Detour Complete Series

by Kacey Shea

  “Maybe. Or a disgruntled former employee. An ex-girlfriend with a point to prove.” I tilt my head and shrug. “It’s imperative we leave no stone unturned.”

  “What do you need from us?” Sean asks, triggering murmurs of agreement around the table.

  “To start? A list of anyone you’ve dated.”

  Austin chews the inside of his cheek. “Define date,” his lips twist with humor.

  “You really need me to spell that out for you?” I say snappier than I intend. If anyone notices, they don’t react.

  “Kinda.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I mean, is it only women we’ve had a relationship with, or ones we fucked too?”

  Involuntary, I squeeze my thighs together and hate that my body reacts to his crass words.

  Trent shakes his head, but he doesn’t laugh. “Can’t you do anything like a normal person?”

  “Define normal.” Austin winces and then gives in to a megawatt smile.

  “Fuck, Austin, this isn’t a joke,” Sean groans. “Stop pissing off the woman who’s here to protect our lives.”

  Austin has the nerve to look offended. “I just want to make sure I get the instructions right.”

  “A list.” I school my features and refrain from glaring at him when I say it. “Of those you’ve been intimate with. Can you do that for me?”

  “Uh . . .” He makes that same stupid goofball face and winces like he might actually be embarrassed by his next words. “First names are fine, right? I think I can remember most of those.”

  I lift my brow, and try to contain my disgust. That why he’s single, he’s become a ladies’ man? “You sleep with that many women?”

  “Hey”—Trent holds up his hands—“it happens on tour.” He grunts as Lexi jabs him in the side. “Used to happen. As in past tense. I meant that I can understand where he’s coming from.” His gaze goes to hers, almost pleading she understand. Though by her hard expression, I don’t think she gives him a pass.

  I glance at Leighton and Sean. “Either of you have trouble remembering the women you’ve slept with?”

  Leighton shakes his head in the negative.

  “No, ma’am.” Sean answers and then chances a glance at his bandmates. His lips quiver with the hint of a smile. “But that’s because I’m not a whore like Aust.”

  “I thought you were against slut shaming!” Austin pretends to be put out, but his smug grin never fully leaves his lips. “I get no respect.”

  “We love you, Aust, but even you have to admit you take it to the extreme,” Opal says, her voice light and innocent. She doesn’t look old enough to be a mother, but her baby bump says otherwise.

  “I love women.” Austin chuckles, and his gaze brushes over my body again. “If that makes me wrong, I don’t want to be right.”

  I swear everyone in the room holds their breath, as if they’re unsure of how I’ll react to his blatant perusal of my body, or his immature words. They don’t realize it takes a lot to scare me off. As disappointed as I am by his behavior, my personal opinion of Austin or his sexual history have no bearing on my work ethic.

  “Look, I’m not here because of Austin’s inability to keep his dick in his pants. Or, at least I hope not, because I am not getting paid enough.” I lift my brow at Austin, and he has the decency to appear embarrassed. A few people let loose a chuckle, but I continue reaching into my bag to pull out a stack of blank paper and a handful of pens. “So, if you’ll please jot down anyone you can think of who might have something against you. Anyone you’ve wronged. Anyone who might have felt jilted by a sudden absence of attention.”

  “This is stupid. We all know this was Coy,” Sean grates out through a clenched jaw.

  “We actually don’t know that,” I say. “He has an alibi. It checks out.”

  Austin shakes his head. “Then he paid someone. He had to. The guy’s ballsy enough to sue me, he’s crazy enough for this.”

  “Look. Maybe it’s him, and he’s not off my list, but I want to exhaust every possibility. We don’t have the luxury of being wrong.”

  “What about the show tomorrow?” Trent hands me his list. It’s short, which makes sense considering he and Lexi have already been together a year. “Are we sure the fans are safe? That we’re safe? I love this band, but I’m not about to get killed over live music. Maybe we should cancel.”

