by Cora Kenborn
I wondered if I’d have a job tomorrow. I’d have to send Heath Vaughn a thank you card—wrapped in dog shit.
In one miserable night, five months went down the drain.
Five months, five years, five minutes, what was the difference? I’d moved my ass to the melting pot of the world for a new beginning. After three years of hell, the only way to put the past behind me was to literally put it behind me. I drove away from my North Carolina home, tears flowing, hoping for more.
With no family or future, I felt like an island screaming across the ocean for someone to save me. But how could anyone save me when I saw danger behind every act of kindness? The only reason I’d let Gage inside my self-imposed fortress was out of necessity. Inevitably, he’d witnessed one of my nightmares, and he’d deserved an explanation. I didn’t give him the entire story, only enough to appease him. No one knew the real truth. I’d taken extreme measures to keep that secret buried and untraceable.
Scowling, I peeled the label from Gage’s beer bottle. To say I’d disappointed myself was an understatement. With the way I handled things tonight, it was obvious nothing had changed.
“Pheebs, let’s go home, okay? You’re brooding, and if you have any more alcohol”—Gage forcibly took the bottle from my hand—“I’ll be holding your hair, which will seriously cock-block me.”
I leaned back in my chair and tilted my head. “Confident, aren’t we?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Bite your tongue, bitch. I’m on everyone’s ‘to-do’ list.”
“Not mine.” I grinned smugly.
“Backatcha, ice queen,” he toasted with a raise of my stolen beer bottle.
Sneering, I swiped the bottle out of his hands. Tomorrow, I’d have to answer for an unproduced article. Tonight, I wanted to forget I attempted life in this miserable cesspool. Downing the remaining few drops, I closed one eye and peered into the bottle, as if answers were hidden in the bottom.
Nope. Just glass.
“I need air,” I announced, pushing myself out of the chair.
Emotion and alcohol had me on edge. They also skewed my balance, propelling me sideways into Gage’s lap. Grasping my chin, he turned me to face him.
“You clearly have me confused with someone who doesn’t give a fuck.” His grip tightened. “Letting you get violated isn’t on my to-do list.”
“Aw, my hero!” I pressed my nose to his and pinched his cheeks.
He swatted my hand and lowered his voice in warning. “Phoebe…”
I sighed. “Don’t Phoebe me. Cool your heels, I’m just getting air.”
“Then I’ll come with.” He pushed off with his legs to raise us both of out of the chair.
“Damn it, Gage.” I placed both hands on his shoulders. “I love you, but I’m twenty-two. This place is crawling with large bouncers whose purpose in life is to squash predators like flies.”
Gage sighed in defeat. “Fine, enjoy your air. If you’re not back in fifteen minutes, I’m coming to find you.” He leveled a stare at me. “Watch your back—and your front.”
“Relax, I’ve got Notorious B.I.P., remember?” I blew him a kiss and patted my purse, reminding him of the stun gun that never left my presence.
“I have no idea how you managed to sneak that thing in this club, but Bitch Is Packing can’t operate when bitch is drunk, Pheebs,” he called out as I stumbled toward the open air patio, half listening to his warning.
Chapter Four
Julian
A five-alarm fire raged in my head after she walked down the steps to the lower level. With one look, I could see we’d be a book of matches and a barrel of gasoline. An explosion waited with a spark that had already been ignited with a few kisses. If I were actually with her, we’d go up in a blaze of glory. Neither one of us would survive.
But what a way to go.
“Jagger, man, coil your hose. Somebody’s gonna trip over it.”
“What?” I narrowed my eyes at Zane.
“Don’t give me that, you’re sporting enough wood to shelter a third-world country,” he said, his eyes cast downward.
I tipped the neck of my beer toward his crotch. “At least mine’s useful.”
His face twisted and he dramatically fell backward into Ty’s shoulder. “That hurts. Especially since I’m the only one who’s gotten pussy around here for months.”
