Twisted Wings

by Tina Saxon

  Unlike Sydney, who is searching for other artists to talk to, I’m searching for exits and security. Once I’ve surveyed the entire place, I relax a little.

  I jerk my head down when a squeal comes out of her mouth, wondering where she’s hurt. She leans into me close and I catch a whiff of her perfume. I pull in a deep inhale, her smell triggering memories of her in my arms. Of the night we fucked. Ice-blue eyes pierce me through the darkness, her perfect body molding to mine. My soul devouring every piece of her.

  “Max.” Sydney’s voice pulls me back. Where we’re just friends. I sigh at the thought before looking at her. Her brows furrow. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Sorry.” I shake my head, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “I was just remembering something I have to take care of tomorrow. What’s up?”

  “I said that I really want to meet Savanah Morris.” She tilts her head in the woman’s direction. “Someone told me backstage that she was a fan of mine. I about died. Savanah, a fan of mine?”

  “Stop selling yourself short.” I wish she could see how amazing she is like everyone else does.

  She rolls her eyes at me. “You’re just saying that cause you’re a friend.” I’m starting to hate that word. “But let’s go over because she’s with Preston.”

  She wraps her arm in mine and leads me to the group of people standing to the side of the stage. Savanah glances our way as we approach, and her smile widens.

  As soon as Preston sees us he gives Sydney a hug and shakes my hand. He introduces us to the six people, including Savanah. Although, we’ve already met.

  “Max.” Her eyes bounce from me to Sydney, with questions in them before she walks over and gives me a hug. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  Sydney’s posture straightens, and she takes a step closer to me. I stop myself from looking down at her wondering what the hell. “You two know each other?” The excitement in her voice thirty seconds ago falls flat. Preston’s brows rise. His confusion is on par with mine. Don’t get me wrong, I may be confused, but I’m happy as fuck she’s getting territorial with me.

  “We do,” I reply, wondering how Savanah plans on explaining our acquaintance. “It’s been a long time, Savanah.”

  “Too long,” she says in a sing-song voice. “I see you’ve given up your rule about staying in the background.”

  Every rule I’ve ever enforced is tossed out the door for Sydney. I shrug as if it’s not a big deal despite knowing the repercussions that could happen from placing myself in the public eye. My business could suffer. Shaw Security has a reputation of confidentiality and covertness and I’m putting that at risk. Although, I’ve maintained that with my team being here. I’m the only one who’s been by her side, making me more susceptible to the public eye.

  “And Sky, I’m so excited to meet you. I love your song, ‘Take Me Back.’”

  “Thank you, it’s great to meet you too.” I watch her paste a fake smile on her face. To everyone else, it looks genuine. Except, she’s not happy. It’s killing her not knowing how Savanah and I know each other. And since she was a client, I can’t disclose that information. She hired my team because she was having issues with an ex-husband and worried about her safety. When Savanah doesn’t divulge the specifics of our relationship, it only leaves Sydney to guess. And by her body language, her guess is not accurate. Girls are catty because I’m certain Savanah did that on purpose. When we walk away, I break another fucking rule.

  “She was a client,” I whisper.

  “I figured,” she says coolly, yet her body relaxes next to me. “She doesn’t seem your type. She’s too tall.”

  I throw my head back in laughter. “That’s a big observation, considering you’ve never met a past girlfriend.”

  She stops and pins me with her gaze. “Am I wrong?”

  I think back to the women I’ve been attracted to. “They might have been on the shorter side.” None compare to the five-foot-two gorgeous woman standing in front of me though. So, if I have a type, it’s not what they look like, it’s Sydney. She flashes a grin and spins on her heel.

  As I watch her float around the room, I question why I’m here again. The compulsory need to help her seems to be ingrained so deep inside me, it’s jarring. From the first day we met in Aiden’s hospital room to the day we jumped out of a plane, the effect she had on me differed from any other woman. But I couldn’t pinpoint why. Why was I so attracted to her? She’s beautiful, intelligent, sensitive yet feisty; I could list everything that I love about her and I’d still be left questioning why her. Although, it’s all irrelevant because her guilt lies deeper than our attraction.

