Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8

by Jade C. Jamison

  It didn’t matter what had made her that way; Nick wanted to know, ached to discover her secrets. And he would. By God, he would, if it was the last thing he did.

  * * *

  Two weeks of practices didn’t much change Brina’s relationships with the band members. She remained aloof and seemed untouchable. She was definitely a professional. She came to each practice, did her job and did it well (and even Brad was starting to admit he was growing used to her different way of playing), and then she left. She didn’t seem interested in bonding with her bandmates.

  Well, she wouldn’t have much of a choice once they hit the road.

  They were now working on new material, so they weren’t meeting as often. Val wanted everyone to have their own personal practice time, but she also thought everyone needed the time away to be creative. And when they did get together, it was for half a day. At the rate they were going, though, they’d be recording soon, and Nick couldn’t wait to hear the end result. He knew from experience that Fully Automatic’s songs always sounded a little different once cleaned up and mixed professionally, and he knew Val Hella’s would be no different. It wasn’t a bad thing, but it always took a little getting used to. It probably was even more noticeable to Nick, because he was always at an unusual vantage point from his kit. Whatever the case, they always sounded good on the disc, and that was all that mattered.

  But two weeks…it just didn’t make sense. Half a month and the woman’s shell hadn’t cracked. The ice hadn’t melted. She was just as closed off and battened down as she had been when she’d first auditioned. What was he going to have to do to thaw her out?

  Chapter Five

  LESS THAN TWO months later, they were recording, laying down tracks for the fans to enjoy. They also had a video shoot scheduled for the first single. The label would determine which songs would get radio play, with or without the band’s suggestions. Nick didn’t care which ones made it to the airwaves, because he thought they were all solid.

  Once it was all mixed together, Nick experienced that weird feeling, the one where the songs sounded slightly different to his ears all mixed together in a nice, neat package than they did when they played live in Brad’s studio. It was a feeling of disorientation, as though someone had pulled the planet out from underneath him. After he’d listened for a bit, though, he was able to settle in, getting pulled in by a familiar beat he’d laid down, and then he felt grounded again.

  Damn. Yeah. It was a solid effort, and he was convinced that Val’s debut was going to enthrall critics and fans alike. Oh, and the bass player known to their future fans as Sinna. He knew exactly why all the male fans were going to love the band even more, thanks to the two hot women in it. He knew he and Brad added a lot, but they weren’t the eye candy.

  And that was why the song the label chose as the first single didn’t surprise him one bit, because they too knew that sex sells, and it sells big. It was a song called “Show Me What You Can Do to Me” and it was the most suggestive lyrics he’d ever heard Val write. That the studio chose it because it was sexy was even more obvious when they began filming the video. They only did a few takes of the band playing the song, filmed from different angles, under different light, with different effects, but they spent another two days filming Val on her own with a bonus hour of Sabrina.

  The next week, they had to talk tour. The dates were already set as well as most of the bands they’d be touring with, but Val wanted to talk about the logistics. They practiced together once a week, whether they felt like they needed to or not, and also brought new ideas to the table. By this point, though, it seemed that everyone was tapped out creatively, and Nick figured it was because they’d worked so hard on the album. He knew, most of the time, inspiration seemed to hit everyone once they were on the road. He blamed boredom, but he figured it was also the regimen of playing every night that challenged them to write new material.

  After they practiced that afternoon, Val ran back in the house for snacks. Nick still hadn’t quite figured out Sabrina’s food likes and dislikes (aside from no pizza), but Val had seemed to get a bead on it. She’d probably outright asked the woman, but Nick got the feeling she didn’t like to be asked a lot of questions, so…he didn’t.

  He was still trying to impress her, though. Several months of playing together and she still seemed chilly. He couldn’t figure out what was up with that. Being obnoxious with an in-your-face personality, her cool temperature didn’t scare Nick. He knew he just hadn’t found the right tack yet.

  Brad was fiddling with some cables in the corner and Brina was polishing her bass while waiting for Val. Nick started twirling his sticks through his fingers and said, “Gotta get my show ready for tour.”

  Brina looked up, one eyebrow cocked, and said, “Show?”

  “Yeah. The fans eat it up. I don’t know if I’m going to do anything special for Val’s band, but for Fully Automatic, as you might know, I like to do a few tricks. Y’know, twirling the sticks between my fingers, tossing a stick in the air and catching it, baton-style. Stuff like that. The fans love it, and I think it even makes the show a little suspenseful—will he catch it before the next beat?” Nick was being a smart ass. He knew the audience didn’t really pay that much attention and probably didn’t give a shit if he missed hitting a snare here and there, and—in spite of what a lot of people thought, especially those who didn’t know him well—his ego didn’t depend upon recognition.

  The look on her face, one of incredulity, only made him want to go even more over the top. He sat back at his kit and started doing some of what he called tricks, all focused on things he could do with his sticks. Yes, it was true that he did them onstage and he thought the occasional audience member enjoyed and appreciated his efforts, but it wasn’t anything like what other guys did. Godsmack’s drum battle, which Nick was happy to say he’d had the pleasure of witnessing live once, while Sully Erna and Shannon Larkin dueled back and forth performing drum solos, put anything he did onstage to shame. Still, he felt like it was every band member’s duty to make each show memorable—and Nick did his part. Was it important? Hell, no. There were kids starving in third world countries. Whether or not Nick tossed a drumstick in the air and caught it, banging the drum as expected at the appropriate time was not of dire importance.