“It hasn’t been months, asshole.” It just damn well felt like it. Since the psycho fan letters had started, I refused to bring anyone new into my screwed up world. If that meant I’d be alone the rest of my life, so be it.
Zane lifted an eyebrow at Vivian, who sat uncharacteristically quiet between us. “Whatever, man. You eye-fucked that piece of ass so hard, you made me feel like a dirty bastard. And, brother, I watch a lot of porn.”
“Fuck off, Z. She was hot and you know it.” My voice cracked, betraying my discomfort.
He grinned smugly. “Didn’t say she wasn’t. Doesn’t mean I panted at her like a bitch in heat.”
“Since when does wood mean I’m a bitch?” If we hadn’t been friends since high school, I’d dick kick him under the table.
“Keep tellin’ yourself that, Julia.” He snorted, amusing himself into a fit of laughter.
“You’re cut off,” Ty announced, grabbing the drink out of Zane’s hand as it sloshed over the rim onto Tanna’s pants.
“Shit, Ty!” Tanna wiped her pants with a napkin. “Thanks a lot, asshole. I look like I pissed myself.”
“You looked that way before,” Ty shot back, laughing.
Their ensuing argument faded into the background, and I flipped Zane off, ending any further conversation. My thoughts turned back to our party crasher. Zane tried embarrassing her, and she handled herself like a pro. No one seemed to rattle her.
Except me.
Trying to do the right thing didn’t mean I stopped being a guy. For a minute, I thought I’d lost what little touch I had left. Regardless of how low I may have sunk, a man had his pride. Even though she’d tried to hide it, I saw it. She stumbled a little. There was a nervous twitch in her smile.
She wanted me.
Unfortunately for both of us, one of my downfalls was wanting what I couldn’t have. If a girl acted like she didn’t want me when I knew she did, it just made me want her more. From what I could tell, this girl excelled at playing the same mind game.
Well, game on. She’d just met her match.
Her secret weapon seemed to have put a spell on me. Those damn blue eyes mesmerized me with some supernatural voodoo power. Girls in Northern Jersey didn’t have eyes like that. When I looked into them as she spoke, my body became a three-ring circus.
I’d also detected a Southern accent. She had a slight drawl I had to concentrate on to catch. Almost like she had practiced hard at hiding her roots.
“Since Julian isn’t interested in having a good time, maybe I can find Heath Vaughn.” Vivian pushed her hair out of her eyes and slipped her red nails between my thighs, again. I moved away from her and shot her a look, again.
Back from cleaning her pants, Tanna slid quietly into the empty seat across the table. She set down her drink and dug her fingers into her purple hair, tightening the band on her ponytail. “Seriously, Vivian? Give it a rest,” she said, tossing her a bored look.
Vivian glared across the table and smiled slowly. “Why don’t you take your soda and go play in your sandbox, darling? The grown-ups are talking.”
Focusing on her short fingernails, Tanna chipped at the black polish. “Cool, I’ll be sure to bring some sand back for your crotch. I’m sure it’ll make the crabs feel at home.”
Tanna’s detached, deadpanned delivery made the entire table lose it. Her voice sounded authoritative and well beyond her teenage years. It was the first time we’d honestly all laughed like that since we lost Lam.
“God, thank you, Tanna.” I covered her hand in appreciation while wiping tears of laughter from my eyes. Her eyes glazed over and casted downward abr
uptly as the corners of her mouth lifted in acknowledgment. She didn’t ask why I thanked her. She knew.
But if the ball of fury beside me didn’t simmer the fuck down, she’d wreck our Zen moment. It was time to address the blond elephant in the room.
“You’re right, Viv, I’m not interested. Go hose it down and quit it with the top shelf shit, or I’m cutting you off. Got it, baby?”
By the look on Vivian’s face, she had a stick of dynamite stuck up her ass ready to detonate. She could blow the rafters off the club for all I cared. It was time for my exit. I had rules, but my rules allowed for side play. My Southern rebel wanted to stay, but her pride hadn’t let her.
