With Vengeance
Author: Brooklyn Ann
Date: 2016-05-18 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: she wants to be taken seriously
Description: A struggle between business and pleasure is further challenged by secret identities and a malicious enemy.SHE HAS A MISSIONKatana James’s dreams come true when she gets to audition for the new lead guitarist for her favorite band, Bleeding Vengeance. Kat knows the odds are against her with her gender, her anxiety disorder, and her crush on the lead singer. But as soon as she overcomes two of those challenges, two more come up: First, her infatuation with the singer fades away only for the brilliant, kind, and mysterious Klement Burke, the bassist, to set her heart aflame. Then she becomes the

SHE MEANS BUSINESS

Twenty-three year old Katana James can shred on the guitar. Not that anyone would know, as she’s spent most of her time working on a popular news and gossip website for heavy metal fans since her own band broke up. But her dreams are in reach when she gets an audition to play with her favorite band, Bleeding Vengeance. Kat won’t let her gender, her anxiety disorder, or even the pranks of a malicious stalker stand in her way. The only thing to threaten her focus? A growing fascination with the group’s brilliant, mysterious bass player.

HE OFFERS PLEASURE

Klement Burke has always been the heart, soul and brain of Bleeding Vengeance. He’s the kind of rock star who stays in the shadows, a perfectionist more interested in satisfying his brain than other parts of his body. Until he auditions Katana James. At first it seemed a perfect idea, as he’s been aware of her talent for some time. But meeting her in the flesh ignites thoughts far from professional. Despite the conflict of work, the odds against her falling for a geek like him, and a secret he’s been hiding, his heart, body and soul now belong to Kat.

PRAISE FOR KISSING VICIOUS,
THE FIRST BOOK IN THE HEARTS OF METAL SERIES

“I really enjoyed this book. It’s one of those that hit all my happy buttons and allowed me to live out a fantasy through the words of the author.”

—Smexy Books

“KISSING VICIOUS is a sensual, rockin’ romance with a hero to die for.”

—Fresh Fiction

“This is not your usual rocker romance. I thank the author for creating strong characters and taking a different course from usual. We really need more strong characters like Kinley and Quinn in the romance genre.”

—The Romance Reviews

“Romance is deftly blended with humour, fantasy is tinged with tragedy, and the whole thing rolls along, nicely underpinned by a solid soundtrack of metal. It’s sexy, it’s absorbing and whole-heartedly refreshing, and while at the heart of it ‘Kissing Viciöus’ might be a romance novel, there is much more to it than that. Consider me impressed and very pleasantly surprised.”

—Jim Goforth, Author of Undead Flesh Crave

“This book is amazing. Well-written with great character development. If you love heavy metal or stories about heavy metal bands, you are gonna love this one. Well worth reading and one I highly recommend to all.”

—All Things Book Review

OTHER PRAISE FOR BROOKLYN ANN

“Following her promising debut (BITE ME, YOUR GRACE), Ann hits her stride with solid writing, a tasty dash of originality, and realistic relationships that zing with sexual energy. A strong sense of fun mixed with a little feminism keeps things lively and light, while the well-developed story keeps eyes on the page.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Ann’s delightful vampire world is a fun place to stop for a swift, lively evening’s enjoyment. Yes, it is a dark world, but with Ann’s propensity for subtle humor and eccentric characters, it’s an enchanting world as well. Four Stars.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Brooklyn Ann’s series is a definitely must read.”

—Romantic Reads and Such

WITH VENGEANCE
a HEARTS OF METAL novel

Brooklyn Ann

www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

WITH VENGEANCE
Copyright © 2016 Brooklyn Ann
Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

ISBN 978-1-944262-03-7

Ebook formatting by Maureen Cutajar
www.gopublished.com

Dedicated to Karen Ann
6-1-62 ~ 2-14-09
You were the best mom ever. Thank you for imbuing me with a love of music.

And to Kent Butler, my own personal rock star. Thank you so much for helping me with research, being my inspiration, and always being there for me.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you so much to all the people who made this book shine. First, to my agent, Nephele Tempest, and my editor, Chris Keeslar.

Thank you to my fabulous crit partners, Bonnie R Paulson, Shelley Martin, Rissa Watkins, and Laurie Schneider!

Thank you to the musicians who helped me with my research. Kent Butler for telling me what goes on in a recording studio, Dean Chamberlain for letting me know what chord does what, and Christian Brady for priceless info on album covers and other developments.

A huge thanks to my friends and family for your encouragement and support.

And thank you to my Street Team and Newsletter peeps for keeping up the hype.

And thanks to Bad Movie club for bringing levity and helping me keep my sanity.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Brooklyn Ann

WITH VENGEANCE

Chapter One

The door of the recording studio resembled a hungry mouth. Katana James set down her guitar case and wiped her sweating palms on her jeans. Waves of anxiety engulfed her, invoking a fine tremor in her hands. Her breath came in short, quick pants as her lungs threatened to quit taking in air. Casting quick glances around the parking lot and walkway, she grabbed her Xanax out of her purse. Unscrewing the bottle, she shook out a tiny oval orange pill. A half one or a whole? Her mouth twisted in an indecisive frown. She was definitely anxious enough to merit a whole pill, but she didn’t want to slow down and fuck up a riff.

“Please, God, don’t let me blow this,” she whispered.

She had been given the once-in-a-lifetime chance to fulfill one of her deepest fantasies: to be the lead guitarist in her favorite band, Bleeding Vengeance. Although the chance was slim of them choosing a nobody, much less a girl, she was beyond thrilled at the opportunity.

Even now she couldn’t believe she was here. Every mile of the fifteen hour drive she’d had to fight back the giddy flutter in her heart to concentrate on listening to the sample tracks they’d sent her to learn her parts, all the while praying her trusty old Subaru wouldn’t die on her. For the longest time it seemed that her best friend Kinley had all the luck, somehow snagging a job as a roadie for her favorite band, Viciӧus, and miraculously joining them as stand-in guitarist when their own went to rehab. But if Kat managed to impress Bleeding Vengeance, she’d be more than a stand-in. Because Lefty Swanson was dead.

He’d been a legend and her biggest inspiration. Now she might be called on to take his place.

Forcing herself to take deep breaths, Kat snapped the Xanax in half with her thumbnail and swallowed it with a swig of water. She grimaced at the acrid taste as she put the other half back in the bottle. Lifting her chin, she picked up her guitar case. It didn’t matter. She’d show everyone that she could shred with the best of ’em.

When she entered the studio, the guy looked up from the counter and sneered. “Girlfriends aren’t allowed in here.”

“I’m not anyone’s girlfriend.” Kat lifted her guitar case. “I have an appointment with Bleeding Vengeance.”

The guy blinked. “You’re the studio musician they’re trying out?”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Kat nodded. “And possibly their next guitarist.”

The son of a bitch scoffed. “A chick in Bleeding Vengeance? No way, it’ll never happen. You couldn’t fill Lefty Swanson’s shoes.”

“We’ll decide that ourselves, Frank,” a soft voice countered before Kat could retort. An extremely tall man had emerged from a recording room, just outside a shaft of sunlight from the window. “Katana James?” he inquired.

She started forward and froze with a gasp. It was none other than Klement Burke, the bassist of Bleeding Vengeance. But he was more than just the bassist. He was the brains behind the whole band and composed almost half of their songs. Which meant that he’d be the one to decide her fate. He was the one who’d first called her for an interview.

When she’d answered the phone, Kat had almost embarrassed herself, mistaking him for the IT guy who worked on Metalness.com, the fan website she and Kinley ran on the side while pursuing their music careers. Klement’s voice was eerily similar to IT Guy’s. Thankfully, he hadn’t seemed to notice Kat’s confusion as he questioned her intently about her musical background and abilities. He then sent her the MP3s of the songs she needed to learn and set an appointment for her to come down to the studio in Denver for a session. Now, here she stood, staring up at him like an idiot.

He had to be near six and a half feet tall, way taller than he appeared in their album pictures or on stage. Long, sandy blond hair caressed his shoulders, curling slightly at the ends. His blue-green eyes danced with mischief and intelligence. Some strange, intense feeling tightened Kat’s stomach and chest, making it hard to breathe.

She stared for what felt like an eternity, her heart pounding before she recovered herself and nodded. “Yes, I’m Katana.”

Klement gave her an unreadable smile and gestured for her to follow him to where the rest of the band waited, including Cliff Tracey, the lead singer and her biggest crush. Kat didn’t know what would be worse: Klement rejecting her, or humiliating herself in front of Cliff. Sucking in a deep breath, she squeezed the handle of her guitar case in a death grip and followed.

The bassist’s long strides led to small break room where three men lounged, men she’d only seen from a distance on stage at concerts and up close on posters on her wall. Roderick Powell eyed her up and down with a friendly smile.

“’Ello, love. So you’re the one who’s going to help us make this album?”

His British accent made her want to melt into a puddle. She nodded and shook his hand, hoping she didn’t look too star-struck. “I’m Katana James.”

“Roderick Powell.” He continued to scrutinize her. “You look too little to be behind those blistering samples we heard.”

Behind her, Klement laughed. “Yeah, she is pretty short.”

“Five feet.” Kat managed a nervous smile before her gaze strayed to the front man of the band. Cliff Tracey stood only five feet away. Her breath halted as she took in the sight of his rich chestnut curls, chocolate eyes and sculpted jaw. The man was too beautiful for words.

His gaze swept her from head to toe as he shook her hand, making heat rise to her cheeks. “So you’re ‘Metal-Kat’ from Metalness.com. You’re even better-looking than your partner. But you look too cute for this work.”

A line from the Rudolph Christmas special rang in her head. He thinks I’m cute!

She choked back a giggle. She could do that later when she called Kinley and told her how it went.

“That’s right.” Roderick leaned forward. “I love that site. You give us good promo, and your memorial post for Lefty did him justice.”

“Thanks,” she murmured. “Kinley wrote most of it, since…uh, she was there with you guys when it happened. I just filled in the background.” Kat looked down at her feet, feeling depressed and awkward at bringing up that tragic day when Lefty had been found dead from a cocaine overdose in his hotel room during the band’s tour with Viciӧus. Kin had called her both right after it happened and then at the memorial service, knowing Kat wished she was there herself to honor the memory of her idol.

The fact that she was here to replace their fallen comrade and her idol struck Kat again full-force. She didn’t want to usurp Lefty. She wanted to honor his legacy. She prayed they would see that.

Cliff stepped closer to her. “The part you wrote was the most beautiful.”

Kat shivered at his proximity and husky voice. “Thank you.”

Klement made an impatient sound behind her. “Let’s get rolling.”

She snapped to attention, ashamed of her giddy distraction. She was here to work, not flirt with a potential colleague.

Cliff grinned. “Open up that case, sweetie. Let’s see what you got.”

Kat smiled back, hoping she wasn’t blushing, and opened her case to reveal her vintage Gibson Flying V.

Cliff nodded in approval. “Good choice.”

“Lefty played a Gibson V.”

Klement’s soft voice washed over Kat, tremulous with sorrow. The grief in his eyes gave her an unreasonable urge to hug him.

“I know,” she whispered. “He was my hero.”

They exchanged a long look, and Kat was struck by the sincere respect in the bassist’s eyes. In all her twenty-three years, no one had ever taken her so seriously before. Even Kinley often rolled her eyes at her, accusing her of being too girly. Kat wanted more than anything to be worthy of this respect.

She was led into the recording room.

“So, where do I plug in?”

He handed her a giant set of headphones and gestured to the center of the room, where speaker cabinets were arranged along with a set of whammy pedals. “Right here.”

Kat hooked up her guitar, and Klement showed her where to plug the headphones so she could hear the music and instructions from the console station behind the glass. “We’ll be back there keeping an eye on things, but try to pretend you’re alone.”

Easy for you to say, she thought.

Roderick and Cliff were already in there. They waved at her from the window. Klement nodded and strode off, leaving her alone in the chamber feeling like a zoo exhibit. Kat swallowed, mouth dry.

The bassist’s voice echoed in her headphones, alarmingly intimate in her ears and somehow familiar. “We’re going to start with ‘Sorrow’s Harvest.’ Are you ready?”

She nodded with a confidence she didn’t feel.

“Remember, just like you’re at home practicing….”

Klement’s voice faded out. Something about the echo made Kat think of her IT guy again. But he couldn’t be—

The thought broke as music began to play through her headphones.

The song sounded almost the same as it had on the MP3 sent her to practice with, only the scratch guitar section was gone and Cliff’s voice sounded more pure. Closing her eyes, Kat struck the first chord just in time. The faces of her audience faded from her awareness as fierce concentration overtook her being, focus on touching each string at the right time, adding the correct pressure, making her instrument sing. Like an auditory engineer, she focused on one note and then the next until the song finished and triumph straightened her spine. She hadn’t messed up. In fact, she’d sounded pretty good.

Clapping echoed in the headphones, jolting her back to reality.

“Bloody well done, love!” Roderick said.

Cliff stared at her through the window with increased interest. “Where’d you learn to play like that?”

“I…uh…” Kat shrugged. “I just keep trying until I get it right.”

Klement shook his head. “It’s not where she learned it, it’s why.” He looked at her long and intently. “Why do you play?”

She gave him a direct stare through the glass. “I love music.”

He smiled with such understanding and satisfaction that her body warmed. “That’s right. Now let’s see how well you learned the new songs.”

Those penetrating blue eyes left hers and turned to the others. “Let’s do ‘Forsaken.’ It’s the one that’ll probably get the most airplay.”

Kat sucked in a breath. The song began with a complicated lead guitar riff.

I can do this, she told herself as she positioned her fingers. Klement gestured for her to start. Kat breathed out slowly and executed the riff. Was it right? It sounded right.

As the bass, drums, and rhythm guitar played in her headphones, her pulse settled and she was able to continue. Her usual joyous abandon was diminished in the face of her concentration upon playing the song perfectly. However, there was another sort of bliss in tapping her feet and focusing on the beat as her fingers moved with precision across the fret board and the right sounds were birthed.

When the song finished, Klement and the others gave her quick, satisfied nods before moving on to another.

So far, so good.

They had her do two more songs. On the last, just as she was beginning to relax, she fucked up and hit a G instead of a C. Her hands lifted from the guitar as if it had suddenly turned molten hot. After she halted, the music stopped with a sharp click in her ears and everyone turned to stare at her. The silence rang like a death knell.

“Sorry,” she whispered, face flaming. “I fucked up.”

“So?” Klement snapped at her, eyes suddenly gray and stormy with annoyance. IT Guy never sounded that sharp. “That doesn’t mean you should stop. We can mix it out if we need to. Now start over.”

The music began again before she could reply. Kat breathed a silent prayer and played her part. When she came to the solo, she gritted her teeth until it had been executed—flawlessly.

Klement’s voice echoed in her ears. “Okay, that’s enough for today.”

Her headphones went silent as she watched the band file out of the room. But what did it mean, “That’s enough?” Had she blown her audition, or would she be invited back tomorrow to work on another song?

The band came out and unplugged the gear and rolled up the speaker cords while Kat packed her guitar.

She rubbed her shoulder. “Sorry I fucked up that riff.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Klement said. “Just don’t stop next time.”

She dared to raise her head to meet his gaze. “You mean there will be a next time?”

“Maybe. Unless…” He paused and approached her. His great height made her tilt her head up. “Hold out your arms.”

Blinking with incomprehension, Kat complied, extending her arms, palms upward as if in supplication. And as the bassist scrutinized the pale flesh of her inner elbows, realization struck. He was looking for track marks.

Outrage and disgust made her stomach roil. How could anyone think that she shot up?

“I already told you during the first interview that I don’t touch that shit,” she growled.

Klement crossed his arms over his broad chest, resembling a merciless Viking. “Sorry, it’s a precaution that we all decided to adopt. We don’t want to hire another guitarist only to lose them to that shit again. If you’re offended, you can go and we’ll call the next guy on our list.”

“No,” Kat answered quickly, chastened. Of course they’d make double sure that their next guitarist was clean. She must look like a petulant bitch. “I’m not offended, and I completely understand why you want to be careful. You just caught me off guard.”

The tips of Klement’s fingers, long and callused from his trade, lightly touched the palms of her outstretched hands. An unidentifiable tremor coursed through her body at the feather-light contact.

“You can put your arms down now.”

His words broke off in a chuckle. Reeling from embarrassment, Kat dropped her arms and clutched her guitar case. Why couldn’t she be more like Kinley? Kin was tough. She never had stage fright and she always remained cool and professional in front of her band even though she’d had as big a crush on Quinn Mayne, lead singer of Viciӧus, as Kat had on Cliff.

At the thought of Cliff, Kat whirled around to face him, praying he wasn’t looking at her like she was an idiot. He wasn’t looking at her at all. He was cleaning under his nails with a guitar pick.

As if sensing her attention, he glanced up and winked.

What did that mean? Was it a good-job wink, or a flirtatious wink? Kat tentatively smiled back.

Klement’s voice yanked her back to business. “How about you meet us around five at my place and we’ll let you know how we’ve decided to proceed?” He grabbed a pen and wrote down his address and directions.

“Okay.” Her stomach churned with anxiety. Was she hired? What if fucking up that note made them change their minds? What if Roderick or Klement—or worse, Cliff—decided he didn’t like her?

No, she admonished herself. Aside from one mistake, I nailed that audition. They all were impressed, I could tell. And Klement—

The thought broke off as Cliff smiled at her. “See ya later, babe.”

Her cheeks warmed, and she barely heard Roderick’s and Klement’s farewells as she made her way out of the studio.

He called me babe!

As she got into her Subaru GL Wagon, she allowed reality to sink in.

I might be the new guitarist for Bleeding Vengeance! She flipped on the air conditioner and let out a sigh as gradually cooling air blew across her sweaty brow. If I do make the cut, I have to be professional. I can’t be ogling Cliff, no matter how hot he is. I need to see him as a colleague and not a fantasy.

But what if he wanted to date her or something? A rush of dreamy hope came at the thought, only this time it ebbed quickly with cold practicality. She’d lose all credibility with the rest of the band if she did that, and never gain any with the fans. Hell, some Viciӧus fans were calling Kinley “Yoko” ever since she’d started dating Quinn, and she was only a temporary band member.

No. No matter what, Kat couldn’t give in to temptation and do anything with Cliff.

She put the car in gear and headed off to her hotel room. Her IT guy was supposed to call in an hour. With all the new traffic the site she and Kinley owned was generating, the comments section had exploded with spam.

Despite the irritation of dealing with computer errors, she looked forward to talking to him. He had a gentle lullaby voice that made her worries flee, if the echo from the speakerphone was annoying. He never yelled at her like her father or her ex-boyfriend, even when she jumped ahead of his instructions and clicked the wrong key. During long nights when bad dreams and depression kept her from sleep, Kat was tempted to find out more about him: where he lived, what he did when he wasn’t helping people with their computers. If he was single.

But she never dared. Not only would it be unprofessional, he probably lived across the country. And he could be married, or one of those antisocial overweight guys that lived with their moms and spent all of their income on video games. That’s what Kinley said when Kat brought up her speculations.

Would it even matter if he was chubby, though? After her last relationship, looks were starting to matter less to Kat. All she wanted for her next boyfriend was for him to be kind. IT Guy definitely fit that bill.

Either way, they had a good friendship. She took pleasure in that. He’d known she had a big audition and would be excited to hear how it went. Of course—Kat grinned—she hadn’t told him that the audition was with Bleeding Vengeance. Even though he’d never mentioned the band when they’d talked music, he had to have heard of them.

She wouldn’t tell him that he sounded like one of the band members, she decided. That would be weird.

Chapter Two

All three members of Bleeding Vengeance watched Katana’s swaying hips and deliciously curved ass as she walked out the door. Klement tried not to look—it wasn’t professional—but hell, he was a guy. And she was a lot more attractive than he’d expected, with her wavy black hair, ebony eyes, and exquisite figure.

Cliff whistled. “Damn, I could hit that all night long. What do you think, Klem? Should we keep her?”

Klement nodded. “Yes, but not so you can bang her. I want to get some actual work done. Katana has all of our songs down better than our other candidates. So for fuck’s sake keep your hands to yourselves and maybe we can get this album recorded on time.”

Cliff’s eyes narrowed, and his chin jutted out like a rooster’s beak. “You may call the shots in the studio, but that doesn’t mean I can’t fuck her brains out when we’re off the job.”

“That’s correct,” Klement replied mildly, though the mental image made his fists clench. “I don’t give a shit what you do as long as you put out a decent album and keep your nose and veins clean. After Lefty, I just can’t.”

Cliff’s competitive aggression fled as fresh grief settled onto his features like a funeral shroud. “I know, man. And I haven’t touched the dope since, I swear.”

Roderick cut in. “I miss Lefty too, but we still haven’t figured out who’s going to replace him.”

“If Katana works out…”

Cliff snorted. “Oh, c’mon, the studio is one thing, but onstage? I mean, we can’t have a chick guitarist. We’d be a laughingstock.”

Klement crossed his arms. “You’ve heard her shred. She has Lefty’s riffs nailed to the point where she sounds just like him. Are you telling me you’d rather have a substandard guitarist just to appease the more sexist faction of our fan base?”

The singer frowned. “I think more than just a faction would be pissed.”

“They’re going to be pissed no matter who we tour with, because it won’t be Lefty. I want to at least replace him with someone good,” Klement countered. “Besides, I think most fans aren’t as shallow as you’re making them out to be. Rage of Angels has been outselling us since they debuted, and they’re three chicks and a gay guy.” Klement envied the latter, in fact. The kid was an incredible bass player.

Shaking his head, he ticked off his list. “There’s also Otep, Halestorm, Warlock, and many others. White Zombie had a female bassist until Rob Zombie went solo. And don’t forget that when Kat’s friend Kinley stepped in for Viciӧus she upped their sales by twenty percent, despite all the shit-talking on Rocktalk’s site.”

“Okay, I get your point.” Cliff ran a hand through his hair. “So you think she’ll do good for us?”

“Maybe. If she can handle herself on a big stage. She’s only played small shows in clubs, but you’ve all seen the videos of her performing.” God she was so vibrant, so alive, so—

Roderick interrupted that dangerous line of thought. “Yes, she’s a talent, in more ways than one, but only on the vids. In here she resembled a bloody wax statue.”

“That’s because those songs are new to her,” Klement argued. “Not to mention the fact that this is her first time in a studio. She was too busy concentrating on playing the songs right, not on having fun with ’em, which is what we need from her at the moment. Then we can see if she loosens up enough to give a good show.” He prayed that she could. He didn’t want to audition another guitarist. He wanted Kat.

The intensity of his desire gave him pause.

Because she’s talented, he reiterated to himself.

Cliff waggled his eyebrows. “Ten bucks says she gives me a good show tonight.”

Roderick offered his hand to shake. “I’ll take that bet.”

“C’mon, Rod.” Cliff laughed. “You know they always go for the singer. Quinn got a piece of her friend. Now it’s my turn.”

The drummer frowned. “Hey, now, some of the ladies pick me first. They love my accent. You can’t compete with that, Yank.”

Klement rolled his eyes at both of them. “I’ll see you guys at my place. When you get there, just come in. I got a tech support call.”

Cliff shook his head in bemusement. “I don’t know why you still bother with that shit. It’s not like you need the money. What are you worth now, twenty-six million?”

“I’ve been working with some of these clients for years,” Klement answered over his shoulder, already heading out the door. “It doesn’t feel right to ditch them. Besides, we probably won’t be famous forever. Eventually we’ll go out of style—or, if we’re lucky, just get too old. I like having something to fall back on.” Okay, his client base had been pared down to his sisters and one other lonely website, so it wasn’t exactly making him money anymore, and he really didn’t need any more money, but whatever.

The door closed on Cliff’s response.

Klement crossed the parking lot to his ’58 Suburban, fighting off annoyance. He knew Cliff would probably win his bet and seduce Katana. He’d seen the way she’d looked at the singer, and he hated the sinking feeling he’d gotten when he saw it. He wasn’t supposed to care. The last thing he needed was to get involved with their new recording guitarist. Hell, at thirty-five he was probably too old for her, too, and with all of his issues he wasn’t suited for a relationship.

At least he didn’t have much to worry about in that respect. Cliff was right. They always went for the singer first. It had gotten to the point where it wasn’t even satisfying to hook up with the groupies, knowing they were just settling for him. He wasn’t usually too bothered, but for some reason Kat’s crush on Cliff stuck in his craw. She’d even listed Cliff as #1 on her website list of Top Ten Hottest Rock Stars. He himself hadn’t made the list.

Klement’s stomach knotted. Quinn had been at the top of Kinley’s list. Now those two were together. Was it an omen?

The flatlands gave way to pine trees, cliffs, and hills as he left Denver. His Suburban rallied up the treacherous terrain. The winding roads seemed to match his vacillating thoughts.

None of us should be fucking her, anyway. That’ll cause us even more problems that we don’t need. I’m just glad she nailed her audition so I didn’t have to break her heart by telling her she couldn’t be part of the band. Besides, at least I have a good friendship with her, even if she doesn’t know it.

He wondered what she’d do if she found out exactly who had been providing tech support for Metalness.com ever since the site first went live.

Shortly after passing a sign that read WELCOME TO DARK SCORE, POPULATION: 130, his Suburban climbed a steeply inclined driveway. Pressing the button to open the gates at the top, he pulled up in front of his five-car garage. There he couldn’t help but wonder if Katana had a vehicle able to make the same trek as she’d need to do to come over later.

He set his keys on the cluttered kitchen counter and made coffee before heading into his giant office with a view of the Rockies. Firing up his computer, he logged in as administrator to Metalness.com and assessed the problem. Yup, their comments section was under attack by spammers again.

Turning his phone to speaker, he dialed the website owner’s number. When she answered, Kat’s soft voice seemed to caress him.

“Hi, IT Guy.”

“I told you this would happen,” Klement said, immediately dropping into his tech-support voice, a gentle, helpful tone with just a hint of the West Virginia accent he’d ridden himself of when he moved west. “Chatzy is a crappy comments system. Their captchas are illegible for humans but easy for robots to learn.”

“I know.” Kat sounded undeniably abashed. “Kinley wanted to save money.”

Klement laughed. “And look how that worked out. Your comments section is exploding with offers for weight loss pills and places for lonely housewives to hook up.”

A sigh echoed through the phone. “So, how do we go about fixing this? Should we go back to the default?”

“No, your traffic is too high. I’ve written a comment-moderation program that features custom captchas. Legible ones.”

Kat’s voice perked up. “Oh? How much?”

“Nothing. Aside from being the guinea pig to test the prototype.” He’d given her free software more times than he could count, but he didn’t like to dwell on that. Maybe it was because he knew what it was like to work a second job while struggling to gain traction in the music business. Or maybe it was just because the promotion she and Kinley did for Bleeding Vengeance led to new fans. “I want to see how it works on a high volume site. I’m sending you the file now.”

“Oh, my God, I love you!” Kat exclaimed.

Warmth trickled down his spine. He wondered what it would be like if she said that to him for real.

They worked together with their usual amiable efficiency. As always, Klement admired her competence and aptitude for this sort of thing. Most of his clients were morons when it came to computers. Hell, some shouldn’t be allowed even to operate them. Kat’s partner Kinley wasn’t as good, and she could be impatient and short-tempered and have trouble understanding what Klement considered to be the simplest instructions. Which was why, to Klement’s everlasting relief, Kat had taken over handling the tech issues.

He tried to tell himself he was only happier to deal with her because it was easier, but he also couldn’t deny the fact that he enjoyed talking with her. And even if it wasn’t professional, before he’d learned the truth he’d been unable to stop wondering what she looked like and if she was single. Now he knew, and her intoxicating beauty played havoc with his mind. Not that her looks would have played into her chance at auditioning for his band. No, it was when he discovered that Kat was a guitar virtuoso that his interest in her spiked to a maddening level—even as it placed her out of his reach.

Once in a while, early on during tech calls, they’d talked about subject material for Metalness. At first the conversations stayed relevant to work: which music equipment stores paid the best for affiliate advertizing, which bands were due to tour or release an album soon—Klement was always careful to not sound too knowledgeable—and when was the best time to run software updates. But as their working relationship progressed, he’d noticed that she plucked out intricate and enticing melodies on her guitar as she waited for applications to install or scans to complete. Klement’s curiosity was piqued. He’d thought himself the only one to do that.

“You a musician too?” he’d finally asked.

“Yeah. Kinley and I play in an all-girl Megadeth tribute band.”

Her voice had sounded defensive, as if she expected him to laugh, and Klement thought it adorable. But he’d also burned with curiosity. “You any good?”

“We get regular gigs.” Pride rang from her voice. “And we get a ton of views on YouTube.”

He’d checked out the videos as soon as they got off the phone. They were indeed good. But the video quality was crappy and he’d found himself frustrated that he couldn’t make out her features very well. Not that he could have seen much with her hair flying as she head-banged like a pro. However, two things were clear: She had a nice body, and she was ungodly talented. Good enough to play in a professional band. So was Kinley for that matter. The bassist and drummer had been acceptable but forgettable.

Why were they wasting time in a small town in Idaho? That would never get them a record deal.

Klement had broached the subject during their next support session, and her laugh was light and musical yet somehow brittle.

“Aw, we’re just doing it for fun.”

But he could hear the longing in her voice.

Maybe some of them saw it as a hobby, but Kat and Kinley looked pretty damn serious on that stage. And his suspicions were confirmed during their next call when she sounded so down that he broke off from his coding instructions and asked what was wrong.

Kat’s voice had cracked with what sounded like tears. “Our band broke up. The bassist is pregnant and our drummer is getting married.”

“That sucks.” Band breakups were often worse than any other kind. Klement sympathized, and he had tried to soothe her. “I’m sure you’ll find replacements.”

She made a hopeless sound. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find female musicians who play metal?”

“Do they have to be female?” If he hadn’t already had a band of his own, he would have been thrilled to play with her.

“Yeah. First, it helped our gimmick.” Her tone darkened. “Now Kinley and I have reasons for not wanting to work with men.”

Apparently those reasons hadn’t been completely solid for them both. Shortly afterward, Bleeding Vengeance went on their next tour and Kinley ended up working as a roadie for Viciӧus, the tour’s headlining band. Klement had wanted to ask Kinley about Kat when he saw her, but he hadn’t figured out a way without revealing himself to be their IT guy. So, he’d watched with amusement and admiration as Kinley somehow worked her way up the ranks with Viciӧus to guitar tech and ultimately a touring musician when Viciӧus’s lead guitarist checked into rehab after Lefty died. And, sure, Kinley was more than capable, but Klem couldn’t help but think Kat should have been the one onstage playing before masses of metalheads. So when Quinn Mayne, lead singer of Viciӧus, called in a favor and asked him to try Kat out as a replacement guitarist, Klement had been more than happy to give her a shot.

As if reading his mind, Kat’s excited voice brought him back to the present. “You know how I said I had a big audition?”

Klement grinned. “Yeah?”

“It was with BLEEDING VENGEANCE!”

He bit back a chuckle at the audible capital letters and feigned a gasp. “That’s awesome, Kat! I knew you were meant to go big.” He didn’t have to fake his pride—or his curiosity. Had she been intimidated? “How did it go?”

“I think I did okay. I’m supposed to go to the BASSIST’S HOUSE in a few minutes to hear the verdict. And we might even jam together!”

The capital letters had returned. Klement felt a pleasant flush to hear them pertaining to him. “I’ll cross my fingers for you to make the cut.” And she had, for recording. Now he just needed to see if she could handle the stage.

“Thanks for the support,” Kat said. “Well, I better go now. Bye, IT Guy.”

“Bye, Kat.” Klement hung up the phone and laughed over the nickname. To all of his other clients, he went by K.B. Did she even remember that? If she did, he wondered what she’d do if she ever found out what those initials stood for.

***

Richard Dumascian’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel of the rented Kia as it nearly bottomed out again on the rutted road. His pickup would have been better suited to this mountain terrain, but he couldn’t risk being recognized.

Pressing down a little more on the accelerator, he urged the car forward before he lost sight of Katana’s Subaru. Where the hell was she going now? After following her on a fifteen hour drive all the way to Denver from Spokane, and then, after only a six-hour rest, tailing her to the recording studio, chasing her through the Rocky Mountains backwoods was a headache and a half.

He shouldn’t be surprised. Kat was always a difficult bitch.

He’d show her what happened when she fucked around with him like this. But first he’d figure out what she was doing here.

Kat suddenly made a sharp turn up a narrow driveway. Richard had to slam on the brakes and jerk the wheel as his Kia skidded on gravel. He counted to ten before following further. Up ahead, Kat’s car was halted at a huge gate with a control panel for her to announce her presence for the owner to open the gate.

The thing probably had cameras.

Richard threw his car in reverse and turned around before he was seen. First she’d gone to a fancy recording studio, then she’d gotten invited to a mansion. One thing was clear. Whatever gig she’d landed was big.

The bitch didn’t deserve it.

Chapter Three

Kat stared at the giant log cabin–style mansion behind the daunting wrought-iron gate that looked so much like the gorgeous lake houses back home. Klement Burke lived here? She’d pictured rock stars like him in sprawling McMansions or posh condos in L.A., not this rustic paradise tucked in the middle of nowhere. With a shaky hand she pushed the button at the gate, hoping she hadn’t gone to the wrong house.

Instead of a voice from the speaker demanding her identity or ordering her to leave, the gate swung open on smooth hinges. Shifting the car into gear, Kat guided her Subaru up the paved driveway. She hit the brakes momentarily to gawk at the five-car garage that was as wide as the house, and then parked to the side next to a Hummer and a Lexus SUV that she presumed were Cliff’s and Roderick’s vehicles.

Her little green Subaru was ridiculously out of place. The anxiety crept back, squeezing her lungs and overloading her adrenal gland, triggering her fight-or-flight response. Kat reached into her purse and took another half Xanax before getting out of the car.

As she made her way up the flagstone walkway, she resisted the urge to mess with her hair and adjust her outfit. She wasn’t here to look pretty—never mind the fact that she’d gone on a shopping trip to pick up new jeans and a cute top and spent nearly an hour on her makeup. She was here to find out if she’d got the job…and maybe even to jam with her favorite band.

She froze in her tracks.

“Fuck!” she hissed under her breath. She’d left her guitar in the back of her car. Dashing back to it, she prayed the band wasn’t watching her on the security cameras and laughing.

Quickly, she grabbed her Gibson and made her way to the front door. She took a moment to admire the ornately carved mahogany before ringing the bell. The beginning of some classical tune chimed.

Klement answered, still wearing the same t-shirt and jeans from earlier. Now she felt silly for changing.

He didn’t seem to notice. “Come on in. We’re in the kitchen.”

She followed him across a vast expanse of hardwood floors to a luxurious but messy kitchen. Pizza boxes, dirty plates, and miscellaneous clutter covered virtually every inch of granite counter surface. She even spotted a screwdriver lying next to a bottle of ketchup. Obviously he didn’t have a maid.

Cliff and Roderick stood over the island counter, eating like veteran bachelors.

Cliff’s eyes swept over her. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey,” Kat answered a little breathlessly.

Roderick rolled his eyes and elbowed the singer aside. “So, how’d you get the name Katana?”

“My mom was a huge fan of the videogame, Mortal Kombat.” And damn, how she’d gotten teased about it.

“God, that makes me feel old.” Cliff’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not a minor, are you?”

“No, I’m twenty-three. Mom was only sixteen when she had me.” Heaviness weighed down her heart with an unreasonable guilt at being born. Her mom had just earned a full scholarship to Juilliard before she got pregnant. Instead of becoming a concert violinist, she ended up trapped with an abusive pig. Because the guy was a cop, it took years—and three broken ribs on Kat and a slipped disc on her mother from a chokehold—to escape him. His buddies in blue finally couldn’t cover for him. He’d been half the man Kat recognized as her true dad, her mom’s second husband, who had introduced her to kindness, laughter, and music before he died saving them from a house fire.

Klement broke the awkward silence. “Rod brought tacos, and there’s beer in the fridge.”

Kat took a shaky breath and lifted her chin. “I’m not going to be able to eat a damn thing until I know if I got the job or not.”

“If you didn’t, won’t that kill your appetite?” Roderick inquired with a raised brow.