  I’m stuck between being a hero and her friend, of which neither will make me happy because I don’t have her.

  “You’ve gone quiet,” Sydney says with a slight slur, slinking up my arm. She giggles when I lift a brow. “Right. What was I thinking, you’re a man of few words.” Her eyes gloss over as she waves a hand around, spilling some of her wine on her shirt. Thankfully, it’s chardonnay. “Oopsy.” She grins wide, her perfectly white teeth reflecting in the dim room.

  Grabbing the drink from her hand, I whisper, “I think it’s time to go.” The last shot of tequila is in full effect.

  “I think you’re right,” she mumbles, wiping the small spill off her bare chest. My eyes dart away, searching for somewhere to put the glass so I don’t offer to help. With my tongue. “I want to look like a fool.”

  “Huh?”

  She shakes her head and chuckles. “I don’t want to look like a fool.”

  “Good idea,” I say, wrapping my arm around her waist and leading her to the exit. Before we walk out, I glance down and do a quick assessment of her before we meet the vultures. She looks gorgeous. “Hey, Tink…” When I have her attention, I continue, “… we’re heading outside, say nothing to the paparazzi, just keep walking and ignore them.”

  “Okay, Mr. AMA’s Most Wanted.” A security guard overhears her and coughs to hide his chuckle when I glance at him.

  “You want me to throw you over my shoulder, don’t you?” I tease.

  Her eyes widen and she places her petite hand on my chest, like it could stop me. “Max. I will scream your full name to everyone out there if you do. Aaannnd they’ll love hearing that you’re a millionaire.”

  Shit. My smile drops as hers grows. She wouldn’t. Then again, she’s drunk.

  “Leverage, baby,” she quips, walking out the door, swinging her sinful ass. At least I know she’s capable of walking on her own.

  She flashes a wicked smile as the paparazzi scream their questions.

  “What’s my name?”

  “Are we dating?”

  “Boxers or briefs?”

  I tilt my head, staring pointedly at the guy who yelled the last one, and he cowers. Jesus Christ… these people have no limits.

  “Co—” I slap my hand over Sydney’s mouth. It wouldn’t embarrass me for people to know that I sometimes go commando, but she’d be mortified in the morning. Her stomach vibrates under my hand from laughing as I lead her to the limo.

  I shove her in and say, “I thought your goal was to not look like a fool?”

  She shrugs. “Your fans were interested. And since I know…” Her words trail off and her eyes close. “You know what I want.” She leans over and whispers in my ear, the smell of tequila lingering on her breath. She’ll hate life tomorrow.

  I chuckle as she tries to focus her eyes on my face. “I have no idea. But if it’s more alcohol, I’m going to say no.”

  She shakes her head slowly. “Nope. That’s not what I want.” She touches my hand, and the buzz of desire immediately slams back as she drags her finger up my forearm. “I want…” she looks at me through hooded eyelids, licking her lips, “… you to tie me up.” Her eyes glow with eagerness as she straddles me, her skirt bunching up around her waist.

  My muscles tense under her body. Closing my eyes, I search for the restraint I
’ve always had with her. I slowly open them. “Sydney,” I grate out in warning. She fucking giggles.

  “Yesss?” she purrs. Her fingers slide down my tie, stopping at my belt. She lifts her hips to run her hand in between us, over the swell of my cock. She lets out an approving hum. “You want me, Max.”

  There’s a fine line between want and need. I’m in the gray area where they both intersect. The area is blurred which blinds me to my emotions. I never know which direction I should be going. Only, I can’t let go.

  I grab both her hands, pinning them behind her back. She pushes out her breasts, tempting me. Her blue eyes flash with fire and ice. My restraint slips as I growl, “Get on your knees.” I release her hands and she slides off me, sitting on her knees on the limo floor in front of me. Waiting to be told what to do.

  I could easily whip out my dick and have those red lips wrap around me, milking me.