  “You’d be in violation of your contract,” Casey pipes in. He’s been silent for most of this meeting and it draws suspicion since the guy can’t shut up otherwise. He’s the only person on WMI’s payroll.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it.” Sean points at him. “You were there in Salt Lake. You sat in that room and watched the news with us. Don’t tell me you’d be able to risk it for the fine print in some contract.”

  Casey glances down at his hands, clenching them together and pulling them apart. “I’m only stating facts, not my opinion,” he mumbles, not meeting Sean’s glare.

  “I am fully confident we’re good to resume this tour,” I say, willing my voice not to waver. I can’t guarantee it. That’s the thing about crime, about life; nothing is certain. “Chances of anyone who’s not authorized getting into the arena tomorrow is slim to none, and quite frankly, I don’t think we’re working with a mastermind.”

  The stares that meet mine reflect the same fear and concern I’ve seen a thousand times. They want to trust my words, but they’ve experienced the darker side of humanity and it’s still fresh in their minds.

  “If Jay says we’re good, then I believe her.” Austin’s voice breaks the silence. “She’s the most honest person I know.”

  His words, God, they do something to me. My stomach clenches with anticipation, for what I don’t know. My body heats under the warmth of his stare. His compliment is unexpected, and yet it’s the only thing he’s said since walking in this house that reminds me of the boy he used to be. Maybe fame hasn’t completely stolen the person he was.

  “You think we’ll be safe on this tour?” he asks, catching and holding my gaze. “The fans too?”

  Ignoring the way my pulse races at the trust he’s putting in my hands, I nod. “Yes, I do.”

  “All right, then,” Trent slides a sheet of paper toward his friend. “Better start writing. It may take all night.”

  The proud grin that spreads across Austin’s lips tramples any goodwill I was beginning to feel. I can’t let my guard down around him. I can’t afford to let him distract me, not when he’s obviously a player. The type of man who gets whatever he wants—whoever he wants. He thinks he can flash that grin and I’ll bend to his will. He’s about to learn a hard lesson, because he won’t have me. No fucking way.

  119

  Austin

  Catching a plane to meet back up with our tour bus feels like a bad case of déjà vu. We just did this a week ago, but since then everything has changed. Nerves invade our ride to the airport, the usual banter and conversation gone. We’re all afraid of the looming unknown. Sure, it’s no different than any other day. Bad shit happens all the time. Accidents happen. Life is temporary. But ever since the explosion, those thoughts sit in the forefront of my mind. Same as with my bandmates. Same as the entire crew.

  Fear is a controlling bitch, and I refuse to let it sour this day.

  “Today feels like a good day to not blow shit up. Don’t you think?”

  Everyone in the SUV groans, but it no longer feels as if we’re on our way to a funeral.

  “What? Something I said?” I glance around, a smile playing on my lips. I’m the guy who cracks jokes at the most inopportune times. Why stop now? I’m determined to lighten the serious scowls. By the time we touch down in San Antonio I’ll have everyone, including the team of security, cracking a smile.

  “Just don’t yell bomb before we take off,” Sean warns, but there’s a lift to his lips, as if he’s fighting back a grin.

  “But after is cool?”

  Trent chuckles. “You’re gonna get us detained.”

>   “If that includes a full cavity search, I’m game.”

  “You’re a sick bastard.” Leighton laughs.

  A smart retort dies on my lips as our chartered SUV pulls to the curb at John Wayne Airport and I spot Jayla among the team of security. Hot damn. Decked out in what I will forever refer to as Sexy CSI, her breasts press against the buttons of her crisp white shirt, and the thick leather belt that wraps around her waist only accentuates the curve of her hips. God, I love how feminine she is, even in her gender-neutral power suit. Dark mirrored shades hide her perpetually calculating eyes, and her glossed lips pinch into a firm line. She appears every bit the boss of this brigade, and pride fills my chest knowing I made this happen.

  I allow my bandmates to exit the vehicle first, hanging on to the freedom of these last moments to drink her in without being caught. Once I exit the car, I have some serious groveling to do.

  “Come on, Aust. Don’t make us late,” Trent hollers from outside the vehicle.