Kat’s stomach plummeted.

“Shut up,” Klement said and shook his head. “Yes, you’re hired…for recording at least.”

“We decided to keep you.” Cliff gave her another flirtatious wink, looking devastatingly handsome, and Kat would have been more affected by his hotness if she wasn’t overwhelmed with mixed emotions: joy at the band’s accepting her to join them in the studio, and worry that they still hadn’t determined she was capable of performing with them onstage.

“So, can you eat now?” Klement teased.

She met his gaze, feeling more at ease. He had such a kind smile. “Now I’m too happy to eat.” But she reached for a taco anyway.

Klement laughed, a kinda dorky giggle, though it was pleasant with its unabashed merriment, and Kat couldn’t help but laugh with him.

After eating, Kat grabbed a beer from a fridge full of mostly condiments. It was some fancy-schmancy microbrew. Klement passed her a bottle opener, and she noticed that he was drinking coffee. She blinked. If she had caffeine at this hour, she’d be bouncing off the walls until three A.M.

Roderick raised his beer in a toast. “Welcome aboard, love.”

Kat clinked her bottle to his and then Cliff’s bottles, as well as Klement’s coffee mug.

The bassist looked around at them all then asked, “Well, should we jam a bit?”

Without waiting for a response, he left the kitchen, gesturing for them to follow. Down the hall and up the stairs, the music room was even more impressive than Kinley had described it the night she and Viciӧus stayed here. Countless guitars, basses, even a banjo and a mandolin hung from the walls. Huge amplifiers stood in every corner, except for one taken up by a drum kit. One side of the room was dedicated to recording equipment, complete with a mixing board and a small computer.

Cliff waved her over, a B.C. Rich guitar hanging low on his hip from the shoulder strap. Kat’s awe returned. After years of listening to his voice on her stereo and admiring him from the audience at concerts, she’d never imagined she would be this close to him.

Reverently, she took out her guitar and settled the strap over her shoulder. Holy Shit, I'm about to jam with Bleeding Vengeance!

“You can plug in here.” Cliff pointed at a huge Marshall amp. “And the pedals are over there.”

Kat hooked up her guitar and did some last minute adjustments on the strings before palming her pick. Roderick settled back behind his drums, and Klement lifted his Rickenbacker bass from a stand in the corner. As he bent over to plug it in, Kat couldn’t help watching. She hadn’t expected him to have such a cute butt. Cliff had plugged in his guitar when she turned back to him, and she felt a twinge of regret at missing the view.

Klement turned to Kat and the band. “What do you say we start with ‘Bring Out Your Dead,’ to see how she grooves with us before we move on to the new stuff?”

Cliff and Roderick nodded in agreement, and Kat felt a wave of relief and gratitude. “Bring Out Your Dead” was one of their biggest hits and she knew it by heart. It also had one of the most awesome—but difficult—guitar solos she’d ever learned. They were going easy on her, but not too easy.

In tandem, Roderick and Klement began with throbbing bass and rolling drums. Kat struck the first shredding cords right on cue as Cliff chimed in with the rhythm guitar. Kat’s worries and awareness of her surroundings faded away as she became lost once again in the song, in its joyful brutality. She was merely jamming, or playing a gig at one of her local bars. It might well have been Kinley to her right at the mike stand, Laura on bass on her left, and Bev on drums behind them.

Cliff’s rough velvet voice shattered the illusion, nearly making Kat’s fingers slip on the strings, but she managed to hold the note and progress to the next. She closed her eyes and pretended Cliff’s voice was just on the stereo and she was rocking out at home. Unable to stop herself, she started head-banging, fingers dancing on the fret board in ecstasy, and when it came time for her solo, the music had overtaken Kat’s consciousness to the point where it didn’t matter whether she was playing with Bleeding Vengeance in their living room, at an open mike night, or alone in her basement childhood bedroom. Her hair flew and her hips swayed, and her hands wrought symphonic fire.

Too soon, the song ended. Kat struck the final chord on her Gibson, power coursing through her. Then the silence crowded in like white static and her fingers trembled to chase it away.

Roderick broke the silence. “Brilliant, love.”

Cliff eyed her with new respect. “Not bad.”

Klement nodded before giving the others an inscrutable look. “Now ‘Sorrow’s Harvest’ again.”

His fingers danced so rapidly across the bass strings that Kat became almost too distracted staring at him. God, he was good.

Sucking in a breath, she began her part just in time. Her earlier joy dampened in the midst of her intense concentration on getting the song right. Still, triumph filled her with every chord she perfectly executed.

Just as she was about to begin the solo, Cliff busted out with chords and notes that were supposed to be hers. Kat nearly froze, but Klement’s earlier admonishment kept her fingers on the strings. Not knowing what else to do, she lapsed into the rhythm part, seething in outrage.

He stole my solo!

Her ex had pulled this shit all the time when she’d briefly played in his band. Cliff didn’t suck like Richard did, but it was the principle that irked her.

Fighting back a pout, she glanced over at Klement. He watched her intently, as if to see how she’d react. Did he think she should call Cliff out or just roll with it? For now she decided to just let it be. She was the newbie.

When the song ended, Klement was still watching her. She couldn’t tell if he approved of her decision or was disappointed with her complacence.

They played a few more Bleeding Vengeance songs before Cliff pulled his shoulder strap over his head. “My fingers are getting sore,” he complained. “I hope I’ll make it through tomorrow’s session with Kat.”

“Session?” Kat dropped her pick, rubbing her shoulder where the guitar strap had dug in.

Klement nodded and hung up his bass. “You’re going to do the rhythm and lead tracks for ‘Yesterday’s Angst,’ and if we have time, ‘Fractured Dreamscape’ together because I think those would sound better with more of a live sound. Rod and I will be doing the same with the bass and drums.”

Kat’s throat tightened. She’d be in one of the isolation chambers with Cliff.

Oddly, her anxiety wasn’t from being close to him, as would be expected, but fear that he’d steal her solos again. Damn it, she’d worked hard on perfecting them and Klement had praised her efforts.

Also, Cliff had really bad breath.

A self-deprecating smile curved her lips. After years of mooning over the guy, meeting the unvarnished article ebbed away the infatuation. Maybe staying professional around him wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

“What time do I need to be at the studio?” she asked, packing her guitar.

Klement handed over her pick. “Ten. And be sure to bring snacks and coffee. We’ll probably be there for at least eight hours.”

“Cool. I better head back and get some rest then.” She rubbed her shoulder again. If she was sore after only playing for a few hours, she needed to toughen up.

Cliff stepped close, and their bodies almost touched. “Taking off so soon? At least hang out and have another drink.”

She shook her head and stepped back. “There’s no way in hell I’m driving down that windy-ass road drunk.”

“Where are you staying?” Klement asked sharply. “I forgot to give you hotel recommendations.”

Lost in his inquisitive gaze, it took a moment for her to reply. “The Shady Tree Motel.”

“Hmmmm.” His brows drew together and he fidgeted with his speaker cord. He looked like he was going to say something else then shook his head. His features settled into a polite smile.

Roderick grinned. “It was great jamming with you. Want me to walk you out?”

Overwhelmed by the day’s momentous events, all Kat wanted was to go back to her room, breathe, and convince herself that she wasn’t dreaming. “Nah, I’m good.”

As she headed out to her car, she noticed Klement watching from the picture window. Driving away, she couldn’t stop looking in the rearview mirror. He didn’t turn away until she passed through the gate—like he wanted to make sure she was safe.

A smile tugged at her lips. For the neurotic, perfectionist dictator he was reputed to be, he was actually a nice guy.

She hoped she didn’t disappoint him.

***

Klement watched Kat’s old Subaru crawl down his driveway. He didn’t like the idea of her navigating that old thing on these roads. At least it handled better than the Kia that had made a wrong turn behind her when she arrived.

“Damn, I wish she wouldn’t have taken off so quick,” Cliff grumbled as he opened another beer. “We were just starting to hit it off.”

Klem shook his head. “She just wants to make sure she’s professional and does a good job for us. Don’t you remember being the new guy?”

Cliff nodded. So did Roderick, who said, “She really did play well. Much more energy than in the studio.”

“I think we should go ahead and do Thrashfest. We only have a week left to cancel.”

Cliff frowned. “I don’t know, man.”

Klement crossed his arms over his chest, confident in his decision. “Did you see her energy when she played ‘Bring Out Your Dead’? If she can do that on tour, we’re gold.” A vivid memory of her passionate performance flitted across his mind. The way her eyes closed and lips parted in naked bliss. Her flying hair, her rocking hips so close to his as he strummed his bass behind her. A rush of primal lust coursed through his veins.

It was a good thing, he thought, that she’d left before the guys—including him—got out of hand. Then again, now that he knew she was staying at a cheap motel… The Shady Tree was not in a safe neighborhood.

It didn’t seem practical for her to waste her money on a room. If she was a guy, he would have invited her to stay at his house with the rest of them. But her being a woman made that awkward. With two of them trying actively to get in her pants, and with his own attraction to her, increasing their proximity would only add more complications to getting this album made.

At least she’d seemed to be ignoring Cliff’s and Roderick’s advances. But, neither of them had really gotten started.

Grinding his teeth, Klement got back to the topic at hand. “Thrashfest is just a festival, not a whole tour. It’ll be a good starting point for her.”

Roderick shrugged. “Sounds reasonable.”

Cliff gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if we get booed or laughed off the stage, I’m kicking both your asses.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Klement said. “Besides, you wouldn’t dare risk your pretty face.”

The singer laughed. “Good point. Now, can we take a break from talking about work and go smoke some weed?”

“Okay.”

But no matter how many bowls they smoked, Klement couldn’t stop thinking about Kat.

Those thoughts had little to do with work.

Chapter Four

The moment she sat down on the motel bed, her phone rang. Kat looked at the caller ID and grinned.

“Hi, Kin.”

“How’d it go?”

Her friend’s curiosity oozed from the phone, and Kat drew out a suspenseful moment of silence before she spilled the news. “I got the job.”

“Well, I knew that. Klement wouldn’t have had you come all the way to Colorado if you weren’t going to get it.” Kinley laughed. “I meant, how did it go with the guys?”

“They’ve all been really nice. Klement even invited me to his house to jam with them after the first session.” Kat couldn’t hold back her excitement. “That’s when they said I got the job. Well, so far only for the studio. They’re not sure if they want me onstage with them yet.”

“And Cliff?”

Kinley’s voice had taken on a teasing tone, and Kat frowned. “He’s even hotter in person. And he flirted with me! But…” She trailed off doubtfully.

“But?” Kin prodded.

“Okay, don’t laugh. It turns out that he’s not quite the paragon I imagined. I mean, he stole my solo. And he has bad breath.” A suspicious rhythmic sound reached her ears. “Hey, I told you not to laugh!” But her own words broke off in a chuckle.

Her friend’s unmuffled laughter echoed over the line. “I’m sorry, it’s just that…if anything was going to get you over your crush, it would be him stealing your solos.”

“It’s against the code!” Kat said hotly. “Richard used to do the same goddamned thing. That’s why I broke up with him.”

Kinley’s laughter halted. “That’s not why.”

Despite the warmth of the room, Kat shivered at the truth. No, she had broken up with Richard because he was an overbearing, controlling prick. He’d tried to keep her isolated from her friends, discouraged her dreams of a music career, and had drunken temper tantrums where he broke things and called her names.

“At least I don’t hit you,” he’d used to say…until he did.

Kat changed the subject. “How are you and Quinn?”

“Wonderful.” Kin’s voice was breathless with infatuation. “I’m considering proposing.”

Kat laughed. “Isn’t that his job?”

Kinley was always trying to rebel against her femininity. She’d hated being a woman so much that it was like a chip on her shoulder—until she met Quinn.

Kat’s friend sighed. “He already did last year, remember? And the way I acted, I can’t blame him if he’s reluctant to do it again.”

When Quinn proposed, Kinley had assumed he wanted her to ditch her music career and become a housewife. She’d called him a sexist asshole and stormed off.

“How’s it going with Viciӧus?” Kat asked, changing the subject.

“Great! I actually wrote some solos, and they’re going to put them on the album!” Kinley’s voice sobered. “And it looks like I’m going to be joining you guys for Thrashfest, though not under happy circumstances.”

Kat’s chest tightened. “What happened?”

“Curt had a relapse.”

Her friend’s sorrow was tangible even over the phone.

“Oh.”

Kat paused and considered for a moment how their two lives had been changed by the shenanigans of two successful musicians. Curt had been Lefty’s best friend and fellow cocaine addict. He’d checked into rehab immediately after Bleeding Vengeance’s Lefty died of an overdose beside him, which is when Kinley stepped up and finished the tour with Viciӧus in Curt’s place. She’d also been with them in the studio, helping record the new album. But while her relationship with the lead singer of Viciӧus was cemented, her position with the band remained ambiguous. So, Kinley’s experience was like Kat’s. Stepping into the shoes of a legend was terrifying, especially since the fact that they were already known for their website made them subject to all sorts of scrutiny from the metal fanbase.

Kat took a deep breath and asked the question that had weighed in her gut the moment she’d got the job with Bleeding Vengeance. “How are the fans treating you?”

“Oh, some of them are still calling me Yoko and threatening to boycott the band until Curt comes back.” Kinley sounded tired. “I get called a cunt, a talentless whore who should get my ass back in the kitchen, blah blah blah.”

Kat cringed. “Shit, that sucks.”

Kin’s voice lightened. “Yeah, but you know what? I’m not taking it as hard as I used to. Did you know that Viciӧus had another lead guitarist before Curt?”

“No way.” Kat couldn’t recall hearing that, but then again, Kinley had always liked Viciӧus better than she did.

“Yeah, he left before their first album released. He even has some writing credits on it.”

“Oh? What happened to him?”

“He decided he didn’t like metal and joined up with another band to do some sort of Latin project,” Kin answered. “Anyway, some people are still trashing Curt and wanting that guy back. Hell, some are praising me and saying Curt sucks. There are so many different opinions, I can’t please everyone, and eventually I stopped giving a shit.”

Kat felt a wave of relief. She remembered how devastated Kinley had been when she read the online commentaries about her temporarily joining Viciӧus.

“So,” Kinley said. “How did the rest of it go? Aside from Cliff’s solo-bogarting and bad breath? What did you think of Roderick and Klement?”

Kat paced the small motel room, smiling at the memory of meeting the guys in Bleeding Vengeance. “Roderick seemed nice. And I love his accent.”

“Yeah, all the ladies do.”

“And Klement’s a lot taller than I expected.” Kat closed her eyes and relived their first in-person encounter, trying to find the right words to describe him. “He kinda looks like a geeky Viking.”

Kinley burst out laughing. “A geeky Viking? I guess that fits.”

“Yeah. Anyway, he’s definitely as neurotic and bossy as people say, but with only good intentions. He also seems to work harder than the other two, so I guess he has a right to be picky on the details.” Kat flopped on the bed and described her impression of his house, his guitars, and his determination that the band stay away from anything harder than booze or weed. Only after rambling for nearly ten minutes did she stop. “Sorry. I’ve been such a chatterbox!”

“I understand. And I’m excited for you.” For a moment Kinley sounded like she was about to laugh again. “But, I do have to go. I need to finish up my post on the site before Quinn and I start packing for the tour. By the way, I checked the site after you texted me. That new comments thingie is working great. Tell IT Guy thanks for me.”

This time, Kat bit back a chuckle. Kin avoided talking to IT Guy if she could help it. “I will.”

As reading her mind Kinley said, “And thank you for dealing with him for me. He drives me crazy. Anyway, I’ll talk to you soon. And just remember, you’re an amazing guitarist and you deserve to be where you are. Don’t let anyone convince you any different.”

After Kin hung up, silence flooded the motel room like a cold draft, washing away the closeness and warmth of talking with a friend. Once more Kat was alone in a strange city, thousands of miles from friends or family.

She shivered and rolled off the bed to grab something long-sleeved from one of her bags of clothes. She’d packed for a month, just in case. The purple cashmere sweater helped a bit, with its familiar smell and soothing texture. Kat reminded herself that she was here for a good reason and that she deserved to be here, like Kinley said.

Firing up her laptop, she browsed for news in the metal world that could be good material for the blog. When she saw an article about Thrashfest, which Kinley had mentioned, she couldn’t resist clicking the link. God, she’d forgotten all about the two-day festival that was coming up in three weeks. Held exclusively at the Alpine Valley Music Theater, it featured the titans of metal. Though, not all of them played thrash metal. Dante Deity, an icon of power metal, was one of the headliners, and there would be a few punk and death metal acts in attendance as well. Kat and Kinley had attended since its inception. When they were seventeen, they’d ended up hitchhiking with a bunch of older metal-heads. When their parents found out, they were grounded for a month.

Looking at the site, Kat saw Kinley was right. Bleeding Vengeance hadn’t dropped off the roster, and the comments section was going crazy about it, speculating on who would be their guitarist. Why hadn’t Klement and the guys mentioned this? Were they checking out other guitarists? Or were they considering letting her join them onstage?

Her stomach churned. Metal fans everywhere were still mourning Lefty’s death and arguing about who would be the best man to join Bleeding Vengeance. How would they react when they found out she was with them in the studio?

She tried to repeat Kinley’s words, I can’t please everyone. I stopped giving a shit.

With shaking hands, she closed her laptop and opened her guitar case. The only way she’d have to worry about outcries from the fans would be if she proved herself worthy of joining the band.

Plopping back on the bed, she practiced tomorrow’s songs.

***

From the window of his hotel room, Richard watched Kat pull into the lot. For a moment it seemed that she glanced in his direction as she headed to her room, and he held his breath, not exhaling until her head dipped to her purse and she dug around for her key card.

Fury returned. While she’d been at that log mansion, he’d called the recording studio, pretending to be a producer wanting to schedule a band for sessions.

“I’m sorry,” the desk guy told him. “But Bleeding Vengeance has reserved the place until the sixteenth.”

Bleeding fucking Vengeance?

Richard and Kat had first gotten together when they found out they had the same favorite band. He’d even been amused at all the posters she had—except for one. A close-up of a shirtless Cliff Tracey held the honored position in her bedroom, over the door to the hall. He’d always covered it with a towel when he came over, vowing that once he convinced Kat to move in with him the damn thing was going in the fireplace. Instead, she’d broken up with him, and now she was spending time with more than just a poster.

At least that hadn’t been Cliff’s mansion she was at. A little more research on Google had revealed that the place belonged to the bassist. Richard was pretty sure the guy was a fag. During all of the appearances and shows Bleeding Vengeance had done, he’d never been seen with a chick. Still, it was grating enough knowing that she had somehow managed to get a job with them in the fucking studio—a job that ended with her being invited to the bassist’s house.

Richard leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as a disturbing thought surfaced.

Bleeding Vengeance needed a new guitarist. She wasn’t in the band, was she?

He shook his head. No, it took a man to play their riffs. Kat was damn good for a girl, but there was no way they’d let her on a stage. She was probably even only in the studio because one of them wanted to fuck her.

Probably Cliff.

Unless… Richard froze. Maybe she’d already been fucking Cliff. Maybe that’s why she’d broken up with him in the first place. He didn’t for a minute believe her bullshit story about him scaring her with his yelling and not wanting to be like her mother. He wasn’t even convinced that it was because he’d hit her. Really, it was only that once, and he’d been drunk and she knew that she’d pissed him off. He’d apologized until he was out of breath. He’d even bought her a dozen roses. No, there had to be another guy involved, and it looked like that guy was in Bleeding Vengeance. The band had been in Spokane only a year ago, when they’d opened for Viciӧus.

His fists clenched, and he punched the windowsill. “I knew it!”

The bass player with the fancy rustic mansion might be gay, but everyone knew that he was the real authority behind the band. He was also, by all accounts, an anal perfectionist. So he wouldn’t take kindly to Kat disrupting their schedule by not showing up at the studio tomorrow.

Richard smiled, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a knife.

Chapter Five

“Son of a bitch!” Kat groaned as she lugged her guitar out to her car. Morning sunlight glinted cheerfully off the rim of the rear tire. It was flat as a pancake, and she had to be at the studio in twenty minutes.

Her curses became a rhythmic mantra as she popped the trunk for the jack and spare. Only her second day on the job and she was going to be late. That would not reflect well on her. She was so stressed at the prospect that she had the wheel almost fully jacked up before realizing she’d forgotten to crack the lug nuts loose.

“Shit!” she panted and lowered the jack.

Hands trembling, it took her a little longer than usual to put on the spare. Though, at least she had a full-size tire instead of those stupid doughnuts that you couldn’t take over twenty five miles an hour. It came in handy as she sped down the Denver streets, eyes darting back and forth from the racing dash clock to the rearview mirror, checking for cops. The last thing she needed was a ticket.

Her phone buzzed and chimed the bass line for “Bring out your Dead,” the ringtone she’d set for Klement when he first began sending her music files, but she never could manage to drive a stick and talk on the phone at the same time, so she let it ring, tension mounting with every thrumming note.

A thousand worst-case scenarios played in her head as she pressed her foot down on the accelerator. He was probably pissed that she was late and not answering. What if he yelled at her? What if he thought she was irresponsible? Oh, Christ, what if he fired her? What if, what if, what if…? The shriek in her mind was deafening. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she felt a low-grade panic attack surfacing. And she’d forgotten to take her Xanax, too.

She practically cried in relief as she pulled into the studio parking lot. The dash clock read ten-eighteen. She was over fifteen minutes late. Her stomach roiled. She’d always been OCD about punctuality. It seemed Klement was, too.

Dread prickled her spine as she saw him pacing back and forth in front of the studio, his phone in his hand. Digging into her purse, she pulled out her medicine and checked the seat for a bottle of water. Finding none, she got out and checked the back seat.

“Thank God,” she murmured as she glimpsed a half-full bottle on the floorboard. The water was warm and her hands were filthy from changing the tire, but she didn’t care. She needed to take her pill now, before she went into full freak-out mode.

Klement’s voice rumbled behind her. “What took you so long?”

The pill bottle slipped from her fingers and clattered to the asphalt. She turned and watched as he bent down, and his long fingers curled around the bottle. Eyes narrowed, he read the label.

“What are these for?”

His fist moved forward. Kat’s eyes squeezed shut, and her arms flew up to protect her face.

“Hey,” Klement said softly. “Relax, I’m just giving them back to you.”

She opened her eyes, face burning with embarrassment as she took the medicine. “I have PTSD,” she said, barely above a whisper. “The Xanax helps my anxiety.”

Raw compassion glinted in his eyes. “Shit, that sucks. What from?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

The response had been automatic, yet part of her had a strange urge to tell him.

He gave a respectful nod. “I’m sorry for asking. That was probably insensitive.”

She dismissed the apology with a wave. “I’m sorry for being late.”

His gaze dropped to her grimy hands. “Car trouble?”

She nodded and wiped her palms on her jeans. “I had a flat. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I thought I’d get it fixed in time.”

“No problem. I figured something happened. You’ve always been— I mean, you’ve always seemed punctual to me.” He ran a hand through his long, golden hair, looking suddenly shy. “So, take a few deep breaths, take your Xanax, and we’ll get your session going.”

He picked up her guitar case and headed toward the building, slowing his long strides so she could keep up. When they got inside, Cliff had his phone in his hand and was ranting to Roderick about something he’d read off it.

“Can you believe this motherfucker?” He jabbed the air with his finger, punctuating his ire. “He says my voice sounds like a rabid Saint Bernard. And that I should have died instead of Lefty.”

Roderick whistled. “Man, that’s cold.”

Klement shook his head. “You’re still going on about that guy? I told you, he’s a troll. Don’t feed him.”

“But he’s talking shit on every site. Especially on Metalness. I mean, what the hell is his problem?” the singer whined. “C’mon, Klem, can’t you track him down and give him a virus or something?”

“Possibly, but it’s not worth my time. Besides, your fans will defend your honor.” He handed Kat her guitar case and fiddled with a button on his shirt. “Just stay off the Internet for awhile.”

Cliff glanced back down at his phone. “He’s also calling you a fag.”

The bassist laughed. “Oh, the old, ‘Klement is gay’ thing? That one never goes anywhere. And if it did, I still wouldn’t give a shit. It has no bearing on my playing.”

Kat bit back a gasp. Some people thought he was gay? True, her gaydar wasn’t right a hundred percent of the time, but she didn’t get that vibe off of him at all. Not that it mattered one way or another…right?

“Fine,” Cliff grumbled. Then he noticed her and brightened. “Oh, hi Kat. We were wondering when you were going to show up.”

“My car had a flat tire,” she said, marveling that someone would dare mock Cliff and Klement. “I still need to wash my hands.”

He favored her with a smile that should have made her melt. “Okay. Meet me in the third room on the left when you’re done.”

Kat headed to the bathroom and scrubbed her hands. She followed Klement’s advice and took a few deep breaths. Thank God the guys didn’t seem to be mad at her for being late. Roderick appeared indifferent, Cliff was more concerned with his Internet bully, and Klement seemed to have been simply worried about her. Even though it was too soon for her Xanax to have kicked in, she felt better. Especially after combing her hair, which had been messed up from changing her tire.

Klement stopped her just outside the isolation booth. “Here.” He held out a guitar strap.

She looked up at him in surprise. It looked like one of those fancy ones advertized on her website. “What’s this for?”

“I noticed that the one you have hurts your shoulder.” He fidgeted with the strap. “This one is padded and designed to distribute the weight of your guitar more evenly than your cheapo one. It also has a better adjustment range so you can get it to fit better.”

Their fingers brushed as she took the strap. Warmth suffused her body at his kindness and generosity. Here she’d been terrified that he was angry with her, and he was giving her a present. “Thank you so much!”

“Anytime. Let me know how it works.” He shrugged and headed into the sound engineer’s booth.

Cliff had his gear hooked up and ready. “I’ve been waiting for you, doll.”

Not knowing how to respond to that aside from gagging a bit, Kat hooked up her guitar and pulled the headphones over her ears. Hopefully he’d get the hint that she was here for business, not pleasure.

Klement caught her eye through the glass of the booth. It looked like he and the sound engineer were having an argument. Finally, the sound guy spread his hand in surrender, moved a dial, and gave her and Cliff the signal to start.

The bass and drums played in her ears just as Cliff started the rhythm. Kat mentally counted the beats before entering with the lead melody. Their chords blended together seamlessly and kept time with the bass and drums playing in the headphones. So far, so good. But when it came time for her solo, Cliff suddenly abandoned the background rhythm and played her part before altering it to another set of riffs.

Kat’s jaw dropped in outrage. He’d done it again!

The bass and drums abruptly shut off through her headphones, replaced by Klement’s angry voice. “Cut! Damn it, Cliff, will you stop fucking with her solos? You’re the singer, not the lead guitarist.”

Kat silently cheered. Damn straight.

“You said you wanted to keep that set of riffs I wrote.”

Klement rolled his eyes. “Yes, but you’re not supposed to do it until the bridge after the second chorus.”

“But I thought it would sound cool here.”

Klement rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Just do it how we planned and save the improv for the writing sessions.”

“Okay,” Cliff said sullenly. “Sorry.”

The bassist waved off the apology. “All right then. From the top.”

The song began again, but this time Klement cut it off to scold her for not holding a note long enough, and it took six more takes, some interrupted by spats with the sound engineer, before he was satisfied.

“Finally,” Cliff breathed when they finished the song all the way through and a break was called. He smirked at Kat. “Are you still liking the job?”

“Actually, yes.” Sure, Klement could be a bossy taskmaster, and playing the same parts over and over again grew redundant and exhausting, but she felt like their takes improved every time. She felt like they were creating something together. Something she could take pride in being a part of.

Still, she was damn grateful for the strap Klement gave her. Her old one would have killed her shoulder by now. And they still had another song to do.

They met Klement and Roderick in a break room behind the lobby. Rod had brought lunch from a local burger joint. Kat’s stomach growled. She’d been too nervous to eat breakfast.

“My fingers hurt,” Cliff complained through a mouthful of fries.

“That’s because you don’t practice enough,” Klement said without an ounce of pity. Kat bit back a laugh, but Roderick didn’t.

Cliff flipped off his bandmates before turning to her. “You did really good in there. Few musicians can survive Klement’s anal perfectionism.”

“Oh, come on, I’m not that bad,” the bassist protested.

Roderick chuckled. “You’re almost as bad as Kubrick.”

“Kubrick did films, not music.”

“Thanks,” Kat cut in before another argument erupted. “And really, he’s not that bad.”

Klement toasted her with his milkshake. “See? Now let’s get back to work.”

The next song took only four takes, maybe because Kat had clued in to most of what they wanted her to do. And Cliff seemed to have lost all urge to get creative. Still, she was relieved when they were done for the day. Even her fingers were getting sore.

Cliff high-fived her before they bent to unhook their gear. “Great job. Rod and I are going out for beers and pizza. Wanna join us?”

The idea of having beers with Cliff Tracey and Roderick Powell would have made her squeal in delight only days ago, but now all she could think about was getting back to her room and practicing like a fiend to be good enough to tour with them. “No, thanks. I have to do some work on the website.”

“You sure?” Cliff’s mouth twisted like she was speaking a foreign language.

“Yeah, but if I finish up early enough I might catch up with you guys.” Though she doubted it. She did not want to do this work with a hangover.

“I remember when I worked two jobs. It gets rough,” Cliff said. “You gotta just say ‘fuck it’ sometimes and have some fun or you’ll get burned out.” He inclined his head toward Klement, who was once more lecturing the sound guy, and whispered, “Or end up like Mister Six-jobs over there.”

“Oh, he’s not going out with you guys?” A pang of sympathy struck her for the bassist. While his bandmates were partying, he was probably going to spend his evening listening to the tracks, making adjustments, and planning tomorrow’s session. “And did you say he has six jobs?”

Klement entered the room, towering over them all. He bent and fiddled with the knobs on one of the amplifiers. “Four. I’m a workaholic.”

As if afraid to be tasked with more work, Cliff took off.

Klement picked up a discarded guitar pick from the floor and slid it around between his long fingers. “Sorry for barking at you earlier.”

“No problem.” She had to tear her gaze from his hands as she packed up. “If you don’t tell me what I’m doing wrong, I won’t get better.”

“No, I’m not apologizing for how I handle sessions.” He tapped the guitar pick on his chin. “I meant about your pills. It was none of my business, and after losing Lefty I’ve been paranoid about man-made drugs.” He smiled. “Now, if you’d had a joint, I would have made you share.”

She laughed. Kinley had told her that Klem was a bit of a stoner. “No, I can’t smoke that stuff. It gives me panic attacks.”

“That’s too bad,” he said, in the same mournful tone as every other pothead who offered to smoke with her. It was like it broke their hearts not to share.

He went back to playing with the guitar pick. “Anyway, as for today’s session, you did very well. Tomorrow I’m hoping we can get your parts done for ‘Fractured Dreamscape’ and ‘Doors to Nowhere.’”

Kat grinned, excited at her progress on the album and anxious to give them nothing but her best. “Did you want me to do ‘Fractured Dreamscape’ in G or in E?”

As they talked, she felt a warm, tingling sensation between her thighs and Kat’s face flushed even though he couldn’t see what was happening. What the hell? It wasn’t as if they were discussing anything that should turn her on.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow…”

Klement trailed off, frowning like his words didn’t match his thoughts, but after waiting a few seconds Kat didn’t think he was going to continue. Just as she headed for the door, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, why don’t you come stay at my place? I have plenty of guestrooms. Then you won’t have to pay for a hotel or go to the Laundromat.”

For a moment Kat blinked up at him in astonishment. If anyone else had grabbed her from behind she would have instantly panicked. Instead, the heat of his touch felt so good she wanted to purr.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her response. Only then did she digest his suggestion and recover her voice.

“Okay.”

“Cool.” He gave her another one of those heart-stopping smiles. “I’ll make up a room for you and you can follow me up tomorrow after your session.”

Kat’s clit began to throb. Shaking her head, she walked out of the studio as quickly as possible without looking like something was wrong. But by the time she got out to her car, her panties were soaking wet.

“What the hell is happening to me?” she whispered.

Chapter Six

Richard watched Kat’s car pull out of the studio parking lot. Damn, it looked like she wasn’t fired. But hopefully the bassist was at least upset with her.

He had enjoyed the look on her face when she walked out of her hotel room this morning. Her stupid smile had disappeared when she saw the flat. He’d also liked seeing her on her knees on the asphalt. But what pleasure he got from that dissipated when she busted out with her jack and lug wrench. Who taught that bitch to change a tire?

He ground his teeth as he spotted Cliff and the drummer—he couldn’t remember the guy’s name—head out of the building. They got into Cliff’s Lexus, and for a moment Richard was tempted to follow them. But he didn’t really need to. He knew where the prick was staying. Besides, he didn’t know how to deal with him at the moment.

As for Kat, he would just have to come up with something cleverer, more severe.

As he headed to the grocery store to pick up some sugar, he spotted something gray and flat on the side of the road. Another idea sprang to mind.

***

Klement tossed his keys on the counter and headed up to his music room to load a bowl. He’d done it. He’d invited Kat to stay with them. It was a bad idea, and he knew it. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d flinched and ducked when he’d handed her back the Xanax.

She’d said she had PTSD. Given her lack of military background, it wasn’t from one of the wars. No, from her reaction today it was dead obvious that someone had abused her, and Klem’s fists clenched with the urge to beat the living shit out of whoever had done it. Equally intense was the instinct to pull Kat into his arms and shield her from further harm. The thought of her being alone in a seedy motel rankled even further.

Willing himself to calm down, he took another hit off his pipe and focused on the matter at hand. At least with her staying here he had a better chance of making sure she was safe while working with the band. He didn’t like the idea of her being constantly exposed to Rod and Cliff, but at least they weren’t rapists or anything. Just in case, he’d put her in the farthest room from theirs…and closest to his.

He took another hit and headed downstairs to his office. After logging in to Alpha Tech Services, his tech support server, he messaged Kat. After all, he needed to see how the new software was working. He wished he could call her, but after all their work today he didn’t want to run the risk of her recognizing his voice.

Hey, it’s IT Guy, he typed. My phone died, but I just wanted to check in. How’s my comment program working?

He frowned as he waited for a response. Had she changed her mind after all and gone out with the guys? That wouldn’t matter. She had the right to get out and have some fun after the hard workday, but…

A tightness in his chest eased as she replied.

It’s fantastic! I can’t thank you enough! All the spammers are gone! A half dozen smiley faces littered the chat box.

Grinning at her exuberance, he typed, How was your second day at the studio?

Great. Klement is a big perfectionist, but he said I did a good job. He’s the bassist but also the boss of the band. Still, it took a ton of tries to get the songs the way he wanted them. I was there for six hours and only got two songs done.

Perfectionist? That was true enough, but did she mean that in a good way or a bad way? He wished again that he could hear her voice and be able to discern her tone.

Wow, that’s a long time. It was a generic response, but he couldn’t think of much more to say and maintain a façade of industry ignorance.

Kat continued. Part of what took so long was that Cliff kept trying to steal my solos. He did the same thing while we were jamming at Klement’s.

Klement smirked as he replied. What a jerk. Did you tell him to back off and let you do your job? Although he was well aware that she hadn’t said anything, he wanted to know why.

Hell no. I’m worried that if I call out the lead singer, I might not get to keep the job. Besides, the bassist told him to knock it off.

Klement nodded at the screen. Her lack of confidence was an issue. Still, you should assert yourself more. They should respect you more.

It took a while for Kat to answer. That’s a good point. Thanks for the advice. Now I gotta get back to work. Thanks again for fixing the site!

Klem tapped his pen on his desk with irritation. He couldn’t decide whether that had been a polite blow-off of his advice, or if she’d actually taken his words to heart.

Logging off of the site and closing the message box, he felt a twinge of guilt for continuing the deception. It was almost like he was spying on her. Actually, that’s exactly what this was, and he shook his head with disgust. From now on he’d keep his tech conversations strictly about her website and computer.

He stretched and went downstairs to the bedrooms to get Kat’s ready. The one next to the master was smaller than the others, with only a queen bed and a dresser, but it seemed cozy enough with a TV, small desk, and plenty of closet space for her clothes. The only thing he didn’t like was that it didn’t have an adjoining bathroom. But the guys had taken those.

