by Brooklyn Ann
Klement arched a brow. “How do you know?”
Kat glared at him. “I’ve had a long enough working relationship with the guy to know he’s not a psycho. Besides, it makes zero sense for him to do anything that would cost me money. Then I wouldn’t be able to pay him for his work.”
“Fair enough.” Amusement tinged Klement’s voice, as if he found her defense of her IT Guy to be funny. “But what if he told someone else?”
“He wouldn’t,” Kat insisted. “He’s very big on confidentiality.”
“You seem to trust the guy a lot.”
Again, Klement sounded amused, and Kat put her hands on her hips. “I do. It’s why I’ve stayed working with him since our site was founded. That reminds me, I need to call him today to run an update.”
Klement’s features sobered, and he got back to his main point. “And you’re sure no one else knows? About you playing for us.”
“Completely sure. You told me to keep it quiet for now. I kept my word.”
Something in Klement’s eyes gave her pause. “What? Do you think someone found out and is upset about me playing with you guys?”
Klement nodded and blew a strand of hair from his face. “It’s a theory. Cliff’s been getting a bit of harassment out of left field too, so I was wondering if they’re related, but nothing’s happened to his car yet. Have you given any more thought as to possible culprits?”
Kat blew out a breath. “I still got nothing. I mean, I had a bad breakup six months ago, but like I said to the cops, he lives in Spokane. And I haven’t heard from the asshole in a long time. And all he did was send me a bunch of angry texts. Those petered out awhile ago.” Her fists clenched in helpless frustration. “I wish I had some other clue. I mean, who would do this? And what will they do next?”
To her humiliation, she started shaking again. Klement placed his hands on her shoulders and bent down to face her. “Don’t worry, Kat. I won’t let anything else happen to you. And I will find out who did this.”
Chapter Twelve
Richard grinned when he saw Cliff enter the bar and give him a pleased wave. He’d hoped the guy would show up again.
“Where are your bandmates?” he asked as the singer approached his table. He didn’t want to risk Kat coming in and recognizing him.
“They’re back at the house working on a new song. It’ll be in honor of Lefty.” Cliff winked. “Which means I’m free to enjoy the weekend. That’s why I drove myself here. But they’ll be in soon.”
Richard hid his mirth behind a sip of his drink. The great Cliff Tracey was just a hired performer? He wondered what Kat thought of that.
“You mean, you don’t write the music?”
“Not the basic tracks. I perfect them. Once the lyrics are written, I decide how they’re sung and then the guitars and bass are adjusted to fit.” He laughed and beckoned a cocktail waitress over. “So, in the end, I get the credit and the chicks.”
Richard smirked and admired the waitress’s tits. “Not a bad arrangement. Still, doesn’t it bother you to not have creative control?” In every band he was in, it was his way or the highway. Kat hadn’t seemed to get that, so she hadn’t lasted.
“Nah, Klement knows what he’s doing for instrumental appeal. I know what I’m doing for vocal and visual appeal. It works.” Cliff ordered a drink and gave the waitress an autograph and a huge tip. “Besides, if I come up with an awesome riff, Klement always finds the best place to incorporate it.”
Richard still didn’t get that, but whatever. He was here to get revenge on Kat and use her fuck-buddy to do it. For that he needed information.
“I hope this isn’t a rude question, but have you guys found a new guitarist? I mean, Lefty was one of my idols, but it would be a shame if Bleeding Vengeance didn’t continue.”
“Well, we hired one for the studio, and we’re going to try her out for Thrashfest.”
Richard pretended to be surprised. “You hired a chick?”
Cliff held up his hands, looking defensive. “She’s one hell of a guitarist. She nailed Lefty’s riffs better than our other candidates.”
Richard dropped his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Is she hot?”
“Oh, yeah.” Cliff waggled his eyebrows. “I’ll have her in the sack in no time.”
Richard blinked in surprise. So, Cliff wasn’t fucking Kat yet? Relief mixed with an odd feeling of irritation that he didn’t have that sin to lay at her door. Not yet, anyway. But was she just trying to fool Cliff into thinking she was a good girl? She’d let Richard fuck her the night they met, just like the slut she was. He almost pitied the lead singer of Bleeding Vengeance.
