The Bass

by Moira Callahan

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2015 Moira Callahan

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-584-2

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  Thank you to my lovely editor, Audrey. It was a pleasure to work with you on this book, and I hope we get another chance in the future to work together again.

  My readers, you wonderfully supportive people. These characters have worked hard to be heard, and I hope you enjoy the story they have to share with you.

  THE BASS

  Living Victorious, 2

  Moira Callahan

  Copyright © 2015

  Prologue

  July 14, 2015

  Los Angeles

  The crowd chanted “Victorious” when the lights went down to announce the show’s second half was about to begin. Out on the stage, Shade went straight to his spot. After plugging in his bass, Shade adjusted the strap over his shoulder, and let his fingers settle into place.

  A spotlight lit up an area well above Lance West’s head. The light slid down the back curtain until it highlighted their drummer who began the beat. The crowd let out a roaring cheer when another light hit their singer, Jeremy Shane. Jeremy flashed his famous smirk that sent women crazy, and slid his hand slowly down the mic stand.

  Shade could have sworn he heard half the crowd swoon in that moment. Shaking his head, he picked up the song to blend smoothly with Lance’s beat. Across the stage their rhythm and lead guitars joined in right on cue. Mark Devon, and Chase Vanguard brought the volume up to a swell before easing back to let their singer do his thing.

  When Jeremy began to sing, Shade fell into the zone. It was a place where he could hear everything around him, but it was slightly muffled. He became focused on what his fingers were doing on his bass strings and everything else was pushed aside. The catcalls, the randomly shouted words declaring love for a band member, and those singing along with Jeremy all fell into the white noise surrounding Shade.

  In that moment all that mattered was his bass, and what his fingers were doing. Closing his eyes, Shade let the drum’s beat move through him, guiding the speed at which he played.

  Song after song, he stayed in the zone. His body and mind were one with the bass as he gave everything he had, laying it all out before their fans feet. And when it was over, that last note hanging in the air when the lights went down, he let out an exhausted breath.

  Unplugging the bass, he headed for the wings as the crowd roared for more. They all knew better. Victorious never did an encore, it was their thing. In the beginning it was because they’d been relieved to have made it through an entire show that they’d had to rush to the dressing room to puke their guts out. After a while it became their signature. When they’d changed things up a couple years ago to have Lance sing their last set song, it had only made sense to leave the crowd wanting for more.

  He knew they would keep shouting for an encore for a time. With the lights going up in the venue, and the fans heading for the exits, there would be some diehard holdouts hoping that Victorious would break their routine. Wasn’t going to happen. While some bands thought they were insane not to go back for an encore, it hadn’t once changed their minds through the years.

  With a nod to a roadie, Shade passed off his bass, and took the towel and water in exchange. Wiping his face down, he cracked open the bottle to drain half the contents before he was to the backstage door where their security team waited.

  Nearest the door was Frederick Monvey, otherwise known as Goliath, their security team head man. The man was built like a mountain. A former professional MMA fighter, Goliath had gotten out when an injury had threatened his career. Shade liked having the guy around. Goliath was quiet, had a steady and calming influence, and could scare the piss out almost anyone with only a look. The guy also had a warped humor that most folks knew nothing about. One thing Shade had learned about the man was to never, ever play poker with him. Goliath had a fucking awesome poker face.

  Shade stopped, and finished off his water. He passed the empty bottle off to a different roadie, and wiped his face again with the towel. Draping the towel around his neck, he held onto the ends as he let his head fall back. The others were wiping down, and guzzling water as well. Which meant they wouldn’t be going into the hall yet.

  Those fans with the VIP passes would be out there waiting. They would get signatures, some would get photos, and they would all be able to say they’d seen, or touched at least one band member. It was the one part about being famous that Shade hated. He always felt like a big juicy steak being eyed up, and judged for his worth.

  He knew too many looked at them and saw only two things. Either a good lay, or a meal ticket. While he got it, Victorious was selectively reclusive in numerous ways, it was still depressing. Mildly creepy too if he thought about it for too long.

  Goliath lifted a hand to his ear, and then gave them a nod. “We’re good to go lads,” he announced. The man had a voice that sounded like rolling thunder to Shade’s ear.

  Dropping his towel into the hamper by the door that opened into the venue’s back hall, Shade followed the others out into the hallway that had been cordoned off for the meet and greets. Christine Franks, the band’s manager, preferred keeping all those with backstage passes from the actual backstage area. Her philosophy was a sound one, do the meet and greets in an area that allowed the band a way out if things went sideways. Not a frequent occurrence, but every now and again some fan would get overly insistent about meeting them up close and personal. Unfortunately, not all the venues they played in had ways to keep the band separate from the fans. They always made do with whatever hiccups came along. It was, after all, Christine’s job to see to those bumps, and she was extremely good at her job.

