"Thanks, everyone!" she said, then turned to Jane. "Now, where's my dressing room? I need to freshen up."
"Our stage manager, Nicole Lawrence, will show you the way," Jane said, motioning to the young woman in black jeans and a red tank top beside her holding a clipboard. "But we need you to be on stage in five, okay? With your schedule limiting us to five days a week for rehearsals, we don't have much time. Steven Ali, our director, will be here any moment. He's just talking with our tech director up in the booth."
Janelle’s eyes narrowed. “Well, Atlantis assured me that my schedule was no problem,” she said in a miffed voice.
“As long as we get to opening night, we’re good,” Annie interjected.
“Fine.” Janelle flipped her long blond hair, then turned to Nicole. “Show me where to go.”
Evie watched as Janelle and her entourage left the stage. She had a feeling things weren't going to be as simple as she thought they would be.
***
Connor kept his back against the wall as he looked down at the stage. Although the Nina Haas Theater was still closed to the public, it was easy enough to sneak in. Security was a joke, and, since most the people inside were gathered on the stage, he remained undisturbed in his hiding spot in the farthest box on the right side of the theater.
After the wedding, he tried to stay away from Evie, especially after he held her in his arms. He had been too close, and he nearly gave into his primal urges to kiss her. Who knows what else he could have done on that secluded beach?
Fucking hell, his cock had never been so hard in his life. Sure, like Killian said, he wasn't some monk. For fuck's sake, he knew what it was like to be teenage boy full of hormones. But, as soon as he was old enough, it seemed he kept attracting the wrong kind of women. They only saw his size and his scar, and they boxed him into a certain type of guy. It was exciting the first couple of times, and, while he used those women as much as they used him, it got old after a while. All those women wanted one thing. Harder … more … spank me … rougher … do it until I bruise. He shook his head in disgust. Already, he'd been holding back his Lycan strength to stop from hurting them, and they wanted more pain? Wanted him to get rougher? Women were fucking weird, at least those who were attracted to him. He decided he'd had enough. He stayed away as much as he could and lost interest in sex.
Maybe that was the problem. These days, he might as well be a monk. Being near Evie and her delicious, sweet peaches scent was making him horny because it had been too long since he fucked a woman. Too bad both Killian and Quinn were settled down, and he didn't have any wingmen left. How the hell did people hook up these days? Damn, he felt ancient, and he was only thirty years old.
He pushed those thoughts away and turned his attention back to the stage. An hour had passed, and, still, nothing had happened. Everyone was standing around, waiting. Was this what being in the theater was like? How could Evie handle all the inaction?
Finally, that blonde anorexic-looking chick strode out onto the stage like she was some queen, moving among her lowly subjects, her head bobbing as she walked among them. "Thanks for waiting, everyone," she said in a high-pitched voice that made Connor's ears hurt. "I had to freshen up my makeup and check my stats. Oh-Em-Gee, our photo got one hundred thousand likes in the last hour!"
Connor wrinkled his brow. Was she even speaking English?
"Okay, well, now that we're all here, let's get started." A tall man dressed in track pants and a black shirt gathered everyone around him. "Janelle, nice of you to join us. I'm Steven. Your director,” he sneered.
“Oh, hi,” she greeted. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get started.”
“You heard our star.” Connor didn’t miss the sarcasm in Steven’s tone. “Let’s proceed. Janelle, you’ve had the script for two weeks now, so you should already know your lines.”
Janelle giggled. “Well, I’ve been super busy. And Jane and Annie said I’d have some help with the lines and stuff.”
Steven let out an exasperated sigh. “Right. Evie, please come forward.”
Evie emerged from the crowd and introduced herself to Janelle, holding out her hand. The blonde sized her up, her gaze going from the top of Evie’s head to her toes. Finally, after intense scrutiny, she took Evie’s hand.
“All right, let’s get started,” Steven called. “From the top.”
