“That one’s gonna haunt me, you know?”
Yeah, he did. Colin had been at the hospital a few times checking on her, bringing Justice coffee and sandwiches. “I should have walked her to the car. It haunts me too.”
“We won’t let it happen again. She going on the reunion tour with us? I’ll make damn sure she’s safe.”
“Don’t know. I want her to come, but she’s hell-bent on getting a job and figuring out an internship she needs for school.” Or she was scared. Hiding. Maybe didn’t trust him to protect her.
Can you blame her? No, he couldn’t. She had every right to doubt him, both in his career and his ability to protect her. So right now, he had to prove himself. The first step was to get his ass into the rehearsal.
He heard a group come up behind him. Turning, he raised an eyebrow. “How the hell did I beat you guys here?” Simon, Lynx, Gray and River headed toward him. They were staying in L.A. while Justice commuted from San Diego.
Lynx held up his energy drink. “Needed fuel and Advil. Got a banger of a headache.”
Simon nodded to Colin then glared at their drummer. “Lay off the tequila, and you won’t have headaches.”
“Blow me.” Lynx yanked open the door and vanished inside.
River coughed. “Why don’t they just kill each other and get it over with?”
Justice craned his head toward the bassist. “You look like shit. Thought you were getting that cold taken care of.”
“River thinks playing doctor with a different hookup every night is the cure. Dumbass.” Gray yanked open the door. “You have a sinus infection. Take the damned pills.”
“Do they have pills for paranoid assholes?” River trudged into the studio, and Gray followed.
“Morons,” Simon said. “Gray’s being weirder than usual, River’s sick as a dog and humping like a hound in heat, and Lynx is doing shots with death. Fucking awesome.”
Justice took in Simon’s tight jaw and the whitening around the scar on his cheek. The tension festering in the band had been growing for weeks. “They’ll snap out of it, it’s just stress.”
“And a glaring lack of self-control.” Simon stalked into the room.
“And you have too damned much of it,” Justice muttered as he followed. Inside, the stage dominated the center of the room, surrounded on three sides by seating. Crew members moved around setting up equipment, checking lighting and camera angles. They’d film the practice to get clips to run as promos for the tour.
“Savages!” Wendy yelled. All the Fury Run girls rushed over, engulfing them in hugs and back slaps.
Justice hated that they’d won the Court of Rock title, but he liked the all-chick band. “So how’s it going with Tangent? You guys cutting a record?”
Wendy’s face lit up almost as bright as the tiger-yellow streaks in her hair. “Working on it. The Tangent people are pushy as hell, trying to get us to use songs written by their people on our record. Not happening. We write our own songs.”
“All right, listen up!” Frank, the producer, shouted. “We’ve had a change in the lineup. The band Wrexis had to cancel. The replacement band is—”
“Jagged Sin, motherfuckers! We’re back.” Ace Hollis sauntered into the studio, flinging around his shaggy hair, and reeking attitude. His crew straggled behind.
Next to Justice, Simon jerked then went still. “We’ve been played. Again.”
A throb started behind Justice’s eyes. Before signing, they’d specifically asked if Jagged Sin would be on the tour. Traditionally it was the top-three bands from the current year, with guest appearances of previous winners throughout the tour. However, they’d been told Jagged Sin had been passed over for the fourth-place band. So what changed?
Justice strode up to Frank. “What happened to Wrexis?”
“I don’t know, Cade.”
“Damn it, this isn’t what we agreed to.”
“You know what? I don’t care. Either grow a pair and deal, or walk. But if you do, you pay back the signing bonus.”
Fuck. They were screwed. That signing bonus had gone right into their new record label, S.I. Records. Justice had been looking forward to these three weeks of getting out on stage again, only this time without the pressure of eliminations and bullshit.
His muscles twitched with fury and frustration. While Jagged Sin strutted around, trash-talking and bragging about working on an album, he huddled in a corner with his guys.
For weeks, all five of them had been licking their wounds and trying to salvage their pride. It was time to pull their shit together.
He eyed each of them. Lynx, the man he’d met in Juvie when they’d both been kids. Then River, who’d been in the Fighters to Mentors program for troubled boys with Justice and Lynx. The three of them bonded. Later they found Simon and Gray.
This was his band, his life. “Time to step up and do this. No one gets between us. No one. We’re going on this tour and showing the entire world who’s the best damned rock band. Jagged Sin can go fuck themselves. We’re not playing their game.” He held out his fist. “Savages first.”