He patted the light blue bedspread to test its softness…and coughed as a puff of dust flew up in his face. Shit, he would have to wash all the bedding. And after he stripped the bed and headed down to the laundry room, it occurred to him that he should probably also buy some food. And he should definitely clean the kitchen while he was at it.

By the time Rod and Cliff returned from the bar, he was on his fourth cup of coffee and mopping the floors.

“What’s with the cleaning spree?” Rod asked.

“I decided to have Kat stay with us.”

Cliff waggled his eyebrows. “Sweet. Can she sleep in my room?”

Klement rolled his eyes. “I have seven guest rooms. She’s getting her own.”

“Hey.” Roderick leaned against the counter, eyes narrowed. “How come you cleaned for her? You didn’t do that for us.”

Why had he done that? He had no answer, so Klement resorted to an excuse that would placate them. “I meant to do it before you guys showed up, but I got baked and forgot.”

The guys laughed, completely buying it. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

The buzzer for the driveway gate sounded. Klement walked over to the intercom and pushed the button.

“Yeah?”

“Package for Cliff Tracey.”

“What is it?”

The voice was gruff and impatient. “Don’t know.”

“Okay, hold on a second.” He pressed the button to open the gate and turned to Cliff. “You expecting anything?”

“No, but it’s probably from Jen. She’s still not over me.” The singer’s mouth curved in a cocky grin. “Or maybe Sarah. She knows I stay here when I’m working on an album.”

Klement rolled his eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t tell your chicks where I live.”

Cliff put his hands up. “I don’t, I swear. I just figured that some might have gotten obsessive enough to follow me.” He walked off to answer the door.

Roderick shrugged and rummaged through the cupboards and found a bag of chips. “Man, we need to go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

“Fuck.” Klement slapped his forehead. “I knew I forgot something.” He didn’t want Kat to see his empty pantry.

“Hey!” they heard Cliff yell. “Shouldn’t I sign for this?” A moment later, the singer wandered back into the kitchen carrying a box and shaking his head. “Damn, that guy took off fast.”

“It’s late,” Rod said through a mouthful of Doritos. “You were probably his last stop and he wants to get to a party or something.”

Klement nodded. “So, what’s in the box?”

“I don’t know.”

It looked like it came from the bakery, just a plain white box with no logo or anything. As Cliff opened it, Klement noticed that it also had no address label. But before he could say anything, Cliff dropped the box on the counter and drew back in horror.

“Jesus Christ!”

Rod leaned forward and gagged. He dashed to the sink and threw up.

Taking a deep breath, Klement slowly approached the box. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a dead cat.

Chapter Seven

Somehow Klement managed to keep his gorge down as he looked at the cat’s remains. Thank Christ it wasn’t one of his. Flea was black-and-white with medium long hair and yellow eyes. Geddy was a fluffy rich chocolate with white patches and a feather-duster tail. The one in the box was grey. And from the look of the poor animal, it had been hit by a car rather than suffered malicious torture or poisoning. A small relief.

Still, it hurt to see a dead animal. He loved cats. And who the fuck would send a dead cat to Cliff? That was, like, serial killer shit.

While the other two stood pale and shaking in the corners, Klement closed the box. “Did you get a good look at the guy who delivered it?”

Cliff shook his head. “He just looked like a regular delivery guy. It was dark and he was already heading back down the driveway.”

“What about his car?”

“Didn’t get a look at that at all.”

The singer resembled a deer in the headlights. Klement clapped a hand on his shoulder and said, “It’s okay, I’ll check the security cameras and see if I can get a plate number.”

Roderick rinsed his mouth before turning on the garbage disposal and cleaning his puke out of the sink. “Sorry about the mess, mate.”

Klement nodded and turned back to Cliff. “Do you still think it was one of your exes? Or are you already making a move on someone else’s girl?”

Cliff crossed his arms, automatically defensive. “Jesus, even I don’t move that fast unless we’re on the road.” Glancing back at the box, he let his shoulders slump. “I don’t know, man, none of them seemed this crazy, but you know women.”

Roderick pointed a trembling finger at the box. “What are we going to do with that? And should we call the cops?”

“No way, man.” Cliff waved his hands like a goalie blocking a ball. “I don’t need this shit getting in the news. And we don’t want them bothering Klement’s girls. He may be good with the medical marijuana requirements and have his dispensary license, but you know they’ll take one look at us and know he’s also using for recreation.”

Klement shook his head. His friends were more important to him than his crop. “I’m calling them anyway.”

Of course, the cops weren’t able to do much except agree that the cat was likely roadkill. They couldn’t find any prints on the box. They asked about suspects and motives, which, aside from Cliff’s ex-girlfriends, there weren’t any. Then they wrote down some info and took the copy of the security footage Klement made and went on their way. They didn’t seem inclined to do any snooping around the rest of his house, much less go near his grow room.

He buried the cat in his backyard beside an aspen tree then lured his own two cats inside with a can of tuna that had miraculously escaped his bandmates’ notice. He didn’t like the idea of them outside with a psycho running around. As if to reassure himself, he reached down and petted both Flea and Geddy, gratified by their purring.

By the time those tasks had been accomplished, Cliff and Rod were passed out in their rooms and he was too exhausted to do anything else but follow suit. The next morning he headed early to the studio.

Kat pulled up beside him shortly after he got out of his truck. After last night’s horror, it was a balm on his soul to see her smile as she exited her little car. He stood a moment and simply drank her in, admiring the obsidian sheen of her hair in the morning sunlight, the sparkle of her dark eyes, and how petite and utterly adorable she was. Funny, he’d only been into tall chicks before.

“Hey.” He strode over to her, drawn like a magnet. “How was your night?”

“Boring. I practiced the songs and wrote up a review on Deity’s latest album for the site.” She shifted back and forth on the pavement, still looking shy. “How about yours?”

There was no way he was going to freak her out about Cliff’s disturbing delivery. “Same here. I puttered around the house and tuned my bass. Are you all packed up to go to my place?”

She gestured to her car. He saw that the back was full of suitcases and duffel bags. A lot more than he would have thought necessary for a four-week stay.

As if sensing his scrutiny, she lifted her chin defensively. “I like having a lot of clothes.”

“That’s fine. I’m not judging.” He laughed. There was her spirit. Hopefully she was getting over all shyness around the band. “You ready to shred today?”

Kat opened her trunk and pulled out her guitar. “You know I am.”

The session went even better than the last. Without the distraction of Cliff standing next to her, Kat brought way more energy and focus to the songs. So much in fact, that Klement considered having her play yesterday’s songs again and mix them back in later. Or maybe even ditch the sound style he’d imagined for those.

Roderick stepped into the recording booth with doughnuts and coffee, eyeing Kat through the glass as she played the solo for “Fractured Dreamscape.” He grabbed an extra set of headphones and listened. “Damn, she is getting better.”

“I told you so.”

Klem couldn’t tear his eyes off of her, mesmerized by the rapidity of her dancing fingers upon the frets, her poise like a goddess raining down divine justice on those who dared oppose her will. His cock twitched in his pants. Taking a shuddering breath, he turned to Frank, the sound engineer, to see the guy staring at him like he’d grown an extra head.

“What?”

Frank inclined his head toward the mixing board. “She’s been playing for two whole minutes and you haven’t nagged me about my levels yet.”

Klement blinked. Was he so distracted that he’d missed something? He gave Frank an indifferent shrug and picked at a fraying hole in his jeans. “Well, you have them right for now, and she’s staying on cue and hasn’t missed a single riff yet. It’s a lucky take, don’t jinx it.”

Still, he willed himself to focus on her sound alone and even fiddled with the equalizer knob just a hair on a few parts so he felt like he was on the ball. He even had her do a few more takes on the next song, though he wasn’t sure they were needed.

When she rode off with Roderick to go pick up lunch, he couldn’t seem to concentrate on Cliff’s rhythm sections. Frank actually caught more mistakes than he did. Only through sheer force of will did he make it through the takes with any hope of something worth going through mastering.

Kat and Rod returned, and he found himself examining their faces for signs that anything had gone on between them. All he could see was her smile as she handed him a sandwich.

The rest of the day was a success. They made it through two lead guitar tracks and three rhythm sections before Cliff started moaning about his fingers and Kat’s eyes glazed over, despite her apparent determination to keep working. After they unhooked their guitars and packed up the gear, Klement headed over to Kat.

“Why don’t you follow me up to my place, and then you can unpack while I go grocery shopping?”

“Sounds good.” She hefted her guitar case and followed him out of the studio.

He climbed into his Suburban and drove to the exit of the parking lot, waiting for her to pull up behind him.

Her car didn’t move.

***

Kat cursed and turned the key again. The starter cranked, but the engine sputtered and wouldn’t fire up. Dread pooled in her belly.

No, not another problem, she ranted inwardly. Not right now. Not when everything is going so well.

Klement backed up beside her and called out through his window, “You all right?”

“My fucking car won’t start,” she said.

He turned off his engine and hopped out. “Let me see.”

She got out of her car and scooted the driver’s seat back as far as it would go. He slid in, looking like a giant in a clown car. It would have made her laugh under different circumstances.

He cranked the engine, listened and frowned. “The battery seems to have enough juice. Starter’s cranking fine. Is your gas gauge accurate?”

The back of her neck prickled at his inquisitive tone, though she didn’t know why. There was just this sense of familiarity, of déjà vu. “It was working this morning.”

Twisting like a contortionist, Klem reached down and popped the hood. When he got out of the car, he absently rubbed his lower back.

Kat lifted the hood and propped it up, eager to do anything but stand there like a dork. Her lungs tightened with helpless anxiety. Klement leaned over her shoulder, and her spine tingled with heat at his proximity. The tension within her abated for a moment.

“Try to fire it up again,” Klem said.

His long hair fell to caress his cheek. It looked so soft that Kat’s fingers itched to touch it, to brush the silken lock out of his face. Instead, she got back in her car, scooting the seat back up so she could reach the clutch pedal. Making sure she was in neutral, so if it did start, she wouldn’t run him over, she held her breath and turned the key. Her little Subaru made that same sickly sputtering noise, only now it cranked slower due to the continued use of the starter draining the battery.

Panic clawed at Kat’s chest once more. What was wrong with her car? Could it be fixed? What was she going to do without a vehicle? As if confirming her trepidation, the sunlight dimmed as clouds gathered in the sky.

Klement’s voice pulled her back to shore. “For some reason, you’re not getting any fuel. Your throttle body is bone dry.” His gaze met hers through the windshield. “Are you sure you’re not out of gas?”

Her eyes narrowed. Did he think she was a moron? “I filled her up the day before yesterday and barely drove her anywhere.”

He nodded and continued inspecting the car. “Your fuel filter looks like it’s clogged.”

He walked back to his Suburban, opened the back then immediately slammed it shut. “Fuck, I left my portable toolbox in my Fury. Oh well, it looks like this one needs metric tools anyway.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m going to have it towed to my place and then we’ll be able to figure out what’s going on.”

Kat cringed. Tow trucks were expensive. “Can you take it out of my pay?”

“Don’t worry about it. I have Triple A.” He gave her a warm smile and dialed. “We want to get it in the garage before it rains.”

As they waited for the tow truck, Kat warmed further at Klement’s kindness. After all the hard work he’d done at the studio, doubtless he was anxious to go home and relax. Instead, he was stuck here with her and her broken-down car. But rather than being grumpy with her and cussing like Richard had whenever she needed his help, Klement was handling the situation with competence and an easy nature that acted like a balm on her panic.

Still, her anxiety must be showing, because he patted her shoulder.

“Relax, it’s going to be okay.”

His light touch electrified her whole body.

“Thanks.” She got her purse out of her car and took a half a Xanax.

Klement called Roderick and explained what had happened. “Can you do me a favor and pick up some groceries while we’re dealing with it?” He paused a moment and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. Thanks, man.”

He hung up and turned to Kat. “Rod’s going to get some pizza from Angelo’s on his way back. They’re a little mom-’n’-pop place that’s amazing.”

Although food was the last thing on her mind, Kat was eternally grateful for the effort to make everything okay. “Pizza sounds great. Why does Roderick always get the food?”

“Because Cliff always forgets something and Rod likes to drive.” Klement shrugged. “Honestly, this time I meant to do the shopping.”

The tow truck pulled in, and he strode off to talk with the guy. As Kat’s car was loaded onto the bed, he nodded in satisfaction.

“Go ahead and climb in.” He pointed at his giant Suburban. “He’s going to follow us up there.”

Climb was an apt term. Kat headed over to the passenger side of the hulking vehicle. She could barely reach the door handle, and once she got the door open, it still took a big jump to get up to the seat. Laughing, Klement grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

“I didn’t think it was that high up.”

“Just for a short person.” She grinned. “It’s not a monster truck or anything. Thank you so much for helping me with my car.”

His long fingers curled around the shifter knob, and the engine fired up with the roar that only came from Fifties classics. “I told you, it’s no big deal. It’s probably just a clogged fuel filter. Only four or five bucks. Or it might be that you need to adjust the air/fuel mixture. Old cars like this don’t like the elevation up here.”

As he rattled off his theories, Kat felt another pulse in her core. She was wet again. Jerking her face to the window so he wouldn’t see her blush, she realized that, whatever this was, it had only to do with him. She remained in stunned silence the rest of the way to his house.

Klement had the tow-truck guy lower the car in a spot by his massive garage then opened one of the doors to reveal a collection of classic vehicles. Kat wasn’t as much into cars as Kinley, but she still found herself standing there, gaping in awe as Klem backed a big Fifties-looking car out onto the driveway. Long and sleek and black, it reminded her of the old Batmobile. She also caught glimpses of an old Volkswagen, some muscle car that looked kinda like Kinley’s Plymouth Duster, and a pickup that looked older than all of them.

Klement got out of the big black car, and she helped him push her Subaru into the garage, unable to stop staring at the enormous toolbox and plethora of shop equipment in the back. Klement yawned and stretched his arms high in the air. His tee shirt lifted so she could see a glimpse of his belly and hip-bone muscles.

“I’m going to have some coffee and smoke a bowl before I pull the filter, okay?”

Kat swallowed, mouth dry at the teasing view. “Okay.” She grabbed a few of her bags and so did he.

Cliff came out of the house, shirtless and hair wet from a shower. “You made it. Anything I can do?” He gave Kat a deliberate look and actually flexed his pecs.

She bit her lip to avoid laughing. After all the years of mooning over her poster of him, his body, impressive as it was, had no effect on her, except to notice that his abs were slightly diminished, likely from all the beer. No, instead she was still picturing that brief line of flesh Klement had exposed.

“You can grab the rest of Kat’s bags from that little green wagon.” Klem pointed back at the garage. “I’m going to get her settled in her room.”

When they entered the house, Kat bit back a gasp. The hardwood floors gleamed and the countertops sparkled. He’d cleaned the place! Had he done it for her? Warmth prickled through her at the thought.

Her room was also pristine, with a queen-sized bed adorned with a fluffy blue comforter, a rich cherry-wood dresser and matching desk and end table.

“Will this do?”

He actually looked like he was worried she wouldn’t approve. His glittering blue eyes made her suck in another breath.

“Oh yes, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He set her bags on the bed. “I’ll let you get settled while Cliff and I go puff. Let me know if you need anything.”

When the guys went upstairs to smoke weed, Kat went out on the deck and called Kinley. Her friend was the only woman she could trust to talk about whatever was going on with her body.

Just as she was about to hang up, thinking Kin was unavailable, her friend answered.

“Hey, Kat.”

Even though she was alone, Kat spoke quietly. “Hey, are you somewhere private?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Something really weird is going on.” She took a deep breath and described how she’d been talking with Klement in the studio last night and got wet out of nowhere. “He wasn’t even flirting with me or anything. Then, when I was riding with him to follow the tow truck, he was speculating about what’s wrong with my car and it happened again.”

The line was silent for a long time.

“Kinley?”

“OH MY GOD!” Kinley burst out so loud Kat had to pull the phone away from her ear. “You want him!”

“What?” Kat gasped as the words struck her. That was the logical explanation, but she usually knew when she was crushing on a guy. And she’d never become aroused just talking with one about regular stuff. She’d always needed some flirting, some foreplay. Plus, this was Klement they were talking about. He was, for all practical purposes, her boss.

“I think I’d know if I did.” A defensive tone crept in her voice. “I mean, Klement’s cute and smart and has been very kind, but—”

Kin cut her off. “But you couldn’t stop talking about him last time and you can’t stop talking about him now. I mean, you called him a geeky Viking.”

“That wasn’t exactly a term of endearment.”

Kinley snorted. “C’mon. Comparing a guy to a Viking in any form is saying he’s a hottie.”

“But I’ve liked Cliff forever,” Kat protested feebly, even as she realized how silly it sounded to argue about it.

“And now?”

Kat closed her eyes and thought of her last few days with the singer she’d used to pine for. She felt absolutely nothing. “There’s zero chemistry between us.” She shook her head at her own fickle emotions. “I mean, he stole my solo.” Kinley laughed as Kat continued on, explaining the real source of her anxiety. “But I was relieved about my infatuation for one of the band members going away because that guaranteed I’d stay professional.” And now it seemed she’d become infatuated with one of the others.

More laughter echoed across the line. “Good luck with that.”

“It’s not funny.” She thought about Kinley’s words and then her reaction to Klement. She thought of his smile, his kindness, his tall, lean body and gorgeous hair. Her heart clenched and her stomach fluttered in a way she could no longer deny. “Fuck, Kin. You’re right. I have it for him big-time. What the hell should I do?”

“How should I know? I’m not exactly an expert on this sort of thing.”

Kat gritted her teeth. “You ended up working for your favorite band and had a crush on the lead singer. You’re with him now, and he’s head over heels in love with you. How does that not make you an expert?”

Kinley sighed. “Yeah, well, I had no clue what I was doing. Things just happened. And Quinn was the one who made the first move.”

“So I should see if Klement makes the first move?” Doubt curled in Kat’s belly. She didn’t even know if he liked her that way.

“Again, I have no idea. All I know is that it’s going to make the job awkward no matter what happens, because those feelings don’t just go away. I’m also relieved that it’s Klement you’re attracted to. Cliff didn’t strike me as the sharpest crayon in the box. And he’s a man-whore. Klement may be kinda crazy and neurotic, and with the height difference you guys would look funny together, but he’s definitely the nicest and smartest of the bunch.”

“Oh, definitely.” Kat agreed heartily. “Did I tell you that he’s not letting me pay him back for towing my car? And that he cleaned his house before I came? And he talked me down from a panic attack although he didn’t know I was starting to have one, and—”

Kinley cut her off. “Yeah, yeah. He’s a knight in shining armor. Anyway, I gotta go. We’re on the road to Portland.”

The sliding glass door opened behind Kat, and she turned to see the subject of her fixation. Even though he couldn’t have heard her, her face heated.

“You ready to take a look at your car?”

She closed her eyes, hoping to wipe the dopey look off her face. “Yeah.”

Following him out to his enormous garage, she was still in awe at his massive collection of cars and tools. Was there anything this guy didn’t dabble with?

“The first thing I’m going to do is check that fuel filter.” He opened a drawer in his gargantuan toolbox and pulled out a screwdriver. After popping the hood, he removed the hose clamps from the fuel filter. The sharp smell of gasoline permeated the shop.

“What the fuck?” Klement whispered as he held up the filter to the shop light.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s sticky.” He turned the filter in his hands, smelled it, and wiped his fingers on his jeans. “I think someone put sugar in your gas tank.”

Kat’s jaw dropped. That was the last thing she’d expected to hear. “What?”

Instead of answering, Klement walked around to the back of the car and opened the hatch door. Hefting her flat tire out of the rear compartment, he examined the rubber with piercing concentration. “It also looks like they popped this tire with a knife.”

“What the hell?” Kat said. “Why would someone do that?”

“No clue.” Klement frowned at the tire before giving her a sharp look. “Do you have any enemies here?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t even know anyone around here, and I’m over a thousand miles from home.” The only possible enemy she could think of was her ex, and there was no way he could have followed her here.

Was there?

The concept sounded so ridiculous that she changed the subject.

“So, what’s it going to take to fix?” Her throat tightened as she asked the dreaded question. “Can she be fixed?”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Klement frowned. “Yeah, but it’ll be a pain in the ass. We’re going to have to take off your throttle body, flush it out, clean your fuel lines, and probably drop your gas tank.” He shrugged and brushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “And we’re definitely going to need to replace that injector.”

“Oh my God.” He made it sound so simple, but how the hell was she going to afford it? True, she was getting paid a lot for this recording job, but she’d planned on giving a big chunk of that to her mom.

Klement looked at her stricken face, and his voice softened. “It’s a good thing you have an old car. If it was a newer model, you’d be screwed. But we can fix this. In the meantime, you can ride with me to the studio. I’m also going to call the police and file a report.”

“The police?” Kat’s throat tightened as memories of a uniformed monster loomed over her with giant fists.

Klement’s tone turned hard. “Yeah, I don’t have high hopes, but I want to do everything I can to catch the bastard who did this.” His brows drew together as he looked at her. “What’s wrong? You look pale all of a sudden.”

“It’s nothing.” She fought to regain composure. “I’m just shaken up.”

He reached out and placed a warm, steadying hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Katana.”

Tears prickled her eyes at his kindness. It wasn’t his fault she had an unnatural phobia of cops. He really wanted to do everything he could to help her. Aside from her stepdad, no man had ever been that way with her.

Unable to help herself, she threw her arms around Klement. “Thank you,” she choked out. “Thank you so much.”

For a moment he stiffened in her embrace. Then, before she could pull back and apologize for jumping on him, Klement squeezed her tightly and rested his chin on the top of her head. His hand lightly caressed her lower back. “It’s going to be fine,” he assured her again.

A measure of her panic eased in the heat of his embrace. He felt strong, secure, and he had a nice clean smell, almost like fresh-baked bread. In his arms, Kat felt safe. If she hadn’t had a crush on him before, she certainly did now.

Gently, he pulled away, leaving her feeling bereft and empty. “I hear Rod pulling up with the groceries and pizza.”

“Uh-huh,” she stammered.

So much for staying professional.

Chapter Eight

Klement turned away from Kat, digging his nails into his palms. Hopefully the pain would make his raging erection go away. God, she’d felt so good in his arms. So soft and sweet-smelling, like honeysuckle. It was all he could do not to pick her up, lay her across the hood of one of his cars, and tear her clothes off with his teeth.

The savage urge surprised him and made him feel guilty. Kat was vulnerable and clearly under a lot of stress. The last thing she needed was for him to add to it by complicating their working relationship. He could feel her presence behind him, a tangible heat that ever tempted him to draw closer.

“You should head on inside. I’ll help Rod with the groceries.”

She nodded. He had to fight not to watch her walk away—or worse, follow her.

By the time he met Rod in the driveway, he had a measure of his lust under control.

“So, what’s the verdict on her car?” the drummer asked as they unloaded the groceries.

Klement kicked a pinecone. “Sugar in the gas tank.”

Rod’s brows rose. “No shit?” A million questions danced in his eyes, but Klement silenced him with a minute shake of his head.

“Yeah, and her tire wasn’t a normal flat. It’s got an obvious knife puncture. I’m on my way in to call the cops.”

“Again?”

“Damn straight.”

He chewed on the inside of his lip. First Cliff had gotten roadkill delivered to him, and now someone tampered with Kat’s car at the studio? Had the culprit somehow mistaken her vehicle for Cliff’s? Looking at the old Subaru wagon, it was doubtful. Then again, Cliff had been riding with Roderick because he was too much of a city boy to be able to handle the road up to Klement’s house. Regardless, Klem was determined to keep a close eye on both of them for the time being.

Kat would be easy since she was now relatively safe under his roof and would be riding with him. Cliff was a different story. He wouldn’t want to stay put here, and Klement had no inclination to follow him like a babysitter. But at least he could check out his security camera footage and find out who’d delivered the dead cat. And Rod could probably help.

“Hey, Rod?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you keep an eye on Cliff when he’s going out drinking, see if it looks like anyone’s following him or anything suspicious?”

“Sure thing.” Flicking a toothpick around with his tongue, the drummer gave Klement a look. “You don’t think there’s a connection between him and Kat, do you?”

“No,” Klem said vehemently.

Roderick gave him an odd look. “How do you know?”

Klement couldn’t tell him that he’d been chatting with her as his alternate identity and thus knew she’d stayed in both nights. His tech relationship with Kat was his secret. “Because Cliff would have been bragging about it non-stop.”

“Oh yeah. It looks like he owes me ten bucks.” The drummer grinned. “I’d be more cheerful about it, but it seems like she’s not interested in me either. What about you?”

“What about me?” Klement forced a nonchalant tone.

“You got to spend some time with her…” Rod trailed off with a wink.

Klement’s feelings about Kat were none of anyone’s business. He forced a derisive laugh. “Dude, her car was broken down.”

“Right.” Roderick paused. “Do you think maybe she let the word get out that she’s our new recording musician? Maybe some hardcore fan is pissed and taking it out on her—and on Cliff, too. Because he’s the front man, they could be blaming him for your decision to hire her.”

“That might be what’s going on,” Klement allowed. There had been nothing on Kat and Kinley’s blog about it, but she might have spilled to the wrong person. Or others might have. “I’ll ask her about it later tonight.”

Arms laden with shopping bags and steaming pizza boxes, they headed into the house. While Cliff and Rod put away the groceries, Klement called the police. Then all of them dug into the pizza.

Klement couldn’t hold back a smile at Kat’s blissful expression. Angelo’s made the best.

The gate buzzer sounded just as he finished his last slice. Klement checked the camera to verify that it was indeed the cops and not the stalker before he pushed the button to let them in.

“Mr. Burke, we meet again.”

Officer Shaw, the silver-haired cop he’d met last night, surveyed Klement with those steely eyes that only longtime veterans on the job seemed to have, and Klement fought back a sense of instinctive guilt. His younger troublemaking days were long since over.

“Yes.” He extended his hand and they shook. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

Shaw inclined his head to his colleague, who looked to be fresh out of the academy. “This is Officer Tyson.”

Tyson didn’t shake hands because he was too busy gaping at Klement’s garage. Shaw frowned and subtly nudged him.

“Oh, yes. It is a pleasure to meet you. Where is the car that was tampered with?”

Klement beckoned Kat and led the group out to the garage. As he showed them the sticky fuel filter and the punctured tire, he noticed that Kat was huddled at the edge of the garage door, looking like she was ready to dart at any moment. When the police questioned her on possible motives and suspects, her face was chalk-white and she stuttered a few times.

Why was she so nervous? If he hadn’t seen how much she valued that old car, he might have wondered if she’d done it herself.

Officer Shaw also noticed her apprehension. “Are you all right, Miss James?”

She took a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, I’m just terrified at the idea that someone would do this, and I don’t know who. I’ve never been to Denver before. I don’t know anyone here. It could be anyone.”

It was all Klement could do not to pull her into his arms when her voice broke.

Officer Shaw eyed her closely. “Mr. Burke told me over the phone that he thinks it might be a crazed fan, upset with your new position with their band. What do you think?”

Kat nodded. “A ton of people would be pissed if they knew. Lefty Swanson was one of the greatest guitar players who ever lived. I’m a nobody. Even worse, I’m a girl.”

Her casual dismissal of her value infuriated Klement. “You are not a nobody, Katana.” He turned back to the cops. “If you heard her play, you’d understand why I hired her.”

Officer Tyson perked up, but his partner stuck to the matter at hand. “Do you have any sexual or romantic involvement with Cliff Tracey?”

“Hell, no.” Kat shook her head so vigorously that Klement couldn’t help but smile. “For one thing, I’m here on business. For another, he stole my solo.”

Tyson laughed, and even Shaw cracked a smile before continuing. “The reason I ask is that Mr. Tracey has had some vindictive exes. Do you have one of those?”

“I haven’t been in a relationship in over six months, and I haven’t heard from him in four,” Kat answered. “I highly doubt I meant enough to Richard to follow me over a thousand miles. I’m sure he’s moved on.” She crossed her arms and finally met the policeman’s gaze. “I’m more inclined to believe that some overzealous fan found out about me and got angry.”

Officer Shaw nodded. “The problem with crazed fans is that there’s so many.” He looked back at Klement and pulled out his card. “We’ll have a patrol car drive through the neighborhood and by the studio for the time being. If you can think of any other suspects, don’t hesitate to call me.”

Before he left, he asked a few more questions and took the contaminated fuel filter and Kat’s punctured tire as evidence. When the pair was gone, Kat visibly relaxed.

“You okay?” Klement asked.

“Yeah, I just had a bad experience with cops a long time ago.”

Without elaborating, she headed back to the house. Klement followed with a frown. Kat lived in a small town in Idaho, hardly a place known for police brutality or anything.

She, Klem, Cliff and Roderick all headed up to the music room and practiced the next day’s songs, and he saw Kat’s mood improve. She was clearly more confident and relaxed than the first time, and it brought a wealth of improvement to their joined music.

For the first time in over a year, they felt like a band again. The dynamic didn’t feel like it had with Lefty. It was different but no less powerful, and so, as Cliff sang the last note of “Reckoning,” Klement made up his mind. Tomorrow, he would tell Kat about his decision to have her join them for Thrashfest. His resolve was bittersweet. While he was glad to see her succeed and wanted her talent to help shape the band, he also knew the rest of the ramifications of the decision. But he didn’t want to dwell on them now.

Clearing his throat, he addressed Kat and the guys. “I want to try ‘Yesterday’s Angst’ with that tune you were playing during our first talks back in February.”

Her head cocked to the side as she scratched his cat, Flea, behind the ears. “Which one?”

“I don’t think you named it, but it went like this.”

Klement played the hypnotic melody on his bass, and her eyes lit up with comprehension. “Oh! I didn’t remember playing that one for you.”

A jolt of unease crawled up his spine. Had he misremembered? What if she’d only played that tune when he was talking to her as IT Guy? Well, it was too late now.

“Cliff,” he said, “start the rhythm, and Kat, come in with it in three measures.”

It sounded even better than when he’d toyed around with it and the rough tracks. From the looks on Cliff and Rod’s faces, they thought the same.

“Okay,” Klement said. “I want you to do that tomorrow in the studio.”

Kat gasped and looked at him like he’d just offered her the moon. “You’re putting one of my riffs on the album?”

He just nodded and went back to plucking at his bass before she could see the way he was affected by the wonder in her eyes.

Rod saluted her with his drumstick. “Congrats, love.”

Cliff nodded. “It is a killer riff, and it fits like it was made for this song.” He smirked. “Better than the one Klement wrote.”

“Yes,” Klement admitted. “It is.”

He smiled at his bandmates’ approval. Kat was working out better every day. For some reason he felt a burst of pride, as if she were his own protégé. But she wasn’t. All he’d done was given her some songs to learn. She’d done the rest on her own.

Even though he could have kept playing for hours, the other guys became restless and detached themselves from their instruments to go downstairs and watch a movie. Klement loved movies, but right now his massive ADHD was acting up so there was no way he’d be able to sit still and focus. When he was this way, if he wasn’t doing something, he got twitchy and his mind raced like a hamster in a wheel.

Kat went down to put away her clothes and take a shower. So, to distract himself from imagining hot water cascading on her naked body, Klement went to his office and checked out the last night’s security footage, which he’d been meaning to do for some time. Unfortunately, Cliff was right. It had been too dark to discern much detail on the delivery guy. And the man had left his car at the bottom of the driveway, too far from the gate to get more than a fuzzy image.

Muttering under his breath, Klement pulled up some video editing software. He wasn’t going to be defeated so easily.

Two hours and three cups of coffee later, he’d managed to get a better outline of the guy and the car. The guy was fairly hopeless. Aside from getting a better perspective on his height and build, there were no other details to be taken. It was like the son of a bitch expected cameras and had managed to avert his face from each. But Klement had better luck with the car. With a little more sharpening and adjusting the contrast, he was able to make out an emblem.

A Kia.

Something nagged at his subconscious then drifted away.

Klement rubbed his eyes. He nearly had a plate number, and he’d formed a strategy to focus in on it using another program, but staring at the grainy images was making him dizzy. No wonder, since it was one in the morning. So, making a few notes, he closed down his computer and resolved to work on it tomorrow.

Leaving his office, he walked through his quiet house. Everyone but the cats had gone to bed, and now they were rubbing at his ankles, eager for him to lie down with them. He was happy to comply, but once he was under the covers with the somnolent rhythm of purring felines, the realization that Kat was in the next room tugged at his mind, making sleep impossible. Unable to stop his meandering thoughts, he relived the feel of her embrace, the sweet smell of her hair.

The memories quickly progressed to fantasies. Visions of him pulling off her shirt, sinking down to his knees and nuzzling her breasts tormented him. Visions of them naked and tangled together had him hard and aching.

Klement threw off the covers, whispering a quick apology to his irate cats as they jumped off the bed. He’d drunk too much coffee, that was all. Though he could write code like no one’s business when he was baked, looking at the security footage required a different sort of focus, so he’d refrained from smoking. He’d just have to work off the caffeine.

Padding down to the kitchen, he decided to bake some cupcakes. The guys loved his secret ingredient. And licking the batter would help him sleep.

***

Kat woke to a soft knock on her door. She groaned and buried her face in the soft, clean-smelling pillows. Flea meowed in protest and thumped his tail on her arm. She vaguely remembered him following her into her room after she got up to use the bathroom.

“It’s almost time to head to the studio.”

Klement’s voice made her sit up, and she blinked and rubbed her eyes. That’s not what he’d been saying to her in her dream. She much preferred the sweet nothings he’d been whispering while he—

“How do you like your coffee?” he asked, cutting off her dangerous reminiscence.

Struggling to get a hold on herself, she replied, “Half coffee, half hot chocolate—if you have any.”

“Hey, me too!” Klement’s voice rang with surprise before his footsteps faded off down the hall.

Flea jumped down and scratched at the door. Kat’s lips curved into a smile. “Aww, Klement has a sweet tooth like mine.” The realization made a goofy grin spread across her face. She wondered what else they had in common. At any rate, maybe she could bake him some cookies for helping her with the car.

Climbing out of the bed, which had felt like heaven with its fancy Posturepedic mattress, she opened the dresser to find something to wear—something that would be casual enough for the studio but flattering to her figure. Settling on a navy blue peasant top and boot-cut jeans, she then headed to the bathroom, washed her face and did a light touch of lilac eyeshadow and lip gloss before emerging.

To her disappointment, Klement wasn’t in the kitchen with the rest of the guys.

Roderick handed her a mug painted with cavorting kittens. “Here’s your coffee. Klem will be down to take you to the studio in a few. He said he had some computer work to finish up.”

“Computer work?”

Cliff nodded. “Yeah, I told you he has like six jobs. One of them is a software development company. He also grows weed for medical dispensaries, fixes up classic cars and sells them—though these days he seems to be keeping the cars more often than not—invents crazy shit and makes bank off the patents, and even still does some computer work on the side.”

The singer ticked off the list on his fingers, and Kat gaped in astonishment at Klement’s resume. “Why does he keep so busy? I mean, the band is doing really well.”

Cliff shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe he’s sexually frustrated.”

The thought came unbidden to Kat. I’d like to help him with that.

Roderick leaned his elbows on the counter. “No, it’s a lot simpler.”

Kat and Cliff looked at him expectantly.

“He’s crazier than a shithouse rat.”

All three of them burst out laughing.

Klement strode into the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffeepot. “I’m what?”

“Nothing you don’t know already.” Rod set his nearly empty cereal bowl on the floor so the cats could finish the milk.

Klem raised his mug in acceptance. “True. I know everything.” He turned to Kat. “You ready to go?”

On the drive down the hill, her thoughts chased each other like cats with laser-pointers. All of those side jobs, and he’d still made time to help her? Warm fuzzies engulfed her all the way until he pulled into the studio parking lot.

As he grabbed their guitars out of the back of the truck, he gave her a heart-stopping smile. “We’re only doing one song, so get your part right and we’ll be able to have a half day.”

“Oh.” The prospect of spending more off-time with him gave her a little thrill. “Why?”

“For one thing, I don’t want you guys getting burnt out. For another, we need to get your car fixed.” Casually he added, “And I have some news we’ll want to celebrate.”