Connor continued to watch the rehearsal play out. He'd never been to any live show, so he wasn't sure what the hell was going on. Evie was feeding that Janelle girl her lines and showing her where to stand and move. Strange. He thought the director did that.
“Ugh, I know the line,” Janelle said to Evie in a dismissive tone. “You don’t have to keep following me like some puppy.”
“I’m just trying to help,” Evie muttered.
“Well, go and help somewhere else,” Janelle retorted. “Preferably somewhere far away.”
Connor's blood began to boil when he saw the expression on Evie's face falter. Who the fuck was this woman? And why was Evie letting this bitch walk all over her? She didn't take anyone's shit, not his, not even Quinn's. And yet—
His ears suddenly perked up as he heard a strange sound. It was … metal scraping against metal. And then footsteps overhead. A shadowy figure crossed the bridge hanging over the stage. What the fuck?
Connor’s instincts went into overdrive, screaming danger as the sound of bending metal grew louder, at least to his ears. Glancing above the stage, he saw one of the large overhead spotlights hanging precariously by its wires. And it was right above Evie.
Blood roared in his ears. There was no time to circle back and take the stairs, so he climbed on the railing and jumped down. The drop was maybe twenty or thirty feet, and his heavy boots landed with a loud thud. Hopefully, no one had seen him in the darkened theater.
He ran toward the stage, then leapt up and lunged at Evie. There was a loud snap as the wire broke under the heavy weight of the lights. He didn't even stop to watch it fall as he tackled her. They landed a few feet away from the pile of mangled metal and broken glass. He braced his palms on the floor to prevent his body from crushing her.
A loud shriek broke out, nearly deafening Connor. Bony elbows poked at his ribs, and he realized Janelle was underneath him. She must have stepped right in their path as Connor tackled Evie. Motherfucker.
"Get off meeeee!' Janelle screamed, pushing up at him. Her two bodyguards came rushing forward, and Connor quickly rose to his feet to get out of their way. He grabbed Evie by the waist and pulled her up. "Are you all right?"
Evie looked up at him, her face pallid and hair disheveled. Soft brown eyes blinked. “Connor? What are you doing here?”
Shit. What was he going to say?
“What’s going on here?” Andrew Macallister pushed his way to the front of the small crowd gathering around him. “Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?” He looked at Evie. “You know you can’t have boyfriends in the theater during rehearsal.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Evie denied, pulling away from Connor. “He’s … uh, he’s my manager.”
“Your manager?” Andrew asked. “You have a manager?”
“At my day job, I mean,” Evie explained. “I work for a security firm part time.”
“Creed Security,” Connor said. “You can look them, er, us up.”
Andrew frowned. “That’s good to know. But what the hell are you doing here? This is a closed rehearsal.”
"He was saving me!" Janelle shrieked. She pushed her two bodyguards out of the way. "Unlike these two idiots." She gave the men a dirty look and then sauntered to Connor. "Oh, my … you're so … big …"
Connor tensed, his skin crawling at the way Janelle’s eyes devoured him. Just like all those women.
“How did you get in here?” Andrew continued. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Well, your security’s a joke,” Connor said. “I saw someone tampering with the lights overhead.”
&nb
sp; Janelle let out a gasp. “Oh-Em-Gee. Someone was trying to hurt me?” Two fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “It must be one of my haters!” she cried. “Thank you so much … if it wasn’t for you …”
She launched herself into his arms, her octopus-like limbs wrapping around his torso. Connor went very still, not sure what to do and annoyed his last clean shirt was now getting wet with Janelle's tears. Beside him, Evie tensed and slowly began to back away from him.
Andrew cleared his throat. “Mr. …”
“Connor,” he provided.
“Mr. Connor—”
“Just Connor.”
Andrew cleared his throat. “Right. Anyway, I’m going to call your boss and get to the bottom of this. Stay here.”
Connor wanted to tell him to eat shit and die. No one could stop him if he wanted to leave. But he remained rooted to the spot, not just because of Janelle's strangely strong grip on his torso but because of the look Evie flashed him. Her face was red and drawn into a scowl, and she crossed her arms over her chest. She let out a puff of breath, and her eyes turned stormy as she stared at Janelle. Evie was obviously upset, and it made something in his middle ache. He didn't want to see her that way, and he couldn't leave until he knew she was okay.