He took a big swig of his drink. “How do you think she’ll handle onstage?”
Cliff shrugged. “Okay, I guess. My only worry is that she has some kind of anxiety disorder, so hopefully she doesn’t have a freak-out in the middle of the set.”
Oh yes, her so-called PTSD. Richard resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d always suspected it was bullshit. Something she did for attention. He remembered a time when they were supposed to go to a party at a friend’s house. She’d started shaking like an epileptic and totally ruined his night.
Cliff shrugged. “I guess we’ll see come showtime.”
“What do the fans think of her replacing Lefty?” Richard asked, this time with genuine curiosity.
Cliff made a face. “Actually, we haven’t decided if she’ll be permanent or not, so right now we’re keeping it under wraps.” He stopped suddenly, looking nervous. “Fuck, I wasn’t even supposed to tell you.”
“I’ll keep quiet, I swear.”
Until it suits me not to.
“Thanks, man,” Cliff said. “Anyway, we’re not going to make any official announcements until after Thrashfest. Klement thought it would be best to just have her up there with no fanfare and let her performance speak for itself.”
Doubt laced the singer’s voice. So, he didn’t think Kat would be up to the job either? Richard stroked his lower lip and fought back a smile. Maybe he didn’t need to do anything to ruin things for her. Maybe she’d do it all herself.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Cliff reached into a pocket and pulled out a blue triangle sticker. “Here’s a backstage pass if you can make it to the show. Maybe we can jam afterward.”
Richard grinned as he looked at the Bleeding Vengeance logo on the pass. “Wow, thanks man!”
This would make his vengeance so much easier.
***
Klement and Kat followed Roderick into The Hellion, looking around for Cliff. He spotted his friend at a table with another man with long curly brown hair, and from this distance the two looked like they could be brothers. But Cliff’s companion suddenly rose from the table and headed off, melting into the crowd.
Klement glanced to the side to make sure Kat was still with him. She had fallen back a few steps to watch the house band with Roderick. With her sultry beauty and the purple velvet dress she was wearing, it was impossible not to stare. Guys everywhere were already ogling her.
His jaw clenched as he tapped her on the shoulder. “Come on, I found Cliff.”
“Okay.”
Some of the club patrons gave Klement jealous looks to see Kat by his side. Cliff just gave them a lopsided smile as they joined him.
“Hey, I wanted to introduce my friend Rick, but he had to take off.”
Klement shook his head as he saw that the singer was already drunk. Things were going according to plan. “That’s too bad. But, give me your car keys. I’m not going to let you drive wasted. You’re riding home with us.”
Cliff blinked myopically. “Now?”
“No, we’re going to hang out awhile,” Klement reassured him. “Don’t worry, I’m buying another round.”
Cliff frowned. “But what if someone screws with my car like Kat’s?”
“I’m going to load it up with cameras before we leave.” That way, he might even be able to catch the bastard. All according to plan.<
br />
“Aha!” Cliff raised his finger. “Sneaky. But still, I don’t want anything happening to it.”
“Dude, it’s a rental. It’s insured.”
Roderick joined them, and Klement ordered a round of drinks, smiling as Kat chose sangria. Cliff laughed, too, when the bartender handed Kat the big glass full of blood-red liquid and chunks of fruit.
“That is the girliest drink I’ve ever seen. Damn thing even has an umbrella.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Hey, don’t knock it ’til you try it.”
“Fine.” He seized her drink and took a sip. His eyes widened. “Hey, this is damn good!”
Roderick just took his ale, dug quarters out of his pockets and made a beeline for the pool tables.
“Do they have a dartboard?” Kat asked. Klem saw her eyes gleam with a sudden impish glee as Cliff nodded.
“It’s around the corner from the pool tables. Just ask the bartender for some darts.”
She laughed and pulled a slim box from her purse. “Oh, hell no. I don’t use bar darts. I have my own. Want to play?”
