Resisting Velocity

by Trinity Evans; Xoe Xanders

  Screams and slow motion movement seemed to echo everywhere. Charlie lay on the ground, Zane’s body on top of hers, and just focused on breathing. She had been trained in life and death situations, yet when her own life—when Zane’s life—had just received the ultimate of threats, she was frozen to the ground like a scared child.

  Adrenaline sang through her veins, beating a staccato tempo as it slowly pushed away the fog cloaking her mind. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was probably only a few moments at most, her eyes focused on Zane’s face and she reached a hand up to cup his cheek.

  She really just needed a minute to reassure herself that he was okay, that he’d be around for her to fight with for another day. Taking a deep breath, Charlie broke the eye contact and glanced around to see if she could spot Conner.

  The scene around her seemed a cruel wasteland. Panic was etched into features, people were running blind, and the sound of helpless screams and whimpers filled the air. Some, like Zane and herself, had chosen to duck and cover while a countless mass had fled for their lives.

  And someone had been hit. The tang of blood, of death, was suffocating. The whim of some idiot with a gun had led to not only to a death of a man, but birthed a new fear that would probably haunt Charlie for the rest of her life. Especially if whoever caused this mess was never found. Who could be so stupid as to risk the lives of so many people, to take the final breath from one unlucky soul?

  Rising shakily up onto her knees and dragging Zane with her, she kept her body tucked close to his and forced herself to speak, even when her voice sounded tiny and unfamiliar. “Are you all right?”

  “Been better.”

  “No shit.”

  “Yeah, no shit.”

  “Stay here with the guys. I need to talk to Conner, see exactly where security is going to start moving people. They’re going to have to get the police here, fast.” She glanced sidelong at the body on the ground, the face vaguely familiar behind a bloodless mask.

  She locked her eyes with Zane’s, staring up at him before cupping his face yet again and giving him a soft kiss, full of relief and affection. A new development in their relationship, brought on by fear and sealed by that same relief, had Charlie feeling even fuzzier around the edges than before.

  Now wasn’t the time to fight with him. With a smile that felt forced, she stayed half-bent over and made a dash towards the other side, where she’d last spotted Conner.

  “What in the name of all that is holy is going on around here?” The words that she barked had the head of security jerking in surprise and spinning around to face her. “We’ve upped the fucking security to the ceiling and as Zane’s leaving the stage, someone takes a shot? Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’ve got something seriously wrong here and the rampage of violence is escalating—quickly.”

  She knew she sounded like a shrew harassing a child over bad behavior, but near-death and murder had put a nasty taste in her mouth. Being wound as tightly as she’d ever been before certainly didn’t help things any.

  “I don’t understand how this could’ve happened, Charlie. Everyone had just done their usual rounds; they’d given me the green light to let the fans leave, and wham. Whoever did this was good.”

  “How much money do the security guards make?” She knew, of course, but she was irritable.

  “Er—”

  “It needs to be cut in half. This is ridiculous! A bomb, vandalism, Zane being jumped, and now someone’s dead. I know you’re doing what you can, but it feels like an endless circle of failure.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say…” Conner shook his head, rubbed his forehead. “If you want me to step down, I will. But I’ve done this job exactly as you trained me to do. What else can I do? Tell me that and I’ll gladly do it.”

  She took a deep breath, much needed and fairly helpful. “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re doing everything right and honestly, I’d be less useful if I was in your position right now. I’m so far up Zane’s ass that I can hardly see straight and while I’m doing a pretty bang-up job of taking care of him, I don’t have the focus that’s needed for this disaster. The problem is, what happens now? I’m feeling lost.”

  “I don’t know if High Velocity should finish the tour. Someone’s out for blood. It’s just not safe.”

  Charlie’s heart dropped, but she’d thought the same thing the minute the adrenaline in her system had began to flow freely. The guys were likely to rebel, to flip off danger and keep rocking on, but someone had died. She didn’t even know what to think. What if it had been Zane that bullet had taken out? Zane lying there in that man’s spot, his clothes and skin soaked with blood? The thought sent chills down her spine.

