Revenge: The Complete Series (Erotic Rock Star Suspense Romance)

by Mimi Strong

  The brown-haired guy hands the cashier a twenty and says he’s paying for my coffee. I stuff the hundred back into my bag quickly and thank him without looking into his eyes.

  I shuffle away and take the elevator back down to the archives. I’m relieved to be back down here, where nobody can see me.

  Nick is doing a manual inspection of the area, checking that we’re actually alone. He explains that Carter Morris really was down there, and must have left quietly without saying goodbye.

  “I swear he does that on purpose,” Nick says. “So you feel like he’s always around, looking over your shoulder.”

  Nick’s nostrils flare, and he flicks his lip piercing from the inside of his mouth rapidly. He’s rattled. I can’t understand why, since Mr. Morris seems so nice, but maybe Nick is up to something. He did get into some sort of trouble with the vice president, to get banished down here with me.

  Nick is a bit of a mystery. He’s down in the basement archives with me doing grunt work, but he’s still connected. He’s the one who got me the two thousand. Who is he in with? Stephanie up on the ninth floor? Or the Vice President? There’s no way the spycams in the firehall are just for security. Nick is up to something.

  I shake my head. Yesterday’s incident at the vacant house has got me paranoid. Now I’m imagining big conspiracies.

  I take a big sip of my sweet coffee. This is going to make me jittery, but at least I’ll be awake.

  Nick is already sifting through a dusty box, so I do the same over on my table.

  After ten minutes of scanning and file transfers, I look up and notice there’s something different about my coworker.

  “Nick, did you get another piercing over the weekend?”

  He points to the corner of his eyebrow.

  I laugh. “Actually, I thought the cheek one was new, but you had that before. I guess I’m just confused, and sleep-deprived. Dylan was being kind of intense last night, and I couldn’t sleep.”

  He keeps pointing to his eyebrow. “This one’s new.” He gets a far-away look in his eyes, like he’s enjoying the memory of the piercing.

  “What do your parents think of your piercings?” I ask.

  “They don’t care,” he answers flatly. “My father only cares about his new kids, and my mother is… well, she’s all about her career. I don’t think she’s noticed the piercings.”

  “Nick! You’re making me feel so sad for you. Can I give you a hug?”

  “No.”

  I keep my hands moving, loading and unloading the computer drives with old disks.

  “You need a hug,” I say.

  “No.”

  I push my chair back and walk slowly around the desks. A smile is twisting on my lips, and I feel giddy. My super-coffee is kicking in.

  “Nick,” I say, waggling my eyebrows. “Just close your eyes and let it happen.”

  To my surprise, he pushes his chair back from the table and closes his eyes. I lean down over him and give him a sideways hug. Nick smells like baby powder. I thought he’d smell like sawdust or metal shavings. His shoulders are tense, but after a moment, he sighs and relaxes.

  I pull away and stare at him with my hands on my hips. “Better now?”

  He nods and shifts the chair back up to the desk.

  I take my seat again and go back to work.

  When I look up and catch his eye again, something’s different. It’s not just his new eyebrow piercing, but something in the way he looks at me.

  We work quietly until eleven o’clock.

  He says, “Okay, what happened last night with Dylan? I know you’re dying to talk about it.”

  “You won’t tell anyone?”

  His eyes are wide. “Who would I tell?”

  I finish the last syrupy gulps of my coffee, and then I lay it all out for Nick. My whole messy life. The dirtbag half-sister who’s suddenly my roommate. How she swears she’s different now. And how weird I feel about liking her… like I’m betraying myself by trusting her.

  And then I tell him all about what happened over the weekend with Dylan. I don’t go into too much detail about losing my virginity, of course, but I tell him it happened. His face doesn’t show any reaction. He says he hasn’t been looking at the spycam feeds for the firehall, and maybe he’s telling the truth. I make a mental note to find them and unplug them as soon as I can.