  There were about a hundred fans back there who went crazy as soon as they spotted Victorious. Camera flashes went off, and tickets and other items were thrust toward the band to be signed. Shade took a pen from one woman and scribbled his name on her VIP pass. Chase was over signing a woman’s breast, while Jeremy was bent to take a selfie with a couple teens.

  Security made sure all the fans were able to get up front to have something signed. Once a person was done, they were waved out from the queue to allow the others to step up. Twenty minutes later they were nearly through the group when Shade saw someone who couldn’t have possibly been there.

  Yet when he blinked, rubbed at his eyes, and looked again, she was still there. Standing toward the back, she was shaking her head at a security guy who was trying to wave her forward. Her expression was a little sad, but damned determined.

  His mind turned to the first time he’d seen her. He’d turned eight the day before, she was seven. She’d been sitting in the nurse’s office with a bloody napkin held to her equally bloody chin trying to stem the flow. Plucking at her shirt, she’d looked more upset about the shirt then her sweet face.

  Passing off the last item he’d signed, Shade moved straight for her. Behind him he heard Jeremy curse, and the security guys scrambling. He didn’t care what uproar he was causing, Shade only had one focus in that moment, and it was getting to her. He needed to know if she was real.

  Five feet from her, she became aware something was up.
Her head turned, and when her gaze clashed with his, her eyes went wide. Golden orbs that still haunted too many dreams he had. He saw her breath hitch in her throat when he stopped with barely an inch separating them.

  Slowly he lifted a hand to brush his fingertips to her cheek. He had to know she was real. The heat from her skin told him the truth. Releasing a shuddering breath, Shade let his hand fall to his side. “Cateline.”

  With a slow blink she wet her lips. “Hello, Shade,” she whispered. Her voice’s smoky quality sent a jolt through his body.

  Cateline Lyon was alive, well, and before him. He had questions for her. All he could think about was throwing her over his shoulder, and carrying her off to demand answers. Not exactly something he could do given the audience at his back.

  Reaching over, he snagged a pen from a security guy’s pocket. Goliath was right there, telling him they had to move, now. Lifting her hand into his, he scribbled his cell phone number to her palm. “I’m not losing you again, Cateline. You’d better damn well call,” he told her.

  It was Shade’s way to alert her about his intentions toward her. He knew Cateline understood by her sharp inhalation, and the stunned look on her face. He let Goliath pull him away from her. Shade needed time to think, to plan, and to figure out what the hell he was doing. He’d dropped the ball in her court. The Cat he’d known would accept the challenge for what it was. But he didn’t know the Cat in that hallway. He was taking a risk. A huge one. He only hoped it was worth it in the end.

  Chapter One

  September 17, 2015

  Los Angeles

  Cateline couldn’t seem to focus on her work. She knew why. Ever since the seeing the news last night with the entertainment spotlight showing Victorious returning from tour, she’d been a nervous wreck. Shade was back in town. Worse yet, she hadn’t called him.

  Not that she hadn’t wanted to, but every time she’d gone to start the call, her nerves had kicked up and she’d chickened out. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to him, she did. Desperately, if she was going to be honest with at least herself. She’d missed him over the years. Seeing him backstage at the concert had been a shock. He’d grown up, changed, and yet she still saw the boy he’d been in his eyes.

  When his father had taken the job in L.A. moving him and his son away from Phoenix, Cateline had been broken hearted. The wound had eventually scabbed over. But seeing him, having him standing right there with her and touching her had torn that wound open again. They’d lived totally different lives the last twenty years. Their paths led them away from one another. Yet they’d reconnected for that brief moment in time.

  She wanted more. She needed more than a moment. But how could she when the girl he’d known was lost in the past, and Cat didn’t always recognize who she was anymore?

  Giving her head a firm shake she attempted to focus on the paperwork she needed to finish getting ready for her boss’s afternoon meeting. It had to be perfect. This was a huge deal he was working on, and one typo on her part could sink the entire transaction.

  Her gaze drifted to the drawer where her purse, and cell phone sat. She had Shade’s cell number stored in the device, ready at a moment’s notice to call. “No,” she whispered to herself. If she was going to call him, it wouldn’t be while she was working.

  She’d fought hard to get this position, needing something that was all her own. While she didn’t need the money, she wanted the independence and the job security. Justin had tried to ruin her in more ways than one, but in the end had failed. Cat had started over, and was proud doing it all herself. She still had nightmares, and she still went to therapy, but she was in a much better place than she’d been five years before.

  Cateline didn’t want to admit it to Shade, though. He was a star, his band Victorious still on the upswing that had been predicted in their second year to fizzle. The doubters had been proven wrong. The band continued to gain fans, and to put out music that reached deep into everyone’s heart who listened. It might be rock, but it had many qualities reminiscent of jazz, and blues where it sucked her in, held her tight, and spit her out feeling drained and yet better for it. They had talent she couldn’t imagine possessing.