  Jayla’s gaze flicks to the open door. She’s waiting for me, too.

  A grin pulls at my lips and I slide toward the door, jumping out onto the curb with a wide smile in place. Only, she’s no longer looking my way. In fact, she makes a point of turning away completely.

  “Let’s head inside. The plane is ready,” she says to the security team and turns, removing her sunglasses and allowing her gaze to linger on each of us as she scans our small crowd. Except me. The second her eyes tilt in my direction, she walks away. I swear, if I didn’t already feel ten inches tall, I do now.

  Jayla was not impressed with my list of sexual partners when we met at the house yesterday. Not that I expected her to be. I wasn’t exactly sure how she’d react, but the fall of disgust that took over her features wasn’t it. Actually, if I’m honest, I was embarrassed handing over my list. If she were anyone else, I’d have zealously shown off my conquests like a proud peacock, but this was Jayla. I didn’t want her to know I’d gotten my dick wet in almost every major American city, and some international, all because I wanted to blow off the post-show high with some pre-departure coitus.

  The burn of her indifference as she scanned the paper that held predominately first names hurt the most. It’s something I never considered. All these times I’ve been living my best life, hooking up with whomever I wanted, no strings attached, not imagining I’d someday have to come clean.

  If there was any chance of her wanting to hook up, I pretty much killed it with that list.

  Taking a few long strides, I catch up to Jayla and match her quick pace inside the airport concourse. Her shoulders tense, but she doesn’t slow as I approach. If anything, she picks up speed.

  “Hey.” I chase after her like a kicked puppy. “Jay, wait up.”

  She ignores me.

  Fucking blows me off.

  Challenge accepted. I don’t give up easily. I speed walk alongside her, not saying a word. She wants to ice me? Two can play at that game.

  Her gaze takes in everything as we pass through the private gate. She’s cold. Calculated. And fucking hot.

  “I don’t remember you walking so fast.” I break, because hell, if there’s anything I suck at, it’s keeping my mouth shut.

  Her lips pinch, as if it’s work for her to suppress a smart retort. Of course, that only fuels my desire to elicit a reaction from her.

  “There’s a question I’ve been wondering all morning,” I say, hoping she’ll bite. The silence drags between us, the rest of the band trailing a few yards behind. “I know you’re not a cop anymore, but did you happen to pack a set of handcuffs?”

  She acts as if she didn’t hear. Ignoring me. As if that’ll make me stop.

  It’s like she doesn’t even know me.

  “Because I’d be into that.”

  “Stop. Just stop.” Her nostrils flare, and she raises her hand, holding it in the air between us. She comes to a halt and I almost trip when I realize she’s not walking anymore.

  “What?” I flash a smile and glance around like I didn’t just hit on her.

  “I cannot believe that works for you.”

  I stare blankly.

  She rolls her eyes and resumes her long strides. “You seriously think I’d let you handcuff me after a bad pick up line? Jesus.”

  “You can cuff me instead. I’m very open minded when it comes to sex.”

  “Don’t.” Her gaze trains forward and her lips pinch together. “Don’t do that with me.”

  I hold up my hands, the poster boy of innocence. “What am I doing?”

  “Making this a big joke. Diminishing my role. Expecting sex. If you hired me so I’d sleep with you, you must not remember who I am. Or yourself.” She lets out a snarl of disgust and shakes her head.

  Fuck. That’s what she thinks? My feet falter and I nearly do trip. “Shit.” I regain my balance and break into a jog. “Hold up. Jay! Wait!”

  “What?” Jayla stops, heaving a forceful exhale as she meets my stare. “We have a plane to catch. I have a job to do.”

  My throat constricts and I swallow. “I’m sorry.”

  “Okay.” She stares over my shoulder.

  “Shit.” I shove my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. “I’m an idiot most of the time, and I make jokes. Because that’s what I do.”

  Her chin lifts, and her gaze meets mine. “I thought you played guitar.”

  “Yeah. I mean, sure.” I rock back on my heels and shrug. “But I’m the guy who lightens the mood when things get too intense. I don’t have a filter. At least, I’ve ignored it for a long time.”