The singer shook his head, clearly seeing her predatory eagerness. “Not if you’re a dart shark.”
Her upper lip curled in an adorably teasing smirk. “Wuss.”
“I’ll play with you,” Klement offered. Then he bit his tongue. That hadn’t come out right. He did want to play with her, but darts were the last thing on his mind.
“Okay!”
She jumped a little, making her skirt flirt with the tops of her thighs. Klement wasn’t the only one to notice, either. He clenched his teeth and followed her over to the dartboard, carrying their drinks.
Kat won most of the games, and as much as Klement would have liked to blame it on his distraction with how delicious she looked, he knew it was really because she was just that good. He had a board in his garage. It seemed he needed to move the crap away from the wall and get back into practice once they finished work on her car.
He smiled suddenly at a memory of the competent way in which she’d removed the fuel lines. It was rare to know a woman who knew how to work on cars. Hell, it was becoming rare with guys too. And her story of how she’d come by her knowledge was delightful. It had been another wonderful afternoon. The only awkward part was when she’d tried to call her IT Guy as they were leaving the garage. Thank God he’d left his phone in the office or his pocket would have been ringing, since those call-forwarded to his cell.
So. He would have to come up with some excuse to avoid her making tech-support calls with him around or come clean. But how the hell was he going to even bring up the subject? And what would she do if he told her the truth? What if she thought he’d been stalking her all this time or something? What if she left the band?
Weirdly, he didn’t want to think of Bleeding Vengeance without her. And when with a radiant grin she passed him the darts for his turn, part of him knew he’d miss her smile even more than her playing.
After their tenth game and her fourth sangria, which some other dude had bought for her, Kat started missing her throws and tottering a bit on her chunky high heels. Klement was about to suggest that it was time to take off, but she beat him to it and packed her darts in her case.
“I think I’m done for the night. Is it okay if we go?”
“Yeah. Let’s get the others.” Klement was anxious to get home as well. He was suddenly eager to do more work on the footage of the car belonging to the asshole who’d delivered that dead cat.
They found Roderick at the bar counting the money he’d won playing pool, and Cliff sat beside him, staring at the TV with glazed eyes while a blonde chick chattered at him. Both were glad to head out.
In the parking lot, Klement took a moment to install motion-sensing cameras in Cliff’s rental Lexus SUV. He gnashed his teeth in annoyance when the singer claimed shotgun and bounded into his Suburban’s front passenger seat. He’d enjoyed having Kat beside him on the way here. Furthermore, he’d have to fight to keep his eyes on the road and stop constantly glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure Roderick was behaving himself.
Despite the distractions, he got them home in one piece. Cliff and Rod raided the kitchen for snacks before taking off to the theater room to play video games on the big screen. Normally he’d join them, but with Kat’s nearness driving him crazy, shooting virtual bad guys was the last thing on his mind.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked her as she kicked off her shoes and moaned with relief.
“Yeah, though I’m a little tipsy.” She gave him a sideways smile. “But I’m in much better shape than last night. Which reminds me, I wanted to ask you. When did people start making butter from THC? The last time I encountered ‘special’ baked goods, it was brownies that were obvious with all the greenery baked right in.”
Klement couldn’t help laughing. He wouldn’t have thought she was that behind the times. “Technology is a wonder. Honestly, I think the practice came from back when medical marijuana laws passed. Not all patients like to smoke it, and they certainly don’t want to chew on leaves or stems. Not the ones I supply, anyway.”
“Oh yeah. I heard that you grow for dispensaries.” Kat’s dark eyes glittered with curiosity. “Can I see them?”
“Okay. I need to check on my girls anyway.”
Kat giggled. “Kinley told me that, when she and Viciӧus were coming up to your place, she heard everyone talking about your girls and thought you were running a brothel or something.”
He joined in her laughter. “Quinn told me about that.”
He led her to the door of his grow room and tapped in the code on the security panel. When he opened the door, there was a roar and the bright, thousand-watt lights made them both squint. Then the pungent smell of his crop overwhelmed his senses.