  When I get to last night, and how Dylan roughed up the squatter, Nick doesn’t say anything. The edges of his mouth curl down. Talking about it makes me feel sick to my stomach, but I take it slow, breathing deeply. In the light of day, it’s easier to act like the attack was no big deal.

  Once I’m done the story, Nick says, “I have a friend who can check police reports.”

  “We didn’t call the police.”

  “We should find out if Dylan Wolf killed someone last night.”

  My face burns hot as my blood runs cold.

  “Don’t joke around,” I say to Nick.

  He pulls out his phone, then pushes it aside. We don’t get reception here in the basement.

  “I’ll check later,” he says.

  “Nick, you can’t tell anyone. I trust you. I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t trust you. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

  He takes a long time to answer.

  “Yes. We’re friends.”

  “Do you swear you won’t tell anyone about what happened last night?”

  “I swear. But I’m still going to look into reports. If some homeless guy showed up beaten and dead last night or this morning, you’d want to know, wouldn’t you?”

  I stare down at my hands, twisting against each other on my lap. The smell was so awful, but not being able to breathe was worse.

  “Sure,” I say, my voice a hoarse whisper. “I’d want to know.”

  Chapter 13

  Dylan doesn’t contact me at all on Monday.

  I wish I’d thought to get his phone number the last time I saw him, but then again, I’m glad I didn’t.

  If I did have his number, I’d probably send him a million embarrassing text messages. I’d become some needy girl, bugging him.

  I want him in my life, but I have to respect his career. He’s busy right now, writing songs. He should have his space and not get bothered by me.

  I want to give him space, but it’s still hard.

  When I climb into bed Monday night, I miss him so much. There’s nothing new on his YouTube channel, but I play everything on there with the volume turned down low. The Blue Shoes video is still getting a lot of views, but it’s slowing down.

  I look at some of the other videos that are trending. What do they have that Dylan doesn’t? The other videos suck, but maybe I’m not impartial. I thought for sure Dylan was heading for a billion views and a huge deal with Morris Music.

  Now… I just don’t know.

  Every day, dreams don’t come true. This whole city is mostly full of people whose dreams aren’t coming true.

  I hold my teddy bear tight and try not to worry.

  My sleep is full of nightmares.

  The next morning, I get ready for work, and try not to worry.

  Tuesday.

  I get back to my desk in the archives.

  Nick says, “I talked to my friend at the police department.”

  I bite my lip as all my worries swirl around me like a tornado.

  “And?”

  The big land line phone on Nick’s desk rings, piercing the silence.

  “And nothing,” he says. “No news is good news.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. I’m so glad Nick didn’t find out something awful. Of course I never believed Dylan would kill someone, but it’s good to know for sure.

  Nick answers the phone. “Archives, Nick speaking.” He looks at me. “Yes, I believe we do. May I say who’s calling?” He pushes the phone over to my side. “Dylan,” he says.

  I take the phone, narrowing my eyes at Nick.

  “Jess speaking,” I say.

&n
bsp; “That was easy,” comes a deep, gritty voice that makes my toes curl inside my shoes.

  “Hi,” I say.

  Dylan says, “I didn’t have your phone number, so I called the Morris switchboard and asked for the prettiest girl there.”

  I giggle and swivel my chair so Nick can’t see my face scrunching up.

  “You did not,” I say.

  “The receptionist demanded more details. I think she was mad I wasn’t calling for her.”

  “You freak,” I say, giggling.

  “I could tell by her voice she isn’t as pretty as you. But then again, nobody is.”

  “OMG, stop right now.”

  He makes a growling sound, then says huskily, “How’s that sweet body of yours today? My bed is so big and lonely. I think you and your teddy bear should come over to my place tonight.”

  I’m shaking with giggles and embarrassment. I’m so relieved to hear his voice that I’m giddy. He sounds happy, like he’s forgotten all about what happened Sunday night.

  “I think I figured out my writer’s block,” he says. “I keep thinking about undressing you, smelling your skin, and kissing you all over. I’m losing my mind because I need you. I need to feel you under me. I want to hear you cry out my name.”