“Ooh.” She perked up with curiosity. “What?”

Klement put a finger to his lips. “I want to wait until we’re done.”

She pouted. “All right.”

Unfortunately, the anticipation had her almost too distracted to play her riffs right. What was the news that called for celebration by a workaholic like Klement? Had the guys gotten a song on the charts? Had their last album gone platinum? Were they nominated for an award? After Klement made her start over for the third time, she sucked in a breath and forced the speculations from her mind. If she didn’t do her job, she wouldn’t prove herself worthy of continuing with them.

Finally she got her shit together and started playing better. Another wave of awe nearly overcame her. They were using something she wrote! Biting her lip, she regained her focus, and after two more takes Klement nodded in satisfaction and gestured for her to pack her gear.

“So what’s the news?” She forced herself to sound casual, even though she was bursting with curiosity.

He laughed. “Not yet.”

They met Cliff and Rod in the little break room. Both men had conspiratorial grins plastered on their faces. Kat’s pulse quickened. Whatever it was, they already knew. Dared she hope—?

“…decided we want you to do Thrashfest with us.”

Klement was talking. Too late she realized that she’d been spacing out and hadn’t caught all of what he said. Thrashfest? Really?

“Wait, what?” she choked out.

His lips curved into an amused grin. “I said, after observing your performance, we’ve decided we’re definitely going to do Thrashfest and we want you to join us. It’s in three weeks, so hopefully we’ll be done with the album by then.”

Truly? His words echoed in her ears, making her dizzy. She swayed on her feet.

Roderick cocked his head to the side. “You alright, love?”

“Yeah,” Kat whispered. “I just can’t believe it. You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed…” She trailed off and shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a dork.”

“Yes, we do know.” Cliff’s brown eyes were full of understanding. “That’s why we’re in this business.”

A sense of belonging washed over her, and Kat smiled at him. Even though the singer was a solo-stealing man-whore, he truly wasn’t a bad guy.

He reached out and patted her on the head, ruining the moment. “Just don’t try to turn us into a chick band, okay?”

She bristled, about to retort, but Roderick smacked the singer on the back of the head. “Congratulations, and welcome to Bleeding Vengeance. We were thinking of going out to The Hellion to celebrate. It’s a really badass club.”

“I’d love to!”

She resisted the urge to look back at Klement and ask if he was coming too, but it was as if he sensed she was thinking about him, and he stepped around to face her. “Now, Thrashfest is your trial. If you do well there, you’ll be hired as a full-time band member.”

The reverse was also clear. If she screwed up on stage, that was it.

Swallowing her trepidation, Kat allowed the glow of her success and optimism for the future seep in. She barely managed not to skip as she followed the band outside.

“We’ll head to my place, get a few things done and have a bite to eat before we go out,” Klement said as he loaded her guitar into his Suburban. Kat nodded, a thrill of excitement running from her head to her toes. He was going out with them tonight! What would she wear?

She smiled at the view as they drove out of Denver and headed back toward the secluded village of Dark Score. With her joy, the sun seemed brighter, the foliage greener.

“What songs are we doing tomorrow?”

“We’re not going in for the weekend,” Klement answered. “Besides, we gotta work on your car.”

A measure of Kat’s elation ebbed away. Her shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get it going again. And, if worse comes to worst, you’ll be making enough money from this gig to buy a new one.”

“I don’t want to buy a new one.” Her voice came out more pitiful than she intended. “It was my dad’s car.” Actually it had been her stepdad’s, her only real dad, and she almost clarified, but then her face flushed in embarrassment. What was it about Klem that made her want to pour out all of her baggage?

Instead of looking at her with scorn, he nodded with understanding. “It’ll be fine. We might have trouble tracking down the injector, and if the gas tank is rusted out we’re in for a whole new level of hell, but we’ll fix it.”

We. The word did funny things to Kat’s insides. He spoke as if they were a team.

Closing her eyes, she brushed off the sentimental musing. Of course he was used to talking like that; he was in a band.

When they pulled up in the driveway, he hopped out and unloaded her case. “Go on in, I’m going to the garage to get a list of what we’ll need before I call the parts stores.”

“Cool,” Kat agreed. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Something flickered in his eyes before they hardened. “Lock the door,” he said.

She couldn’t help a dopey smile at his protectiveness. “I will.”

After her shower, Kat tried to call Kinley to tell her the good news, but her friend didn’t answer. She thought about calling IT Guy to tell him, but decided to hold off until their next support call. He might think it was weird for her to call him for social reasons. She’d never done so before, and she wasn’t sure why she wanted to do so now.

Focusing on the here and now, Kat opened her closet. She wanted to wear a dress tonight. Nothing too slutty, just cute. Grinning, she settled on a black A-line with skulls all over. They’d go great with her knee-high boots.

When she met the guys in the kitchen, they whistled. Her cheeks pinkened as she sat on one of the stools at the island counter next to Klement, and Roderick served some sautéed shrimp to die for, along with a crisp salad and delicious rolls. As they ate, Klement talked about the parts he’d located for her car and how long it would take for the stores to get them in.

“Let’s smoke a bowl before we head out,” he told the guys after wiping his plate with the last bite of his bread. “You can come upstairs, too,” he told her. “You don’t have to smoke.”

Kat shook her head. “That’s okay, I wanted to text Kinley. She’s on the road with Viciӧus, so I haven’t been able to tell her the good news about Thrashfest. Also, I want to take a look at the site and make sure everything’s running fine.”

When they left her, she sent Kinley a text. While waiting for her friend to reply, she spotted a plate of chocolate cupcakes on a plate by the microwave. The plastic wrap was lifted, and it looked like a few had been eaten. Kat licked her lips. She hadn’t had chocolate in days. And if they were going out drinking, it would be good to eat something absorbent.

Unable to resist the temptation, she grabbed one.

Chapter Nine

Klement passed the pipe to Roderick.

The drummer frowned. “You’re not taking another hit?”

“Nah, I’m saving myself for a cupcake when we get back.”

Cliff’s eyes widened. “You mean, you didn’t have one yet?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m driving, remember? I’m just having a hit for now.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot.” His friend gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re missing out. The body high’s kicking in.”

Roderick nodded. “Damn. You made a potent batch this time.”

“I know.” Klement beamed. “Just licking the batter off the spoon and bowl knocked me on my ass last night.”

Cliff took the pipe from Rod and took a hit. “Which plant did you use?”

“I did a blend of Schnozberry and Sticky Wicket. And no, I’m not sharing the recipe for the bud-butter.”

Roderick laughed. “Did you call our manager about Thrashfest yet?”

Klement nodded. “Yeah, and he already contacted the booking manager. They have our rooms reserved. We’re going to be at the Alpine Valley Resort. Viciӧus, Deity, and a couple other bands will be there too.” He paused before making a suggestion that had been on his mind for awhile. “I want us to write a song in honor of Lefty’s memory.”

The others nodded, then they all spent awhile discussing lyrics, drumbeats, and measures before Klement looked at the clock and frowned. They’d left Kat downstairs alone for over a half hour. If her cute dress and brilliant smile were any indicator, she was probably anxious to go.

He ashed out the pipe. “I suppose we should go. I want to get back early. I gotta work on Kat’s car tomorrow. Meant to do some on it today.”

They went downstairs to see Kat walking slowly across the living room floor. She stared down at the polished wood, taking careful steps as if there were hidden pitfalls and bogs within the varnished pine.

Klement put a hand on her shoulder, surprised. “You okay?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes, pupils dilated. “I feel kinda dizzy and the floor looks funny.” She took a shaky step and grabbed the arm of the couch.

Klem glanced over at the kitchen counter. “Uh, you ate one of those cupcakes, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Her lower lip quivered with fear. “They’re laced, aren’t they?”

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry.” Guilt stabbed him in the gut. “I made them with THC butter for the guys. I should have told you, or put them away, or…I’m sorry,” he repeated. Behind him, Cliff and Roderick burst out laughing.

“Oh man, you’re in for one hell of a ride, girlie!”

“It’s a strong batch, love.”

Klement glared at his bandmates. “Shut the fuck up. It’s not funny. The stuff gives her panic attacks.”

“Oh shit,” Kat whimpered. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!”

Her panic visibly mounted, and Klement guided her to the couch to sit down. “I don’t think you should go anywhere tonight.”

She bit her lip and nodded.

Cliff ran a hand through his hair and shifted on his feet. “It sucks to leave her alone here when it’s supposed to be her celebration.”

Kat’s panicked gaze darted up to him, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was scared to be left alone.

“We can celebrate tomorrow,” Klement said firmly.

“But—”

He cut Cliff off. “You guys can go out, but I’m staying with her. It’s my fault she’s in this state.”

Roderick shrugged. “It’s okay, we can stay.” He approached Kat and offered a tentative smile. “Cliff and I ate some too. We can enjoy the high together.”

She looked back and forth at Cliff, Rod, and Klement. “I’m not enjoying it. I can’t breathe. I can’t…I can’t…” She trailed off and curled up in the fetal position on the couch. “Please don’t look at me. I know I’m being pathetic.”

Cliff paced around, restless. “Damn, it is hitting her hard. What should we do with her?”

“I’m right here,” she grumbled from the couch cushions.

Klement eyed her huddled form with growing worry. Her whole body shook like a leaf. “It might be best if you guys go ahead and take off to the club. I know when people are having a bad trip on something they sometimes get overwhelmed when they’re crowded. I’ll take care of her.” He placed his hand on hers. “Does that sound okay with you, Kat?”

She nodded. “I don’t want to ruin everyone’s night.”

Cliff practically ran to the door, eager as always to drink and socialize and maybe find his next conquest. Roderick just shook his head and grabbed his car keys out of his pocket. “Ring me if you need anything.” He smiled down at Kat. “Feel better soon, love.”

After the guys left, Klement lightly stroked the back of her hand. “Is it okay if I sit by you?”

“Uh-huh.”

He sat on the couch and reached over to lightly caress her back. “What do you usually do when you have a panic attack?”

“I usually take my Xanax and…”

Klem shook his head. “It’s probably not a good idea to mix it with the THC. What else?”

“I curl up in a ball and wait for it to go away. Then I listen to music, or watch a movie, practice my guitar…” She squirmed like she had a bad itch. “Can I take my boots off? They’re bugging me.”

“Of course.” He tried to ignore the way her skirt rode up on her thighs.

She fumbled with her footwear, getting more frustrated when the laces tangled in her fingers. Klement gently pushed her hands aside.

“Let me.”

He removed her boots, savoring the feel of her bare calf in his hand. “Damn,” he said, “your feet are tiny.” And adorable.

“I know. Buying shoes is a bitch.” Her shaking grew worse. “How long will it take for this stuff to wear off?”

He shrugged. “Depends on the person. For a lightweight like you, probably a few hours.”

“Hours?” she squeaked. “Oh God, I wish it would stop now! I keep seeing bad memories flashing before my eyes.”

Klement’s heart clenched in helpless agony. More than anything, he wanted to make things better. “What if you open your eyes?”

“Then I get too dizzy!” she wailed.

“I’m so sorry, Kat.” Why hadn’t he warned her not to eat one of the damn things? He rubbed her back in slow soothing circles. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Actually, this feels nice.” She took a few deep breaths, and her shaking subsided to a fine tremble. “I’m sorry I’m such a wreck.”

“No,” Klem said. “It’s all my fault.”

“Most people probably have a good time on these things, but with me it’s like a bad ’shroom trip or something. I keep seeing my father beating my mom, beating me…” Her teeth chattered. “He was a cop.”

Klement’s hand tensed on her bare shoulder. “So that’s why you were so freaked out earlier. And you keep his car?”

“No, it was my stepdad’s car. He was the one who got me into metal. Our house caught on fire, and he died saving us.”

Her voice broke in a strangled sob, and Klement winced. So that was where the PTSD came from. That, and the abuse she’d suffered. His heart clenched as the suffering emanated off of her in tangible waves. Every cell of his being surged with the need to comfort her, to protect her…

He gently pulled her onto his lap. Even though it was inappropriate and dangerous as hell, she felt like heaven in his arms.

***

Richard watched Klement Burke’s house through his binoculars.

The sight of the black 1960 Plymouth Fury just outside of the garage made him seethe with envy. When that fag bassist pulled it out to push Kat’s piece of shit car into its space, he’d had to cover his mouth to keep from screaming. He couldn’t believe anyone would bother trying to fix that fucking thing, let alone supplant a beauty with it. He’d tried to convince Kat to get rid of the Subaru and buy another car, but she stubbornly clung to it because it was her stepfather’s. Not even her real father’s. Stupid girly sentimentality.

Laughter bubbled in Richard’s throat despite his rage. Good fucking luck fixing that thing. He’d heard that sugar in the gas tank would fuck up a whole car, and sure enough, he’d watched Klement go into the garage and only spend a few minutes there before he walked out shaking his head. Now she’d have no choice but to get rid of it.

He was about to leave when he saw Cliff and the drummer—that British dude whose name he never remembered—come out of the house. Richard wondered what Cliff had thought of his present.

The two band members got into the drummer’s Hummer and took off. Richard waited awhile to see if Kat and Klement would join them, but they didn’t.

Richard rolled his eyes. Kat was probably being a hermit as usual and piddling time away on her website or practicing her guitar. He smirked. Or maybe the control freak bassist was putting her through her paces because her playing wasn’t up to his standards.

Sure, she was talented, Richard admitted, and ungodly so for a chick, but good enough to play with one of the Big Six in metal? He couldn’t fathom it. They’d probably let her in for the gimmick of having a girl in the band. Or they just liked her tits.

Thoroughly bored, he rose from the bushes and made his way through the woods bordering the road, not emerging until he reached his car, which was parked in an overgrown turnout a quarter mile away. He needed a beer. And more money.

As he drove back to Denver, he called his delivery guy the minute he got a cell signal.

“How’s the account look?”

“We sold fifteen eight balls last week and another five this week so far,” Chris said cheerfully. “We’re cooking another batch tomorrow.”

Richard did the math in his head. “So, four grand.” And he had some product of his own if he needed extra cash. But he didn’t want to risk getting busted here.

“Yup.”

“Wire me half of that.”

“Sure thing. When are you coming back?”

He ground his teeth. When I’ve made her pay. Aloud he said, “Soon. I’ll let you know.”

Once downtown, he drove around looking for a good bar. Kat’s reclusiveness had given him cabin fever. He needed to get out, see people. So he settled on a place called The Hellion that looked like it would play good music.

The club was all that it promised. With an appreciative eye, Richard walked past the black walls plastered with posters of metal shows past. The red lights gave the place a nostalgic feel, like he was stepping back to the glory days of metal, and some band was tearing up the stage with riffs and vocals that were just above mediocre but held an energy that roused the audience. Bobbing his head to the beat, Richard sidled up to the crowded bar to get a Southern Comfort with Coke.

The bartender took his order, and the guy next to him said, “Hey, that’s my favorite too. Cheers for good taste.”

Richard looked over to give a nod, and his jaw dropped. It was none other than Cliff Tracey.

He closed his mouth and thought frantically about what to say. Thankfully, the bartender handed over his drink, buying him some time.

“It’s on me, man,” Cliff told the bartender before turning back to Richard with narrowed eyes. “Hey, you look familiar. Do I know you?”

Fighting back nervousness, Richard replied, “No, but I’m a big fan and honored to finally meet you. Thanks for the drink.” He raised his glass in a toast. “I love the way you do the two-handed slide. It’s subtle.”

Cliff clinked their glasses together. “That’s cool you noticed. Do you play?”

“Yeah, but I’m between bands at the moment.” Richard glanced around the bar and saw the British drummer at one of the pool tables. “And I’m nowhere near as good as you.” He tilted his head at the guitarist of the house band. “I’m better than him, though.”

Cliff laughed. “What brands do you play?”

As they talked guitars, Richard had an epiphany. Maybe instead of messing with the guy who was fucking Kat, he’d get further if he befriended him.

Chapter Ten

Kat’s mind and body roiled with the unpleasant high before the bad thoughts began to ebb away and awareness flooded in. She was curled up on Klement Burke’s lap. The solid warmth of his legs permeated the thin fabric of her dress. Her cheek pressed against his chest, and she could hear his heartbeat, a soft steady thump that seemed to anchor her while the heat of his body seeped into her flesh, seeming to warm even her bones. Her mouth twisted in a frown. Even her bones felt cold? When the hell would this shit wear off?

His hands continued to caress her, one sliding soothingly along her back and shoulders, the other stroking her hair until she wished she could purr like a cat. God, it felt so good to be in his arms. His embrace felt so safe, like a shelter from a storm. He even smelled good, like sunshine and mountain air. She had an almost undeniable urge to nuzzle her face in his neck, to reach up and caress his hair. Only, the fear that he’d pull away stopped her.

Then he massaged her right shoulder, where the weight of her guitar strap dug in the heaviest. His fingers worked magic. Rippling waves of gold-tinged pleasure reverberated through her, from her shoulder down her back and all the way to her toes. Her muscles felt like guitar strings, and he was playing her like a song.

A moan escaped her throat even as her mind spun. This pot cupcake was indeed potent to give colors to physical sensations. However, since it wasn’t a bad feeling for once, she was determined to roll with it. The cats leapt onto the couch and curled up beside her and Klement, and their purrs added to her comfort.

Klement continued to work at the tense muscles until she was writhing on his lap. Suddenly, she felt a hardness pressing against her ass. She knew what it was, too. So she bit her lip in longing and shifted positions so it would be in contact with her core, which was now pulsing in rhythm with the shoulder rub.

Klement’s breath hissed through his teeth. He stiffened, and his fingers stopped their exquisite ministrations. Not wanting him to let her go, she rubbed her cheek against his chest.

“Thank you so much. I’m starting to feel better.” She looked up at him, studying his sharp cheekbones, the line of his jaw, the curves of his lips. “Um, did you eat a cupcake, too?”

“No.” His hand slipped down to her upper arm, the touch hot but maddeningly unmoving. “I wanted to be sober enough to drive.”

So, he was sober and still wanted to touch her? Joy swelled Kat’s heart. But Klement also seemed somewhat reserved.

Tentatively, she reached up to touch the golden strands of his hair. She needed to keep talking before he released her. Even if this was a terrible idea for both of them and for the band, she couldn’t let this end. “When did you start playing bass?”

“I actually played the mandolin first, when I was five. It was my grandpa’s.”

“Five? Wow. Did your parents get you lessons?”

He shook his head. “No, they were executives of a marketing firm, so they were out of town most of the time meeting clients and doing trade shows. Grandpa gave me a few lessons while my sisters and I stayed with him and Grandma. Then he let me take the mandolin home and I taught myself the rest. I got a regular guitar for Christmas when I was ten and tried to get into bands when I was fourteen, but everybody plays guitar so I learned bass.” He smiled. “I like bass better anyway. It’s easier on my big fingers.”

She glanced over at those fingers engulfing her shoulder and licked her lips. They’d felt incredible on her back and shoulders. How would they feel on her—? The thought brought another flood of lust between her legs. Unbidden, her body pressed closer to his.

Klement shifted, and they both stopped breathing. Kat willed herself to escape the thick haze of desire enough to focus on what he’d just been saying. Klement Burke, the most mysterious member of Bleeding Vengeance, who’d never revealed any personal information about himself in any of the interviews she’d read, was opening up to her.

“So, you were alone a lot when you were a kid,” she said softly. That explained so much. His need to always be busy. His cars, his computers, his guitars, his countless hobbies—they filled a void of loneliness. And maybe he’d picked up all his talents in an effort to impress them, to gain their approval and attention.

“Yeah. It’s like my parents had kids because they were expected to, not because they wanted them. And I was a difficult kid.”

He didn’t elaborate, but the catch in his voice told Kat everything. Her heart ached for him. Despite her father’s abuse, her mom was always there for her, stepping in to take the beatings whenever she could. And when she wasn’t able to intervene in time, she’d kept Kat home from school and they’d make cookies together and watch movies. Sometimes she had even taken out her violin. That had been the rare occasion indeed.

“Mom tried to teach me violin,” she told Klement, still lightly playing with his hair. It was so silky. “She was a prodigy and had a scholarship to Juilliard before she got pregnant with me.”

“Really? That’s awesome. I mean about Juilliard, not that she didn’t get to go.”

He sounded genuinely interested. All the other guys she’d been with were bored when she talked about her mom.

“Are you any good with it?”

“Good enough to satisfy a high school orchestra teacher, but that’s about it.” Kat’s lips curved into a smile as she remembered the look on her mom’s face when she tried to play Megadeth’s “Gears of War” on the instrument. “In the end, Mom followed my stepdad’s advice and got me a guitar when I showed more enthusiasm for metal.”

Klement stroked her arm lightly, as if afraid she would break. “I’m glad she did. And I’m sorry your stepdad died. He sounds like a great guy.”

You’re a great guy, she wanted to say, but her throat was too tight from the painful memories, and the dizziness from the pot cupcake washed over her once more, engulfing her with that disturbing underwater feeling. Kat gripped Klement’s arm as if he could keep her from drowning.

“How are you doing?” he asked softly.

“Not good. I feel all muzzy.” Her voice croaked a bit. She was thirsty but didn’t dare move from the haven of Klement’s lap.

He looked over at the clock. “It’s only been an hour or so…” He let the words hang as if reluctant to point out the obvious. She hadn’t even peaked yet. Which meant that the “high” was going to get worse.

As if in confirmation, the cold returned. Kat knew it was just a cool draft from the air conditioner, but it felt like an icy blast that would kill her. Goosebumps rose all over her flesh and the shaking returned.

“Cold,” she managed before her teeth started chattering.

“I’ll turn the AC off.”

He began to move her, but panic welled up in her once more. She grasped his arm like a lifeline. “No, please stay. You’re warm…safe.”

“Okay.”

He wiggled around, jostling her as his arm reached back and twisted. Just as she was about to ask what he was doing, he covered her with the blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch. A blissful sigh escaped her lips as she nuzzled against his chest.

She didn’t know how long they stayed that way, her curled in his lap, him lightly stroking her back, but peace and gratitude for Klement’s kindness welled up within her for what felt like an eternity until the compulsion to say something was impossible to quell.

“Thank you for making me feel better.” She opened her eyes and looked up at him, marveling that such a large man could be so gentle. She was astonished at herself for never noticing how truly handsome he was, either.

“I told you, it’s no big deal. Though, in all my years as a stoner, I’ve just never seen anyone have such an extreme reaction to this stuff.” He looked down at her, and his expression changed from aching sincerity to amusement. He laughed.

“What?”

“Your lipstick smudged a bit.”

The pad of his thumb brushed the skin beside her mouth before straying to the edge of her lips. Her skin tingled with pleasure at the feather-light touch, and tentatively she reached up and traced his firm jaw line before curling a lock of his hair around her finger. “Your hair is so soft. I…”

She lifted her chin slightly, and he bent lower until his lips brushed hers. Or was it the other way around? Kat didn’t care. Linking her arms around his neck, she pulled Klement closer, needing more, needing all of him. The heat of his kiss, its soft, delicate touch inflamed her senses, warming her from the inside out.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips before delving in to tangle with hers. Electric lust rippled through her body, narrowing the world to Klem and only him. She returned the kiss hungrily, reveling in this intimacy of which she had long been deprived. Shifting on his lap, she straddled his hips, gasping in ecstasy as his hardness pressed against her throbbing core. The blanket slid off her shoulders and fell to the floor.

Suddenly, he broke away. A pitiful cry caught in the back of her throat at the agony of unfulfilled desire, and his voice came out low and husky.

“No, I can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not right, not in the condition you’re in.” His palm slid up to cup her cheek, the tenderness in his gaze enough to undo her. “Besides, I’m too old for you.”

She raised a brow. “Shouldn’t you have said that before you put your tongue in my mouth? Besides, you’re only thirty-five.”

Klement’s eyes widened, and he stared at her for the longest time before bursting out laughing. The sting of the rejection eased as he wrapped his arms around Kat and held her tight, and she laughed with him, a limited balm to her thwarted desire. Alas, that ended as well when he carefully lifted her and stood, setting her on her feet.

“Can you stand okay?”

Her legs wobbled for a moment, but she steadied herself, not wanting to be seen as clingy. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

He turned around and reached down his pants to adjust himself. Kat bit her lip as she imagined her fingers gripping his hardness, feeling its sleek hot length against her palm.

Klement turned back to face her, looking embarrassed. “Well. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Her stomach growled, and her mouth suddenly felt like the Gobi Desert. “How did you know?”

“Munchies are inevitable.”

In the end, she guzzled nearly a gallon of water and ate an entire pint of strawberry cheesecake ice cream that had been intended for Roderick. If there was any consolation to her accidental drugging, it was that the food tasted so damn good. That, and Klement’s embrace had been pure bliss. It would almost be worth gobbling another cupcake if he’d kiss her again.

“What’s so funny?” he asked as she giggled.

“Nothing.” She scraped the last bit of ice cream out of the container and licked her spoon, and he gave her another assessing look, as if to make sure she was still doing okay.

“I was thinking of heading up to the music room, taking a bong hit and messing around with my bass. Want to join me?”

She nodded slowly, hoping the movement wouldn’t make her dizzy again. “Okay, but I don’t want a bong hit.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough.”

She followed him up the stairs and once more gaped with uninhibited delight at the guitars hanging from the walls. The bubbling noise from the bong seemed to vibrate across her skin, too, making her laugh.

Klement blew out a cloud of smoke and raised a brow. “What’s so funny?”

“The sound tickled.” She giggled again at the absurdity of it all.

He shook his head and took another hit, chuckling when it made her laugh again. Smoke came out of his nose, and she laughed even harder. But when he picked up an acoustic Dean Bass and began plucking a poignant melody, her amusement faded to bliss.

She could feel the notes undulating down her spine. The sight of his fingers dancing across the strings made her remember how they’d felt on her body, and naughty thoughts filled her mind as she imagined what they’d feel like on her breasts, between her thighs… She shook her head. There was no need to torture herself with fantasies she couldn’t achieve.

Closing her eyes, she let the music take her on a magical journey as it had when she was a kid. Once more, it engulfed her imagination, transporting her to new worlds of emotion.

Klement struck a last chord, which vibrated away to a hollow emptiness that pressed around Kat. She opened her eyes, about to ask him to play another song, when her eyes alit on a gorgeous double-necked six- and twelve-string guitar. How had she never noticed it before? The need to create had come over her suddenly, like a junkie’s craving.

She pointed. “May I?”

His lips curved up into a smile that she stared at too long. “Of course.”

When she slid the long strap over her shoulder and settled the cumbersome guitar on her lap, Klement grinned again and shook his head. “That thing looks enormous when you’re holding it.”

“It is enormous!” She stuck her tongue out then, grabbed a pick from the side table and began to play.

Even though her first notes on the twelve-string were awkward and out of time, they still felt good, and when she got the hang of the instrument and began to play an actual tune, there was an echo of pleasure that reminded her of Klement’s kiss. He joined in with his bass, turning her melody into an actual song. It felt like they were embracing again, only this time with sound instead of touch. Like a hypnotic dance, her riffs mingled with his bass line, seeming to tease the limits of the stratosphere.

Kat peeked at him from beneath her lashes. He’d been so kind, his touch was sublime, and they made beautiful music together.

If she wasn’t careful, she could fall in love with him.

Chapter Eleven

Klement closed his eyes, seeming to taste the new song they were creating. It was rich and evocative, like Kat’s kiss. But it was also somber—and surprisingly good for them just playing around.

Still playing, he carefully reached over and turned on his recording system. This might be useful for Lefty’s song. But the magic drizzled away and Kat started messing up notes.

She sighed and lifted the guitar strap over her head. “I’m sorry, I gotta quit. The fuzziness is coming back.”

Klement set his bass back on its stand, frowning with concern. “Do you feel panicky?”

“No, thank God, but I still feel really fucked up.”

Hands shaking, she slowly returned the double-necked guitar to its place. Klement struggled to think of something safe they could do, something that would keep her mellow yet still avoid tempting him.

“We could watch a movie.” The bong hit had mellowed him enough that he could sit for a little while, and maybe if his attention were on the screen, he’d quit obsessing about the feel of her lips.

“That sounds good. Do you have any horror movies?”

His jaw dropped with pleased astonishment. “You like horror?” He’d loved horror movies since he could remember and had a collection that made his fellow film buffs seethe in envy.

“They’re my favorite.” Her head cocked to the side as her mouth twisted with a thought. “Except for most slasher films, because some dumb chick running around in a nightgown and screaming her head off for ninety minutes bores the hell out of me.”

“Are you sure they won’t have a bad effect in your state?” Klem asked with growing concern.

Those lush lips curved into an impish grin. “Not if you have one of the good cheesy ones.”

They headed back downstairs, and he showed her to the theater room where she immediately exclaimed over his DVD and Blu-Ray collection. When she eventually settled on Army of Darkness, Klement nodded in approval. He could definitely fall for this woman if he wasn’t careful.

He popped some popcorn and grabbed a fleece blanket to keep her shivers at bay. And even though there was plenty of room on the tiered sectional couches, he couldn’t resist sitting next to her.

They laughed at Bruce Campbell’s schlocky but endearing performance and cracked jokes about Ash’s seeming invincibility. As they did, Klem mentally relived how Kat had felt curled up in his lap, the way her small, lithe fingers had tangled in his hair, her soft moans of pleasure as he’d kneaded the tense muscles of her shoulder. And that kiss. He couldn’t remember who’d started it, but God, he didn’t think he’d ever experienced anything that potent. She’d tasted just like chocolate and happiness…if happiness had a flavor. Just the simple sensation of her mouth pressed against his had drowned his mind in a sea of heat and tremors of raw desire, a forbidden fantasy come true and promising more.

But she was fucked up on cupcakes he’d made. He’d nearly lost all ability to think when she’d moved to straddle him, her hot core pressing against his throbbing erection, but when his hands began to slide under the flimsy fabric of her dress his conscience finally reared its head. This would be like taking advantage of a drunk girl, only worse, since it was his fault she was in the state. He might as well have given her a roofie.

Still, it had been agony to break away, to disengage her from the aching source of his need. Hell, even now, with her innocently seated beside him, munching on popcorn and snuggled under a blanket, the urge to yank her back into his arms and carry her to bed was restrained by a thin leash.

That way lay madness. Even when she sobered up, things couldn’t go further between them. If Kat performed well at Thrashfest—and Klem had little doubt she would—there was a good chance she’d be in the band for good. A colleague, a coworker. One they desperately needed. Hell if he was going to fuck that up by getting into a relationship with her and have it ruined by inevitable heartbreak. Almost every woman he’d ever dated eventually dumped him for some singer—or because they thought he was crazy with his constant need to be working on a million projects.

Hell, that was probably another thing. He was too busy and neurotic to be a good boyfriend. He’d probably lost some of those earlier girlfriends through sheer neglect. He was twitchy, he talked to himself, and his attention wandered all over the place. His mother’s litany of his flaws rattled into his mind. Kat deserved better than that. And even if she didn’t think he was nuts, even if her infatuation with Cliff might have cooled, there would be plenty other front men at Thrashfest. And she’d definitely draw eyes in return.

She tapped him on the shoulder, breaking off his shudder. “You need to have some of this popcorn before I eat it all.”

He grabbed a handful and turned his attention back to the movie.

Ash was shooting up more undead monsters with his “boomstick,” and Klement gave a laugh. “I’ve always wondered where he was hiding ammo for all those shells.”

Kat grinned. “S-Mart has an infinity ammo–model shotgun, I think. It’s on the same aisle as the infinite fuel chainsaw.”

In unison, they quoted, “‘Shop smart. Shop S-Mart!’”

They laughed and made jokes through the whole movie. Klement couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. So, although he couldn’t get involved with Kat, he took some comfort in the fact that they could at least be great friends. Greater than they’d been as IT Guy and the website manager over the phone.

“How are you doing?” he asked her when the credits rolled.

“Still woozy, but I’m starting to feel more like myself.”

“That’s good.” He’d hated seeing Kat suffer, especially when it was his fault. “Do you want to watch another movie?”

“Totally! I’m torn between Thankskilling and Night of the Demons Two.”

He laughed. “Both are really punny.”

After settling on the latter, she rested her head against the side of his bicep. He couldn’t hold back a grin. Even sitting, she was too small to reach his shoulder. Unable to resist, he reached out with his free hand to brush a lock of hair from her cheek.

The door abruptly opened, flooding the cozy dimness of the theater room with sobering light. Klem and Kat sprang apart just before Cliff and Roderick came in, and Roderick plopped down beside Kat and grabbed her popcorn.

“Ooh, you’re watching Night of the Demons Two? That one is bloody hilarious. I prefer the first one, though.”

“Damn it!” Cliff cradled a bag of chips under his arm. “I wanted to play Call of Duty.”

Klement shook his head. “You can still do that on the TV in the living room, or the TV in your room.”

“Yeah, but I like the big screen and sound system in here.” He sat down next to Klement and opened a bag of Cheetos. “This movie is fucking stupid.”

Kat frowned. “That’s the point.”

“But—”

Klement changed the subject before Cliff went back to complaining about wanting to play video games. “So, how’d the night go?”

“All right, I guess. There weren’t many chicks, so I hung out with this guy named Rick and talked guitars. Rod hustled a lot of pool. Anyway, Rick was pretty cool and seemed to know his stuff. Maybe he can come out here and jam with us sometime.”

Klement saw Kat give Cliff a worried look. Did she think he was pushing to replace her? Not gonna happen.

“You know I don’t like having strangers here,” he said. “But you can hook him up with a backstage pass to Thrashfest or something if you want.”

Cliff shrugged. “Okay.”

Despite his complaint about the movie, Cliff stayed and watched anyway, making wisecracks with the rest of them. The whole thing was fun, but Klement selfishly preferred when it had been just him and Kat.

After Night of the Demons Two was over, Roderick threw on one of the Leprechaun movies, but Kat must have had enough because, not twenty minutes in, her head flopped back against Klement’s arm. She was asleep.

Roderick glanced over and chuckled. “How was she?”

“What?” Klement looked up sharply. Did he think he’d slept with her?

“The cupcake she ate. She didn’t look so good when we left.”

“Oh. She felt like crap for about an hour, and then we jammed a bit before watching movies. I still feel terrible for not telling her about them, but it ended up okay.” He did his best to sound nonchalant. “She did eat all of your cheesecake ice cream, though.”

“Bloody hell.” Roderick laughed. “I wanted that for breakfast!”

“I’ll get you more.”

The drummer shrugged. “It’s all right. I’m glad she’s okay.”

Cliff glanced over. “She got the munchies and passed the hell out. Sounds like a good night.”

“Yeah,” Klement said. “And I’m about to pass out as well. I gotta get started on her car tomorrow.” He tapped her shoulder to try to wake her. “Maybe you should go to bed, Kat.”

She mumbled something incoherent and nuzzled his shoulder.

Cliff laughed. “She’s out cold.”

Carefully, Klement shifted her from his arm stood to lift her. She felt so light and fragile in his arms…and so right.

“You taking her to her bed or yours?” Cliff asked. At Klement’s dark look he held up his hands. “Just kidding. I get it. No poaching on the new guitarist. I’ll treat her like one of the guys from now on.”

Roderick laughed. “Right. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

As Klement tucked Kat into the guest bed, he shook his head at the irony. He’d admonished Cliff and Rod to treat her like a colleague, yet tonight he’d done nearly the furthest thing from. And even with the awareness of his own hypocrisy looming over him, he still couldn’t refrain from kissing her on the forehead on his way out.

***

Kat awoke from a muddied dream in which she was being attacked by zombies throwing cupcakes at her until Klement carried her off to safety riding a giant chainsaw on wheels. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, blinking dumbly at the sunlight streaming through the windows. It took a moment for her to remember where she was and what she’d been doing last night.

That fucking pot cupcake. She’d been so messed up she didn’t even remember going to bed.

“Oh God, I hope I didn’t make too much of an ass of myself,” she croaked.

Her throat was parched, so she grabbed a glass of water by the bed and chugged the whole thing as she tried to piece together the previous evening. She remembered being unreasonably cold and having what seemed like every bad thought and memory in her head dance before her eyes. She remembered Klement pulling her into his lap and comforting her…

She remembered kissing him. Or had he kissed her?