“Wow,” Kat shouted over the roar of the ventilation system. “It looks like a jungle in here.”
Klement chuckled as he watched her gape at his five-foot-high plants that were only weeks away from harvesting. “I suppose it does.”
She wandered inside, crouching down to see the labels on the twenty-gallon buckets where each plant was growing. “Thymelord, Muscular Dystrophy. Schnozberry, Glaucoma. Lilac Kush, ADHD…” She looked up at him. “ADHD?”
“That one’s for me. I don’t think doctors have prescribed it, but it works a hell of a lot better than the fucking Ritalin my parents forced on me when I was a kid. I was too hyper for them to handle when they were in town. When I smoke, I can focus better and I don’t feel like crawling out of my own skin.”
The tips of his ears grew hot with embarrassment at the admission, but maybe it was for the best that she knew. With his mind always running in eight different directions, and the frantic need to bounce from one thing to another, no one had ever been able to handle a long-term relationship with him, not even his parents. During the limited times he was around them, they were always impatient and annoyed with his lack of ability to hold still and concentrate on one thing. Kat definitely deserved to be warned away from that.
Instead of pursing her lips and looking at him like he was an overgrown child, Kat gave him a soul-searing look and nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me. I heard that Ritalin fucked up a lot of kids. This has got to be better…for some people, anyway.”
The compassion and understanding in her voice made Klement’s chest tight, and it took all of his willpower not to yank her into his arms and kiss her. “Yeah, it really messed with my head. Weed just helps me focus. It keeps me from bouncing off the walls.”
Kat traced her finger across one of the leaves. “These look purple. It’s kinda pretty.”
“Thanks. It took me three years to perfect that strain.” And for some reason, her calling his custom plant pretty meant more to him than the praise it always garnered from actual pot-smokers.
He showed her the rest of the plants and explained the growing and harvesting process. He expected her to get bored, but actual hours passed before she even look
ed at the clock.
“Holy shit, it’s two in the morn—” Her words broke off on a yawn.
“Damn, it is late,” Klement admitted. Time seemed to stop whenever he was with her. “I guess we should go to bed.”
Together, he wished.
He led her out of the grow room, the silence in the hallway deafening after the roar of the ventilation fans. They both stopped and blinked, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the dimness of the rest of the house.
Kat’s arms suddenly slid around his waist. Her cheek pressed against his chest, and her husky whisper was like a caress.
“Goodnight. I had a wonderful time.”
“Goodnight,” Klement replied. He held her tightly a moment, then bent down and kissed the top of her head. Releasing her was agony.
As he watched her tiptoe toward bed with his cat Geddy on her heels, he considered asking if she wanted to help him with the harvest. Then the stupidity of that thought made him wince. As well as they’d worked together in the garage and in the music room, he needed to remember that, after Thashfest, she’d be going back to Idaho. She was a colleague. All of the band members would be headed back to their respective homes after the recordings and Thrashfest. He’d only ever see Kat again a little before Bleeding Vengeance’s next tour—or never again if she couldn’t handle the stage.
Chapter Thirteen
The next morning Kat groggily wandered into the kitchen, grateful for the smell of fresh coffee brewing. It had been awhile since she’d gotten to play darts, and though it had been worth it, she was exhausted and had a slight headache. Inner scorn surfaced as a self-deprecating laugh. She needed to toughen up if she was going to be a decent rock star.
Of course…things weren’t always what they seemed. Klement’s reputation as a big stoner had always been a subject of humor and admiration in the metal world, but after talking with him last night in the grow room she’d learned that it was more medicine to him than anything. Yet he seemed so painfully embarrassed about it, like she’d look down on him for having ADHD. Why would she, when she had her own disorder? Then she remembered him talking about his parents forcing him to take Ritalin. That would explain his shame, and his scorn for manmade drugs. Her heart ached for the little boy whose parents were barely around, and when they were, they couldn’t tolerate him unless he was doped up. The more Kat learned about Klement, the more she understood why he was so eccentric.