  “Um.” I twist the chair from side to side, twirling the phone’s cord into a knot around my finger. “That sounds good.”

  “How soon can you get here? Twenty minutes?”

  “I’m at work.”

  “I know you are. That’s where I called you, sexy. Why are you whispering? You keep teasing me with that sexy whisper, I’ll have to repay the favor when you get here.”

  “I’m not off work until five.”

  He groans, his breath sending static to my ear. I can practically feel the heat radiating off him.

  “You’ll be the death of me,” he says. “Five o’clock is an eternity away.”

  “I’ll make it up to you.”

  I hear a breathy sound. I can imagine him sucking in air through his clenched teeth. My whole body is tuned to his every sound, my back arched and my muscles tensed.

  Softly, he says, “Come over as soon as you can. I’m at the firehall. You remember the way?”

  I assure him that of course I remember the address. We say goodbye, and I turn around and hang up the phone. I can feel Nick’s eyes on me, and I’m trying to be cool, but I can’t get this big grin off my face.

  Before Nick can get a word out, the elevator dings with a visitor arriving. The doors pull open, and there’s a huge arrangement of flowers covering the visitor’s face.

  My heart thuds with panic for a moment, thinking it’s actually Dylan, here at my work.

  The guy lowers the flowers from his face. It’s not Dylan. He says, “Where do you want these? You’re Jess, right? The receptionist does not like you.”

  My voice comes out squeaky. “Right here is fine.” I shove some boxes over and make room on my table.

  This bouquet has red roses, like the ones Dylan brought over Sunday night, plus a bunch of other exotic flowers.

  After the delivery guy leaves, Nick finally speaks.

  “Jess, you need to be careful.”

  I smell the flowers, cupping a fat rosebud in my palm.

  “Don’t be jealous,” I say, teasing him. “We can share. I’ll push them over so part of the vase is on your desk.”

  “This is too much, too soon,” Nick says. “You just met this guy. You don’t know him. He changed his legal name. Did you know that? He used to be Brandon, and then he changed his name to Dylan. Normal people don’t change their name.”

  “It’s not a secret. He told me about his name change. He was going through some stuff and wanted a fresh start.”

  “What stuff was he going through?” Nick asks.

  I roll my eyes. “Come on. Like you don’t know. Maggie talked about it when he was here for the meeting. If Morris Music knows, I’m sure you know, with all your eyes and ears everywhere.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “That he had a wife named Susan. She was kind of a disaster by the sound of it, and then she died in a car crash. It’s heartbreaking, but it’s not suspicious.”

  Nick nods. “That is correct.”

  “Is there more?” I stare at Nick, wondering what he’s up to. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s jealous. But he did give me some strong hints that he’s gay.

  Nick doesn’t answer my question.

  “If you know something, you can tell me,” I say. “If you have information, I won’t tell Dylan how I found out. I didn’t tell him about your pervy little spycams, you freak. But I am going to yank those out of the wall as soon as I get to Dylan’s place tonight.”

  “They’re wireless. You can unplug the transmitter just outside the front door. I already know everything I need to know.”

  “Like what? That he’s just a talented singer who’s working hard on his big break?”

  “Jess, it’s not that simple.” He fidgets with the items on his desk, lifting his coffee cup and dusting underneath it with his hand. “Until five minutes ago, you didn’t even know if he was a violent criminal.”

  “But he isn’t a violent criminal. You checked with your friend.”

  I pull out the tiny envelope and withdraw the card. There’s nothing on the card except for one word: Tonight.

  Nick keeps talking, sounding agitated. “Actually, just because there’s no police report of anything from this weekend, that doesn’t confirm anything.”

  “Don’t be jealous,” I say, giggling. “Get your own cute boyfriend and don’t worry about mine.”

  I zone out, thinking about tonight.