Or had she hallucinated? After all, she did have a vague memory of seeing purple bugs crawling on the walls.

Kat shook her head. No, the memory of the kiss lacked the fuzziness of the hallucinations. And the rest of it soon came back: her straddling his lap and gyrating on him like a crazed lust-demon. Him disengaging, moving her off of his lap.

“No, I can’t do this,” he’d said. “It’s not right, not in the condition you’re in.”

Despite the rejection, he’d been gentle and tender, cradling her face and staring deep into her eyes like a lover. And his cock had been hard as steel, straining against the fabric of his jeans.

Her core filled with heat at the memory of how he felt pressed between her thighs. He’d wanted her, that was unmistakable, but he’d held back because she’d been drugged up. Despite her frustration that he’d stopped, his honorable reasons filled her with even more respect and affection for him. She’d had her share of drunken one-night stands that she’d ended up regretting.

With what had happened last night? She had no regrets. Sober, she only wanted Klement more.

In his embrace, she’d never felt safer. In his company, she’d never been more relaxed. Every time she’d been in need, he’d been there without her even having to ask. When her old guitar strap hurt her shoulder, he gave her a new one. When her car broke down, he had it towed to his place and immediately began planning how to fix it. When she’d had a panic attack, he’d comforted her. A lump formed in her throat at the magnitude of her gratitude for everything he’d done. If only there was a way to repay him. But, what could she do for a man who seemed to have everything?

Kat chose her outfit for the day with care. Klement had mentioned working on her car, and the least she could do was help him with that. But she still wanted to look good.

Settling on a pair of well-worn jeans that still flattered her figure and a snug black Slayer t-shirt, she next went to the bathroom and fixed the train-wreck that was her makeup. Apparently she’d also forgotten to wash up last night and had total raccoon face.

Downstairs, Roderick told her that Klement was already working on her car, so she grabbed a few bagels and a cup of coffee for each of them, hoping she’d added enough cocoa to his. Outside, she headed to the garage and laid eyes on his tall, lean-muscled form, and her knees went weak.

Klement saw her and smiled. “Hey there.”

She licked dry lips. “Hey.” For a moment she stood like an idiot. She wished she could smack herself upside the head. “I brought you coffee and bagels.”

“Thank you so much,” he said, as if she’d done something far more impressive—like bake them herself. He took what she offered.

“No problem.” Her voice came out husky, and Kat couldn’t stop staring at his lips and remembering how they’d felt against hers. She’d never been so strongly affected by a guy before. “What can I do to help?”

Klement finished chewing a bite of bagel and took a sip of coffee. “I could use your small hands to reach down and unfasten the fuel hoses tucked back under there.” He pointed to her engine compartment. “Then we need to measure how long they are before I cut new ones.”

Kat followed him to his toolbox and blinked to see boxes of car parts and loops of fuel hose. “You went to the parts store already?”

“Yeah, I’m usually an early riser.” He handed her a pair of needle-nose pliers and a Phillip’s head screwdriver.

“Shouldn’t we drop the tank before replacing the hoses?”

He inclined his head toward a dark shape in the corner of the garage. “Already done. I flushed it with hot water to get rid of the sugar and then filled it with a rust-removing solution to let it soak. That should take care of the rust and the remainder of the water. After it dries we’ll want to coat the inside with a rust converter.”

“Wow. Thanks!” He had to have been up for hours to have accomplished all that. And it had all been for her. “You should have woken me up so I could have helped more.”

“Nah, you needed a rest after the crazy night you had.” An inscrutable look passed over his features. Was he remembering their kiss?

Kat bit her lip. “Yeah. Crazy. I’ll get started on those hoses.”

As she unfastened the hose clamps from the fuel pump, taking a break to grab some PB Blaster to break loose a rusted screw, Klement leaned over her shoulder. For a moment some silly part of her thought he was going to kiss her neck. But when she dared to glance up, she saw that he was watching her progress.

“You seem to have some experience working on cars.”

How could he pretend nothing had happened between them last night? She clenched her teeth and went back to attacking the hose clamp.

“My stepdad taught me the basics, but I really learned the most when I helped Kinley get her Duster. Her dad’s a major sexist prick and said he’d give it to whichever of his sons got it running.” She grinned at the memory. “But Dale already had his own car, and Chris was more interested in video games, so Kinley demanded he include her in the challenge.”

“And how’d that go?”

“Lots of scraped knuckles and broken bolts. Her dad would come in the garage with this sanctimonious smirk that made me want to punch him in the face, so I picked up all the shop manuals and watched all the YouTube tutorials that I could find and I helped her.” Her smile broadened. “The car didn’t run pretty, but it ran. And the look on her dad’s face when we drove it around the block was worth it.”

Klement laughed with the unabashed delight that she’d grown to love. How could she have thought he sounded dorky?

“That’s awesome,” he said.

They worked together on her Subaru with almost as much harmony as she had with Kinley—maybe more in some ways, since Klement knew more about what they were doing.

After removing the last clamp, Kat grabbed a shop rag and wiped her fingers with a grimace. “Damn, these were sticky. I wish I could find out who fucked with my car and beat the crap out of them.”

Klement’s expression darkened. He crossed his arms and leaned forward. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Did you tell anyone that we hired you to be our recording guitarist?”

“No. Well, only Kinley, Quinn, and my mom.” Kat paused, remembering. “Wait, I did tell my IT Guy for our website. But I never told him where the studio is. Besides, he wouldn’t do something like this.”

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.

“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 looked 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.

Cliff and Rod were just finishing up some toaster strudels and rising from the table, looking ready to face the day, though Cliff looked a little pale and red-eyed. Kat’s stomach sank a little as she realized Klement was nowhere in sight. Then her lips curved in a rueful smile. At least she’d mastered sleeping in like a rock star.

Roderick approached as she was pouring coffee. “We’re going to go pick up Cliff’s car and check out the shops downtown. Want to come along?”

Kat shook her head. After hanging out at the club last night, she had no desire to go out in public again so soon. Something about her anxiety issues made too much socializing difficult. And: “Thanks, but I gotta help Klement with my car. We still have to wrestle the tank back in and hook up the hoses.”

Cliff laughed. “Don’t count on doing that anytime soon. He’ll be tapping away on his keyboard for at least another two hours—if you’re lucky.”

“That’s fine,” Kat said. “I have my own computer work to do today anyway.”

Taking her coffee back to her room, she paused in the hall and smiled at the rapid clackety-clack of Klement’s keyboard and the soft mutters coming from his office. He talked to himself when he was working? That was so cute. But she couldn’t discern a word because he rattled off whatever he was saying as fast as an auctioneer.

Kat took a sip of coffee and set it on the desk in her room, fired up her laptop and logged on to the admin section of her website. She still needed to call IT Guy and run the update. It was odd that he hadn’t answered the phone when she’d tried to call him last night, even more strange that he hadn’t called her back or shot her a quick message; he’d always responded quickly to any question or concern before this. A tinge of worry gnawed at her gut. Hopefully he was okay.

Grabbing her phone, she began to dial his number…and cursed when the screen remained black. Between working on the car and then the new song, and then going out to the bar, she’d forgotten to charge the damn thing.

Kat plugged her phone in and seethed with impatience. Rod and Cliff would only be gone for about another hour, and she wanted all the alone time with Klement that she could get. She smiled as she listened to the clattering of his keyboard and his muttering down the hall. It would probably be best if she closed her door, but one of the cats had nudged it open and was weaving through her ankles with a heavy purr. Geddy. It was new for him to approach her. He’d been too shy before. Now he was letting her scratch him between the ears.

Sitting back down at her laptop, she started composing an email to IT Guy to see if he wanted to schedule a call. She hoped he didn’t do that text-chat thing again. She preferred to hear his voice, especially since she was nervous as hell over Thrashfest and Kinley wasn’t available to comfort her. Kat would die before she told IT Guy about her feelings for the bass player, but he could be a good sounding board for her anxieties about her first time on stage with Bleeding Vengeance.

Leaning back in her chair, she sighed. How pathetic was she to rely on a tech support dude for comfort? Well, pathetic or not, he was all she had to turn to. She drummed her fingers on the arm of the comfy office chair Klement had put in her guest room. Besides, they’d known each other for years. Surely it was natural for a friendship to have developed.

Oh, and they did need to get that software update done.

Before she clicked send on the email, her gaze alit on an icon at the corner of her screen—an icon that had always been there but she’d never paid any attention to. Google Dialer. She could just freakin’ call him from her laptop! Why the hell hadn’t she thought of it before? She was just about to get up from her chair to close the door to the bedroom when Geddy jumped up on her lap. Kat smiled and scratched his ears. Oh well, she’d just have to talk quietly.

She dialed IT Guy’s number from memory. The screen telephone icon turned from red to green.

She waited. Some techno tune played faintly down the hall. Kat recognized it as an old video game theme. On her screen, just like on a cell phone, a little time-ticker counted the seconds. This software was working, but she didn’t hear any ringing. Maybe Google Dialer didn’t make a ringing sound.

“Alpha Tech Services, how can I help you?”

IT Guy’s voice hadn’t come from her laptop. It came from Klement’s office.

“Alpha Tech Services—”

The cat jumped off her lap as Katana jerked in her seat. Her eyes darted back to her laptop screen, and with shaking fingers she fiddled with the volume. “—can I help you?”

Her fingers froze before she could raise the volume all the way. The voice now came from her computer and down the hall. Her jaw dropped, she jerked the mouse arrow across the screen and clicked the END CALL icon.

Klement’s voice—IT Guy’s voice—still echoed faintly from his office. “Hmmm…”

The Google Dialer icon flashed an incoming call and listed IT Guy’s number. A faint ringing chimed from her laptop speakers, so Kat quickly turned the volume all the way down and closed the Dialer window. Heart pounding, she slowly got out of her chair and crept to the door, closing it as quietly as possible. She then tiptoed to her bed and sat down hard. All the strength had left her legs.

Klement and IT Guy were the same person? Her breath seized in her lungs as she tried to process the insanity of that. Her mind raced between the memories of years of tech calls and all the conversations she’d had with Klem since he’d first called her to offer her an audition with Bleeding Vengeance. A croaking laugh escaped her lips when she remembered she’d mistaken him for IT Guy at the time because “their voices sounded the same.” Their voices had sounded the same because they were the same guy!

Her head spun. Was she dreaming? Confusion and a tinge of outrage infused Kat’s shock. Why the hell hadn’t Klement told her who he was? He’d known her for years, but now it seemed she didn’t know him at all.

For a moment she wondered if he was the one who’d messed with her car. Was it a ploy to get her into his house?

Kat shook her head. That didn’t seem reasonable. First off, why make her late to the studio in such an attempt? Secondly, she’d already accepted his invitation to stay when her fuel system was trashed. Besides, why would he give himself such hard work? And why have her pop the trunk and check her tire if he’d been the one who slashed it? Why leave Cliff’s car at the bar for bait?

The muscles in her back relaxed slightly as she considered. There was no way she could see Klement doing anything harmful to her or Cliff. Kinley might think that he was crazy—amusingly, she said the same about IT Guy—but he wasn’t that type of crazy. So, there had to be some other motive.

Was he using his IT Guy persona to spy on her? To make sure she wasn’t saying anything detrimental to the band? He’d only asked generic questions like how she was doing and then gave her positive encouragement. Hell, he’d even advised her to stand up to the group about Cliff taking her solos. And her relationship with him as Klement was only a few months old, and only a week in person. She’d worked with him as IT Guy for three years, and their friendship had developed two years ago.

Around the same time he found out she was a guitar player.

She bolted up from the bed as the impact of that fact struck her full force. That was why Klement had been so quick to give her an audition when Quinn asked. It wasn’t just that he owed Quinn a favor. It was because he already knew she could play. As IT Guy, he had praised her talent with vehement sincerity. As Klement Burke, he had done the same. So he might have already been considering auditioning her.

A tendril of warmth coiled around Kat’s confusion. Whatever was going on with Klement’s dual identity, he didn’t appear to have bad intentions. But she still wondered why he was keeping the secret from her.

Part of her wanted to storm into his office and demand to know what the fuck he was doing. The rest of her, as always, was terrified of confrontation. What if he got angry when he found out that she knew? What if he fired her from the band?

Her lungs constricted and her heart raced, so Kat dug in her purse for her Xanax. Just as she opened the bottle, a knock sounded on her door. She jumped at the sound, and the bottle flew from her hands. Little peach-colored pills scattered across the bedroom’s hardwood floor.

“Y-yeah?” she stammered.

“I’m going to make a sandwich. Just checking to see if you wanted one too before we get back to work on the car.”

Klement sounded so carefree that Kat’s chest tightened further.

“The chemical treatment’s been soaking long enough in your tank that I think we can safely call it coated and I’m ready to go back in.”

“Sure. I’ll be out in a minute,” Kat said. She bit her lip, marveling at the casual tone she’d managed. So why didn’t she have the balls to say anything?

Her shoulders slumped as she knelt on the floor and picked up her pills. The problem was more than worry about her discovery causing detriment to her position with the band. It was…how would it affect her relationship with Klement? What if he never smiled at her again? Hugged her again? Kissed her? In spite of her revelation of Klement’s deception, she couldn’t stop reliving the heat of his embrace. Couldn’t stop wanting more.

Once her medicine was back in the bottle, Kat took a deep breath and popped a pill, coming to a decision. She would keep quiet about this for now and see what he did, see if anything in his behavior—as Klement or as IT Guy—indicated any reason for keeping such a strange secret. However—Kat glanced at her phone—she would get hold of Kinley ASAP and find out whether her friend or Quinn knew anything about Klement’s many vocations.

Straightening her shoulders, Kat went down to the kitchen, repeating a silent mantra. Must act normal, must act normal.

“Hey there.” Klement greeted her with a smile that made her belly flip over. Was it just her, or did he look even more sexy than usual? His hair tumbled down to his shoulders, curling slightly at the ends and glistening molten gold in the sunlight streaming through the window. Sometime last night or this morning he’d shaved, and the sight of his smooth cheeks and sharp jawline made her want to caress his face.

“Hey,” she said.

She grabbed a roast beef sandwich from the counter and bit into it before he caught her ogling him. But, as she ate, she couldn’t stop stealing glances at him. This was her IT Guy. In the flesh. For years she’d wondered if he was handsome. Where he lived. If he was single. Now she had her answer.

She just couldn’t believe it. Her friend of many years was sitting beside her. She was in his house, eating food that he’d made for her. She was in his band, a band that was her favorite of all bands she’d ever heard. And only the other night he’d held her in his arms and kissed her.

His voice halted the dangerous train of thought. “Should we get to work?”

Still in a daze, Kat nodded. Then she followed Klement outside. One of the patrol cars that Officer Shaw had sent to patrol the neighborhood drove by, and a cop waved. She tamped down an instinctive flinch and waved back.

In the garage she did her best to concentrate on working on the car, but it seemed the universe conspired against her. Putting the gas tank back in required them lying down beside each other while he held it in place and she threaded through the retaining bolts. Even with the strong shop odors of oil and gasoline, she could smell his enticingly clean masculine scent, and by the time they slid out from under the car, her panties were soaked with arousal.

“You okay?” Klement asked as he reattached fuel hoses to the throttle body. “You’ve been really quiet today.”

Her hands fumbled with the screwdriver. She needed to say something, anything.

“What’s really going on with Cliff?” she asked finally. “You said someone was messing with him, but you didn’t say exactly what they’re doing.”

Klement’s gaze lifted from the hose clamp and darkened. “Someone delivered a dead cat in a box. He thought it was a crazy ex until we found out that your car was being tampered with.”

Kat shuddered. Thank Christ her Xanax was kicking in, or the horrific mental images of poor dead kitties would have sent her into a full blown panic attack. “Oh my God, that is sick!”

Klement nodded, face somber. “I know. It’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Kat crossed her arms. “Why? To protect my womanly sensibilities?”

“Partly.” He sighed. “But mostly because it was so horrifying that I don’t even want to think about it, myself.” Concern filled his blue eyes. “You didn’t get any odd packages when you were at that hotel, did you?”

She shook her head. “No. I got a weird feeling, though. But besides my flat tire, nothing happened. Still, I can’t imagine it was one of Cliff’s exes.”

Klement raised a brow. “Why not?”

“It may sound sexist, but I can’t imagine a chick doing that. Handling a dead animal like that.” She stopped as her horror intensified. “Did it look like they killed the cat, too?”

“No.” Klement hugged his arms as if cold. “It was obviously roadkill. Still, I’m keeping a close eye on my cats.”

Admiration filled Katana that he cared so much about his kitties. Surely a man who was kind to animals couldn’t be a guy with bad intentions. She’d point that out to Kinley when she talked about his secret profession.

“Hey, have you talked to Kinley lately?” Klement asked suddenly, almost as if reading her mind again.

Kat jumped. “No, but I was going to try to call her in a bit.” She couldn’t help but add, “I also need to get hold of my IT Guy for that update we were supposed to do yesterday. He never answered the phone.” She gave Klem a sideways glance through lowered lashes and wondered if it was her imagination or had he reddened a bit?

“Um, well, could you ask Kinley if she or Quinn told anyone about you joining Bleeding Vengeance?”

“Sure thing,” Kat said. And a whole lot more.

Still, between the story of the dead cat and Klement actively pursuing information to find a connection with things that had happened to her and Cliff, she was convinced that he hadn’t been the one to tamper with her car in the first place.

Cliff and Roderick pulled up in the driveway and got out of their cars, chatting about the stuff they’d seen in town.

Klement turned to Kat. “Well, I’m up for a break. Later I’m going to finish putting your throttle body back together, and then hopefully she’ll fire right up.”

Kat looked up at the man whom she’d discovered had been her friend for years. Half of her wanted to smack him and demand answers; the other half wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him about all the times she’d wanted to meet him in person.

Instead, she walked away.

Chapter Fourteen

As the guys headed up to the music room, Kat unplugged her phone from the charger and went out on the deck to call Kinley. She crossed her fingers for four rings before her best friend answered.

“Hey, Kat!”

Kinley’s voice was a welcome haven of stability after the morning’s unsettling discovery, and Kat didn’t waste any time. “Did you know that Klement is our IT Guy?”

Kinley’s shocked gasp was all the answer she needed. “What?”

“Yeah.” Relieved that at least her best friend hadn’t been keeping anything from her, Kat told Kin what had happened. “I tried to call IT Guy to run an update on our site and I heard Klement answer from his office.”

“Holy shit! What did you say to him?”

Kat’s shoulders slumped. “Nothing. I was too shocked, so I hung up.”

“But didn’t he see it was you from the Caller ID?” her friend demanded.

“Nope. My phone was dead, so I used Google Dialer on my laptop.” Kat’s eyes widened as a realization struck her. “Oh my God, that explains why he didn’t answer the last couple times I tried to call him. He was right beside me.”

“I can’t believe it.” Kinley’s awe was palpable over the phone. “Klement Burke, bassist of Bleeding Vengeance, has been doing routine tech support for Metalness.com for the last four years. That is so fucking surreal.”

“Did Quinn know?” Kat had to ask.

Kinley’s tone darkened. “No idea, but you can bet I’m going to ask him as soon as he gets back from grabbing us dinner. Have you told Klement you know yet?”

Her friend’s footsteps echoed over the phone, like she was pacing, and Kat walked back and forth along the deck to match. “No. I have no idea what to say. I mean, what if he’s upset that I found out? And why did he keep this a secret?”

“You won’t find out unless you ask him,” Kinley said. “Though I might have a guess on why he didn’t say anything before you joined the band.”

Kat paused in her trek across the deck. “Oh?”

“Think about it.” Her friend’s tone turned conspiratorial. “Why would he want any of his tech clients to know he was a famous rock star? Especially clients who run a metal fan site.”

Relief filled Kat at the logical and non-sinister explanation. Of course he’d want to keep his celebrity status under wraps. “That makes sense.”

“Wait, did he ever say anything about Bleeding Vengeance when you two were doing work on the site?” Kinley’s voice turned dire. “Because if he was sneaking in extra promotion or endorsements…”

“No, he never brought up his band until I told him about the audition.” Kat’s eyes narrowed. “The audition that he set up in the first place.”

“And how did he respond to that?” Kinley asked.

“He congratulated me and pretended to be surprised.” Kat’s voice was subdued in embarrassment.

The phone was silent for practically an eternity.

“So,” Kinley finally asked, her voice quiet. “Does he still make your lady parts quiver?”

“Yes.” More than ever. “But I’m still confused and kinda irritated that he didn’t tell me he was IT Guy.” Kat sighed. “But I also don’t think he’s keeping it secret for nefarious reasons.”

Kinley snorted. “Nefarious. You’re such a nerd.”

“No, I mean it.” Kat leaned against the deck railing and peered down at the trees. “He’s been nothing but kind to me since I got here. Like I said, when my car broke down, he towed it to his house to fix it, he cleaned his house and made up a nice room for me, and when I accidentally ate a pot cupcake—”

“You what?”

Kat sighed and backtracked, explaining what had happened. “Anyway, he felt so bad, and when I had a panic attack he sent the other guys away and held me and comforted me and…he kissed me.” Saying it aloud made her chest tight with exhilaration.

“Holy shit!”

“Yeah, but then he stopped and said we couldn’t do it, not in my condition.” Part of her cursed that chivalry as much as she admired it. “And since then he’s been acting like nothing happened.”

“Hmmm.” The sound of Kinley’s pacing halted. “So, you have the hots for Klement Burke, and I always thought you had a connection with IT Guy because you spent so much time chatting about stuff other than the website.” She paused a moment. “Dude, it’s like you have a crush on both Bruce Wayne and Batman!”

Kat laughed. “Now who’s a nerd?”

“My point still stands.”

“When you put it that way, it is a good point.” Having IT Guy and Klement at the same time in the same body seemed like the best of both worlds. Although, she didn’t really have him. He was still pretending their kiss never happened.

“So what are you going to do?” Kinley prodded.

Kat shrugged, even though her friend couldn’t see. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just going to wait for now and see if he’ll tell me.”

“I think you should talk to him.”

Kat sighed. “I know, but what if he gets mad?”

“What the hell does he have to be mad about? You didn’t keep any big secrets from him,” Kinley practically shouted. “Jesus, Kat, you need to quit being so scared of confrontation.”

“I know,” she agreed, a bit sullenly. “I’ll talk to him about it as soon as the right opportunity comes.”

“Wimp.” Kinley snorted. “Anyway, I gotta go. I need to upload my post about Thrashfest. The record company donated tickets for us to have a giveaway.”

“Oh my God, that’s awesome!” Kat almost told her goodbye, but then she remembered what Klement had asked. “Hey, you didn’t tell anyone that I’m in the studio with Bleeding Vengeance, did you? Or Quinn?”

“No, why?”

“Klement thinks that maybe an angry fan is tampering with my car and fucking with Cliff.”

“Wait, your car was tampered with? And what do you mean someone’s fucking with Cliff?” Kinley’s voice was strident with alarm.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t get the chance to tell you. Someone put sugar in the tank. We also found out that someone slashed my tire. And someone sent Cliff a dead cat.”

The phone was silent for an endless moment. “Whoa. That’s fucked up.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean seriously.” Urgency leaked from the phone. “You guys should call the cops.”

“Klement did,” Kat assured her. “Unfortunately, there’s not much they can do without any leads, but they’ve been sending a patrol car by his house and the studio regularly.”

“Okay, that’s good. You should stick with Klement and the guys. To hell with his weird hidden identity, this is more important. And don’t go anywhere alone until the bastard who’s messing with you is caught.”

Pure fear laced Kinley’s voice, and Kat understood. After being poisoned by a jealous roadie and suffering online attacks, who could blame her?

“I will, don’t worry,” she promised her friend. No way in hell was she going anywhere without Klement.

Kinley’s relief was palpable. “Good. I expect a full update when I see you at Thrashfest.”

Kat blinked. “What? How did you know they’re going to let me play?”

“Because they would be crazy not to. And because Klement owes Quinn big-time.” Kin laughed. “But now that I know he was our IT Guy all along, I get why he was so quick to accept you as payment of the debt.”

Kat grinned, pleased that Kinley had come to the same conclusion.

They said their goodbyes, and Kat paused before going back into the house. The weight on her shoulders was much lighter after talking to Kinley. Now she was completely reassured that, whatever the reasons for Klement’s keeping his identity secret, he must have good ones. And she would indeed follow Kin’s advice and stick close to him. With his kindness, intelligence, and strength, he made her feel safe.

Leaning out over the deck railing, Kat closed her eyes and came to a decision. Eventually she’d muster up the courage to confront him about his secret. But just in case he reacted badly, there was something else she wanted to do first.

***

Klement frowned as he watched Kat scrub the air-cleaner housing.

She’d been quiet and, well, twitchy all day. At first he’d thought she was mad at him until he came downstairs with Cliff and Rod. She’d given him a brilliant smile that warmed him to his toes. A smile that made him feel like they were the only two people in the house and they hadn’t seen each other in ages instead of only minutes. But once they were back in the garage to work on the car, she was just as shaky and quiet as she’d been that morning.

Maybe his talk about the dead cat and the possible connection to the creep who’d messed with her car triggered the anxiety. Although he hated seeing her fear and revulsion about the news, she needed to know what was going on.

He glanced back at her, and she looked up and then quickly averted her eyes. The awkward silence was making him twitchy.

“How did your talk with Kinley go?”

Her face turned bright pink. “Um, okay.”

“Did you tell her about your car?”

“Yeah. And she and Quinn have kept quiet about me working for you guys. She’s really freaked out about me and Cliff being stalked.” Kat peered up at Klement through lowered lashes then added quietly, “She said I should stick close to you.”

His body agreed wholeheartedly, though it wanted a different sort of closeness than Kinley was suggesting. “Yes, you should.”

Kat’s dark eyes met his, and her lips parted a moment as if she were about to say something, and then they closed. “Do you think we’ll have the car going by tonight?” she finally asked.

Klement shook his head. “No, we still have to wait for that injector to come in. Also, we have to replace that tire. You don’t want to be driving on these roads on that spare. It’s bald as shit. For another thing, I want to check out the layout of the studio’s security cameras so we can figure out where you should park.”

“Okay.” Only a touch of disappointment laced her voice before she perked up. “So I’m riding with you again tomorrow?”

He nodded.

She seemed pleased with that prospect, at least. Some of his tension abated at the sight of her smiles and the return of the comfortable kinship they shared, and so he said, “I’m starving. Let’s go get washed up and figure out dinner.”

They went into the house and entered the kitchen. As they rounded the corner, Cliff turned from rummaging in the cupboards. His dark gaze swept Kat’s oil-stained clothes and blackened hands, and he smirked. “I liked what you were wearing last night better.”

Klement bit off a retort, while Kat gave Cliff the finger then wandered to the sink to wash her hands. Klement silently cheered her confidence then joined her, reaching for the bottle of dish soap.

By the time they’d washed up, Cliff pulled a tray of taquitos out of the oven. They all sat down and devoured the meal with the righteous hunger of a hard day’s work.

Cliff glanced over at him. “Did the cameras you planted in my car yield up anything?”

Klement shook his head. “Only one guy walked by, and he was too far away to tell whether he was scoping out the car or just passing through.”

“So my car’s safe then?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I just know you weren’t followed last night.” Klement broke a few pieces off of one of his taquitos and fed them to the cats at his feet. “So, like I said before, keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

Kat rose from the table with an empty plate and put it in the dishwasher. “I’m gonna go shower and do some more work on the website.”

“Ooh, can I watch?” Cliff said.

Without blinking, Klement reached across the table and punched him.

“Ow!” The singer rubbed his arm and looked up. “What the fuck, man?”

Klement didn’t answer. He left the table and headed up to his office. He needed to get that update done with Kat.

Scooping up his laptop and phone from the desk, he then went back down to his grow room where she wouldn’t be able to hear him. Setting the laptop on the table next to the clones, he turned off the ventilation fans and opened up his email. Sure enough, there was one from Kat asking to schedule a call. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed her number.

“Hi, IT Guy.”

He frowned. Her voice sounded…off. Was she mad that he hadn’t gotten back to her quickly enough?

“Sorry it took me so long to call. Are you ready to run that update?”

“Sure,” she said crisply.

He logged in to her site and did his thing, but she remained quiet instead of offering up their usual flowing conversation and banter.

“Are you okay?” Klement asked. “You seem kinda down.”

“I’m fine. Just really immersed in my new job.” Again, however, she sounded doubtful.

“They’re not working you too hard, are they?”

“No!” She sounded unnaturally defensive. “I love it, I really do.” Sincerity rang in her voice. “I’m just trying to focus on doing my best. And I have a lot on my mind.”

He didn’t like the uncertainty radiating from her. His instincts screamed to fix whatever was wrong, but his common sense knew that was a bad idea. “Anything I can help with?”

Unbelievably, she laughed. At least that was a cheerful sound. “Actually, you probably can, but I need to figure out some things on my own before I bother you with them.” There was another heavy pause. “But now I gotta go. I need to practice if I’m going to be stage-worthy.”

“I know you will be, Kat,” Klement said fervently. “I believe in you.”

“You have no idea how much that means to me. Bye, IT Guy.”

But even the goodbye sounded uncertain, like she’d wanted to say more.

The next day at the studio brought a return to Kat’s unbalanced demeanor. Several times she messed up her riff and they had to start over, and Klem grew dizzy at the myriad emotions playing across her face: humiliation, self-scorn, and determination. After the sixth take on the first song, he threw off his headphones and gestured for her to follow him outside.

She was shaking like a leaf as she met him out in the rear parking lot. Slowly, so as not to startle her, he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Relax, you’re not in trouble.” Unbidden, his fingers kneaded her tense muscles, willing her panic away. “Take some deep breaths and tell me what’s going on.”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times as thoughts raced visibly across her face. Finally, her shoulders relaxed. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry, I just need to focus.”

“There’s definitely something.”

“Yeah, but it’s…” She broke off, and the blush returned to her cheeks. “I’ll tell you later, okay?”

An embarrassing thought came to him. What if she was having lady problems? If so, he was being a complete ass for prodding her. But he’d always been relentless in figuring out his bandmates’ issues so that he could help them fix whatever was bothering them. “That’s fine. Do you feel okay to go back in?”

“I think so.”

He gave her a reassuring smile and patted her on the back. “Good. And I think you’re going to nail this song this time. I know you can do it.”

“I’ll try. I’m sorry I’ve been screwing up so much today.”

Was it his imagination, or did she lean into his hand?

Cliff and Rod waited in the small lobby nursing coffees. Thankfully, they didn’t look annoyed with Kat. Wise of them, because if they had Klement would be the first to point out their own past fuckups.

“Did Klem give you a hard time?” Roderick asked.

Kat shook her head. “No.” She glanced at him. “Though at first I thought he was going to fire me.”

“Nah, everyone has off days. One time I came into a session still drunk from the night before and barfed all over the microphone.” Cliff laughed. “Klem was pissed! But I’m still here.”

Kat laughed. “Well, I better get back to work.”

With a look of fiery determination, she went back in the recording room and pulled her guitar strap over her shoulders. Klement followed, returning to the recording booth, and his pep talk must have worked because she nailed the song in the very next take. Still, it took four more to get the next song to his satisfaction.

“I’m sorry, guys,” she said as they all headed out of the studio an hour past the time they’d expected.

“Not to worry,” Roderick said.

“Maybe you just need a drink,” Cliff suggested. “I know I do. Do you want to go out to The Hellion with us tonight?”

Kat cast Klement a quick sideways glance before shaking her head. “No, I want to do more practicing on tomorrow’s songs.”

He frowned. Did she not want to go out because he wasn’t going?

The ride to the tire shop was fairly quiet, aside from a brief argument about who would pay for her new tire, which Klement won.

“As I’m the one who hired you, I am responsible for what happens to you here.”

She frowned as he paid for the tire, but she didn’t protest. Then they picked up some Chinese takeout on the way back to Klem’s house, which the rest of the guys were grateful for.

Cliff and Rod took off for the Hellion, and Kat went to her room. Klement’s heart sank a little. He’d hoped she’d want to practice with him upstairs. Fighting disappointment, he went to his office and checked his emails. There was one from Kat to her IT Guy, thanking him for his help with the update. That was all.

Even as he shook his head at the ridiculous thought, he wished he had an excuse to call her again. She was just down the hall, for Christ’s sake. His pulse sped up a moment when he heard her door open. Had she changed her mind? Then he heard the shower.

Closing his eyes, he was unable to stop imagining rivulets of water running down her naked body. Clenching his teeth, he closed the email window and opened up the security camera footage to see if he could clarify the license plate of that car any further. It would take some serious finagling.

After about an hour of shifting pixels and adjusting highlights, there was a soft knock on his office door.

“Come in,” he called, pleased to be pulled from the tedium. But his breath halted when Kat entered. She was wearing a filmy robe that framed a black lacy negligee. Klement’s hungry gaze devoured the curves of her breasts, the outline of her body, tantalizingly visible through the lace.

“When you asked what was bothering me,” she announced, “I said I’d tell you later.”

He didn’t remember rising from his desk and crossing the room. He suddenly stood over her, their bodies inches apart.

“What—?” He broke off, mouth dry from desire.

Her liquid dark eyes met his. “I want you to kiss me again, Klement.”

Chapter Fifteen

Richard’s eyes narrowed as he joined Cliff at the booth. “Are you drinking sangria?”

“Yeah.” The singer smiled. “I was in the mood for something sweet.”

That’s a girly drink, Richard thought, but he didn’t dare say it aloud. “My ex drank those fruity things.”

He paused. Was Cliff drinking Kat’s drink because he’d hooked up with her?

“Man, you look all pensive and shit all of a sudden,” Cliff complained. “She must have done a number on you.”

Richard nodded. “I was nothing but good to that girl, but not good enough.” He considered bringing up his suspicions about Kat cheating on him after the Bleeding Vengeance concert, but he decided it would be too risky.

Cliff clinked their glasses together. “I hear that. My voice and guitar are enough to get me almost any woman I want, but not enough to keep them.”

A pleasant buzz settled over Richard as they exchanged woman woes. With good booze, good conversation, hot chicks, and great music in the background, he found himself happier than he’d been in months. Cliff wasn’t a bad guy, he realized. Suddenly, he felt like an ass for sending him that dead cat. It wasn’t Cliff’s fault that Kat was a faithless slut. He wouldn’t do anything else to Cliff, he decided, and immediately felt better for it. Maybe they could even be real friends. Maybe he should quit bothering with Kat, too. Cliff would eventually find out how worthless she was, and hell, the look on her face when she found out that he was buddies with the band might be worth it. Maybe he could even take her spot as the guitarist for Bleeding Vengeance.

Richard quaffed his drink and cast an appreciative eye on a smoking hot bitch dancing to the music of the band. Maybe all he needed was to get laid.

He nudged Cliff. “Hey, check out that hot piece. We should have some fun.”

The singer frowned. “Her name’s Diane. I tried to hit her up last week but she wasn’t interested. She just went through a divorce.”

“So?”

“So she’s not interested in dating anyone right now.”

“Who says anything about dating? I was thinking we could tag team her in the restroom.”

Cliff’s eyes narrowed. “First off, I don’t share, and second, dude, are you talking about raping her?”

Richard shook his head vigorously. “No, nothing like that. I figure we could buy her drinks until she changes her mind. And we don’t have to share. Her friend’s kinda cute.”

Cliff’s frown deepened. “Nah, man, I don’t hold with any chick having to be drunk to want to get with me. Besides, I’m not in the mood to deal with women tonight.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” Just sitting here was getting boring.

Cliff shrugged. “Same thing I want to do every night after busting my ass in the studio. Drink.”

Richard laughed. “That’s understandable. And if you want something stronger, I’ve got some rock we could smoke.”

Cliff slammed his glass down on the table. Crimson liquid splashed on his hand, and his face was livid. “Did you not hear what happened to our last guitarist? I don’t touch that shit.”

“I’m sorry man, I just—”

Cliff shook his head and rose from the table. “I’m taking off. Have a good night.”

Through blurry eyes, Richard watched the singer head off to the pool tables and grab Roderick. He raised his hand to wave goodbye, but neither of the musicians looked at him.