  I could easily do everything I’ve been fantasizing about tonight.

  I swallow, looking out the moon roof.

  Fuck! That’s the problem. It’s too easy.

  She’s drunk and I’m clearly thinking with the wrong head.

  I roll down the privacy window and instruct the driver to pull over. Rolling the window back up, Sydney peers up at me with a questioning expression. I lift her back up to her seat, reach over to grab the seatbelt and stretch it across her body.

  “Max, what are you doing?”

  The car stops and I kiss her on the forehead before hopping out on the dim empty street. The driver rolls the front window down and I instruct him to take her to the hotel. I pace the street, hands behind my tense neck. Goddamnit, Sydney. Why did you do that? Pulling out my phone, I shoot off a text to Stone. He’ll intercept her and make sure she makes it up to her room. We’re only three blocks away from the hotel so I’m not concerned about her safety. My sanity is my top priority right now.

  My feet pound the pavement as I walk in the direction of the hotel. Live rock music blares out of a dive bar as I pass it and I try to talk myself out of turning around and drowning my frustrations with liquor. I would never do that on a job.

  Sydney’s a job.

  My fingers tighten into fists as I stare at the hotel, glowing against the dark sky, my mind stuck on ice-blue eyes. Fuck that, I can’t go back to the hotel. Spinning in place, I take two long strides toward the open door. The bouncer looks me over, recognition flashes in his eyes. With a tip of his head, he motions for me to head inside without asking for my ID. Before, when someone recognized me, it was because they knew about my team. Now, I don’t have a fucking clue. I’m not sure putting myself in the spotlight was a good idea.

  Sliding onto an empty barstool, I pull out a hundred-dollar bill, pushing it toward the bartender. “Johnny Walker, neat. Keep ‘em coming.”

  My phone vibrates in my pocket so I pull it out.

  Stone: In bed and passed out

  Good. I hope like hell she doesn’t remember tonight. Shit will get awkward. My phone vibrates again.

  Stone: You good?

  Me: Never better

  Stone: Fucking liar

  I chuckle, bringing the glass to my lips. When the golden liquid wets my mouth, I can’t stop from downing the entire drink. I slam the glass down, sliding it to the bartender. He nods, fills it again and slides it back. I spin the barstool, sitting back while I watch the band on the tiny stage. The small-framed brunette swings her hips and belts out a song. See, she’s short and I’m not at all attracted to her. I sigh as her voice screeches through the air. I don’t know if I’m more irritated that her voice is annoying as fuck, or if it’s because it’s not Sydney’s. The past few weeks, my addiction to her has grown to an unhealthy level. And hiding it from her is becoming harder each day we’re together.

  Her stalker has nothing on me.

  The only difference between the two of us… I’d never physically hurt her.

  But I would kill for her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Max

  “How much longer?” Stone asks, staring at me from across the table, weaving a pencil between his fingers. We’re having our pre-concert meeting in my hotel suite. The word forever is on the tip of my tongue, but if I say it, he’ll probably launch the pencil at my head.

  Instead, I glare back at him, irritated he asked. Although, I get it. I shouldn’t be using most of my resources for this one case. If this was a typical case, I’d have one person working it. But this is Sydney. I need all hands on deck. Typically, these types of people don’t hide for long. They feel justified for doing what they do and won’t stop until they are satisfied. I don’t think they’re satisfied.

  I sigh out of frustration and relent. “If nothing happens this week, you guys can go home.”

  Stone rubs his temples. He’s been frustrated with me over my feelings about Sydney ever since she was engaged to Damon. And now here I am, following her around the country, using her security as an excuse. I could pass this off to another team I trust, but fuck that.

  I’m not leaving.

  “If you want me to stay, I will,” Kase states, sitting forward in his chair. Stone jerks his head toward Kase, the pencil gripped in his fist. Kase looks at Stone and shrugs. It’s not that Stone doesn’t want to complete a job, he just hates seeing the emotional warfare I’m putting myself through. If he had a say, he’d rather me leave and they stay. But since he’s not the boss, he doesn’t.