  “You’re probably right. We’re all going to have to sit down and talk, but until then, the next show is most definitely postponed. And now we have a funeral on our hands and who knows how much money they’ll end up spending to make sure it’s done properly.” She paused. “Who was the victim?”

  “I didn’t know him personally. Jeremy Meyer. He was part of the lighting crew and the way the rest of them reacted, it was someone that they respected. Maybe a supervisor? I don’t know.”

  “Wolf?”

  “No, human. I’m ashamed to say that I’m thankful for that. Last thing we need is for Meyer’s pack to be popping up, pissed off and ready to start a feud. It’s bad enough that if this gets out into the media, Elysium will get involved and I can see Zane bitching about that one, whether his life is being threatened or not. I could definitely do without that.”

  Charlie tapped her fingers on her leg. “What’s on the agenda now?”

  “As we speak, the PD is on their way to do their thing and make everything official. We’ll have some questioning from the detectives, then we get out of their way to let them do their jobs. I’m sure our lighting crew guy wasn’t the true target that our mysterious gunman intended. This was about High Velocity, I can nearly smell it.”

  “Agreed. Have you decided who’s bunking where?”

  “Zane has the biggest trailer. I’m demanding the guys stick together on a twenty-four hour lockdown. After that, I’ll have to talk to them, but I’m hoping for my sanity and their lives, they’ll agree to share a trailer for awhile.”

  “Ah-haha. Good luck with that. What about the up and coming full moon?”

  He sighed. “They’re going to have to change in the trailer just to let their beasts have a little freedom. I’d rather not have them out and about like clay pigeons for whoever this whack-a-doodle is.”

  “Okay.”

  “So did I pass your test?” Conner’s lip quirked.

  “Sorry, bad habit, and yes. I trained you to be just like me—only you don’t find the boys appealing in any way, shape, or form, so they get away with even less when it comes to you.”

  “Oh, c’mon now. I wouldn’t say that I don’t find them totally unappealing.”

  “Wait, what?”

  He flashed an entirely too-wolfish grin. “Hey honey, they sign my paychecks. I get all warm and tingly every other Friday for just a few moments and it’s all because of them.”

  Fighting a laugh and losing in the end, Charlie shook her head at him. “You’re ridiculous, you know that? With all this shit going on, you’re still able to crack a joke. But you’re right, I’m pretty fond of getting a paycheck and I’m sure plenty agree. I’d like to stay for a little bit and make sure everything goes smoothly with the police. They can be major douche bags when they’re feeling out someone new.”

  “You mean me?”

  “I sure as shit wasn’t talking about me. I won’t overstep, though. But if you’d like to take on the fuzz by yourself, I’m sure I can find other things to do.”

  “Nah, I could use the help if you don’t mind.”

  The all too familiar red and blue lights swirled in the distance and those lights were preceded by the wail of sirens. “Speak of the devil,” Charlie murmured, her wolf growling as t
he sirens grew louder. “I’ll head down and get them through this madness. Could I get you to send the guys to their room?”

  “Damn it, why do I get all the crap jobs? You know they’re going to throw a fit.”

  “Worst comes to worst, tell them Charlie said to shut it and get their asses where I want them.”

  “Jeez, you’re worse than my mom.”

  With a chuckle, Charlie jogged offstage and wound through the masses, sobering as she went. The fun and games were over—it was time to catch a killer.

  ***

  Zane watched Charlie hurry to Conner’s side, his stomach clenching with unease. He lifted a hand to rub his throbbing temples, but the crack of the gun still echoed in his head like a ricochet. The scene played over and over in his mind: The bullet whizzing past them, only to land with a thud in the chest of a man who probably hadn’t done a damn thing wrong besides being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  This was the last time he trusted Micah to “mix it up a little”—they’d just sunk themselves into a hole six feet deep. They’d killed a man. Sure, it was unintentional, but it was the cold hard truth and it burned Zane’s chest like a bad case of heartburn.

  Shaking his head, he turned to spy Benji pacing a little ways off. His dark hair fell into his face, shielding his eyes from view, and his bass was still clenched in his grasp, as if he were afraid to let it out of his sight. Micah and Parker were off a little farther, their heads bent together.