  But it was his job, entertaining the masses as part of a group. He was integral, as he laid the groundwork for the rest of the band. That job he did not take lightly, nor did he feel he blew it up to make it more important than it was. If he had a bad night, he could majorly fuck with the rest of the band. It was his job to be play well and be unobtrusive. He was the foundation.

  For now, though, he was hoping to thaw the ice princess with his smart ass sense of humor. Most women found it endearing and he’d made lots of people feel more comfortable around him because he didn’t hesitate to joke around. So he put on a show, performing his tricks, and then exaggerating the expression on his face, alternating from one of horror to shock to anticipation, pretending like he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to catch the stick or acting like he was struggling to get it right.

  But the look on her face…she acted like she was not only unimpressed but permanently turned off.

  Okay, so what the fuck made Sabrina Moreno a critic? He, Nick Channing, had played with a world-famous band since their humble beginnings. They were huge. She came from the same world, the indie world, playing in bars and dives and little holes in the wall. He’d never even heard of Scar Tissue until Val had mentioned it and she, “Sinna,” was going to look down her nose at him?

  Sadly enough—and Nick knew this in the back of his mind—it wouldn’t have bothered him a bit if he hadn’t wanted her so badly.

  But he pressed on, playing through the song in his head, laying down the beats and performing the tricks until the finale. When he was done, he stood and bowed as though he’d finished a symphony. Brad walked out, hadn’t even been paying attention, and Nick saw through the window that
Val had been waving to him, apparently asking for his help with something. Brina clapped with the cadence of the dead, a long pause between each smack, and Nick could almost hear the dripping sarcasm in the silence between. Nick arched his eyebrows and then smirked. “What tricks you got, babycakes?”

  Her voice was low, almost derisive. “I don’t need tricks. My playing speaks for itself.”

  He couldn’t let that one go. “Yeah, and how many personal fans do you have, Sinna?”

  She sneered—actually sneered—and, for some strange reason, Nick felt a twitch in his cock at the sight. He stopped himself from bursting into laughter, because that would have made her angrier. While he didn’t mind her angry, he hoped to be able to enjoy a real conversation. She took two steps closer to him and said, “I don’t count how many personal fans I have, if I even have any. It’s not about me, Nick, any more than it’s about you.” Her voice wrapped around his name like honey, but it oozed disgust. He still wasn’t sure if he found it hot or not. She continued, not giving him a chance to evaluate his emotions. “It’s about us as a group, as a band, and until we gel, there will be division, and if we’re not cohesive, what the hell kind of music are we gonna make?”

  “I see your point, but I have a counterpoint. If you are all about the band and don’t give a shit about yourself, then where’s your pride? Your personal responsibility?” He stood up. He’d been joking before, but now he was dead serious. Some small part of himself felt like she might be questioning his integrity, and that pissed him off. “When you fuck up onstage—and you will—will you blame all of us? We’re a band, after all.” He couldn’t help the tone in his voice. There would be no way for her to mistake how irritated he was becoming. It had been cute before, but now she was pushing some button that set him off. He wasn’t sure if he was angrier with her for pissing him off or himself for getting mad at her in the first place.

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Nick. You know that’s not what I meant.” She got closer to him.

  He closed the gap, so close that their noses almost touched. “How the fuck should I know that?” His eyes searched hers, trying to decide if she was wanting to start a war. But then, as he continued looking back and forth between those blue orbs, he saw them soften ever so slightly. He let his jaw relax a little then, but he still couldn’t quite read her.

  Her words, however, were still acerbic. “Because you’re a smart fucking guy.” She cocked an eyebrow again. He couldn’t decide if he fucking loved the way she did that or if it was just another irritant. “Or so I thought.”

  Nick tried once more to assess her and fell short. He could feel some kind of weird electricity sparking between them. At first, he’d thought it was the anger, but then he realized that maybe there was something more. He moved his head a few centimeters closer and she didn’t budge. His voice was barely a whisper when he said, “I am a smart fucking guy. I’m so goddamned smart that I figured out what this is all about.”

  She furrowed her previously cocked brow, but he barely saw it as he brought his mouth down on hers. He knew that had to be the issue at hand—the sexual attraction between them both was interfering with their ability to communicate. It was making them angry, accusatory, and they weren’t acting like bandmates or even acquaintances. They were spitting at each other like they were mortal enemies. That might have been okay, but Nick definitely had other ideas about which way their relationship should be heading.

  He heard her mumble, “What the—?” Then he expected her to fight, based on her initial stance, but she let go and gave in, kissing him back.

  It was an incredible explosion in his head, the sparks he felt because of the way their tongues danced together and the warmth of her body close to his. Feeling more in control then, he slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close. Brina was tall, taller than most women Nick fucked. With her boots on, she was almost as tall as he, so he didn’t have to bend his neck. They were almost eye to eye.