***

Kat’s heart pounded as she gazed up at Klement, waiting for his reaction. Not knowing what else to do about the unbearable tension between them, she’d broken down and come up with this insane plan. She’d dressed in the sexiest outfit she had and marched into his office to find out if his kiss had been a fluke, if their attraction was only one-sided. Yes, before she confronted him about being IT Guy, she wanted one night in his arms.

Her plan was ridiculous. Now, as he stood staring down at her, her face burned with humiliation. She was an idiot. Grasping the edges of her robe, she started to cover herself, to turn and flee.

Strong hands seized her. Kat gasped as Klement yanked her into his arms, pulling her tight against his body. His lips came down on hers, searing hot and savage. A low moan escaped her throat as she rose up on her tiptoes and tangled her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

On and on the kiss went, spiraling her into a vortex of lust. Her knees went weak, legs turned to jelly as the intensity of his kiss overwhelmed her. Kat whimpered as she stumbled into the corner of his desk, breaking it.

“I’m sorry,” Klement whispered against her lips. Then he knelt, his hands sliding down her body and past her thighs to lift the hem of her negligee. He placed a gentle kiss on her hip where she’d bumped the desk.

She nearly stumbled again as his fingers caressed her thighs, moving higher and higher, until he was at the verge of touching the throbbing source of her need. Suddenly he stopped and rose to his feet. Kat nearly cried out in disappointment.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he said.

“But—”

He placed a hand at the small of her back, guiding her out of his office.

A sinking feeling weighed Kat’s stomach. She closed her eyes. Was he sending her back to her room? Then her eyes opened and she saw that they were heading into his.

Klement’s enormous California King-sized bed filled her vision. Her pulse rose and a thrill rushed through her body at the sound of the door closing and the lock clicking into place.

“We really shouldn’t do this,” he repeated as his hands wrapped around her waist.

Kat grasped his shoulders as he lifted her onto the high bed while he remained standing. Her hand tangled in his hair as she nibbled on his neck, savoring the salty taste of his skin. A low growl sounded in his throat as he slid the sheer robe off of her shoulders to puddle on the floor. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples.

She tugged at his shirt, eager to feel his bare skin. He pulled away a moment and obliged her, pulling the shirt up and over his head.

Kat’s jaw dropped at the sight of his bare chest. For such a lanky guy, he’d been hiding a lot of bulk. Her hungry gaze took in the cords of sinew and planes of muscle stretching over his broad shoulders, chest and abs. Reaching out, she lightly caressed his skin, marveling at its hot, firm feel. Her thumb brushed his stiff nipple, and she leaned forward to taste him.

Klement groaned and joined her on the bed, hands sliding all over her body, caressing and exploring. Kat sucked in a breath as his mouth closed over the sensitive part of her neck. Her hips arched forward, wanting more.

He moved close. She could feel his hardness straining against the rough fabric of his jeans. With one hand caressing his chest, she slid the other down his flat stomach and over the bulge between his legs. Klement made a hissing sound through his teeth. His fingers, which had been playing with her inner thighs, glided up beneath her soaking panties.

A cry escaped her lips at the magic he wrought on her clit and labia. He played her body with all of the intricacy and skill of a virtuoso. Fingers working exquisite pressure points and nerve endings like guitar strings, he wrought a song within her body, and Kat writhed on the bed beneath his ministrations, gasping and panting as her entire being sang with aching need.

Klement looked down at her, his lips curved in a rakish smile. “Do you want me to use my tongue?”

Unable to speak, she nodded. Richard had never done that.

She watched in naked awe at Klement’s primal beauty as he knelt between her legs and pulled her panties down over her hips and past her ankles. His hands moved beneath her to cup her ass. His head bent down, and his tongue flicked across her slick flesh. Her hips bucked, but he held her firm.

“Oh my God!”

She gasped at the intense sensation as his mouth closed over her mound. Klement’s tongue delved into every crevice and fold before darting over her clit, inflaming every nerve ending with electric frissons of unbearable pleasure. Then orgasm ripped through her, making her scream.

Kat lay back on the bed, chest heaving. She gathered her breath. Her core still ached with a need to be filled.

A low satisfied sound reverberated from Klement as he rested his head on her belly. When he sat up, however, Kat reached for his jeans, fumbling at the button and zipper, desperate to feel his cock.

Her hand finally closed over his hot, silken length. The tip of him was wet, and Kat licked her lips. She could imagine the taste and the scent and—

Klement rose from the bed and slipped off his jeans before grabbing a condom from the bedside drawer, but instead of slipping on the protection and giving her what she craved, he drew out her exquisite torture. Covering her body with his, he trailed his lips up and down the column of her throat, his hands reaching between their bodies to touch every inch of her exposed flesh. He pulled the negligee down, exposing her breasts to his hands and mouth.

“Please,” Kat gasped, unable anymore to bear his ministrations. “I need you inside of me.”

With record speed, he donned the condom, and Kat cried out as his thick cock slid inside her. Her nails dug into his back, pulling Klement closer, needing more.

He moved deep and slowly within her wetness, a hypnotic rhythm. All sense of time and consciousness ceased; her awareness narrowed solely to the delicious weight of him, their mingled heartbeats, the blissful fulfillment of him inside her. She clung to him, arching her hips up to meet his thrusts.

“Oh my God,” she whispered in a mindless mantra as her body was reduced to unadulterated sensation. Those whispers escalated to moans and cries. With each potent thrust her body clenched around him, riding the building waves of her next impending climax.

Stars exploded before her eyes, and her clit pulsed and throbbed in rhythmic ecstasy. Wracking tremors shook Kat as unfathomable pleasure crashed over her in a never-ending cascade, and just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, the jolts ebbed away, leaving her deliciously limp and boneless.

Through half-lidded eyes she watched Klement’s glorious form rising up over her, his head thrown back as his own climax. Kat felt another surge of pleasure as his deep groan vibrated against her chest, and she felt him shudder within her.

He collapsed on top of her. For a while they two lay entwined, panting and trembling. Kat raised a languid hand and caressed his cheek. She stared at him, awestruck at the power of what he’d made her feel.

Slowly, he lowered his head and placed a chaste kiss on her lips before rolling off to flop on his back.

“I can’t believe we did that,” he said finally.

“Mmmm-hmmm,” Kat mumbled, still reeling in the aftershocks of her orgasm, incapable of coherent speech. Reluctant to allow the break in their contact, she trailed her fingers along his bicep, admiring the sight of his naked body, glistening from their lovemaking.

He moved away and got up from the bed. Kat watched him stride across the room into the bathroom to remove the condom, and his butt looked even cuter without pants.

Kat sighed and sat up, searching for her panties. Tugging them on, she carefully slid off of the high bed and adjusted her disheveled nightgown. Every inch of her skin tingled from Klement’s touch.

When he emerged, she rose and moved toward him, wanting to wrap her arms around him and press her cheek against his chest. But the coolness of his voice stopped her.

“We should get dressed,” he said, pulling on his boxer briefs. “The guys should be back any time. They won’t stay out too late on a recording night.”

Kat got the hint.

Fleeing to her room, she changed into a t-shirt and jeans. Passing the mirror, she halted at the sight of her messed up hair and puffy lips. The memory of what happened to put her in that state gave her a delicious shiver, and yet the sound of the front door opening and Cliff and Rod’s drunken voices down the hall had her scrambling for the hairbrush.

When she emerged from her room, she heard Klement talking with them in the music room. On quaking legs, she headed up the stairs to join them. Every step made her hyper aware of the tenderness between her thighs.

Klement glanced at her before turning back to Cliff. Their brief eye contact was enough to make unbearable longing spear her through the chest.

Rod smiled as she joined them. “Hello, love. Had enough clicking away on your computer?”

“Um, yeah.” That’s what she was supposed to have been doing.

She looked over at Klement again, only from the corner of her eye, but he was loading his pipe with studious concentration. Clearly he didn’t want anyone to know what they’d done, and her stomach churned with something like hurt. Was he ashamed?

If so, what did that mean for the future? Any of it?

Chapter Sixteen

Klement struggled to focus on Cliff and Rod’s chatter, but from the moment Kat came up to the music room and sat next to his drummer, he couldn’t stop looking at her. Her scruffy jeans and t-shirt didn’t stop him from picturing the curves of her luscious body, curves that he’d explored with his hands and mouth.

What had he been thinking? He’d just had sex with a colleague, a woman he’d promised to protect. This was going to wreak havoc on their working relationship, and it would bring him hell when she inevitably broke his heart. But when she’d come into his office wearing unbearably sexy lingerie, he’d been incapable of resisting her.

He should be angry with her for that, but he couldn’t muster up even the slightest hostility. That had been the best sex of his life. One would think their vast size difference would have made things awkward, with him being six-five and her only five feet tall, but her body fit to his like she was made for him.

As he raised the pipe to his lips, the scent of Kat’s arousal, still on his fingers, filled his senses. God, she’d smelled so good. And she’d tasted and felt even better. He lowered the pipe. He didn’t want weed. He wanted Kat. Again and again. Like a potent drug, one taste had him hooked.

Before his arousal returned, he shifted his attention back to his friends. “How was the Hellion?”

Roderick shrugged. “I lost twenty bucks on pool, and Cliff hung out with his new friend.”

Cliff shook his head, clearly perturbed. “I don’t know if I want to hang out with that guy anymore. He turned out to be kinda whacked.”

Klement leaned forward. “Oh? What happened?”

“First he suggested grabbing this chick off the dance-floor for a three-way…”

Rod perked up. “A little double stuff? Nothing wrong with that.”

“I’m not into it, but if that’s his thing, fine.” Cliff took the pipe and ran a thumb down the swirling blue glass. “It was the fact that when I pointed out she wasn’t interested in doing anything with anyone Rick got all date-rapist about it.”

Kat shuddered. “Ugh, he sounds like my ex. He was always trying to get me to agree to having a threesome with Kinley, and when I told him first off, ‘Kinley would never go for it,’ and second, ‘Hell no.’ He kept trying to get us drunk. Kinley wouldn’t even hang out with us for awhile because she was scared he’d slip something into her booze.”

Klement’s frown deepened. The more he heard about her ex, the more he sounded like a piece of shit, and his protective instincts raced to the forefront. I would never treat you or your friends like that, he wanted to assure her.

Roderick leaned back in his chair with a smirk. “I don’t blame him for wanting that.” At Kat’s glare he held up his hands. “But I wouldn’t be like that, I swear. I know what ‘no’ means.”

Cliff took a hit off the pipe, filling the room with the slightly skunky odor of burnt weed. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have been surprised if this guy had busted out some roofies, but instead he suggested we do some crank. Even in my coke days I never touched that shit.” His mouth twisted into a disgusted scowl. “That’s when I left.”

He passed the pipe to Kat, who passed it to Roderick then frowned. “So, hanging out with him when he was being all rapey was okay, but when he offered you meth it was a problem? I mean, I hate tweakers, but…”

Klement nodded. “She’s got you there.” Still, he was relieved that Cliff had taken the band’s official stance on hard drugs to heart.

“No, I wasn’t going to keep hanging around with him,” Cliff countered. “I was even about to tell him so, but then he brought up that shit and I was just done.”

“A tweaker-rapist.” Klement shook his head as Rod passed him back the pipe. “Man, you know how to pick ’em.” He glanced back at Kat. Her upper lip still curled in revulsion.

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m social. I give everyone a chance.” Cliff leaned back in his chair. “Besides, he seemed cool before that. I wish I hadn’t given him that backstage pass. Hopefully he’ll spend all of his money on smack and won’t be able to get a plane ticket.”

Klement handed over the pipe. “We can hope. At least these things are always crowded, so he should be easy to avoid.”

Kat looked up quickly and blushed before turning back to the others. “He just better stay the hell away from me.”

“Don’t worry,” Klement said. “I…ah, we will keep you away from the creeps. Plus, there’s always a lot of security at these things.”

Their eyes met once more, sending an arc of heat between them. Kat’s face pinkened further before she rose from her seat.

“Well, I’m going to bed. G’night, guys.”

As Klement watched her leave the room, he felt like an invisible cord bound them, pulling tighter the further away she went.

After a long, awkward silence, he got up from his seat. “I think I’m going to crash, too. I’ve got those bass tracks tomorrow.”

Once downstairs, he paused by Kat’s door. What would she do if he knocked? A thousand delicious fantasies played out in his mind, but reluctantly he continued on to his own room. There his gaze lit on her satin robe, still pooled on his bedroom floor. Scooping it up, he inhaled the silken fabric. It still smelled like her.

He needed to return the robe to her tomorrow before the guys saw it. They didn’t usually go in his room, but he didn’t want to take any risks. However, he couldn’t give it back to Kat tonight.

After undressing and climbing into bed, he tucked the robe under his arm, wishing instead for the softness of her skin.

***

Kat’s stomach roiled with butterflies as she joined Klement in his Suburban the next morning. It was the first time they’d been alone together since he’d taken her into his bed.

She’d been up all night trying to figure out what to say to him, rehearsing imaginary conversations in her head. Would they do it again? Was she now his girlfriend, or was it a one-time thing that he never wanted to repeat? She hadn’t really given him much opportunity to say no. She’d just barged into his office in sexy lingerie and thrown herself at him. What normal guy would pass that up?

But, as much as she should be ashamed for her behavior, she couldn’t muster more than a twinge of remorse. Klement’s lovemaking had been magical. Earth-shattering.

She peeked over at him as he drove down the windy mountain road, studying the sharp angles of his cheeks, the curve of his lips that had been between her thighs. His large, lean body that had been entwined with hers. Had the experience been as powerful for him? Kat practically vibrated with frustration at the unanswered questions. If she didn’t have some sort of closure or resolution soon, she’d go insane.

Klement kept his eyes on the road, his hand at ten and two on the steering wheel like a model driver’s ed student. He had to be feeling the awkwardness, too. Didn’t he?

She opened her mouth, closed it, then took a deep breath and found her voice. “A-about last night…”

His gaze whipped to hers, intense with unreadable emotion. “I’m still processing that. Can we discuss it later?”

“Okay.” Kat sank back in her seat. “Are we still cool?” Was he mad at her?

His voice softened. “Of course we are.” He reached out and squeezed her hand quickly before returning his grip to the steering wheel. “I just need to focus on my session today, okay?”

A thrill ran through her at the small physical contact, brief as it was. “I understand.”

Actually, tension in her muscles eased at his gentle tone. At least he didn’t seem to be too mad at her.

At the studio, Kat felt a different sort of awkwardness, as she didn’t have any sessions herself. Today they were focusing on the bass and drums. Klement had told her that she could stay home, but she wanted to watch him play—and spend a few stolen moments alone with him in the truck if she could get them.

To her surprise, Cliff had managed to drag his hungover ass out of bed to accompany Roderick. He met her in the sound engineer’s booth and offered her a McDonald’s hash brown. Kat was beginning to suspect that he was one of those people who couldn’t stand to be alone. Her mom was like that, and Kat would call her soon. She should. Right now, her aunt was staying there. She hoped they two were having a good time.

Her thoughts broke off as Klement stepped into the recording booth. She admired his confident demeanor as he shrugged the strap holding his bass over his shoulders, donned the headphones, and signaled for the engineer to begin.

Frank pushed a button, and Klement began playing, but Kat couldn’t hear a thing. Feeling like an idiot, she grabbed a pair of headphones from the table and put them on.

Throbbing bass notes filled her ears, thrumming through her body and pulsing in her blood. It took her a moment to recognize that he was playing his riffs for “Sorrow’s Harvest.” Kat’s lips parted as she watched his fingers dance along the fret board in a blur of speed, but it was his right hand that plucked the strings with a deftness that made heat unfurl in her lower body. Last night, those skilled fingers had worked their magic on her, inside her.

To her embarrassment, she found herself getting wet again. Even though Cliff and the sound guy couldn’t see her predicament, she couldn’t help but cast them guilty looks. What was it about this man that affected her so much?

Cliff’s eyes were closed as he mouthed the lyrics to the song and moved his fingers in time with the rhythm section. Kat clenched her fists, determined to follow his example and focus on the music instead of lusting after the musician.

Bringing forth her guitar solos from memory, Kat moved her own fingers in time with her parts. Tapping her foot to compensate for the missing drum beat, she let the music overtake her consciousness, drowning her in melodious desire.

When the bass stopped mid-song, the silence was as sudden as a bucket of ice water, and Kat’s eyes snapped open as Cliff pushed the microphone button.

“You sped up after the third bridge.” He released the button and turned to Kat. “Now we get a chance to get back at him for his nit-picking.”

Klement’s voice filled her ears. “Damn it, I was afraid of that. Should I start over at the second?”

In the end, it took three takes for him to get the bass track for the first song and four takes for the second. Kat tried to give helpful feedback, but mostly she remained transfixed watching and listening to him.

After all of her years of listening to Bleeding Vengeance, how had she not realized before how incredible he was? His riffs were fast and complex, blowing the usual pedestrian thrums of many bassists out of the water. He was fierce, he was dynamic. And as she watched him move with his instrument like he was joined to it, she’d never seen anyone look so powerful, so alive.

On the ride back home, he was so quiet and fidgety that she didn’t dare broach the subject of their lovemaking again.

Klement fixed a quick dinner of halushki for them back at the house, a delicious Czech pasta dish, before retreating to his office. Kat went to her own room and tried to call Kinley, but her friend’s phone was out of service. With a sigh, Kat settled on fiddling with their website and writing a post on Thrashfest.

Klement’s door opened, and his footsteps came down the hall. Was it her imagination or had he paused for a moment nearby? The urge to follow him made her muscles twinge, but Kat stayed in her seat. The last thing she wanted was to be seen trailing after him like a lost puppy.

Her phone rang. Gratitude filled her for the distraction, until she looked at the caller ID and her heart stopped.

It was IT Guy.

Why was Klement calling her as his alias? They didn’t have any website work scheduled until next week before she left for Thrashfest.

She took a deep breath and willed herself to sound normal as she answered. “Hey, IT Guy.”

“Hi, Kat.” It was Klement all right, though his voice echoed over the speakerphone and he was adding a slight Southern accent to his usual tone. “I’m calling to let you know that I’ll be unavailable for the next couple of days.”

Also, there was a sound of rushing air in the background. The noise triggered her memory, and she figured out where he was calling from. The grow room.

“Oh? Where are you going?” What excuse was he going to come up with?

“I’m going to take a break and figure some things out,” he said quietly. “Something in my professional life is getting…personal.”

Was he talking about her? He had to be. Nothing could be more of a professional and personal conflict than her getting naked with him last night. But did he mean it in a good way or bad way?

“Me too,” she couldn’t help saying.

“Hmmm.” Uncomfortable silence ensued before he spoke again. “So, how’s everything going with the band?”

As much as he must be trying to hide it, he sounded nervous. As she understood. It was so weird talking about Klement to Klement.

“Great. Almost all of my guitar tracks are done, and they invited me to play Thrashfest with them.”

“Excellent!” He sounded genuinely enthused. “And how are the guys treating you? None of them are getting inappropriate, are they?”

Kat had to cover her mouth to conceal a startled squeak. Was he worried about how he behaved last night? She laughed. “No, but I’m afraid I got a little inappropriate with the bassist.”

He feigned a scandalized gasp. “You naughty girl.” Then he sighed. “I thought you were going to wait for me.”

“You never expressed any interest that way,” she retorted, momentarily forgetting who she was really talking to. “I don’t know where you live, what you look like. Hell, I don’t even know your name.” Well, now I do.

“I was just teasing you,” he said quickly. “Wait. You mean I would have had a chance?”

What kind of a game was he playing? Kat answered honestly. “Yes, if we’d ever had the opportunity to meet. But I guess that’s a moot point for now. I’m going to see how things go with Klement.”

“What’s he like?”

Klement’s curiosity emanated from the phone. He wanted to know what she thought of him?

“He’s funny and kind, and extremely intelligent.” Kat couldn’t hold back a smile. “He’s a lot like you.”

IT Guy Klement laughed. “Sounds like you have good taste. I hope everything works out with that.”

“Me, too. And I hope everything works out with your situation too.” She meant every word. After all, it was her situation as well.

“I’ll let you know when we talk again.” Klement paused awhile before he sighed. “Well, it’s getting late. I better let you go.”

“Goodnight, IT Guy.” Klement, she mouthed in addition.

After hanging up, Kat paced the length of her room, mind spinning with the implications of their conversation. Was it possible he was considering telling her the truth? God, she hoped so. That would spare her the awkwardness of confronting him. Except…what would she say when he told her who he was? Should she tell him she already knew? Or should she pretend to be surprised? The thought of further deceit churned her stomach.

She replayed their conversation in her mind. It seemed like he’d wanted to check up on her and gauge her feelings about what happened between them. But why couldn’t he have just talked about it with her in person? Was he more insecure even than she was?

Taking a Xanax and changing into her pajamas, she struggled to calm her racing thoughts. Klement had been right about one thing. It was late and she would be worthless in the studio if she didn’t get some rest.

After brushing her teeth, she headed back to her room. Klement met her in the hall, her robe tucked under his arm. She froze at the sight of his tall, handsome form, studying his face for answers to a million questions.

“I thought I’d return this,” he whispered, giving an enigmatic half smile that made her want to leap into his arms and wrap her legs around him. Despite the strange situation with his deception, she still wanted him more than anyone else she’d ever wanted.

“Thanks.” She took the silky garment, enjoying the brief touch of his hands. She was about to say something else—she didn’t know what—but he’d already turned and walked back to his room. It took every effort not to follow.

Kat carried her robe back to her room. She was about to toss it in the dirty clothes pile, but then she caught a whiff of a tantalizing, masculine scent. Lifting the black satin to her face, she realized it smelled like Klement.

Even though it was the sort of childish thing a teenager would do, Kat took the garment to bed with her, cuddling it tightly as she slept and dreamed of him.

Chapter Seventeen

The hours at the studio dragged for Klement. Normally he loved this point of the process, when everything was coming together, but now it only seemed to rob him of time with Kat. Though only a glass partition separated them, she was impossible to touch.

Even worse was Cliff’s disillusionment with his drinking buddy. Because of that, he and Rod had stayed in last night, and it looked like they’d do the same tonight, giving him no excuse to do anything naughty with Kat. He should be grateful for that. Messing around with her could only cause trouble.

And, he still needed to figure out how he was going to tell her that he was IT Guy. The deception couldn’t remain, not after he’d slept with her. He really shouldn’t touch her again until she knew the truth.

Despite that reasoning, he found himself hard as a rock the moment they were alone together in his Suburban. Alas, they had to run to the parts store and then finish up fixing her car. That was the first priority, he told himself.

Once working, Klement busied himself putting the injector back in the throttle body while Kat changed the tire. But, while reconnecting the hoses and wires to the throttle body and air cleaner, her presence became sheer torture. To hell with the consequences, he had to have her again.

An idea unfurled in his mind. Tempting and dangerous.

His fingers curled at his sides as he resisted the urge to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. “Well, shall we fire up your car and see if it works?”

She nodded and dug her keys out of her pocket, and Klement chuckled as she jerked the driver’s seat forward so she could reach the pedals. After giving him a look full of anxious hope, she turned the key. The station wagon’s engine cranked over with a roar.

Her eyes widened, and her lips curved up in a broad grin. “Oh my God, it works!” She scrambled out of the car and jumped up and down before running over to him and giving him a big hug. “And she sounds even better than she did before.”

Reluctantly, Klement disengaged from her embrace before she felt his raging hard-on from the sight of her bouncing breasts. “We should get cleaned up.”

She followed him to the industrial sink he’d installed at the corner of his shop. After they’d scrubbed their hands with a caustic but effective degreasing soap, Klement turned. Kat’s t-shirt had gotten wet, revealing the dark lacy shape of her bra beneath the fabric, and madness overtook him. He pulled Kat into his arms and covered her mouth in a hungry kiss.

It didn’t stop there. After devouring her mouth for what felt like a blissful eternity, he sank to his knees and lifted her shirt. He kissed along the outside of her bra before pulling it down and taking a delectable nipple into his mouth, and her throaty moan was like an aphrodisiac, bringing his desire to a heated frenzy. He rolled her nipple between his fingers, circling his tongue around the other.

“I still haven’t processed anything regarding the other night,” he murmured against her silken flesh. “I just can’t seem to stay away from you.”

“Me neither.”

Then Kat reached down and fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, bringing back a semblance of mental clarity. He broke away from her and strode to the shop door.

“Oh, God. You can’t stop now,” she whimpered.

“Stop?” He laughed mirthlessly. “There’s no way in hell I’m able to stop. I’m just locking the doors so we don’t get interrupted.”

The lock clicked with tantalizing finality and promise.

Kat seized him by the hips and unfastened his jeans, freeing his engorged cock. Sinking to her knees, she took him in her hot, wet mouth.

Klement tangled his hands in her hair and threw back his head in sheer ecstasy as her lips and tongue worked magic on his throbbing shaft.

“God, Kat,” he gasped. “If you keep this up, I’m going to come.”

“Mmmm.” Her voice vibrated along his hardness.

He withdrew himself from her mouth and pulled her to her feet, unzipping her jeans before he bent her over the hood of the car. Sliding the denim down past her hips, he reached around to flick his finger along her swollen clit. She was hot and slippery with wetness. Kat gasped and moaned, but he didn’t stop teasing her sweet core until she was whimpering.

“Please, please…”

He did like to hear her beg.

Reaching into his back pocket, he got a condom from his wallet. His lips curved in an ironic smile. He didn’t normally carry them. Some part of him must have anticipated this from the start.

Despite the latex barrier, sliding inside Kat felt like heaven. Reaching beneath her shirt, he caressed the smooth skin of her back before grabbing her shoulders and pulling her against him, driving himself deeper. Her moan of pleasure rippled through his body, intensifying his own joy. He quickened his movements, reveling in every angle and sensation of his cock moving in and out of her tight center.

The rhythm broke when Kat reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Not wanting her to be distracted, Klement gently gathered her dark tresses into his hand. But maybe he pulled too tight.

“Oh, yes,” she gasped. “Harder.”

Primal eroticism jolted through him as he tightened his grip on her hair and pulled.

“Yes!”

With one fist in her hair, he yanked on her locks and deepened his thrusts.

“Harder,” she moaned.

With a low growl, he complied, mercilessly slamming his cock into her, his grip on her hair holding her captive, jerking her against his body to meet his assault. His other hand slid up from her clit and up under her shirt to grasp her breast.

“Oh, God, yes!” she cried out as he pinched her nipple.

The feel of her hips bucking against him, and her tight, wet heat clamping down on his cock made him lightheaded with pleasure.

“Please don’t stop,” she whimpered as he tugged her hair almost brutally. “Yes, like that. Oh please, please—”

Her words broke off in a wordless cry as her pussy clenched around him in rapid spasms. The musky scent of her arousal permeated the shop as she slammed her hips against his, riding him just as hard as he was riding her. The sound of their flesh colliding heightened his arousal to a new level.

Klement threw his head back as his orgasm tore through him, jolting from his cock, tightening his balls and spiraling all the way down to his toes. The climax ricocheted through him in a never-ending loop, intoxicating and relentless. And when he thought he couldn’t take any more, the pleasure subsided into bone-melting bliss.

At last he released her hair and rested his hands on the hood of the car as she continued to gasp and quiver around him. It was almost enough to make him ready again, if not for his muscles feeling like jelly.

“Oh my God,” he panted against her neck.

“I know,” she whispered. “That was amazing.”

Reality seeped into his blissful satiation, darkening the glow. “I hope no one heard us.”

“Oh shit, I was kinda loud.”

Reluctantly, he withdrew from her and helped her to stand. “Yeah, you were.”

As they pulled up their pants, Kat suddenly frowned.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She looked down at her toes. “Well, as long as this is going on, do you plan on getting um…involved with anyone else?”

“No.” He chuckled. Jealous already? It might have irritated him, but instead he found it adorable. He felt the same way about her.

Studying the floor with intense concentration, she continued. “There’s one more thing. I need a ride to a pharmacy to refill my Xanax and birth control, but I also want to…um…well, it occurred to me that we didn’t use any protection for oral, so…”

“So you’d like us to go get tested?”

She nodded, face flaming.

Klement frowned at her discomfort. Why did society make people so embarrassed to address practicalities? “Don’t be nervous about common sense. You don’t know my history, and I don’t know yours. You can be straight with me about anything, Katana.”

She gave him a level look. “And you can be straight with me as well.”

Guilt gnawed at his gut. So, yes, he needed to tell her everything. Unfortunately, now wasn’t the best time. “I’ll make us appointments, okay?”

“Okay.”

Suddenly, her eyes glimmered with mischief. “Hey, if we check out, maybe you can come in my mouth.”

He just stared at her. Her words made his sated cock stir with renewed hunger. And maybe I can feel you without a condom, he wanted to add. But instead of giving voice to his wicked thoughts, he chucked her on the chin. “You’re terrible.”

Actually, though, he was the terrible one—for getting into a relationship with her and not telling her the whole truth. And, with a trip to the clinic in the works, this was definitely a relationship.

Klement shoved his hands in his pockets as they left his garage workshop. He would have to tell her soon, definitely. After talking with her last night, he’d gotten the impression that she really cared about him—about both of his identities. Hell, she’d told him that he, as IT Guy, would have had a chance with her, but now she intended to be faithful to him as Klement. Surely she’d embrace him as both…right?

***

Kat walked with Klement back to the house. She was sore everywhere, but she relished the aches of her shoulders and hips. Most of all, she treasured the tenderness between her thighs.

Her scalp also hurt a bit from him pulling her hair. Heat crept into her cheeks. What had she been thinking to ask him to do that? What if he thought she was some kind of freak? But he must not have, because he’d been all too enthusiastic to comply with her request. With a secret smile she ran a hand through her hair, attempting to straighten up some of its mess. Sure, they’d been working on the car, but she was pretty sure she looked more disheveled than warranted.

When they entered the house, Cliff and Rod were in the kitchen devouring plates of nachos. Kat’s stomach growled. After filling a plate, she didn’t hear a word anyone said until she’d devoured the whole thing and went back for seconds. Who knew that working on cars followed by wild, illicit sex could give someone such an appetite?

“Mike called while you were working,” Rod said as he rummaged through the freezer for ice cream. “The press release for Thrashfest was sent out today, that we’ll be there with a new guitarist.”

Kat blinked. In that case, she’d have to check her email and see if the release was sent to her site as well. Either way, she’d have to post something about it, either just mentioning that there would be a new face in the lineup, or coming out and saying she’d joined the band. It wouldn’t do for Chatterhead and Rocktalk to be the only ones with the official scoop. For a moment she resented her oath of confidentiality with the band. She had so many juicy off-the-record details. Then she remembered the juiciest thing was her.

“That’s cool.” Klement nodded before turning to Kat. “Looks like you’ll be spreading the word on your site?”

Rod passed around fudge pops. “About that. Mike wants to know if he can release the identity of our new guitarist.”

Kat’s hands trembled on the wrapper of the treat she’d been given.

“Well, it is time, I suppose,” Klement said.

Cliff frowned. “But we’re going to clarify that it’s only for Thrashfest, right?”

“Sort of.” Klement licked his fudge pop, momentarily distracting Kat. “We’ll clarify that we’re going to see how she works out with us on the road and make an official announcement about our decision once we’re sure, though in all actuality we can’t say anything until she signs the contract.”

He glanced at her and Kat shivered. A contract. With a big record company. She hadn’t even considered that part.

Klement suddenly shunted that aside with a fresh new worry. His tone was harsh and cold. “What’s the matter, Cliff? Do you not want her in the band?”

“Whoa, man.” The singer held up his hands and turned to Kat. “I didn’t mean it that way! I think you’re an amazing guitarist. Hell, you might be even better than me. My point was that I really don’t know if you’ll be able to handle playing on a big stage in front of thousands of people. I hope you do fine, but we won’t know until then. I mean, the last band I was in would have had an amazing drummer—though not as good as Rod—but the guy totally blew it on the first big gig and dropped out.”

Kat nodded. “That’s fair enough.”

“All right then.” Cliff tapped his fudge pop on his lower lip. “Now that we’re all on the same page, we’d better get you ready for Thrashfest. I think you should wear one of those sexy outfits like you wore to the club the other night. The fans will totally dig it.”

“No way.” Klement’s fist hit the table. “For one thing, that is way too gimmicky. For another, sexing her up will just make people think we took her on because of her looks. The focus needs to be on her talent just as much as it is with the rest of us.” He glanced at her again before quickly looking away. “Besides, it’s already clear that she’s a beautiful woman. There’s no need to capitalize on it.”

Kat’s body warmed all over. He just called me beautiful in front of everyone! Even more important, he didn’t want her to be seen as a promotional sex object.

“You have a point there,” Cliff said. Nodding, he turned back to Kat. “Besides, I’m supposed to be the sex symbol of the band.” He flexed his muscles and did a dorky pose that reminded her of a cover of a Mills & Boon romance from the seventies. “It wouldn’t do for you to usurp that from me.”

Kat grinned. “I think your position will always be safe.”

Klement gave her a look from the corner of his eye. His frown concerned Kat. Had he missed the light sarcasm in her tone? Was he jealous? After what they’d shared, did he really think she’d hit on Cliff? How insulting. And her eyes narrowed as she continued thinking. Why didn’t Klement say anything about them being together? Why did he want to keep their involvement secret? It wouldn’t bother these two, would it?

They all finished their fudge pops and waited while Klement made a few phone calls to their publicist and tour manager. Kat wondered if he also made their appointments at the clinic. She still couldn’t believe he’d been so cool and down to earth about that. Richard had pitched a fit when she’d broached the subject of him getting tested, so she’d gotten herself tested and refused to let him touch her without a condom. No oral either.

The distasteful memories of her ex fled when Klement returned. God, he was so much better than Richard in every way.

They all went upstairs to practice a few songs, but Kat was actually relieved when Cliff begged off, too drunk to continue. Her own fingers were a little sore from working on the bolts, and she was ready to head back to her room and drafted her blog post announcing her upcoming participation in Thrashfest.

Her stomach knotted with anxiety as she cut and rewrote sentence after sentence, agonizing over every line, but the sound of Klement’s soft muttering and the rhythmic clatter of his keyboard down the hall acted as a soothing balm. Eventually she got the post exactly how she wanted: highlighting the good, glossing over the details of how she’d been hired, and omitting any hint of bad. Also, she made sure she sounded humble and not a braggart about her induction into the band, but she also didn’t sound like the terrified wimp she really was.

After hitting PUBLISH on the post, Kat shut down her computer and headed out to get a glass of water before bed. She encountered Klement in the hallway.

He grinned. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“I posted my announcement.”

“Awesome!” He raised his hand for a high five. “What are people saying?”

“No idea. I shut everything down right after I posted. I’m too scared to look.”

He made a noise that sounded like a cross between amusement and frustration. “You’re going to have to moderate the comments.”

She crossed her arms. “No, I won’t. I’ll have Kinley do it…or maybe my IT Guy.” She peered up at him through lowered lashes.

Klement’s face darkened a moment, and he remained quiet longer than usual. “Kinley would be your better bet,” he said finally. “She knows more about what you want for the vibe of your site, which criticisms to keep and which to delete. But you’d really be the best one for the job.”

“Nah.” She shook her head. “I’m too biased and sensitive to be objective.”

Klement placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s going to be fine.”

Kat rose up on her toes and reached for him, her lips parted for a kiss. Unfortunately, footsteps sounded on the stairs. One of the guys was heading their way, and Klement released her and walked away, giving a minute shake of his head.

Stinging from the rejection, Kat went back to her room. Climbing into bed, she curled up with the robe that still faintly smelled like him. The lullaby sound of his voice down the hall reminded her again of IT Guy, and as her eyelids drifted closed she whispered, “When are you going to tell me the truth?”

Chapter Eighteen

Klement led Kat out of the clinic, hiding a smile at her beet-red face. Though he didn’t like seeing her uncomfortable, she was adorable when she blushed.

He patted her shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s all over with.”

“I feel so violated every time,” she admitted as they got into his Suburban. “My mom calls it the ‘salad scoops.’”

He cringed in sympathy. “It’s no picnic for dudes either.”