***
“What the fuck did you do?" Sebastian bellowed as he stepped into the small meeting room where Connor had been waiting for almost two hours. Behind him, Killian and Aiden James followed. Both men did not look happy, either.
Connor kept his tough-faced exterior, though he flinched on the inside. No man could ever make him lose his composure, but Sebastian Creed was no ordinary man. He had a beast inside him, a fully-grown dragon that could breathe fire and lava and crush anything in its talons. And, right now, he could feel the dragon lurking at the surface.
As he threatened, Andrew MacAllister called Creed Security. The producer must have been someone important, as Creed himself came down to the theater, dragging Killian and Aiden James with him. The three of them spoke to MacAllister privately before they came to the room where the stage manager had asked Connor to wait.
“I’m sure Connor has a perfectly good explanation.” Killian gave him a warning look. “Right, Connor?”
He shrugged. "It was a good thing I was here or Evie would’ve been crushed under those lights." A unfamiliar lump in his throat grew, as he thought of what could have happened to her.
“I don’t give a shit what you do on your personal time,” Sebastian growled. “But telling them you were part of Creed Security? What the fuck was that about? You’re putting my company and reputation on the line.”
“Technically, Lone Wolf is under Creed Security.” Connor glanced briefly at Aiden, then turned his gaze back to Sebastian. “And you know why I had to tell them that.”
“I should have thrown you under the bus,” the dragon shifter said. “If you weren’t such an asset to the company …” He straightened his shoulders. “Well, seeing as you brought us into this mess, you’re going to get us out of it.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Ms. Edwards seems to be convinced someone is trying to hurt her,” Aiden said. “And the only way Mr. MacAllister was able to stop her from walking out of the production was to hire Creed to protect her.”
“Specifically, you,” Sebastian added. “She only wants you.”
“No fucking way. I don’t got time to play bodyguard to some skinny pop star.” And he didn’t like the way that woman treated Evie as though she were beneath her.
“And you think my company does?” Sebastian retorted. “I had to agree to a contract and a reduced fee in order for them to drop any lawsuits. You were trespassing here.”
“That’s fucking bullshit.”
Aiden stepped forward and put a hand on Connor’s shoulder but quickly withdrew it when Connor gave him a death glare. “Look, I know you don’t do any of the contract negotiations on whatever jobs you do, but I usually take care of these things. Entertainment lawyers are even scarier than the toughest criminal defense attorneys. They also have to deal with insurance companies. If you had been hurt and their insurance provider heard about it, they would have hiked up their premiums or refused to continue coverage. You could have derailed the entire show.”
Connor didn’t understand half the things coming out of Aiden’s mouth, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to be intimidated. “I don’t fucking care. There’s no way you can make me do anything. I’ll quit Lone Wolf if I have to.”
"Connor," Killian began. "You're right; we can't force you to do anything." Sebastian opened his mouth to protest, but Killian ignored him. "Aidan, you do a lot of Creed's contracts with private security. Surely, a vice president getting personally involved in the matter should make things up." He glanced at Connor from the corner of his eye. "And Evie will be there, too. I'm sure she'd appreciate Aiden's hands-on approach.”
Fucking Killian. “Fine,” Connor relented. “I’ll do it.”
"You'll both do it," Sebastian said. "You and Aiden will both be working here. Aidan will take lead on the security plan, and you’ll make sure Ms. Edwards is safe while she's on the premises."
Connor gritted his teeth. At least he wasn’t going to be following around that bitch like a puppy dog wherever she went. “Fine.” And he could keep an eye on Aiden James and make sure he didn’t creep on anyone, including Evie.
“Good. You’ll start tomorrow.”