Pride could kiss my ass.
I took the stairs, following the lingering scent of coconut and intrigue.
***
She was in the blond guy’s lap again.
I thought he might be gay, what with the way he was eyeing those dudes at that table, but hell, what did I know? My track record of character judgment wasn’t exactly stellar. As much as he had his hands plastered all over her ass, he’d need surgical intervention to remove them.
Watching her stumble toward the patio, I waited for him to get up and follow her out like a boyfriend should’ve.
I would’ve.
Christ, what am I doing?
All I wanted was to get in this girl’s pants. I didn’t bargain for boyfriends, or bisexual lovers, or whatever she might be into. Still, it bothered me that he let his woman wander around alone, with a bar of swinging dicks waiting for—who the hell is that asshole?
I couldn’t see his face as he barreled past me, but I didn’t like the intention in his walk. He was stumbling, obviously drunk, his body coiled for a confrontation. Thoughts of her out there alone, after what had gone down earlier, hit me like a brick. I was moving before I realized it.
I was about to ruin that guy’s night.
“Hey, the party’s right here, baby,” a voice slurred behind me. “Where’s the fire?”
I cursed as a hand grabbed me within a couple feet of reaching the patio door. Turning, I took in the intoxicated form of a tall, overly tanned blond.
I began my canned apology. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go—”
“Oh my god, you’re him!” she squealed.
I tried to pry my arm out of her death grip and leave, but she was having no part of it and tightened her hold.
“It’s really you.” She turned her head and shouted over her shoulder. “Lisa, Gia, come here! You’re never gonna guess.” Turning, she screamed in my face. “They’re never gonna guess!”
“I disagree.” The scowl formed on my face before PR Julian could stop it.
She introduced herself for insurance settlement purposes involving my shattered ear drum. “So, I’m Sonata, you know, Sonata, like the car?” Sonata waved wildly to her friends, bruising my arm with her claws. “Girls, look who I ran into. It’s Julian fucking Bale, from Lords of Lyre. Can you believe it? He just talked to me!”
Um, no, bitch, you assaulted me.
Helena’s unwelcomed voice popped into my head, like an annoying angel sitting opposite the devil on my shoulder.
“Be gracious on your way up, Julian. You’ll see the same people on your way back down if you’re a dick.”
So I smiled, bent over, and took it like a true professional.
“Oh my god, I think I’m gonna faint!” screamed girlfriend number one.
“Are you two dating now, Sonata? What a hook for your show.” Girlfriend number two bounced so much I was positive a tit was going to escape and knock me out.
“No.” Sonata blushed. “Nothing like that, yet.”
Back it up, Hyundai…what do you mean, yet?
Common sense told me Hyundai and her merry band of hos were strippers—very drunk strippers. While I was the last person to judge someone by their profession, she was about two seconds away from attacking me and blaming it on the cheap tequila.
Backing a few steps away, I grabbed a couple of bar napkins and made a signal for a pen to the bartender. A few tearful goodbyes later, they all walked away with autographs and a begrudgingly approved selfie. The whole exchange took less than a couple of minutes, but it felt like hours. I had to be quick. It’d only be a matter of time before swarms of fans and paparazzi showed up.
Opening the door to the patio, I saw her standing by the brick ledge with her back to me, hair flowing like a Grecian princess. I moved, inexplicably drawn to her as if her mere presence had tethered me. Common sense took a backseat to carnality. I continued on course until I was knocked off it by a pair of open palms reaching toward something that didn’t belong to him.
Chapter Five
Phoebe
“This is bullshit,” I muttered, staring up at the cloudless sky.
Fresh air wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
A sensation of being watched sent a shiver up my spine, and I leaned forward, eyeing a super-sized bouncer who sat beside a five-foot high brick railing, staring everyone down. I’d hoped coming out here would clear the fog clouding my head. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.