The majority of the ride home passed in an awkward silence. Though, from the corner of his eye, Klement watched Kat fidget on the seat and gnaw her lip like she wanted to say something.

Just as he was about to tell her to spit it out, she spoke.

“Klement?”

“Yeah?”

Her fingers twisted on her lap. “Why don’t you want the others to know that we’re…um…involved?”

He sighed. He’d known she was going to go there, especially after last night. And she had a point. “The main reason is that I don’t want them to think I’m having you play Thrashfest because I’m biased.”

“You’re not, are you?”

He shook his head as she peered at him intently. “No. If you weren’t qualified, I would have found someone else.”

“Ah. So, what’s the other reason?”

“It’s complicated.”

How could he tell her that he was afraid she’d ditch him once she learned about the secret he’d been keeping from her? And if she didn’t ditch him, how could he tell her how much it would kill him if he publicly acknowledged that she was his only to have her be wooed away by someone else? Like fucking Cliff. God, what if it was Cliff? He wasn’t about to believe that Cliff had given up yet.

“Complicated,” Kat repeated drily. “Like anything’s simple between us?”

Klement laughed. “You have a point.”

“It’s not just because the secrecy adds more spice to it, is it?” She licked her lips. “I mean, it is kinda hot—though inconvenient.”

“Of course not. That part is almost more hassle than it’s worth.”

She pouted, but he saw a glimmer of real pain in her eyes. “Do you mean you don’t want to…anymore?”

“I said almost,” Klement clarified quickly. He was maybe more impatient-sounding than he intended. “We wouldn’t have gotten tested if I didn’t want to have sex with you anymore.”

“Oh, okay.”

Kat lapsed back into silence for the rest of the drive. Once they got home, she made a sandwich and disappeared into her room. He knew she was hurt by some of his answers, but he didn’t know how to fix that. Rod and Cliff were staying in again tonight, so he couldn’t attempt to talk to her. Not without imperiling their secrecy.

Sighing, he made his own sandwich and retreated to his office to play with the security footage. No luck yet, but he might as well do something useful. Any time now he might find a frame he could actually manipulate into providing useful information. So he worked until it was two A.M. and his eyes were grainy.

He didn’t see Kat until the next morning. Unfortunately, because he slept in so late, he didn’t have time to even eat breakfast with her. Even more depressing was that she took her own car so they didn’t ride together.

Getting through the session was tedious. Kat’s parts came out fine, but Cliff was so upset that his Internet troll had returned that he played his parts over again five times before getting them right.

“I told you to ignore that shit,” Klement scolded.

“I know, but he’s so hostile that it’s creepy.” Cliff’s eyes were wide with unease. “What if it’s the dead-cat guy?”

Klement hadn’t considered that. “Okay, I’ll try to track his IP address and see if I can figure out who it is.” He shook his head, already dreading the arduous process. “But if it turns out to be some thirteen-year-old kid, you’re going to owe me.”

“Thanks, man.”

The owner of the studio handed over copies of the security footage from the last two weeks, which Klement had requested to see if he could spot the same Kia from his own footage. Damn, though, the work kept piling up. At this rate he’d never get the chance to get things figured out with Kat.

Heading back to the house, it was agony not to keep checking the rearview mirror to make sure Kat was behind him.

Once he pulled into the driveway, he cursed as his phone rang. His mood lightened when he realized it was the clinic. The results had gotten back fairly quickly. Of course, his big donation probably helped with that.

He headed into his office for privacy as the nurse delivered the verdict. He was clean, which didn’t surprise him, but it was nice to know. Leaning back in his office chair, he stretched. He should tell Kat the good news and see if she’d gotten her results yet.

He frowned, suddenly feeling selfish for the excitement at the potential to go in bareback. Just because they had a clean bill of health didn’t resolve everything. It was time to come clean about him being her IT Guy as well. Honesty was the first part of any real relationship. Even—or especially—the complicated ones.

Closing his eyes, he formulated a plan. It was absolutely ridiculous, but it had the benefit of a purely open reveal of the truth, and it could potentially stave off a scene. However, just in case things blew up in his face, he wanted at least one more brief time in her arms.

Was that wrong?

***

Kat breathed a small sigh of relief as she got off the phone with the clinic. She was clean. The skeevy STD-ridden rockstar stereotype did not, apparently, apply to Klement. Granted, she’d been fairly certain that he wasn’t that type, but ever since the time Richard had gotten her drunk and snuck in without a condom, she’d grown paranoid. Waiting for those results had been more agonizing and taken longer.

She still couldn’t believe Klement had given the clinic a fat donation to ensure they worked quickly. Was he so anxious to touch her again? She was anxious to touch him. So was this why he hadn’t approached her last night? Had he wanted to wait for the verdict?

Suddenly nervous but also dying to know, she left her room just as Klement emerged from his office.

“I got the all clear,” she said softly.

He smiled. “Me too.” Glancing over her shoulder down the hall, he reached out and stroked her hair. His eyes glittered with unbanked desire. “Maybe if we can get rid of the guys tonight, we can celebrate.”

Raw need coursed through her. “God, I hope so.”

Alas, the Fates conspired against them. She perked up with excitement when, after dinner, Cliff asked Rod to take him out drinking, but Rod declined.

“Sorry, mate, I have a bastard of a headache.” The drummer rubbed his temples. “Too much beating on my kit. I’m going to take a Motrin and lie down.”

The singer turned to Kat with an entreating smile. “What about you, babe?”

“Um.” She fumbled for an excuse. “I gotta monitor the comments on my announcement that I’ll be playing Thrashfest. The website’s exploding, both with comments congratulating me and others outraged that I’m going to be playing.” Which was exactly why she’d stuck Kinley with moderator duty. She wasn’t anywhere ready to read the fandom’s reactions in depth.

Cliff pouted and nodded reluctantly. “I understand. I hope it’s not too big of a clusterfuck.” He ran a hand through his hair and paced the kitchen. “Damn. And speaking of Internet crazies, Klement’s gonna be too busy tracking down mine to take me to the bar. Maybe I should just go by myself.”

“No,” Klement said firmly, speaking up from the other end of the table. “Not tonight. We also have real-life crazies to worry about. Not to mention the fact that you can’t afford another DUI.”

The singer’s pout deepened. “Fine. Though you realize we haven’t had anything happen in a while. Maybe the son of a bitch gave up.”

“Those kind of loons never give up,” Klement grunted. He shot Cliff a glare. “Hey, that’s my rum.”

“Come on, man, you won’t let me go anywhere and I’m out of whiskey.” The singer rummaged in the fridge for a can of Coke. “Besides, you barely drink. You’re letting it go to waste.”

Klement sighed. “You eat all my food, smoke all my weed, and now you wanna drink all my booze?”

“Oh, speaking of weed—”

Rod perked up. “I do have a headache, you know.”

Klement laughed. “Oh, all right, let’s go upstairs.”

Heavy with disappointment, Kat headed to her room. Always with the weed-smoking. Why couldn’t those other two just take off for a little while so she could be alone with Klement? And why was he allowing them to smoke up all of his stuff?

A twinge of shame struck her at her hostility. They were her bandmates. It was wrong to bear them resentment, especially if they were all interested in the same thing. At least there was always tomorrow. And maybe Klement would be up for watching a movie with her later tonight. After all, she enjoyed his company when they were clothed as well.

Digging out her pajamas and a towel from her clean laundry basket, she showered. When the guys came back downstairs, Klement disappeared back into his office and Roderick went to bed. Cliff went God knew where with his pilfered rum.

Oh. So much for a movie. Fighting disappointment, Kat curled up in bed with her Kindle. It had been ages since she’d just relaxed and read.

Before she knew it, it was after midnight. Yawning, she headed to the bathroom and brushed her teeth.

The hallway was dark and silent, except for faint snores coming from Cliff’s room. Just when she turned to head back to bed, however, a shadow fell over her. Klement. And he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

She froze, captivated by the sight of his muscled form.

He took her hand and held a finger to his lips as he led her into his room. After locking the door, he grasped her pajama top and pulled it up over her head. Immediately he sank to his knees and buried his face between her breasts. Kat looked down at him and was struck breathless by his masculine beauty. How could she have ever thought that Cliff was the better-looking man? Not in a million years.

All rational thought shattered when Klement’s fingers slid down her belly and seized the waistband of her pajama pants. Pulling them down, and her panties as well, he sank to a sitting position, kissing her stomach and hip bones. Then he lowered his head between her legs. When his tongue flicked across her clit, Kat nearly stumbled from the electric pleasure. He licked and kissed and sucked until she was slick, wet, and whimpering.

Before her knees gave out, he scooped her up and placed her on the bed. Kat watched, transfixed as he pulled down his pants. His cock stood hard and enormous, with a beauty all of its own. She couldn’t wait to feel it inside her again.

Climbing onto the bed, he cupped her face and kissed her senseless before easing her down on her stomach. Straddling her hips, he kissed and caressed her everywhere until yet again she was begging.

At last he gave her what she wanted and worked his cock inside her with torturous slowness. She gasped at every hot inch. His fingers brushed aside her hair and stroked her cheek, that tenderness countering his hard, deep thrusts. Kat turned her head slightly to kiss his knuckles. His index finger stroked her lips. Her tongue darted out and licked the tip.

Klement growled against her neck, and slowly he guided his finger into her mouth. Something about it felt decadent and naughty. Kat sucked the digit like she had sucked his cock earlier, arching her hips to echo the rhythm of him moving inside her.

His breath hissed through his teeth, making her feel wicked. Oh he liked that, did he? Her tongue laved his finger as she sucked on him harder. She felt his cock spasm inside her, and his thrusts became more savage.

Wow. The penetration felt deeper and more intense at this angle. Almost unbearable. Even still, Kat shifted beneath Klement and spread her legs wider, taking him deeper.

The sensation was overpowering, making her throb in that deep, hidden place. It would almost hurt if it didn’t feel so good. She moaned around his finger. She couldn’t possibly take more, but her body told her otherwise, begging for him to go deeper, harder.

Klement’s cock pulsed against her G-spot, his finger thrusting into her mouth, making her take him deeper that way as well. Dark pleasure tingeing her vision, Kat obliged, sucking harder, tightening her pussy around him. She could feel every inch of him scalding her from the inside, claiming her, owning her.

Pain and pleasure mingled within her, coursing through her body. Her climax roared through her, and she spasmed around Klement with such intensity that she bucked against him. Her pleasure crested higher, until she thought she’d die if she took any more. And as much as she tried to hold back, loud cries erupted from her.

Klement was merciless. He withdrew his finger but his hand wrapped around her jaw, silencing her. His other hand gripped hers tightly, pinning it to the mattress. And since she knew he was only trying to keep her quiet so they weren’t discovered, the feeling of him holding her down, overpowering her, made her come harder.

Just as the waves of pleasure began to subside, Klement bit her neck and a low groan escaped his throat. She felt his cock pulse inside her, and a second orgasm burst over her, washed through her, making her tremble and her vision shatter into a billion particles of light.

Klement’s delicious weight settled upon her back, their bodies heaving together as they caught their breath. He uncovered her mouth and brushed her hair to the side to trail light kisses on her cheek and down her neck, making her tremble anew. Then, slowly, he rose from the bed and grabbed a towel from the laundry basket to clean up.

Rolling onto her back, Kat watched with rapt fascination as he wiped his still-hard cock. She blushed when he met her gaze. That blush deepened when he came back to the bed and gently wiped down her damp center and the insides of her thighs.

Tossing the towel on the floor with his other dirty clothes, he gave her a concerned look. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, not at all.” She caressed his bare chest, awed that he cared so much about how she felt.

He still looked worried. “It was just that…well, you were getting kinda loud and I didn’t want to wake up the guys.”

“Actually, it was kinda hot.” She shivered with the memory of their lovemaking. Never before had she felt so completely taken. “I never knew I was this kinky.”

“Me neither.” He cupped her cheek and lowered his head to kiss her lightly. “Still, you’re so small. If I’m ever hurting you…”

She smirked. “I’ll bite.”

He chuckled low before getting back into the bed and gathering her into his arms. Kat rested her head against his chest, listening to his heart, which was still pounding from their sensual exertions.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she murmured.

“Mmmm.” He kissed the top of her head.

But, no. Things couldn’t last forever. “I suppose you’ll want me to go back to my room.”

He held her tighter. “Not just yet. This feels nice.”

It felt more than nice to Kat; it felt like heaven. The other guys she’d been with had been the types to roll over and start snoring after sex. And until tonight, she’d expected Klement to be no different. Granted, the last two times hadn’t left them much opportunity to bask in the post-coital glow, but who would have guessed he was a cuddler?

I could definitely fall in love with this man.

The thought caused a ripple of alarm to reverberate through Kat, but at her slight shiver Klement cuddled her closer, rubbing her back in soothing motions.

They dozed together for a blissful eternity before Kat reluctantly disentangled herself from his embrace and rolled out of the bed. Klem mumbled in a pleading tone, reaching for her as she donned her pajamas. But though it hurt to leave him now, having him inevitably send her away later and on his own terms would be even more painful.

Chapter Nineteen

“That fucking cunt!”

Richard slammed his fists into the steering wheel of his Kia and glared at Kat’s little green wagon parked in the studio lot. Somehow she’d gotten that piece of shit back on the road. All of his hard work and he’d only temporarily hindered her. Impotent rage roiled in his gut. It was all he could do not to charge into the building and bust her pretty lips.

The sight of the car was like rubbing salt in an open wound. A wound that still throbbed after reading her post last night. Bleeding Vengeance was actually going to let her play on stage with them? Why couldn’t he catch a goddamned break?

The post had featured a picture of her with her guitar, looking sexy as hell. He remembered when she and her bitch-friend Kinley went to a professional photographer to have those taken. They’d wanted the shots for promotion “in case they got another band together.” How he’d laughed.

It wasn’t funny anymore.

Cliff had to be fucking her. Why else would they let her in their band?

He’d glared at the picture of the singer at the top of the post, looking like an arrogant sack of shit next to their limey drummer and faggot bassist. He couldn’t believe Cliff had ditched him. He’d really thought they could be friends, but then Cliff stopped coming into the club and wouldn’t return his calls. No, he’d likely been too busy screwing Kat, and from the look of things, fixing her car. The guy must be one hell of a pussy for her to have him wrapped around her finger like that. What kind of sorry excuse for a man ignored the credo of bros before hoes?

“I’ll get you both,” he vowed, as he’d sworn at their pictures on the website last night. He’d logged in anonymously and called them both every rightfully deserved expletive he could think of, but that wasn’t nearly satisfying enough. Fingering his backstage pass for Thrashfest, he smiled, though it was more of a grimace. He would have his satisfaction at the concert. But for now he needed to get back to Idaho. The car was due back at the rental agency, and he needed to move a lot of product to be able to afford the next trip. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford another rental to take him to Wisconsin.

So, he’d have to take the bus. Flying was out of the question due to a certain item he intended to bring.

***

Kat sat on her bed, practicing the set list for Thrashfest when her phone rang. Her breath caught as she looked at the screen. Klement was calling her as IT Guy again. Had he figured out what he was going to do about his personal/ professional situation?

“Hey IT Guy,” she answered with a tremulous voice.

“Hey. Um…” Klement sounded even more nervous than she was. “I’m in Denver right now. Is there a chance we could meet in person? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Kat choked on a gasp. He’d just slipped up big-time. She’d never told him she was in Denver. However, that didn’t matter anymore she supposed. If he wanted to meet her in person, obviously he was ready to reveal his identity.

She took a deep shuddering breath. “Okay. Where do you want to meet?”

“I was thinking we could go to The Palace Arms, in the Brown Palace Hotel, and have dinner.”

“You mean, like a date? I told you I was…” How had she worded it? “Um, involved with someone else.”

“I don’t intend to interfere with that.”

She covered her mouth as laughter bubbled up in her throat. It was a good bet, what with him and Klement being the same person. “The Palace Arms, huh? That sounds expensive.”

“Don’t worry, I’m buying.”

This time, she did laugh. “I didn’t know that tech support was so lucrative.”

“It can be, but I have other things going on.”

She couldn’t help but tease. “Like what?”

“I’ll tell you tonight.” His voice sounded solemn. “How about seven?”

She glanced over at the clock. They’d had an early day at the studio, and it was only three. Plenty of time to get dressed up. “Sounds good. I look forward to meeting you.”

“I hope you still think so afterward. The reservation will be under K.B,” he said softly and hung up.

K.B.? Klement Burke.

Kat wondered if he was intentionally leaving clues.

Kat left her room and glanced down the hall. Klement’s office door was open, but when she checked he wasn’t in there. Maybe he’d called her from his grow room? But she hadn’t heard the ventilation fans in the background.

She found Roderick in the living room. “Have you seen Klement?”

“He took off a bit ago for some meetings and errands. He said he won’t be back until late.”

Kat bit back a smile. He was already getting ready to meet her. It was time for her to do the same.

“Anything I can do for you, love?” the drummer asked.

“No, I had a computer question, but it can wait.” Indeed, it could wait until dinner at the Palace Arms, along with a thousand other questions. Kat strode off, wondering what she was going to wear.

After hours of searching, she settled on a royal blue slip dress and strappy silver heels. While showering and then applying her makeup, she agonized over how she was going to react when she came face to face with Klement. To pretend surprise or confess that she’d known for the past week? To be dishonest, or to confess her previous dishonesty? Her thoughts churned as the clock ticked with agonizing slowness. Unable to wait any longer, she took a Xanax and headed out at six.

“Hey, where are you going all dressed up like that?” Cliff called behind her.

“I’m, um, meeting someone,” she said over her shoulder and quickened her pace, hoping she wouldn’t trip on the three-inch heels.

Klement’s Suburban remained in the driveway. He must have taken one of his other vehicles.

Despite her anxiety, Kat couldn’t hold back a smile as her Subaru’s engine roared to life. No matter how tonight went, she’d love Klement forever for fixing her baby.

She was so nervous that she made two wrong turns before she found the Brown Palace Hotel. Her jaw dropped as she stared at the giant brownstone building that looked more like a Disney castle than a hotel. Not wanting the valets to turn up their noses at her car, she parked in the lot across the street.

Wiping sweaty hands on her skirt, she lifted her chin and tried to look like she belonged as she walked inside. The decor screamed wealth and looked like it came from Beauty and the Beast. Kat couldn’t help her relief that Klement was paying.

On quaking legs, she approached the maître d’. “Reservation for K.B.,” she pronounced.

The immaculately starched host nodded. “Your party has already arrived. Right this way.”

Klement sat at a table drinking an iced tea. Kat’s heart stopped at the sight of him in a light blue dress shirt that brought out his eyes. His hair was pulled back, accentuating his fine-boned features, and Kat’s fists clenched in an effort to resist reaching across the table to stroke his cheek.

“Hi, IT Guy,” she said, as she slid into the seat across from him.

His eyebrow rose. “You don’t sound surprised.”

Kat pulled a napkin from the table and twisted it in her lap. “I, um, found out about a week ago.”

His frown deepened. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth in the first place?”

The words came out sharper than she intended, and he inclined his head. “Point. But still, why—?”

“No, you first,” she said firmly. Kinley would be proud of her for once refusing to back down.

At first Klem looked like he was going to argue. Then he sighed. “All right. I’m one of those people who compartmentalizes everything. I’ve always been that way. I keep my tech work separate from my music, and my personal life—not that there’s been much of one—apart from those. I’d planned to keep it that way…” His blue eyes roved over her, bright and penetrating. “But now you’ve gotten into all three compartments.”

“That’s about the nerdiest thing I’ve ever heard.” Though the last part had made her heart turn over. “Still, I suppose that makes sense. But I wish you’d told me when you auditioned me for the band.”

A server approached the table, and Klement waved him away. “I know. I really should have, but…” He moved to run a hand through his hair, but since it was pulled back he dropped it to fiddle with his fork. “Some of my reason was habit, and some of it was because I wanted you to approach the job fresh and new with no preconceived bias. I’m not sure if you would have worked as hard if you’d known I was already familiar with your talent and that we already had a good rapport.”

Kat glared at him. “I so would have.”

“You can’t know that.” He fixed her with a narrow stare that made her squirm in her seat. “And maybe you would have, but what if you’d felt insecure about the bias? Face it, we really were friends before. What if you didn’t believe in your own talent because of that?”

As usual, his logic was irrefutable. And it implied something else. “You agreed to hire me because you knew about my experience before Quinn even asked you to give me a chance.”

He nodded. “I still would have auditioned you, but I admit that I wouldn’t have been so enthusiastic about it.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me after you decided to keep me?” Kat spread her hands. Her original suspicion returned. “You weren’t using your IT Guy identity to spy on me, were you?”

“Aside from seeing how you were doing, no,” Klement said sincerely. “As for not telling, you…I don’t know. It just seemed like it would be too awkward.” He paused and his head cocked to the side. “When exactly did you find out?”

“My phone was dead and so I used Google Dialer. I heard you answer down the hall.” She couldn’t hold back a smile at the memory of that insane day.

A surprised laugh escaped his lips. “That was you? The number looked so weird that I almost didn’t answer. I thought it was a telemarketer. Especially when there was silence on the line.”

Kat nodded. “It shocked the hell out of me. I dropped my pills all over the floor when you knocked on my door.” Her shoulders shook with laughter. The situation was funny now.

Klem grinned and leaned forward. “I can imagine. So, why didn’t you confront me? Call me a two-faced son of a bitch?”

“For a while I was too shocked to know what to think, much less what to say to you. I needed some time to think.” She didn’t tell him about her brief suspicion that he’d been her stalker. There was no point to upset him with something so wrong. “And I was going to confront you, but before I did I just wanted to…” She trailed off with a blush.

“Wanted to what?” he prodded. He was so close that she could smell his aftershave. Subtle and delicious.

The confession tore from her throat. “I was afraid you’d be angry at being caught out, and”—her face burned as she looked down at her lap—“I wanted a night with you first.”

He laughed harder and shook his head. “That’s exactly why I waited until today to make my big confession. In case you got angry and I never got to hold you again.” His hands slid across the table, reaching for her. “Are you angry?”

“I should be, but no.” Her fingers entwined with his. “Like Kinley said, it’s kinda like having both Bruce Wayne and Batman.”

Klement’s eyes widened. “Kinley knows?”

“Well, I had to talk to somebody. And you and Kinley are my only friends.” Her lips curved into a teasing smile. “I suppose I could have talked to my mom.” Honestly, she had wanted to, but she was always reluctant to pour her troubles on her mother.

The threat of a parent silenced Klement for a moment. Then he recovered himself. “What did Kinley say?” He gestured to himself and his surroundings. “About all this?”

Kat laughed. “At first she was all ‘what the fuck?’ but once she heard about Cliff’s and my creepy stalker, she was too freaked out to care much about your secret identity.”

Klement’s smile dimmed. “After what she went through with Phil last year, I can understand that.”

“Yeah, but she’s still going to give you all sorts of shit at Thrashfest. You know that, right?” A thought occurred to Kat. “And what was up with you flirting with me as IT Guy the other day? Were you trying to see if I’d cheat on you with…you?”

“Kinda. Some women would only date me because I’m the bassist of Bleeding Vengeance, though it’s not as glamorous a concept as being with Cliff, who is the face of the band. They made me feel like a consolation prize. And I knew you liked Cliff.”

Kat’s stomach churned. Oh God, he’d been maintaining Metalness since its creation. He’d definitely seen all her posts squealing about Cliff. No wonder he was insecure.

“I got over that the instant I met him,” she pointed out.

Palpable relief filled Klem’s eyes. “I also wanted to know if you felt the same connection to me during our tech calls as I did with you. I…I’d never felt like that with a client, and I know it isn’t ethical, but there was something about you.”

She took his hand again. “You have no idea how many times I was tempted to ask where you lived and if you were single.” Reaching out, she took his other hand and squeezed. “I love you, Klement, as a hot bass player, a sexy IT Guy, and the kindest, most intelligent man I’ve ever known.”

Klement squeezed her hands back and gave her a heart-melting smile.

The silence stretched long and taut as Kat waited for him to say the same thing back. His eyes seemed to say it, and he stood and leaned over the table to kiss her. She blinked in surprise, as it was the first time he’d kissed her in public.

His lips dragged away, and he sat back down. “I can’t believe you’re taking this so well.”

Kat’s heart wailed. He didn’t say it back! Her mind tamped down the voice. We haven’t known each other that long. So Kat took a shaky breath. “Where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know.” Klement was back to fidgeting. “I make a terrible boyfriend.”

She couldn’t help but gape at him in astonishment. “For not being one, you’ve been the best I’ve ever had.” He’d been there and done everything for her.

His eyes widened, and he looked genuinely surprised. “Really?” He picked up his napkin and twisted it as he stared at her. “I guess we can take it one day at a time.”

The solemn tone evaporated as he gave her a tremulous smile. “We can start by ordering dinner. I’m starving.” With a low, seductive voice he added, “Then, afterward, maybe we can get a room for dessert.”

Heat unfurled in Kat’s belly and lower. She cast him a flirtatious look. “I could get on board with that.”

The server came, and they ordered their dinners. Kat’s stomach growled when the plate of broiled salmon was set before her. With all of her anxiety about their confrontation, she’d been unable to eat since he’d called.

As if to chase off the tension of their talk, Klement seemed to pretend that it hadn’t happened and acted like they were on a normal date, wooing her with funny stories about how he’d first gotten into computers.

“My first job was webmaster for a site that made custom ladies’ underwear. They allegedly promoted feminism, though I never understood how. Then I had a stint in monitoring the toilets in the giant trucks of a mining company. That was the shit.”

“Why do you have so many jobs, anyway?” she dared to ask.

Klement shrugged. “At first it was because I was bored when I had nothing else to do. My sisters had each other to play with but didn’t include me much. After awhile, I think I just kept trying different things to impress my parents. Like, if I could get good with cars, maybe my dad and I could spend time in the garage. Or if I got good with music, my parents would come to the school band concerts. Or maybe if I learned the computer programs they used, I could help them with their business. None of that worked. They never cared, no matter what I did. Even becoming famous didn’t register more than a blip on their radar. Dad thinks music is frivolous. They don’t even bother calling me now.” He laughed, short and bitter. “But I still seem to be at it, trying to prove myself to them. As you can see, I’m kind of a piece of work.”

Kat reached across the table and took his hand, fighting back tears for his tangible pain. “I think you’re wonderful.”

“Thank you.” Something like hope flashed in his eyes before he squeezed her hand and changed the subject. “And then there was the time when I worked at a phone sex place…”

By the time the server carried off their plates and delivered the check, Kat’s stomach hurt from both laughter and a filling meal. Klement took her hand and led her from the restaurant, escorting her up the elevator and to a luxurious suite with its own hot tub.

“The bed is smaller than yours,” Kat giggled.

Klement’s arms wrapped around her, reaching for the zipper on the back of her dress. “I think we can still make it work.”

Indeed he could. In the hot tub and in the bed.

As she drifted off to sleep cradled in his arms, Kat felt loved even if he hadn’t said the words. But why wouldn’t he say them?

Kat chased off the worry. One day at a time, he’d told her.

It seemed he was serious about trying out a relationship with her because, after he kissed her awake in the morning, he suggested they take his car back to the house, which meant the guys would see them returning together. He told her, “I’ll pay to have yours parked here for the day, and we can just get it after we’re done in the studio.”

They didn’t have any bags to pack, so in minutes they were in Klement’s sleek black 1960 Plymouth Fury, roaring up the road to Dark Score. Kat wondered if he’d wanted to spend more time alone with her, or if he was just having her ride in his fancy classic car to be more like a boyfriend. Maybe it was a bit of both.

As they walked in Klement’s front door still dressed in their disheveled finery from the night before, Cliff and Rod looked up from their breakfasts. The pair’s eyes got big, as it was obvious that Klement and Kat had spent the night together.

“Hey!” Cliff pinned Klement with an accusatory glare. “What the hell happened to ‘she’s a colleague, not a groupie, and should be treated as such’ and yada-yada-yada?”

Rod gaped. “Wait, Cliff. You mean you didn’t know something was going on between them? They’ve been inseparable since she got here. How did you not notice?”

The singer laughed. “Oh, I did, man. I’ve just been waiting forever for him to quit hiding it so I could flip him some shit.” He grinned at Klement. “A least that means there will be more groupies for me.”

He turned next to Kat and winked. “I’m bummed that I wasn’t able to show you a good time, but you did pick the best of us.”

“Speak for yourself, mate,” Rod said before looking back to Kat and Klement. “You guys better get changed before we head out to the studio. I’ll get another pot of coffee going.”

Chapter Twenty

Klement listened to the tracks with a smile. This was going to be a great album. Maybe even one of their best. He glanced at the rest of the band, studying their faces as they listened as well. From their rapt expressions, it seemed they agreed. No matter what the critics would say about the absence of Lefty, in the end this would be something to be proud of. Kat’s playing was revolutionary yet blended seamlessly with Bleeding Vengeance’s signature sound. Only the most obstinate assholes would try to argue that.

“What do you think?” Klement asked the others. “Is it ready to be mixed and mastered?”

“I think it’s bloody great,” Roderick said. “I can’t wait to hear the final product.”

Cliff nodded. “It’s gonna be perfect. Just be sure you don’t get into another fight with the mixing engineer. He makes me sound good. I don’t want to lose him.”

“As long as he doesn’t tune down my bass tracks or mess with the drums or lead, we’ll be fine.” Klement still hated the fact that he had to put such crucial work in the hands of others. He’d mixed their first album, but now the record company wouldn’t let him control everything anymore, not now that the band had proven to be a viable product worthy of their investing their coveted producers and putting more cooks in the kitchen than were probably needed. With great reluctance, he admitted that since the band was so successful, he wouldn’t have the time anyway.

“Kat?” he prodded, when he realized she’d remained silent.

She looked up with wide dark eyes that threatened to drown him. “It’s incredible. I can’t believe I was a part of it.”

He held her gaze and they shared a smile. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

As they left the studio, Klement felt like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He always felt lighter after finishing an album, but this time the sensation was multiplied. A lot of it was because they’d managed to pull it off without Lefty, something they’d all feared would be a disaster. But he couldn’t help but wonder if a lot of his euphoria was because he’d gotten everything settled with Kat.

Well, almost everything.

Where do we go from here? she’d asked in a heartbreaking, tentative voice.

His one-day-at-a-time suggestion had worked so far, but it wouldn’t for long. She lived in northern Idaho, taking care of her mom, and he lived here in Colorado. That wouldn’t matter when they were touring and recording, but the months in between worried him. Could a long-distance relationship work between them? Hell, could he handle being away from her?

He’d shied away from the thought and spent the last week in bliss with Kat, snatching at every private moment with her like the priceless treasures they were. To his relief, Rod and Cliff didn’t seem to be judging him—or, more importantly, Kat—for the relationship. As the bassist of Viciӧus had been upset at first for Quinn dating Kinley, Klement had been concerned about group unity. Thank God his own bandmates were different.

Even better, they didn’t seem to be treating Kat any differently—well, aside from them no longer hitting on her, but that was a good thing. Cliff had asked how she was in bed, but mostly to yank his chain, Klement supposed. Either way, the look on his face had apparently dissuaded the singer from asking again.

With the album to complete and with the time to leave for Thrashfest creeping up on them, it seemed there weren’t enough hours in the day. First the photographer came down and did a shoot for the inner sleeve; then they consulted with their artist for the cover image. On top of that, Klement was still going through the footage of the studio parking lot in his “spare time,” looking for the mystery car. Although Cliff and Kat hadn’t had anything happen to them since the dead cat and the sugar, he wasn’t about to think the psycho had just given up. Even if he had, he still needed to be caught.

The night before they were due to leave for Wisconsin, Klement gave a whoop. He’d found the bastard’s car. After hours of fast-forwarding through jerky images of vehicles blinking in and out of the lot, he spotted a red Kia. A memory slapped him in the face a moment later. It looked like the very same that had made a wrong turn at the base of his driveway behind Kat when she’d first come to his place.

Duh. It hadn’t been a wrong turn. She’d been followed.

Freezing the image, Klement made a copy and uploaded it to his image manipulation software. After another hour of fiddling with the resolution and lighting, he got the plate number. Duplicating the image again, he overlaid it on top of the one he’d been playing with from his own cameras, adjusted the transparency and made a few more tweaks.

They matched. He had the son of a bitch.

The license plate’s state gave him pause. Washington? That was far from Colorado. But it was right next to Idaho.

“Hey, Kat?” he called. “Come here a minute, would you?”

She came into his office with her Kindle tucked under her arm. “Yeah?”

“Where did your ex live?”

Her lush lips twisted into a frown of disgust. “Spokane. Why?”

“The car that delivered the dead cat and also paid a few visits to our studio parking lot had Washington plates.” He beckoned her over to see the images on his screen. “Do you think it might have been him?”

Her frown deepened as she looked at the picture. “Well, he did get pretty crazy when I broke up with him. Mom even had to threaten to call the cops because he wouldn’t quit coming by our house. He sent me threatening text messages, but then he stopped. Like I told the cops, I haven’t heard from him in months.”

Klement nearly snapped his pen in half. Threatening text messages? Stalking her at her house? What kind of a monster had she dated? Still… “Do you think he followed you to Denver?”

“I doubt it. I mean, why would he bother? He didn’t even like me that much when I think about it. He is crazy enough, though.” She leaned forward and studied the Kia. “But that’s not his car. Not unless his income improved since we broke up. Last I knew, he drove an old Ford pickup.”

Klement tapped the end of his pen on the license plate frame where a logo was barely discernible. “I’d bet money that’s a rental.”

“Oh. I didn’t think of that.” Kat hugged her arms. “Even then, I don’t think he’d be able to afford it. He only works construction on and off. Lately, more off than on. Unless…” She sneered in disgust. “He sold drugs on the side. Not weed, either, but the hard stuff. That’s another reason I broke up with him.”

“What’s the first reason?” Klement asked.

She looked down at her feet. “He hit me.”

Immediately Klement flashed back to that first day in the studio when Kat had dropped her pills and flinched when he handed them back to her. And when she was curled up in his lap, shaking from a panic attack from the effects of the pot cupcake and memories of her abusive father. And, now here she stood, looking small and vulnerable.

“I’d like to hit him,” he growled with such ferocity that Kat took a step back. “I’m sorry. I’m not really a violent person, but…” He sighed and shook his head. He might have been neglected, but at least he’d never gone through anything like Kat. “Anyway, I’ll let the cops deal with him.” He picked up Officer Shaw’s card.

“Do you think they’ll catch him?”

The doubt and fear in Kat’s eyes made Klement want to pull her into his lap. He chuckled, eager to get the son of a bitch behind bars, whoever he was. “With a plate number and the records from the rental place? If it is him, most definitely. Not to mention your testimony.”

“Testimony?” Her face paled.

He scooted back his office chair and pulled her into his lap. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there with you. And after I talk to the cops, you should file a restraining order.”

“Okay.” Yet at the mention of cops, she shivered.

“Don’t worry.” He stroked her back. “That fuckhead is going down, and I won’t let him near you again.”

“I’m so glad I met you,” she murmured against his chest.

“Me, too.” His arms tightened around her. His own life had been bleak before Kat, but he hadn’t realized it. “Now, let’s get that douche-monkey and concentrate on more important things.” Like whether she wanted him to come to Coeur d’Alene for a visit after Thrashfest. Quinn had left his Seattle condo six months ago to move there to be with Kinley, and he liked living there, so maybe…

Still cradling her, Klem picked up his phone and dialed Officer Shaw.

“It’s Klement Burke,” he said when the cop answered. “The one who reported someone tampering with Katana James’s car and delivering a dead cat to Cliff Tracey.”

“Hello, Mr. Burke. Has anything else happened?”

“No, but I identified the car from security footage from both my house and the studio.”

“Really? Our guys haven’t had any luck with that.”

“I’m willing to bet I have more experience than they do with graphics.” Before Shaw could argue, he continued. “It’s a red Kia, not sure of the year, but I got a plate number.”

Shaw had him hold while he checked the read-off number against a database. A moment later the officer was back and said, “It belongs to Appleway rental cars in Spokane County, in Washington.”

“That’s what I figured.”

Shaw put him on hold again. When he returned he said, “They’re closed for the night, so we won’t be able to find out whose name the rental’s under until tomorrow. But that’ll give us time to get a warrant.”