  What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment. I wish I couldn’t read past the lies that came out of her mouth. Her truths flash bright in her eyes and body language. That’s even before last weekend’s drunk Sydney came out to play. She wants me as bad as I do her. But we’ve made our own hell. Or maybe I’m causing the hell we surround ourselves in because I can’t stay away.

  Aiden called me this week after seeing the tabloids with her in my arms making sure I was okay. Even though he’d rather see us together, he knows how I feel. Which is crazy because I don’t even know how I feel from one minute to the next. I thought I could handle being around her. But the first night on the bus, it took every bit of restraint I had to walk out of that room and sleep five feet from her.

  I glance at Kase and send an appreciative nod. “I’ll decide what we’re doing after the show. For now, we keep doing what we’ve been doing. Stone, have you found Rex?” I clip, still pissed this hasn’t been resolved. Three weeks since I talked to my mom, and no one has yet to hear from him.

  “No. He’s dead or off the grid.”

  “Fuck.” I hang my head, the strain gripping my insides. “There is no way in hell I could ever tell Susie her son is dead.” My mom would lose her shit. “Have you checked all five homes?” A shimmer of hope that the bastard broke into one of my houses and is hiding out.

  Stone shakes his head. “There’s been no trip in the security alarms. And I checked the surveillance footage just in case he got around that somehow.”

  He’d never get around Stone’s security, so the latter part was only for my peace of mind. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I fucking don’t have time for this.” Thinking he was on vacation somewhere or just lying low, I didn’t give it much attention before. “That fucker got himself into this, he can get himself out.” My mom’s voice ricochets in my mind, the guilt already creating a knot.

  “Want me to get Cody to go check out the team?” Stone asks, knowing I can’t let this go. Since I’m not leaving Sydney’s side, the next best option is to send one of the guys. I shoot him a quick nod.

  There, I did my part.

  Sydney shines in her element. Her body moves without thought, dances with reckless abandon. She’s so fucking sexy. Watching her is like being in a cage with a tiger. The adrenaline inside me wants to tame her, make her mine, but the voice in my head is telling me I’ll get eaten alive. The power she holds over me is a vice to my existence. I can’t seem to break away. And since she hopped her hot body on top of mine, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head.


  “We’re all clear up here.” A voice rings in my ear. I shake out of the trance I’m caught in.

  I take a deep breath. Keep your shit together.

  “Clear down…” I stop mid-sentence, staring across the stage. Brett, the stage manager, is standing behind a speaker, his eyes pinned on Sydney. I glance around and while most people are watching her too, they are looking at her in awe. Brett’s intense stare sends warning bells inside of me.

  Son of a bitch. It better not be someone this close and we missed it.

  “We need to look more into Brett McDonald.” I ran background checks on the entire staff, but no one jumped out at us.

  “Got it, boss,” Stone replies in my ear.

  “Nixon, I need your eyes on him. Something’s up with this guy.”

  “Found ‘em.”

  When Sydney’s song ends, the lights go dark to [change floor]. I keep my eyes trained on him as he works. When the lights shine back on, the crowd goes wild. I turn my attention back to Syd so he doesn’t suspect anything, but I watch him out of the corner of my eyes. His gaze stays glued on her the rest of her time on stage.

  After her set is over, she runs to the side stage I’m standing on. Her black tank shows her gorgeous boobs off, her chest glistening with sweat. She wraps her hair up in a bun showing off her long neck. My mouth waters thinking how salty she would taste right now. She bounces on her toes as the endorphins rush through her body. I know that rush; I crave it.

  “That crowd is insane,” she boasts.

  I peek out at the audience, the cheers and roars, I can see why she’s so hyped up. Brett stares in our direction. Fucker keeps watching. I slide my arm around her small waist and pull her into me, my lips slamming against hers elicit a surprised expression. The second I taste her, I know this was a bad idea.

  I pull back, trying to act immune to her body. I force my gaze to look for Brett, but he’s gone.