  He felt her hands slide up his chest. His cock was ready to let go, aching to be pumped full of blood so it could do the deed it was made for, but he needed to hold it together. They were at Val’s, for fuck sake, and—worse—Brad and Val would be back at any minute. There would be no fucking right here, right now.

  But he could lay the groundwork.

  The way her hands glided up his chest was doing it for him. Jesus Christ. He couldn’t wait for her to do that to him with his shirt off. Except, just as he was beginning to relish it, she pushed against him, shoving him back. He resisted at first but then he responded, realizing she was damn serious.

  “What?”

  “I could ask you the same thing. What the fuck was that all about?”

  “Wasn’t just me. It sure as hell felt like you were kissing me back.”

  She snorted and backed away, a sardonic smile on her lips marring her features. “I said you were smart…but I take it all back now.”

  He shook his head. “Oh, really? You telling me you didn’t just kiss me back?”

  She clenched her jaw before answering. “It was instinct.”

  “Instinct. Okay. Whatever.” That was it. He was done with her. Apparently, she liked fucking around with people—that was her thing. Well, she couldn’t fuck around with Nick. And if she wanted to deny what he’d just felt, more power to her. There were plenty of other women out there who’d beg for a kiss from him, let alone everything else he had to offer.

  “Don’t you know?”

  That she was a crazy fucking bitch? Yeah…he was beginning to figure that out. But he sat back down at his kit and shook his head, his lips sealed in response. He was done talking. She didn’t deserve any more conversation with him—not now, at any rate.

  And where the hell were Val and Brad anyway?

  Brina’s voice was softer than he’d expected, the harsh, streetwise tone out of it for but a moment. “I have a girlfriend, Nick. And you’re asking me to cheat on her.”

  What the fuck? And where the hell did the floor disappear to?

  Chapter Six

  VAL WAS TALKING tour details, but Nick’s mind was circling around the revelation Brina had hit him with earlier. Okay, so, the fact that she was a lesbian explained a lot. It explained why she took issue with his obvious love and adoration of (okay, lust toward) women and why she wasn’t a bit susceptible to any of his charms. It might even explain her animosity toward him—in a way, he was a bit of competition.

  That wasn’t necessarily true—he knew that. It all depended upon the type of women she went for. He couldn’t even ask, though, because Brad and Val had entered with the food not seconds after Brina had hit him with her big reveal.

  God, but he was dying to ask her more. He was brimming over with questions.

  A lesbian? Holy shit, that was hot. His cock was itching and it needed to be scratched. What sucked was that Brina wasn’t the woman to polish him off, though. She could still participate in the fantasies in his head, but if she wasn’t into men, he’d have to move on.

  That kiss, though…that had felt real. Too real to deny.

  So, after business was over, Nick decided to ask Brina to have a conversation with him. Nothing big because, again, he got the feeling she didn’t like to talk much. Maybe she needed to feel more comfortable with him first. He didn’t know, but he did want to open the doors a bit. If they were going to work together, they might not have to like one another, but a little respect and maybe even friendship might go a long way toward helping them as people and definitely boosting the band. Sure, a band was a business, first and foremost, but how many bands had broken up because of personal conflicts? Way more than Nick even wanted to try counting.

  As they cleaned up the area, Nick was biding his time, waiting for the right moment. Now that he knew what he was going to say, he just had to play the waiting game. He realized during that time that he had all but tuned out all the business talk, had merely nodded when needed and added a yes or no at the appropriate spots in th
e conversation, but he hadn’t really participated. In fact, it just sunk in that Val Hella would be supporting Last Five Seconds during their tour in the spring, after doing several dates in January and early February supporting indie bands across the country. And, if he hadn’t been distracted by Sabrina, he would have been a whole hell of a lot more excited to realize he was going to see those guys. He considered them friends from way back, considering that band had been part of his first “tour” ever, a small multistate three-band tour spread across Colorado and a few connecting states in an effort to expand their fan base. It had worked—Nick was sure of that—but more importantly, it had solidified his respect for Last Five Seconds. He would always look back upon that tour fondly. Good times.

  But…to the matter at hand. Brad and Val had picked up the leftover food and dishes and were taking them back to the house. He’d have no better time to talk to Brina alone than now, not if he planned on doing it today. He stood up and faced her. She had in her hands her black iPhone and was swiping at the screen. All Nick could do was hope that he could steal her attention from that device for a few seconds. Otherwise, he was going to throw in the towel.

  He cleared his throat and approached her. “Got a minute?”

  It took her a few seconds, and in that space of time, Nick was certain she was going to blow him off, but she looked up, one eyebrow arched. Goddamn, it was decided—he loved the tricks she did with those thin black eyebrows of hers. “Shoot.”

  Nick drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs. “I feel like we started off on the wrong foot…but I think, as bandmates, that it would be a good idea for us to get along, so I wondered if you wanted to have a quick drink and talk.”

  He could see amusement behind her eyes but she didn’t flat out smile. Both her eyebrows lifted, though, and, yeah…he loved that too. “I think I’m getting along with you just fine.”