  To admit to Shade her life hadn’t been a fraction as successful scared her. Cat didn’t know why either. Shade didn’t judge, never had, and she knew he never would. He would listen, understand, and be there. Hell, the man wouldn’t ever show any pity. He was the type to focus on the good and the accomplishments over the bad.

  Which made her hesitation to call him all the more baffling. At first she hadn’t wanted to bother him because he was on the road with the tour. Then she’d felt awkward about calling him during their many stops. She didn’t know his schedule, and she hated the idea she might be waking him when he needed to sleep.

  The excuses kept piling up until she finally realized how much time had passed. The news feature had brought that reality home. She had to call him, and sooner rather than later. Tonight, no matter what excuses her brain made up, she would call Shade.

  First she had to get through her day. Without fucking up a five million dollar project while she was at it. Simon Ackerman the third didn’t like mistakes. She and her boss fought like cats and dogs most days, but they worked well together. They understood one another, and he knew quite a lot about her background. She didn’t take his shit, and he liked her all the better for that. Most people cowered when he roared. Cat got in his face and told him to calm the fuck down.

  They had a nearly weekly tradition where she’d quit, or he’d fire her. Either way she was always in at work the next day because they both knew no one else could put up with his shit. He’d gone through sixteen P.A.’s before she’d been hired for the spot. And that was in the first year she’d worked for the company before he’d randomly spotted her, and told her she was to be his new assistant.

  Cat had heard all the rumors, and gossip. She’d known Simon was a bear to work for. Day one she’d set out the ground rules which had shocked him. But he’d appreciated her honesty. It had all worked out in the end, and she liked working for Simon. Most days. Not today since she had other, more important, things to do.

  So, because the universe apparently had it out for her, the office phone rang to pull her into doing more work. Wasn’t that always the way?

  ****

  When Cateline finally made it through her front door, she was exhausted from the day. Too many people pulling her in all directions had kept her at the office longer than she’d planned. She dropped her purse and keys on the table by the door. Heading for her bedroom, she began to strip down. All she could think about doing was to grab a hot shower, climb into her pajamas, and have some wine.

  Exiting her bedroom twenty minutes later, she was still pulling the comb through her long black hair. A quick stop in the kitchen to throw some leftovers into the oven to warm, and that wine. Then she collected her phone, and took a seat on her sofa.

  Cat took a large gulp for courage as she stared at Shade’s number on her phone. Taking another sip, she pressed her finger to the screen, and put the phone to her ear to listen as it rang. She nearly chickened out on the third ring.

  A moment before the fourth ring, his breathless and perfect voice answered.

  Her courage left her in that moment, and she couldn’t get a word out.

  “Cateline?” he whispered. “Tell me this is you.”

  She winced her eyes closed, and took a deep, bracing breath. “It’s me, Shade.”

  “About damn time, woman. Took your sweet time in calling me, didn’t you?” he asked softly.

  Cat wasn’t sure how to answer that question, and instead she gave him the facts. “I’m not the same person you knew, Shade. I was scared you wouldn’t want…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “What? That I wouldn’t want to know you as you are now? That’s bullshit, and you know it, Cat.”

  She winced at the vehemence in his voice. He was right. “I was scared,”
she finally admitted.

  Silence came from his end for a moment that seemed like forever. “What about, kitten?”

  The old nickname sent a shiver down her spine. He’d been the only one she’d ever allowed to use it. Justin had tried, and she’d practically bitten his head off. Only one person had the right to use it.

  Forcing her mind back to the conversation, she rubbed at her forehead. “Myself mostly. I don’t know how else to explain it, Shade. When I told you I wasn’t the same person, I wasn’t kidding. A lot has happened. I’ve had to rebuild who I am. I don’t want to disappoint you.” There, she’d said it. The one person who had been more important than her own flesh and blood.

  “Cat,” he breathed her name out. A second later he muttered out a curse. “I need to see you, kitten. Come to the compound tomorrow, please.”

  Cateline didn’t have to think on it for long. She needed to see him, too. Preferably without too many people around, or the damn paparazzi. “I work tomorrow, but I can come by after. I won’t know for sure when until I’m leaving. My boss has meetings all day which means I’ll be needed at the office until the last minute.”

  “Call me when you’re leaving the office. I’ll leave word at the guard house you’re coming. And bring an overnight bag. I have a guest room you will be using tomorrow night.”

  She should have told him that was unnecessary, but she knew better. Cateline would be exhausted after another full day at the office if it was anything like today’s fiasco. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow night, Shade.”

  “Until then, kitten. Sleep well,” he said before hanging up.

  She didn’t know about that. Cat had the distinct feeling sleep would be hard to come by with his sexy rasping voice still echoing in her ear.