  “Well, I don’t think you’re funny.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

  “Yeah, I’m getting that vibe.” I should win an award for self-control because I don’t allow my gaze to drop from hers once, even though her tits must look fantastic pressed together by her arms.

  “Then why say shit you know is gonna piss me off?” She lifts a brow and I swear there’s a slight hint of a smile.

  “Because you’re hot when you’re mad.” I chew the inside of my cheek.

  She blinks as if I’m stupid. “Really?”

  “It’s true! I’m not even kidding. It’s kind of a turn on how badass you’ve become.” I hold up my hands, because I’m being completely honest. “Can we have a re-do? I’ll try not to be an asshole, and maybe sometimes you can smile.”

  She rolls her eyes, but her tone is light. “You really think that’s possible?”

  “I mean, sure.” I wink and give her my most charming grin. “You’re totally fighting it right now. Come on. I know you wanna smile.”

  “Oh, Austin.” She glances up at the ceiling and only then gives in to a grin. She shakes her head and meets my gaze. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I’d prefer something very, very dirty. But”—I quickly amend before she quits on the spot or punches me in the balls—“I want to get to know you again. I missed you, Jay. You were my best friend.” The best one I’ve ever had if I’m completely honest. I don’t say that, though. She doesn’t need to know I’m more like the pathetic loser I used to be in high school than I’d like to admit.

  “I missed you, too,” she admits softly.

  I resist the urge to sling my arm around her shoulder, pull her to my side, and walk us the rest of the way to the gate. Our party is catching up, and I’m not quite ready to share her company, so instead I tip my chin to the waiting flight attendants and begin walking in hopes she’ll follow. “So, let’s start over. How about you tell me what you’ve been up to? How you got into law enforcement and private security.” I want to know everything about her, but that makes me sound like a creep. I can’t ask her the questions I really want. What makes her come undone? How many sexual partners she’s had since our baffled attempt at losing our virginity? My gaze rakes down her body and I clear my throat. “You can tell me about the kind of music you like.”

  “Music?” She stares as if she doesn’t believe me. I both hate and love how p
erceptive she is. “You want to discuss my music preferences?”

  “Yeah. I mean, besides Three Ugly Guys and Beyoncé.” I tilt my chin to catch her reaction. “What’s on your heavy rotation?”

  “Beyoncé? That ’cause I’m black?” She raises her brows.

  “You’re joking, right?” I laugh out loud. “Don’t think I forgot all the times you made me listen to Destiny’s Child.”

  “I’ve changed a lot since then. Maybe my music tastes have too.”

  “Have they?”

  “No. Beyoncé is queen.” She laughs out loud, really laughs, and my God, it’s the most beautiful sound. Like something I didn’t realize I’ve been missing, I want to hear it again. I want to be the reason for it.

  “So, can we talk on the flight?” I turn to her and hope my face communicates my sincerity. “I’d like to call a truce.”

  “That I can do.” She tips her head toward the rest of band. “After we get everyone on this plane.”

  “Deal.” Pathetic as it sounds, I’ve never been so excited to step foot on a plane. Jayla’s giving me another shot, and this time I won’t fuck it up.

  120

  Jayla

  This is it. The reason I’m here. From the moment the chartered plane hits the tarmac in Texas, through the entire pre-show bustle and concert, to the minute we get everyone safely back on the bus, I don’t have a second to sit. I can hardly breathe, and it’s almost as if I’m holding my breath. We’ve done so much prep work to ensure everyone’s safety, but now it’s go time and the variables are out of my control.

  Despite the nerves that tighten in my chest, everything goes off without a blip or any major issues. One night down. Only twenty-three more to go.

  Relief. It’s clear in every face I meet as we load up and prepare to roll out. The equipment and sound crews follow behind, but Brian, my right-hand man and assistant for this tour, promises to keep me informed and report any issues. The roadies move fast, quicker than the band, and I don’t doubt they’ll hit the road within the hour.