  When Zane drew closer, he noted the way Benji’s shoulders trembled, even just slightly, and the hand gripping the neck of his bass was white-knuckled. “Hey, man. You okay?” He reached out and gently squeezed the other man’s shoulder, hoping to give him the reassurance he knew the wolf would want.

  Benji seemed to jerk back to reality, his eyes widening as they zeroed in on Zane. He slowly nodded, then said, “I’m fine, but what about you? Are you okay?” He pursed his lips together. “You could’ve died, Zane. Who could want you dead? Do you have any enemies?”

  Zane’s smile slid away. “I don’t know, Benj.”

  “This isn’t how I ever expected our Kiss and Tell tour to go. I just can’t believe this is happening…”

  In that moment, guilt bombarded Zane. Benji was an innocent little insect caught up in their spider’s web of lies. He forced a short breath. “Go sit down, get a drink. Conner and Charlie will figure out who did this.” It was the only thing he could think to say. When Benji wandered off, Zane headed over to join Parker and Micah, who were getting a good look at the corpse before the cops arrived and it was covered up.

  Zane looked down at the bloodless body of Jeremy Meyer and got a sick feeling at the pit of his gut. “Shit…” Did his guys really do this? Could Micah have killed a man?

  “You okay?” Micah’s voice was low, gravelly, and Zane tipped his head up to look at him. He tried to see Micah as a murderer, tried to open his mind to the possibility. Micah looked shaken, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Christ. Jeremy’s dead,” he said softly. “It could’ve been you, Zane. That could be you.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the body, then ran both hands through his short-cropped hair and over his head as he slowly backed away. “This isn’t a game anymore…”

  Before Zane could ask him what he meant, Micah spun on his heel and walked away, towards Benji. Parker stood there in silence, peering down at Jeremy’s face. He shook his head. “I feel a little guilty now.”

  Unease prickled down his arms. Had Parker killed him? Was that a confession? Trying to keep his tone light, Zane asked, “Why?”

  Parker laughed, bitterness in the harsh sound. “I stole two of his girlfriends once. Sure, the first one wasn’t really my fault, but I still feel bad. We played a few hands of poker, but Jeremy was a cheating bastard. He stole my car, so I stole his women.” He sighed. “Too late now. Sorry, pal. Rest in peace.”

  A familiar whistle had both their heads popping up. Conner was jogging their way. Zane and Parker gathered with Benji and Micah as the man started barking orders. “All right then. Until we figure out what exactly is going on, I need you guys to go to Zane’s trailer and stay put until someone comes to release you.” He held up a hand, as if expecting them to argue. “No ifs, ands, or buts. Your lives are quite possibly in danger and it’s up to me to keep you safe. I’m doing this with your best interests in mind.”

  Zane narrowed his eyes, waiting for Parker to smart something off about not getting to party, but it never came. One by one, the boys agreed to Conner’s plan, their expressions solemn even when Zane’s beast was ready to come unglued at the situation. So he spun on Conner himself. “Where’s Charlie?”

  “She’s out handling the field.”

  He scowled. “I’m not going anywhere until I’m sure that she’s safe. Keep in mind, that damned bullet went right past both of our heads. Could’ve been either one of us dead as a doornail on the ground over there. Where I go, she comes with.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell her that when I see her.”

  Feeling something inside of him threatening to snap, Zane took a step forward, ready to give the man a piece of his mind, big burly security guard or not, but Micah’s hand on his shoulder wrenched him back around.

  “Drop it. She’ll come back for you, so pull your panties from their twist and man up.”

  Zane bit back his retort and nodded stiffly and Conner’s posture relaxed. “Come on, then. I’ll escort you.” As they neared the line of trailers, Zane broke off from the group and stormed up the stairs, unlocking the door and shoving inside.

  He grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped the tab, taking a long drag. With each moment that passed, his ire rose and he wasn’t even exactly sure why beyond the fact that his life had flashed before his very eyes. That he could’ve lost Charlie. Yeah, that was the real kick in the groin.