  Nick snaps his fingers. “Jess, are you listening to me? You’ve got that glazed-over look in your eyes. Promise me you’ll take it slow with this guy.”

  I keep smelling the flowers, trying to ignore the voice of negativity.

  Chapter 14

  It’s nearly six when I get to Dylan’s place and knock on the blue door.

  There’s no answer. I try the handle, and it’s not locked, but I don’t want to barge in.

  Now, what did Nick say about his little spycams? There’s a transmitter on the outside, somewhere near the door. I take a few steps back, looking along the ground. What would something like that even look like?

  “Hey, sexy,” comes a voice behind me. “Did you drop something?”

  I turn around to find Dylan behind me, holding a grocery bag and two pizza boxes.

  “Just waiting here for you to answer your door, but I guess you were out. You got pizza?”

  “Don’t worry about these boxes, these are just for snacking,” he says, talking a mile a minute. “Open that door and step into my lair, why don’t you, sexy?”

  We go inside, and I follow him to the kitchen, where he sets down the pizza boxes. He’s still talking at a rapid-fire pace, telling me about the flatbread pizza shop he discovered down the street.

  “These pizzas do smell good,” I say when there’s a pause.

  I’m grateful for the food smelling good, because eating will delay what happens next. We’re here, alone, and I’m sure we’ll be having sex tonight. Doing the deed.

  OMG. I’ve had sex exactly once, and I don’t feel any more experienced.

  I thought I’d feel different after the first time, but I’m still nervous as hell. If Dylan wasn’t so hot, maybe I could pretend we might or might not. But even now, pulling bottles of lemonade out of a grocery bag, the man is pure sex appeal. The way his arm muscles ripple just under his tattoos is hypnotic.

  His skin draws my attention. Every bit of exposed skin. My eyes explore his neck, and the small bump of his Adam’s Apple. He’s recently shaved, and his cheeks and jaw look kissable.

  Even his hands are gorgeous. The knuckles of his right hand are red, maybe bruised. I space out for a minute staring at his hands.

  He’s stopped talking. I jerk my eyes back up to his and find him grinning at me
.

  “We’ve got reservations somewhere special, but not until later. I didn’t want to starve you in the meantime.”

  “Reservations? Honestly, pizza is fine.”

  He stops setting out plates and glasses and keeps looking into my eyes.

  His eyes and eyebrows are twitching, like he’s thinking a million things at once. He’s definitely in a high-energy mood, and positive. The opposite of how dark he was when he left my house two nights ago.

  “You’re here,” he says slowly.

  I laugh. “Yes. I’m here.”

  “Why am I not kissing you?”

  I look down at my feet, suddenly shy.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks.

  “Not really.” It’s been a while since lunch, but being in the same room as Dylan puts my body in a state of alertness. It’s a type of hunger, but not for food.

  He closes the pizza box and walks up to me. He leans down, but instead of kissing me, he takes both my hands in his and looks at my fingers.

  “Were these little hands working hard today?” he asks.

  “Very hard. Thank you for the flowers. You made my day a lot better.”

  He lifts my hands to his mouth and kisses my fingertips. His dark brown eyes lock onto mine, making me feel dizzy.

  “No calluses on your fingers,” he says. The corner of his mouth turns up in a crooked smile. He opens his mouth and gently bites my fingertips.

  My body shudders at the touch of his hot mouth on my fingers. He drops my hands and steps in, wrapping his arms around my back. I feel like I’m falling, and he’s catching me.

  His mouth is on my neck, his breath hot and heavy by my ear. I moan as my legs go weak.

  He moves his mouth up over my jaw and to my lips. I open my mouth, starving for him. He flicks my tongue with his, teasing me to stand up on my tiptoes, chasing after his mouth.

  With a low growl that resonates through his wide chest, he reaches down past my lower back. His hands hook under my butt and he lifts me straight up. He sets me on the counter, still kissing me, but just for a moment. He gets a better grip and walks me to the spiral staircase, my legs around his waist.

  Up we go, to the bed.