgasms.”

  Daisy sighs, dreamily. “I know, Hunter, I can’t wait to lie on the beach with a drink in my hand.”

  Hunter shrugs, laughing at her. “Are those drinks?”

  “I’ll put a call in with the record label and see if Tuesday can help me out with finding a replacement,” Cam says, holding up her hand. “We’ve put a lot of planning into this, don’t worry, everything will go off without a hitch.”

  “Camaron’s right, everything will be fine. Let’s just all crash for the night,” I say, patting her on the shoulder. “Mack, you get Cam and Aiden across the hall, then no one leaves their suites, got me?” I ask, looking to everyone for their answers.

  The moment I get the answers I want, I bend down and grab my glasses. Slipping them back on, I hide behind the safety of them. When no one says anything further, I turn and make my way down the hallway to my room.

  It used to be that I only wore the damn things to reduce the glare from the stage lights and to look intimidating, but now, I find myself hiding behind the dark lenses more and more. If eyes are the windows to the soul, then I am bound and fuckin’ determined to keep the shades drawn on those bastards. No one else is getting in. If no one gets in, no one gets hurt.

  Especially. Not. Me.

  Closing the door behind me, I grab the bottle of whiskey from my bag. Twisting the cap, I down a mouthful of the amber liquid, letting the burn settle in my chest. Looking around the empty room, I walk around the bed and sag into the oversized chair by the window, tossing my sunglasses to the table beside me. No need to hide behind them in here. “Happy birthday, Big Man,” I mutter, laughing to myself. Looking around the empty room, my eyes land on my refection in the mirror hanging in front of the bed. “Smile, fucker, you’re livin’ the dream.”

  Forty years, and the only things I have to show for it all belong to everyone else.

  Just because that’s how it has to be, doesn’t mean that I have to like it.

  2

  Tubal Fixations and Cookie Faced Divas

  Rae

  Late. Just fucking perfect.

  Downing the last of my orange juice, I shove through the elevator doors of Ironsound Records, beyond late and ready to throw in the towel and it’s only Monday morning. You can’t start off a week like I have started off today and expect it to go well.


  First, I burned myself with my straightener while trying to tame my brown hair, then I broke my favorite sunglasses. Thanks to construction on the street I usually take to work, the road was closed. That alone has me running at least thirty minutes late. Add in that I had to stop and get breakfast to keep from getting sick and I’m lucky to have made it in here by lunch.

  I need a vacation.

  “There you are, Rae,” Tuesday says, standing outside the large room that houses the day care center that I work in every day.

  “I’m sorry, Tuesday. It won’t happen again,” I reply, adjusting the straps of my bag on my shoulder.

  “No worries,” she waves me off. “I need to speak with you about something. Will you come with me?”

  “Um, sure,” I mumble as she turns and starts up the hallway toward the offices and conference rooms. Tuesday’s heels click along the tile floor as we make our way through the building and I struggle to keep up with her long-legged stride. Being only five foot six doesn’t give me much to work with, especially in the leg department.

  Stepping into her office, she motions me inside. “We’ve got a situation, Rae, one that I think you may be able to help us with,” she begins. “I know you help run the day care and you do a wonderful job, but I’d like to offer you a position that is a little different.” Walking around the desk, she sits in the chair and begins flipping through a folder full of papers, before looking up at me again. “Sit, please.” She gestures to one of the chairs in front of me.

  “I don’t understand,” I start, sitting down in the chair as instructed, my words are cut off when she holds up her hand.

  “I’m offering you a job, well another job. A band under contract has need for a nanny,” she explains. “The former nanny quit suddenly over the weekend and they need her replaced quickly. Honestly, I immediately thought of you when I received the phone call.”

  “I see.”

  “There are two children. A five-year-old little girl named Jasmine and an eighteen-month-old boy named Brannon.” She reads from the paper, giving me details on their schedules and any issues that have been listed. My mind spins with the proposition laid out before me. “I really do think you’re a good fit for them based on your time here and it speeds things along with Ironsound vouching for you instead of having to go through endless interviews and a trial run with whomever the agency sends over.”

  “I’m a bit overwhelmed by this,” I say in shock.

  Leaning on her elbows, Tuesday steeples her fingers. “Listen, I know I’m throwing a lot at you all at once. In this business we learn to adapt and handle what is thrown at us in order to move onto the next important task. This group is a great bunch. Abby not only considers them one of her favorite finds to date, but they’re friends. Abby handles this company very seriously, as you know, so that isn’t said lightly, Rae. You will fit in well with them, they are very laid back. They take care of their own, so you’re basically there as a helping hand, not a twenty-four-seven caregiver. I encourage you to look over the contract that they are offering and meet them as well before you decide. They are actually in the conference room waiting on me right now.”

  So much for taking time to think this through.

  I sit and attempt to weigh the pros and cons of taking this position, but one thing I have to do is see what I am working with. It’s like test driving a car, you have to feel out the family dynamics before you can fully commit and even then it’s touch and go for a bit until you find your groove. Taking a deep breath, I blow it out and square my shoulders. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Standing to her feet, Tuesday leads the way out of her office, heading further up the hallway of offices and conference rooms separated by floor to ceiling windows before pulling open a heavy wooden door. “Camaron, Chase, Daisy, I’d like for you to meet Rae Sloan.”