“We’re going to be flying out to Wisconsin for a show tomorrow,” Klement said. “But we already have a prime suspect for you to look into.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Kat’s ex boyfriend.” Klement cupped the phone and turned back to her. “What’s his name?”

“Richard Dumascian.”

Klement bit back a laugh. It sounded like “dumbass,” which fit all too perfectly. And one of the nicknames for Richard was Dick. That also matched.

“Can she give me his address and physical description?” Officer Shaw asked after he heard the name. Klement passed her the phone, and she took it with shaking hands. He kissed her on the forehead.

This cop isn’t your father, he wanted to tell her.

She handled talking to the police much better over the phone than in person. It helped that Officer Shaw had a soothing voice, but Klement was sure that most of it had to do with the fact that she didn’t have to see his uniform.

“Hello. He’s five-ten with brown eyes and long, curly brown hair.” She paused a moment, fingers moving like she was twirling an imaginary cord from an old-school land line. “Oh, he’s white. About a hundred and eighty pounds.”

Klement raised a brow. It was like she was describing Cliff. Was that why she’d ended up dating the bastard in the first place? Because they looked alike? Old insecurity rose up. With his blond hair, blue eyes, pasty skin and freakish height, he looked nothing like what was probably her preferred type.

Yet here she was, curled up on his lap.

Kat spelled the guy’s last name before reciting his address. She fell silent when the officer spoke. Klement picked out enough words to determine that he was asking why she suspected her ex.

“He’s the only person I know from Spokane, for one thing.” Her voice was taut and defensive. “He also stalked me for three months after I broke up with him.” Her frown deepened at the cop’s next question. “Because I thought he’d given up and moved on to some other woman,” she said impatiently. “He didn’t even like me that much.”

Klement was too busy wondering who wouldn’t like Kat to hear what the cop asked next.

“He does construction jobs for various companies.” Her voice was cold and flat. “I think he might sell drugs on the side.”

Might, instead of her knowing he did? At first Klement was taken aback at the white lie, but then he realized she was probably afraid the cop would give her flak for not having reported Dick in the first place. Or, worse, he’d think she’d participated or partook.

Oh crap, she did have a point. After all, she was now in a world-famous heavy metal band, and anything related to music or fame was often associated with drugs. He himself had been featured in High Times magazine with his girls a couple years back. Maybe that would bring some scrutiny down on them. Maybe she shouldn’t have even said anything about her ex’s side job. But it was too late now.

“No, I don’t know what kind.” Her impatient tone returned. “I was never around for any of that. It was just his weird phone calls and visits with friends at odd hours. Hell, maybe he was just cheating on me the whole time and I suspected drugs to make myself feel better.”

She answered a few more questions before handing the phone back to Klement.

“We’ll get that warrant and search this city for the car,” Shaw told him. “I’m also contacting the Spokane police. They’ll probably call back with their own questions.”

After Klement hung up, he felt much better, finally believing he knew who was messing with both Kat and his band. “I hope they catch that fucker soon.”

Kat nodded emphatically. “Me too. I just can’t believe he went this far. He must be insane.”

“Insane,” Klement agreed, suddenly tired of talking about her ex. Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to his bedroom. “Let’s forget about him and make use of our final hours alone before we’re crammed on a plane.”

He made love to her slowly and tenderly, savoring every inch of her body. Afterward, as she rested her head on his chest, a surge of protectiveness made him clench her tighter in his arms.

I won’t let that bastard near you, he silently vowed.

Chapter Twenty-one

Excitement and trepidation roiled in Kat’s belly as she got on the tour bus with Klement and the guys to head to Thrashfest.

Although she’d been to the festival six times before, it was obviously never under these circumstances. Instead of taking a four-day bus trip, today she’d flown first class. Instead of taking a taxi to the nearby campground or a cheap motel, they were staying at The Alpine Valley Resort, which looked like a Bavarian villa from a fairy tale. Even though she hated snow and ice with the heat of a thousand suns, Kat had to admit the place probably looked incredible in the winter during ski season—and it looked just fine now in the late spring. She and Kinley had taken pictures of it before but never gotten the chance to see the inside. This time, she and Klement were sharing a suite. The only down side was that, for the first time, she hadn’t gotten to see the first day, which was comprised of awesome debut bands who were not only great candidates for Metalness interviews, but also served to help her and Kinley find new music to rock out to. It was all about the music.

This time, however, Kat would be there not as a spectator or even a journalist, but as a performer. Bleeding Vengeance would be part of the second day, which was reserved for the titans of metal.

She dug in her purse for her Xanax and took a half a pill, saving the other half for before they went on stage. Klement squeezed her hand. Rod and Cliff gave her wary looks. So Kat wasn’t the only one worried that she’d freeze up from stage fright.

I won’t let them down, she silently vowed. I can do this.

As if in affirmation, the first people they saw when they piled out of the bus and entered the backstage area were Viciӧus.

Momentarily forgetting her worries, Kat ran over and enfolded her friend in a bear hug. “Oh my God, Kin, is it really you?”

“I was about to say the same.” Kinley picked her up and twirled her around. Normally Kat hated that, but her tall friend could get away with anything.

“How’s it going with Viciӧus?” She glanced back and saw Klement and Quinn immersed in conversation then lowered her voice. “And with Quinn?”

Kinley grinned, but she also fiddled with her long dark braid. “Great. Except that, since Curt’s still in rehab, they want me to help write songs for the next album. They said they like my technique, but I’m scared shitless. I’m not anywhere near as creative as you. What if I blow it?”

“You’re going to be fine. When we get back to Coeur d’Alene, I’ll jam with you and see what we can come up with.”

Kat bit her lip and thought of leaving Klement. She couldn’t imagine him abandoning his home to live with her and her mom. So could she leave her mother and her best friend to live with him? Would he even want her to?

As if reading her mind, Kinley leaned close. “What about you and Bleeding Vengeance? And Klement?”

As quickly as she could, Kat filled her friend in on the recording sessions and how she fit in with the band, finishing with her developing relationship with Klement. With a laugh she added, “He called me as IT Guy and asked me to meet him for dinner.”

Kinley’s eyes were wide as dinner plates. “No way. How did that go?”

“Awkward at first, but then it was so romantic.” She couldn’t hold back a breathy sigh.

Her friend uttered a strange-sounding laugh. “That reminds me…”

She trailed off and strode over to Klement.

“Ow!” he yelled when she punched him in the arm. “What was that for?”

“For not telling me and Kat that you were our tech support guy for our website.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

The guys from both Bleeding Vengeance and Viciӧus stared at Klement like he’d grown an extra head. Except for Quinn. He leaned against the wall, sipping his beer with a smug smile.

His nonchalance did not escape Kat’s notice. Eyes narrowed, she rounded on him. “You knew?”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell.” He toasted Klement with his beer. Kinley smacked him then, albeit not as hard as she’d hit Klem. He rubbed his arm and gave her a smoldering yet playful look.

Kat felt warm watching them. They were so in love, it was clear.

Klement gave Kinley a perplexed look. “I did tell Kat. And she didn’t see the need to hit me. In fact, she said you helped her understand my reasons for secrecy.”

Kinley didn’t seem to have a good argument for that, so she headed back to Kat. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” she whispered.

“Yes.” The word emerged as a pained cry.

“Then I won’t hit him anymore unless he hurts you.”

An unjustly beautiful blonde woman approached. Her lips were curved in a seductive smile, but her cornflower blue eyes were cold. Kat disliked her on sight.

“Fuck,” Kinley hissed through her teeth. “It’s Marianne.”

Kat glanced back at the Barbie-esque woman and noticed the press pass clipped to her blouse. “The bitch from Rocktalk who exposed you and Quinn?”

“Yeah. Did you know that she’s slept with practically half of the bands here? Even Quinn—but before we met,” she added quickly. “It’s like she’s some kind of twisted, skanky collector.”

Had she slept with Klement? Kat couldn’t hold back the dreadful thought.

To her dismay, Marianne sauntered over to the guys of Bleeding Vengeance. Her stomach knotted. Was she the scheduled interview they’d mentioned?

Then she saw that no matter how much Marianne batted her eyelashes and swayed her hips, Klement, Rod, and even Cliff ignored her. Kat silently cheered as Cliff shook his head and walked away. She remembered that they’d all been pissed at Marianne’s website for sensationalizing Lefty’s death.

Had Marianne written that article? Given how they were acting, Kat was willing to bet she had.

The reporter’s smile wavered at the band’s cold shoulder, but then her gaze lit on Kat and Kinley. She stalked over to them like a shark smelling blood in the water.

“Damn it,” Kinley muttered. “I cannot handle her catty bullshit. Make her go away.”

Kat felt her lips curve into a wicked smile. “Don’t worry, I will.”

Marianne’s grin broadened until she did resemble a shark. “Well, if it isn’t Metal-Kin and Metal-Kat.” Her predatory eyes focused on Kat. “I see you followed in Kinley’s footsteps. Now both of you are guitarists of famous bands. I am interested to know how you pulled it off.”

“Because we can play guitar,” Kat said slowly, as if speaking to a toddler.

The reporter blinked and frowned before recovering her sharp-toothed grin. “Oh, but I’m sure that sleeping with the lead singers helped.”

Kat stepped forward so quickly that Marianne stumbled back. “No, that’s how you operate. Quit projecting your deluded motives onto other women. First off, I am not sleeping with Cliff. Secondly, Kinley and Quinn’s relationship developed after she’d been the guitar tech for awhile, which you might have learned if you’d bothered to ask instead of sneaking around snapping pictures of them on their first date and posting it all over like some trashy tabloid. Kinley didn’t have to spread her legs for her job any more than she did for her interviews. Unlike you.” She pointed at Marianne, making the woman backtrack another step in her wobbly heels. “Furthermore, it was Curtis who asked Kinley to step in for him, not Quinn.”

As Marianne flushed and took another step back into the corner, Kat continued. “I don’t know what you think to get with talking shit to us, and I know you don’t have an interview scheduled with Bleeding Vengeance or Viciӧus.” She actually didn’t know if the last was true, but with Marianne’s past behavior she was willing to assume so. “So why don’t you get the hell out of here and go do your job and let us do ours in peace.”

Though she was visibly trembling, Marianne managed a derisive sniff. “You’re absolutely right. I am wasting my time talking with a low-tier site…that now has a conflict of interest. I’ll be sure to warn the other bands not to talk to either of you second-rate journalists.”

It was a strong speech, but the woman slunk off like a whipped dog despite her bravado. Kinley whistled and laughed.

“Damn, you put that bitch in her place. Why is it that you can handle catty women? You hate confrontation.”

Kat shrugged. “I think I’m only afraid of confrontations with men. I never know what they’re thinking. Besides, I’ve been wanting to tell her off for a long time.” She frowned. “But she’s right, you know. We kinda are getting into a conflict of interest with the site.”

“I know. That’s why I’ve been looking for guest bloggers, so more of the coverage doesn’t come directly from us anymore. Quinn’s sister is interested.”

Kat laughed. “Quinn’s sister? Isn’t that another sort of conflict?”

“Not as bad as material coming from us, and she can go by an alias. Besides, she’s not the only one who wants to contribute.”

Another worry emerged. “What if Marianne does convince the other bands not to talk to us?”

“I highly doubt she will. Most of these guys can’t stand shit-talking. What she’ll probably do is publish a derogatory post about us on Rocktalk.” Kinley sounded bored. “Which is fine, because it just proves that we have integrity and she doesn’t.”

Before Kat could reply, she heard the music from the stage fade away into the roars of the crowd. Dragonfyre had finished their set, which meant that it was Niteblade’s turn, and after them, Bleeding Vengeance. She’d been so comfortable being reunited with her best friend and distracted by Marianne’s drama that she’d almost forgotten that her onstage debut was imminent. Their roadies would be getting ready for the load-in any minute.

“What’s the matter?” Kinley asked. “You look pale all of a sudden.”

Mouth dry, Kat swallowed. “I just realized I’m going onstage soon.”

Her friend’s warm brown eyes regarded her with sympathy. “I was so scared the first time that I almost barfed. But when I pretended that I was back at a bar playing with you, it got better. Don’t worry. You’re a killer guitarist and you’re going to rock this. They wouldn’t have hired you otherwise.”

“Thanks,” Kat said feebly. “But I’m still going to take another half a Xanax…maybe a full one.” As if in response to her words, her heart sped up. “I’ll be right back.”

Squaring her shoulders, Kat made her way from the backstage area down the hall toward the restrooms, wanting to quickly rejoin her band and make them proud. She dug in her purse for her Xanax bottle. “I can do this. For me, for the band, and for Klement. I won’t let him down.”

Passing a nearby electrical room, she realized the door was strangely ajar. Before she could close it, a hand seized her wrist and yanked her inside. Her Xanax bottle clattered to the floor. Pills scattered everywhere.

Chapter Twenty-two

Klement frowned as more fans gathered backstage. He’d lost sight of Kat. She and Kinley had been talking earlier, radiating triumph after their encounter with that vapid blond reporter from Rocktalk. After her tacky post about Lefty’s death, Bleeding Vengeance would have nothing to do with that site anymore. He’d almost intervened when she first approached Kat and Kinley, but Kat handled her on her own.

From the way the reporter slunk off, he was dying to know what Kat had said.

So, where was she? He finally spotted Kinley with Quinn signing autographs, but Kat was still nowhere in sight.

He walked over to them. “Have you seen Kat?” he asked.

Quinn shook his head while Kinley answered, “She went to the bathroom to freshen up before you go on.” Her brows drew together. “But that was a while ago. I hope she’s okay. I know she’s really nervous. Sometimes when her anxiety is really high she”—Kinley leaned in close and whispered—“throws up.”

“I think I remember her telling me.” Klement longed to go after Kat and comfort her, but he didn’t want to embarrass her.

Kinley’s eyes widened. “Really? She’s never told anyone but me. She must trust you a lot.” She gave him a stern look. “Don’t fuck it up.”

He bit back a grin at her determination. “I’ll do my best not to.”

When he headed back to Rod, he noticed a group of fans gathered around the drummer. They lit up with hopeful smiles when he approached.

“Where’s Cliff?” a dreadlocked man asked after Klement signed his shirt.

Klement tamped down a pang of disappointment. It was perfectly natural for them to prefer the front man. When he looked around the room, he couldn’t see Cliff either.

Rod looked up from the woman’s breasts he was signing. “I haven’t seen him since he walked away from that tart reporter.”

“Where could he have gone?” Klement frowned.

“I haven’t seen Kat for a bit either.” Rod cocked his head to the side. “You don’t think he’s still trying to get in her knickers, do you?”

“No.” To his surprise, Klement was certain he wasn’t—and that Kat wouldn’t be interested in any man but him anyway. “Kinley said she’s in the bathroom and might be fighting off pre-show jitters.

“Maybe Cliff’s hiding from that guy he met at the bar who turned out to be a wanker,” Rod offered. “I think his name was Rick. Cliff gave him a backstage pass before he found out the guy was loony.”

Rick? Something about that name gave him pause. Then it hit him. Rick was short for Richard.

Dick.

“Oh, Christ.” Klement turned back to Rod. “Did you see the guy here?”

The drummer paused. “No, but then I was a little preoccupied here.” He nodded toward the breasts he had just finished signing.

“Fuck.” Klement’s gut churned. “I’d bet money that was Kat’s ex.”

He berated himself. Kat had been right when Cliff told them what kind of a skeevy pervert his new friend turned out to be. He sounds just like my ex, she’d said. And only a few nights before that, Klement had seen the son of a bitch when he and Kat had went out to The Hellion. If only Kat had spotted him and pointed him out. Sure, Klement might have ended up in jail for assault, but at least Kat and Cliff would be safe now.

Were they safe?

Rod’s lips twisted in confusion. “What? But that guy probably delivered a dead cat to Cliff and trolled him online. Why would he buddy up to him?”

“To get a backstage pass,” Klement guessed through clenched teeth. No wonder the Denver and Spokane police still hadn’t found Richard. The bastard had already been on the road to Wisconsin.

Rod’s jaw dropped. “Bloody hell.”

“You sure you haven’t seen him here?” Klement’s heart pounded in terror.

“No, but if he’s stalking Kat, he would stay out of sight, right? What do you think he has planned? Do you think he got to them yet?”

Klement didn’t know, but every one of his instincts screamed to find Kat and protect her from that psycho. “I hope not, but I’m going see if I can find them. You stay here and send someone to find me if they come back.”

“Okay. I hope you find them soon,” Rod said worriedly. “We’re supposed to be on for the sound check in a half hour.”

Klement strode off. The show was the last thing on his mind. Kat had better be safe. He couldn’t accept any other alternative.

***

Kat stared into the barrel of the gun. For an eternity her existence was narrowed to that abyss-like black hole. Klement, her heart cried. She wouldn’t even have the chance to tell him goodbye.

“I got you now, cunt,” the familiar, dreaded voice said. “And your pussy of a boyfriend, too.”

Her focus broadened to the face of the man holding the gun. And to the man behind him, who was duct-taped to a support beam. Cliff.

Kat’s gaze flicked back to her captor, confusion momentarily halting her fear. “Richard? What the fuck?”

“You fucked him when he played in Spokane!” Richard shrieked. “You cheated on me, you lying bitch.”

Cliff’s eyes widened with even more confusion. “Wwfff?” he mumbled through the duct tape over his mouth. He shook his head vigorously and strained against his bonds.

Richard pointed the gun at him. “Shut up!”

Kat brought Richard’s attention back to her. “No, I didn’t. That was a year ago. And I left that concert as soon as it was over because you kept texting me.” Self disgust washed over her for letting him manipulate her and berate her for so long. “I didn’t even have a backstage pass. The tour manager gave it to Kinley.”

“Bullshit!” Richard shouted. “Why the hell else would he hire you if you weren’t screwing him?”

Even with a gun pointed at her, she couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “Maybe because they like my guitar-playing? And Cliff didn’t hire me. Klement did.”

“The fag bassist?” Richard said skeptically.

A startled laugh escaped her throat. That whole Klement-is-gay thing? She had a wild urge to tell Richard exactly how and why he was wrong. But that would be a bad idea under the circumstances.

“You think this is funny?” he snarled, aiming the gun at her head.

“No. It’s not funny at all. Put the gun down, Richard.” She fought the quaver in her voice. “I didn’t cheat on you. And it’s a moot point because we broke up. Six months ago. You stalked me, fucked up my car and harassed a guy who had nothing to do with this. Don’t you think you’ve gotten sufficient revenge?”

As she listed off all the insane things he’d done, fury blazed through her. She wished she was like the sword-wielding video game character she’d been named after. Wait, not a sword. The game Katana had cool fans with blades in them. But, what? She forced her attention back to the present. Who knew she’d think of such random shit when facing death?

“No!” Richard waved his gun around, the whites of his eyes rolling like a lunatic’s. “You haven’t paid enough for leaving me, for making me chase you across the fucking country…” Spit flew out of his mouth as his rant gained acceleration. His insults and accusations blurred in Kat’s ears into nonsensical noise as they had before. Only, this time she wasn’t frozen in panic like an animal in a cage. No, he no longer had that power over her. Now she was infuriated. If she could just get the gun away from him…

Slowly, she edged closer, fists clenched and ready. Her heart thudded in her ears as she moved carefully like playing Red Light, Green Light when she was little.

Just as her arm swept up to knock the gun from his grasp, he jumped back and pointed it at her again. “Nice try, cunt.” He turned the safety off with a dull but ominous click. “Now you and your fuck-buddy are going to pay.”

Kat closed her eyes, heart clenching in agony that it was all going to be over. “Klement,” she whispered.

A loud bang reverberated through the small room. Kat flinched, expecting a jolt of pain, but there was nothing. Her eyes snapped open in time to see Klement charge into the room, face contorted in rage. The sound she’d heard was him bursting through the door.

A beastly roar poured from Klement’s throat as he tackled Richard to the ground. The gun went off, a deafening boom. A second loud crack rent the air, and something sliced across her upper arm like a trail of lava.

Kat stumbled back against Cliff’s bound legs and watched in mute awe as Klement pounded Richard with his fists. His brutal blows were seemingly in time with the ringing in her ears, and the gentle, brilliant man who’d held her and laughed with her was gone. Now he was a juggernaut of violent vengeance. Blood burst from Richard’s lips. Her ex’s nose broke with a sickening crunch. A bloody tooth flew from his mouth.

Roderick and another man burst suddenly into the room. They grabbed Klement’s arms, trying to pull him off of Richard, but neither could subdue their thrashing giant of a friend. Two bulky security guards came in next, and they finally succeeded in wresting him from his foe.

The second man stepped over to face Kat’s bloody, beaten ex. A shaft of light from the hall illuminated his face, and Kat’s jaw dropped. It was Dante Deity, one of the forefathers of metal. Was she dreaming? The icy burning on her arm told her otherwise.

Dante crouched down, peering at the floor. He was looking for the gun. When he spotted the weapon, he reached for it then shook his head and nudged it away with his platform boots. He crossed his arms over his chest and stood on guard in front of it.

Roderick raced over to Cliff and began tearing away the duct tape. Cursing loudly, he rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a Swiss Army knife.

Something warm and wet tickled Kat’s elbow. Tearing her gaze from the action, she looked down at her arm and gasped. Blood trickled in red rivulets from an angry, oval shaped wound on her bicep.

“Kat!” Klement’s voice pulled her back to attention. He jerked away from the security staff and flew to her in a rush of speed that defied physics. In the next heartbeat, she was cradled in his arms.

“He shot you!” His voice was wrought with pain. “That fucking piece of shit. Are you okay?”

“It’s only a flesh wound,” she said, in her best Monty Python impression.

Klement released her for a moment and tore his shirt off. He wadded it up and pressed it tightly to her arm before pulling her back into his embrace. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time. I promised you’d be safe,” he rambled. “God, he almost killed you. Please be okay. I love you.”

A drop of what felt like warm rain pattered on her forehead. She looked up to see his eyes swimming with tears.

“I love you,” he said again, looking at her like she was a priceless treasure.

“I love you, too,” she said through the lump in her throat. “I thought I’d never get to kiss you again.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, and she tasted the salt of his tears. But even sweeter, she tasted him.

A clamor of voices echoed around them, loud and insistent. Reluctantly, she broke away from Klement’s kiss. Somewhere in the chaos, police and medics had arrived. Richard was on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back.

“You’re under arrest for malicious mischief, harassment, and attempted murder,” one officer told him before delivering the Miranda rights.

“How did you find me? Kat asked.

“You dropped your medicine outside the door.” He reached in his pocket and handed her the bottle. “Then I heard him yelling at you.”

A silver-haired female medic gently pulled Kat from Klement’s embrace and drew away the wadded t-shirt to examine her wound. Cliff and Rod, and even Deity, talked with the police. One officer approached her and Klement.

“We’re going to have to ask you both some questions to complete our report.”

“Can it wait?” Kat asked. “We have to play the show.”

Klement stared at her with incomprehension. “But you’ve been shot!”

“I was only grazed. I can’t even feel it.”

“That’s because you’re in shock,” the medic said.

Kat lifted her chin. Her level gaze met Klement, Roderick, and Cliff’s. “We are doing the show.”

Chapter Twenty-three

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Klement asked for the tenth time. “Your arm has got to be killing you.”

“I am not going to puss out.”

Actually, her arm just felt weird. Numbness alternating with burning cold pulsed beneath the bandage. Kat flexed her fingers, grateful that they all moved the way she wanted. She’d promised to meet with the medics on the side stage after the set and then talk with the police after the concert. Suddenly, she realized she still hadn’t taken her Xanax. Now that the medics were probably going to give her something for her wound, she couldn’t. Kat took a deep breath and focused on the soothing blue of Klement’s eyes. Oh well. She’d just have to do this without a pill.

Klem ran a hand through his hair, face etched with worry. “Okay, but if it gets too bad, let me know between songs and we’ll cut the set short.”

Cliff surveyed her with awed eyes. “Damn, you’re tough.” His lips and cheeks were red and raw from the duct tape.

“The audience is waiting,” she said flatly. “Listen.”

From the stage they could hear the crowd chanting their name, clapping with each syllable. “Bleeding Vengeance. Bleeding Vengeance!”

Klement took her hand. “Well, let’s give them what they want.”

The crowd roared as they took the stage. Kat felt the reverberations beneath her feet. For a moment her heart stopped at the sight of what looked like millions of faces, though it was only thousands. Only, she scoffed inwardly.

Kinley’s advice anchored her. Just pretend we’re playing at a bar with our old band. Calm infused her. But she didn’t want to play with her old band. She wanted to play with Klement, Rod, and even Cliff. And they were all there. She just needed to conjure the bar part.

As Cliff approached the microphone, she knew it would be impossible to pretend she was in a tavern. But a dream, on the other hand… That could work.

“Thank you for waiting so long!” Cliff roared in his best stage voice. “We were held up by a madman. I was tied up!” He held his wrists together, miming captivity.

The masses gaped and clapped.

“Our new guitarist was shot!”

The crowd looked to her, and she displayed her bandage. They erupted in cheers. Kat bit back a laugh. Cliff was turning their harrowing experience into entertainment to make up for their tardiness. It was actually quite brilliant. Everyone was going to hear about the incident anyway. The press was all over the place. She’d even seen Marianne nosing around.

“But our bassist brought the guy down with the wrath of a vengeful demon!”

Klement gave Cliff a dark look before playing an ominous riff.

Cliff maintained a tense silence before pointing at Rod. “Our drummer brought salvation!”

Rod rattled off an impossibly fast drumbeat.

“And now we come for Vengeance!” Cliff leaned over, grinning maniacally at the audience as they shrieked in ecstasy. “Bleeding Vengeance!”

Klement started the bass riff for “Bring Out Your Dead.”

Right on her mark, Kat’s fingers raced across the fret board in that beloved shredding riff that she’d played since she’d fallen in love with this band. The crowd went insane, cheering and moshing like her most spectacular daydreams.

I’m doing it, an awestruck voice spoke in her head as she played the last chord and tossed guitar picks to a cheering audience. Not only that, but it’s fun!

Cliff launched into a brief eulogy for Lefty before they played his memorial song. Kat didn’t have to fake mournful despair as she played the solos she’d painstakingly composed. Solos that she hoped did him justice. Lighters sparked below in the pit and on the rolling hills before them like a thousand stars. Kat didn’t think she’d ever seen anything so beautiful.

At the end of the song, the applause was deafening. Well, Kat saw a few glares directed at her and was booed by what sounded like two people in the audience. She decided that they could go fuck themselves.

The rest of the show passed in a blur as she lost herself in the music. The noise of the crowd, the stage lights and smoke, the evocative thrum of Klement’s bass, it all put her into a euphoric trance. It was only for the last two songs that her arm started to hurt. The cold had vanished and turned to a blazing burn again. But that pain was nothing compared to the intense high she had from the show.

She made it through the encore, though her fingers started to tremble. That kinda made a cool effect on her riffs at least.

As the notes of the final song bled away, the band all joined hands and took their bow.

The applause felt like an earthquake. Kat’s knees suddenly turned watery, and her arm shrieked in pain. She must have swayed or something, because Klement looked down at her arm and frowned. The bandage was red and soaked with blood.

With slight nods between Klem, Cliff and Rod, they all left the stage. The medic scolded Kat as she removed the bandage and gave Kat a shot, along with two pills. Afterward, Kat barely understood a word the woman said. Her wound got disinfected and stitched up. Kat could see the stage, and she watched Viciӧus play their set. Kinley looked so badass that she wished the medic would hurry up with her arm so she could clap and cheer.

By the time she met with the police, Kat was so loopy from the pain meds that she forgot her fear of them. By the time they concluded their questions, she couldn’t even remember what she’d said. Whatever it was, they seemed satisfied.

There was no sign of Richard. Hopefully he was locked up in the back of a police car or already in a jail cell.

After the cops left, the band went to the backstage area and met countless eager fans. The guys signed t-shirts, posters, breasts—except for Klement—and even a few guitars. To Kat’s surprise, over half of the fans asked for her autograph as well.

“Did you really get shot before you came onstage?” a teenage boy asked.

When she confirmed, he declared her to be badass and hardcore. She tried not to laugh. Maybe it was the drugs that made it sound so funny.

Their crowd trickled away and flocked to Viciӧus, who was coming backstage. Kinley ignored the fans and hurried over with a huge grin.

“You played a whole set after getting shot? Way to outdo me, Kat.”

“I didn’t—”

Kinley’s arms enfolded her so tight she couldn’t breathe. “If anything happened to you…” She broke off with a sob, pulled away and wiped her eyes. “We’ll talk after the backstage stuff.”

“I wanted to tell you earlier, you were bloody fantastic,” Roderick cut in.

Cliff nodded. “Damn straight. You played like you belonged there.”

Klement bent down and kissed her cheek before surveying the others. “Should I have the record company send a contract?”

“Hell yeah,” Rod and Cliff said in unison.

Kat’s breath whooshed out of her body. A contract meant they wanted her to join the band permanently.

Before she could process that amazing news, she heard gasps behind her. Dante Deity approached. Kat had a sudden hazy memory of him in the electrical room, making sure Richard couldn’t reach the gun. That couldn’t have been him. Could it?

“It’s sure been an exciting evening, hasn’t it?” he said, smiling at her.

She nodded, losing her voice.

“We haven’t been introduced yet.” He extended a hand. “I’m Dante Deity.”

“I know.” She shook her head. “I mean, I’m Katana James.”

His sharp black eyebrow rose even as his blue eyes glittered with amusement. His hand was warm and firm in her grasp. Curly black hair framed a classically handsome face as his lips curved in a devastating smile.

Klement put a hand on her shoulder as he spoke to Dante. “She’s our new guitarist.”

“Yes, I heard. You’re very talented—and incredibly tough, to play your first big show with a bullet hole in your arm.”

“It was only a flesh wound,” Kat said weakly, this time unable to muster a British accent. She leaned back against Klement’s chest.

Dante laughed and patted her on the shoulder before looking up at Klement. “So, now that Bleeding Vengeance is back in action, would you like to take part in a charity concert with me? It’s going to be called Metalfeed and will raise money for the homeless.”

“Sounds awesome. We definitely owe you for stepping in for us after Lefty died. Put us down as a tentative yes. I’ll still need to check with our tour manager,” Klement said. “I’ll call you as soon as I know for certain.”

Kat blinked. He had Deity’s number? This new world she’d entered was so surreal, but she was happy to be in it.

After Deity left to do the closing show, Klement grinned down at Kat. “You think I’m a workaholic? Just wait till you get to know that guy.”

Kat laughed. “I’ve heard. Kinley got to interview him last year. I was so jealous.”

“Well, he was definitely impressed with you,” Cliff said.

Rod nodded. “It pays to get on his good side. The man’s a legend.”

Kat turned and wrapped her arms around Klement’s waist. “I’m more impressed with this one.” She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “I don’t think this night can get any better.”

Actually, she knew she’d likely have a delayed panic attack after the incident with Richard, but even that was all right because she knew Klement would be there to bring her out of it.

As if to concur, Klem’s reply rumbled against her ear. “Let’s go back to the hotel and I’ll prove otherwise.”

And he did.

Epilogue

Kat smiled across the table at Kinley and Quinn as they passed the turkey. Quinn didn’t get along with Kinley’s dad, so they’d decided to celebrate Thanksgiving at Kat’s house. Kat’s mom was pleased for the company.

Even better, Klement had been able to join them. He sat between Kat and her mother, who had liked Klement right away. Although her judgment of men wasn’t always the best, Kat still felt a measure of relief. Her mom had hated Richard from the get-go.

Klement seemed to take to Esmeralda James in return, though at first he was overwhelmed with her instant scolding about how skinny he was and her determination to feed him. His bewilderment with being instantly mothered was at first amusing until Kat remembered that his own parents had neglected him.

Her thoughts broke off as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. Kat didn’t think she’d ever be unaffected by his touch.

The long-distance relationship was working better than she’d thought. Instead of forgetting about her like she’d feared, Klement called her every day, regaling her with tales of his cats’ antics and the progress of his multiple projects. He’d even flown out to visit her twice. She’d flown down to see him, too, shocked to discover that he’d turned over one of his software endeavors to his sisters and cut his crop down to three plants so he could spend more time with her. He seemed to be smoking less too. Their time together was so relaxing and happy that she barely needed her Xanax when she was with him. But when he was gone, she missed him so much it hurt.

Scolding herself for being ungrateful, she vowed instead to appreciate the fact that he was spending Thanksgiving with her. He even got along with her aunt and grandma. Seeing his genuine kindness and respect to her family made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

After the table was cleared, Klement ushered Kat and Kinley and Quinn over to him. “I have advance copies of the album,” he announced.

They gathered excitedly as he reached in his bag and pulled out freshly made CDs and passed them out. Kat remained frozen as she cradled the disk in her hand. The album art was spectacular as usual, with their ghoulish mascot, “Fred,” emerging from flames wielding a bloody machete.

“I love how it hearkens back to the old-school album art,” she said finally.

Klement nodded. “Now check out the inner sleeve.”

Reverently, she pulled it out and gasped to see herself pictured with the band. She truly was one of them now. Perusing the song lists, she gasped to see her name listed in the writing credits to a few. She’d known that would happen, but there was just something about seeing the proof.

The surreal joy multiplied as her mom and grandma looked at her picture and exclaimed over her name listed in multiple places on the sleeve. Grandma wrinkled her nose at the cover art but still declared that she was proud of Kat.

Later, as Kat helped Mom with the dishes, Esmeralda turned to her daughter. “Klement seems like a very nice man. And he’s head over heels for you, it’s obvious. But”—she pointed a soapy spoon at Kat—“this going back and forth between Denver and Coeur d’Alene isn’t going to work forever.”

“I know,” Kat said glumly. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to spend more time with Klement, but she didn’t want to neglect her mom, either.

“But Klement told me I’m welcome to come to Denver and stay in one of his guest rooms,” Mom continued.

Kat’s jaw dropped. “He talked with you about it?” Her mind spun at the implications. “Still, it’s too soon for that sort of commitment.”

“I agree,” Esmeralda said firmly. “I am not ready to consider uprooting myself and becoming a live-in mother-in-law. However, it’s not too soon for you.”

“But what about you?” Kat said doubtfully. “Won’t you be lonely?”

“Yes, but you can’t cling to my skirts forever, no matter how much I love you for it. It’s past time you left the nest and lived your own life.” Her lips curved in an arch smile. “Besides, your aunt Monique is devastated by her son going away to college and wants to move in.”

Kat laughed, though the tension in her shoulders eased at the relief that her mom wouldn’t be neglected. “I see. Well, I’ll talk to Klement and see what he says. At least we have a year to figure it out, since we’ll be touring soon.”

When they headed back into the living room and saw Klement laughing and talking with her family, her heart pulsed with warmth. She’d been so nervous about how he would react to her humble home and background, since he was so rich. Instead, he fit right in. And when she saw the utter joy in his eyes when her grandma hugged him, she couldn’t help but think of when he’d told her about his own family’s neglect. Kat couldn’t help but hope that together they could fill that void.

She joined him on the couch and basked in the warmth of his smile.

Suddenly, Kinley rose from her seat. “Quinn and I have an announcement.”

Kat gripped Klement’s hand and hoped the news was what she’d guessed.

“We’re getting married,” Kinley and Quinn said together.

Kat leapt up from the couch and hugged them. “Congratulations!”

Klement high-fived the happy couple and pulled Kat into his arms. “Maybe you’ll catch the bouquet,” he whispered.

She held him tightly, heart swelling with happiness. “Maybe I will.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Formerly an auto-mechanic, Brooklyn Ann thrives on writing romance featuring unconventional heroines and heroes who adore them. An author of historical paranormal romance in her critically acclaimed Scandals with Bite series, urban fantasy in the cult favorite, Brides of Prophecy novels, and the Reader’s Choice Award Winning, Hearts of Metal series, she provides love for the broken and strange.

She lives in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho with her son, her cat, and a 1980 Datsun 210.

ALSO BY BROOKLYN ANN

The Hearts of Metal Series
Kissing Vicious

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Table of Contents

- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Epilogue
- About the Author
- Also by Brooklyn Ann