Frustrated, I raked both palms down the center of my forehead. I didn’t have delusions of grandeur when I interviewed at Vinyl magazine, but I anticipated more than working for a shitty boss, praising the shitty careers of shitty entertainers. I couldn’t be good at a job I hated.
No one I knew had been through half the shit I had and come out the other side alive.
But Vinyl was owned by Ralston Media, the company which also housed MetroGroup Publishing. Taking this job meant being near people who could make things happen. It was a step forward in writing my story, my way. In taking control, I could hide behind a disclaimer that everything was a product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead was purely coincidental. It was total bullshit. The actual events were more intentional than a written confession.
A breeze whipped across my face as my life’s upheaval weighed heavily on my mind.
“It’s like fate just keeps putting us together, doesn’t it?”
I didn’t bother turning around. “Fate. Is that what we’re calling karma these days?”
“I think we got off on the wrong foot before,” he slurred.
“Oh? Was that before or after you tried using my hair as a leash?”
He chuckled and moved in closer. A lethal mix of gin and cheap cologne mixed with the breeze, making my stomach somersault. “I never got your name.”
“You’re right,” I said flatly as I stared straight ahead.
“I’m Heath.” His palm moved over my bare shoulder and slid down to my elbow.
Every muscle stiffened. I didn’t want to blow my second chance at the interview, but Heath Vaughn pushed every one of my trigger buttons simultaneously.
I can do this. I can do this.
I forced the sarcasm from my voice. “It’s nice to—”
“You’re right, it’ll be very nice.” His breath heated my skin, and he murmured something unintelligible while shuffling his feet between mine.
Nope. I can’t do this. I. Cannot. Do. This.
How in the hell would I spin this in my favor tomorrow?
“I’m sorry I botched the comeback assignment, sir. The legend in question tried to vagina ninja me against my will so I had to microwave his nuts off. It happens.”
There was no way to break Heath’s fingers and still get the interview. This was as hopeless as—did he just lick me? I glared at him as his tongue darted back into his smirking mouth. I’d been manhandled too much in my life to take anything else from him.
“You need to back the fuck up,” I warned. There was a long pause of silence, making me aware of the bouncer’s absence. I moved to turn toward the door, but before I could react, both of my arms were pulled back in a rough, strong hold above my elbows.
“Most women would kill to be you,” he hissed. “I shouldn’t bother, but I lik
e your smart mouth.”
My heart pounded as his hand moved inward. I tried not to show weakness, but my body betrayed me and trembled. With restrained arms, I had no hope of getting my stun gun out of my purse.
Where the hell was the goddamn bouncer?
Closing my eyes, I tried to breathe through the panic and remember my self-defense training. Memories assailed me, and as much as I squeezed my eyes shut to keep them in the past, the years melted into one moment.
I whispered the first rule to myself in hopes of forcing confidence. “Element One, Surprise Defense—kick to maim and use the other to attack.” I managed to get my foot on his thigh but my shoe slid off, and I kept having to regroup and refocus. Tears burned my eyes.
“Take your hands off her, now.”
Startled, both Heath and I turned, as my jaw hit the floor. The possibility that I was hallucinating rooted me.
Heath couldn’t care less. “Piss off, asshole. We’ve done this dance already.”
Familiar spiked hair swirled in the breeze, and fisted hands clenched in tightly controlled rage. “I said, take your fucking hands off her.”
Heath momentarily lost interest in groping me and turned his attention toward his challenger. “What’s it to you, cocksucker? You couldn’t close the deal before.” He paused, sliding his hand down to my hip. “Besides, this one’s a prick tease, anyway.”
The sex god exploded. He rushed forward, his clenched fist swinging in a side hook that connected with Heath’s face. The sound of bone hitting bone staggered me backward into the railing. Heath crashed onto a glass table, his hands flying to his face as blood spurted from in between his fingers.
“You broke my fucking nose!” he garbled through dripping hands.
Bloodied fists tightened. “Trust me, it’s an improvement.”