  Stepping inside, I see the three ladies sitting at the table. A tall blonde stands and starts toward me, “Hello, Rae. I’m Camaron Chesterfield,” she says extending her hand and I shake it immediately. “I represent Shaft. This is Daisy Cole and Chase Hanlon,” she continues, gesturing to another blonde and a red head sitting at the table.

  “Very nice to meet you,” I reply as she releases my hand and gestures for me to sit.

  “I’m assuming that Tuesday has brought you up to speed, I’ll just elaborate.” Taking her seat again, Camaron slides a packet of paperwork across the table to me. Sitting down, I pull a piece of hard candy out of my purse and slip it into my mouth before setting my bag at my feet. “First things first, we’ll need you to sign this Non-Disclosure Agreement and then we can negotiate terms and give you the more detailed information.”

  Picking up the pen, I don’t bother reading the damn paper, I just sign it. Who the hell would I tell anyway?

  “Thank you,” Tuesday leans down and takes only the top paper. “I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll go ahead and send in Henry with the children. If you need anything else, please, just let me know.”

  “Thank you, Tuesday,” Daisy says as Tuesday leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

  “Now, the nitty gritty,” Camaron begins, lacing her fingers to crack her knuckles. “Our nanny quit as I’m sure Tuesday told you. Problem is, we leave the end of the week for a desperately needed vacation and a small, very private wedding for Chase and Hunter. Of course you won’t be required around the clock, but there will be times that we will need someone to help with the children. If you’re a good fit and would like to stay on after we return, that is something we are open to as well.”

  “Everything is lined out in the contract. Since we have already seen your references and background history thanks to Tuesday, the ball is in your court now,” Chase says, pointing to the paperwork before me. “If there’s anything else, questions or concerns, please feel free to ask.”

  The door swings open with a thud making me jump. “Hold it there, little one, you’ll spill those cookies everywhere.”

  “Mommy!” A little girl with brown pigtails and a bright pink tutu squeals, flying through the room before jumping into Chase’s lap. Chase’s eyes soften as she wraps her arms around her. “Big Man got me cookies from the machine!”

  “Did he now, Jazzie?” Chase asks, unable to hide her amusement. I can’t help smiling at the sweet little girl.

  “Yes he did,” a booming voice draws my attention. Turning in my seat, my eyes lock on him. A giant of a man with big, black sunglasses covering most of his face, carrying a little boy. He makes the entire room feel smaller just with his presence. Walking over, he hands the little boy to Daisy before ruffling his inky black hair, making him giggle. “No cookies for the Bran-man, can’t have his momma kicking my ass when he doesn’t nap later.”

  “I appreciate that, Henry,” Daisy says while the baby squirms in her lap.

  “That’s Jasmine, and this is Brannon,” Daisy says, smiling as she looks at the kids. The girls begin laying out the law of the land along with the almost normal daily routine. They explain to me how things usually flow on work days versus off days. I listen to how Hunter and Chase view parenting from Chase then learn that Daisy and Grayson have a similar approach, but don’t allow Brannon to have the sweets that clearly Jazzie enjoys.

  “If you ladies don’t need anything else, I’ll wait out in the hallway,” the big guy says causing my eyes to follow him. He’s got to be over seven foot tall. His shoulders are broad and the way the black t-shirt stretches across his muscles it looks like it will rip if he breathes too deeply. There is coarse looking salt and peppery stubble on his jaw, his black hair is cut short, but not quite military style. His body is defined in such a way that it should be illegal. He is sexy, but in an almost unapproachable way. He is built like a damn Grizzly bear and everything about him screams look, but don’t touch.

  “Thank you, Henry. We’re all set for now,” Camaron says with a smile, looking up at him.

  Without another word he turns, his gaze stopping on me briefly. His narrow ja
w ticks as he appears to be assessing me. His gaze burning into me even through the sunglasses he is wearing. It is extremely intimidating.

  It’s also hot as hell.

  The breath rushes out of my chest on a whoosh and I turn to the paperwork before me, flipping through the contract that, if I sign, according to the words in front of me, will send me to a private island for two weeks.

  A working vacation is still a vacation if it’s on an island, right?

  “This is all pretty cut and dry,” I admit when I come to the final paper where my signature is required.

  “It is,” Camaron agrees. “Any questions?”

  I shake my head before looking at Daisy and Brannon, then to Chase and Jazzie as I contemplate my answer. Jazzie’s brown eyes meet mine and she smiles at me. “What’s your name?” she asks curiously before shoving another cookie into her mouth from the pack.

  “I’m Rae,” I answer.

  “You’re pretty. We can play dress up.” Jazzie says, leaning her elbows on the table. Her eyes look me over carefully. “I do make-up and tattoos with markers that my Uncle Luke got me. Daddy gives me dollars to help him draw on Uncle Mack when he’s sleepin’, then Uncle Aiden video tapes it and puts it on the computer.”

  “Jasmine!” Chase gasps, biting back a laugh as her face turns almost as red as her hair. “That isn’t nice.”

  “It was funny,” Jazzie argues, crossing her arms over her chest. “Mack is a tubal fixation, Daddy said.”

  “Dear God,” Daisy giggles, snorting lightly. “You mean a YouTube sensation?”

  “Yup.” Jazzie pops the ‘p’. “That’s what I said.”

  “How about we build sand castles on the beach instead?” I ask Jazzie. Picking up the pen, I sign my name.

  Collecting her copies of the paperwork, Camaron slips them back into the folder before putting them into her bag, then hands me mine. “Welcome aboard, Rae. We will see you at the house later to get settled.”