Chapter Five
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The constant sound of water dripping from the ceiling would have driven any sane person crazy. But he was used to it. And to the dark, dank room. The thin mattress and the scratchy sheets. The windowless, white walls. And the metal door that would shriek to announce it being opened. How long had he been living in this room? No, it wasn’t his room. It was a cell meant to keep him and others like him locked up in The Facility. The walls may have looked like concrete, but they were reinforced with solid steel.
The boy sat on the bed, unmoving. He stared down at his hands, wrapped in clean, white bandages. But he knew they wouldn’t stay clean for very long.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he heard the footsteps outside the door. He didn’t normally have this reaction, even when they came for him. Usually, it was just his handler, Boyd, and he didn’t make him bristle like this. Someone else was out there.
A key turned in the giant padlock. The metal latch moved and the solid steel door screeched as it slid open. The boy looked up slowly. His handler, a short, squat, and balding Lycan dressed in a dirty jacket and stained jeans came in first. As he stepped aside, a chill blasted down the boy’s spine. The air in the small room grew thick with dominance as the hulking, red-haired man stepped in.
The boy was big for his age, one of the reasons he ended up here. But still, the red-haired man towered over him. He was nearly seven feet tall. He had wide linebacker shoulders and enormous arms, like thick tree trunks with corded veins bulging under the muscles. As he lumbered closer, his heavy boots stomped on the concrete and sent vibrations across the floor. Wild, red hair stuck out from his head and connected to a long, full beard that obscured most of his face. The man was scary enough, but the wolf inside him was terrifying. A big, dominant creature that the boy had only seen once and never wanted to encounter again. The man didn’t even bother to hide it, his eyes glowing like beacons that marked him as a Lycan.
“You ready for tonight, boy?” the red-haired man asked.
The boy said nothing as he looked at his bare feet.
“You answer me when I’m talking to you, boy.” A hand connected with the boy’s cheek and sent him sprawling to the floor. “Get up.”
He slowly stood up, rising to his full height, much taller than most boys his age. The muscles on his body had developed fast, and he easily outweighed any of the adult Lycans in The Facility. The doctor who patched them up after fights estimated he was probably sixteen years old, and he was going to keep grow
ing.
“Good.” The red-haired man sized him up. “Boy, you’ve been undefeated for the last couple of fights. That’s not so bad, except you’re making things boring around here. And our customers ain’t paying for boring.” He spat on the floor. “Now, just to make things a little more exciting, I’m gonna make a few changes. Boyd,” he said with a nod to the handler.
Boyd stepped forward, taking something wrapped in a towel from his jacket. Stubby, meaty fingers unwrapped it, and, even in the poorly-lit room, the boy knew what it was. The blade of the knife glinted, the edges were serrated like shark teeth.
“This’ll kick things up a notch. Both you and Clyde will have one of these while you fight. But that’s not all.” The red-haired man took a small bottle from his pocket. “That edge is gonna be laced with this. A special potion brewed by some powerful witches. Illegal and very potent. Slows down healing. Cost me an arm and a leg, but that bitch who sold it to me said it’ll work like a charm. Make sure you bleed nice an’ good before your cuts heal up.”
The boy gritted his teeth. Clyde was the biggest and meanest Lycan in The Facility. He’d only faced him once before, during his first few weeks there. They squared off in The Cage, and Clyde beat him to a pulp. But the boy was determined. After all, he’d been training in the facility since he was a young pup. He rose to the top of his group because of his size and skill but, most of all, because of his grit. Clyde was the only fighter who he had yet to defeat.
“Ready, boy? Good. Don’t forget to give them a show and, when Clyde’s down, you go ahead and let out that monster in you.”
Connor awoke with a jolt, his entire body going rigid before he shot up. He placed his palm over the right side of his face, and, for a split second, he swore he felt the pain from the scar like it just happened. Examining his hands, he saw the wetness there was only cold sweat and not blood. He made a grab for the digital watch under his pillow and let out a long breath when he checked the date. But it didn’t bring him any comfort.
All for Connor: The Lone Wolf Defenders Book 3 Page 6