  The guys shuffled in single file and Zane locked the door behind them. They stood watching each other in an uneasy silence, none of them sure what to say, but Zane was just biding his time until he was sure Conner was out of earshot. Then he exploded.

  “What the hell were you thinking? A gun, Micah? Is that how you “mix it up”? You could’ve killed Charlie—hell, you could’ve killed me!”

  “What the fuck, Zane? Are you psychotic?” Parker asked, incredulous.

  “A man is dead,” Micah snarled, the first outward sign of aggression from the other wolf. Usually it was Parker pulling his chain, but somehow coming from Micah, who rarely showed a temper, it was worse. Zane lurched forward, fisting a handful of Micah’s shirt and dragging him closer, growls roaring from both their throats.

  “Christ, man! Micah didn’t shoot him!”

  “I didn’t fucking touch a gun. I set up the bomb, just like you asked, but I didn’t detonate—and I didn’t kill that man. Why the hell would you even think that way? I thought you’d have more respect for me than that.”

  Zane spun away, his mind spinning and locking up as he tried desperately to regain composure. “Well if you didn’t do it, who did?” He turned back around. “Parker?”

  “Fuck you, Alexander. I might be a prick, but I’m no murderer. Where’s the gun now? If I killed Jeremy, where’d I stash the heat?”

  Parker and Micah stood side by side, their wolves buzzing beneath their skin, the air thick with the scent of wild and musk. Zane struggled to breathe. Just breathe. Panic surged forward, raw and powerful. If they didn’t do it…who did? “God damnit.”

  Micah stepped up, his temper reigned back in until his expression was empty, hollow. “I told you your plan was insane. Congrats, it worked—you got the girl—but let’s see how much she loves you when she finds out the truth. Huh, Alexander?” He pointed and Zane followed his finger to Benji, who stood there gaping at them, soaking it all in.

  “Shit.”

  “What plan?” Benji was tentative.

  “Drop it, Benj,” Zane said quietly. “Just keep your mouth shut.”

  “Bull-fucking-shit! You
just accused your two best friends of killing a man? And you expect me to stay quiet? What the hell is going on? What plan?”

  “Go ahead, Z,” came Micah’s soft mock. “Tell him the truth.”

  “Don’t put yourself on a fucking pedestal. You’re just as guilty as I am,” Zane snapped back. He threw back his beer and chugged it, then crushed the can in his hands to release an ounce of fury and fear. Guilt swam through him. You deserve this. You knew it would happen, yet you did it anyway. He squeezed his eyes shut. “So I might’ve planned the whole stalker thing.”

  “What?”

  “The bomb at the concert, the threat on my trailer. I had Micah and Parker do that to make it seem like I really needed a bodyguard. Together we planned a mugging, except Parker actually got in a few hits.”

  “To make it look real,” Parker added, looking away.

  Zane swallowed back the sour taste in his mouth. “Damn it, I just wanted her to stay, to give me a chance until the end of the tour and let me show her how I really felt. It wasn’t supposed to end this way…”

  “So you fucked with her emotions too?” Benji’s voice was hard, his eyes cold.

  “No! What we have is real—don’t look at me like that! I love Charlie. I was just about to tell her that, tell her everything, and someone tried to take a cheap shot. Jeremy’s dead.” He sagged against the wall and looked right at Micah. “Swear to me that you didn’t do it.”

  Micah softened. “I didn’t. You know that.”

  “Parker?”

  “I’m guilty of girlfriend-thieving, not murder.”

  Zane swung his gaze to Benji and saw the distrust and the anger playing across his friend’s face. He took a wary step forward. “Please, Benji, don’t say anything. I’m trying to figure out how to tell her, how to make it right, and—”

  “You’ll never make this right, Zane,” Benji said.

  He wanted to reach out and grab him, jerk him back around; he wanted to beg and plead and if that didn’t work, tie him up and stuff him in a closet with duct tape wrapped around his loud mouth.

  He let out a bark of hysteria-laced laughter. That was it. Zane Alexander had finally cracked.