Simon, Gray, Lynx and River all bumped knuckles with him. “Savages first.”
They broke up to take their places, when a hand settled on his shoulder. He met the lead guitarist’s intense gaze. “What?”
“Nothing comes between us. That includes girlfriends.” Simon strode to the stage.
Beth.
The night she’d been stabbed, Simon had been right beside Justice, running alongside him to help Liza. Simon didn’t want Liza hurt, but he still thought Justice would have to choose between Liza and the band.
Simon was wrong.
* * *
Liza rolled her head, stretching her neck, and tried to calm her nerves as she walked into SLAM Inc. Why did Sloane Michaels want to meet with her? Justice was in L.A. for a rehearsal for the Court of Rock Summer Tour that was only one week away now. He came home almost every night, but once he was on tour, she’d be alone.
You could go with him. The temptation tugged at her belly. She wanted to be with Justice. Like a groupie?
Now wasn’t the time to debate this. Liza pulled her hair down over her right shoulder. The five-week-old wound had healed to a fresh and angry four-inch scar from the center of the back of her neck to her shoulder. She had some lingering pain, most of which was her muscles healing and should go away. She’d been lucky to escape more serious nerve damage.
But she didn’t want to advertise her scar. Whatever Sloane wanted to talk to her about, Liza was going to face it as a strong woman, not a pathetic victim with an ugly past.
Steeling herself, she headed into the office and blinked. Wow. Sleek and clean, gray walls and gleaming floors.
“Good afternoon, Miss Glasner. Sloane is ready for you,” said a young woman behind a high, curved desk. “You may take the executive elevator up.”
Did the girl recognize her from all the media coverage, or was she expecting her? “Thank you.”
“Of course. I’ve let Sloane know you’re here. His office is the top floor.”
Inside the elevator, Liza smoothed her sleeveless ruffle-front blouse the color of pale sea glass over her pressed flower A-line skirt. Paired with her flat sandals, the outfit gave her confidence.
“You can handle this.” Whatever this was. Her stomach pitched. Sloane and Justice had been friends for years, and she feared he was going to tell Liza she needed to get out of Justice’s life.
The doors slid open, revealing a reception area. Hanging on one pale-gray wall were tall portraits of a brawny fighter she recognized as Sloane. A leather couch and chairs were gathered on a plush rug, and behind that was a hallway dotted with a few doors. A hallway opened up on her left too.
“Hi, I’m Tess.”
Liza focused on the short, heavy woman with deep-brown eyes and an olive complexion rising from a desk and walking toward her. It was hard to judge her age. Maybe forties?
“Liza.” Sloane strode thro
ugh a door. At over six feet, with dark hair and eyes and a powerful build, he dominated the room. “Come into my office.”
She smiled at the woman and followed Sloane into a massive corner office that had a bank of windows overlooking San Diego.
The sound of a door closing rippled up her back, and she spun around.
Sloane lifted an eyebrow. “Would you like it open?”
“No. I’m still a little jumpy.” She’d woken a few nights in sweat-drenched terror, and on one occasion, screaming. Lifting her chin, she added, “But I’m fine.”
“Sit.” He gestured to the sofa and two chairs. “I’ll get right to the point.”
She perched on the couch and squeezed her fingers together. “I’m curious why you asked me to come.” Surprised and confused was probably a better description. Her first instinct had been to call Justice and talk to him, but she’d reined in the impulse. If Sloane was going to tell her she was bad for Justice, she didn’t want her boyfriend stuck in the middle.
Again.
He had enough of that with the band, and more specifically Simon. Liza would handle this situation herself.
“I’d like to offer you a paid internship.”
“Here?” It was so unexpected, she couldn’t think of an intelligent response.
“My current assistant left this morning after an epic meltdown.” He leaned forward. “I don’t have time for dramatics at work.”
Liza’s brain caught up. “Your assistant? So Tess is—”
“My receptionist. I need her here in the office handling the phones, some scheduling and my calendar.”
Still trying to get her head around the prospect of a position at SLAM Inc, she sought clarification. “I see. So you’re offering me a paid internship as your assistant?”
“Yes. You’d be working with me, and with Tess, doing whatever I ask you to. I’m opening MMA gyms around the country, as well as representing fighters and diversifying my brand, and things are moving fast. I need someone who can learn quickly and think on their feet. As part of the requirements for your internship, you’d be working with my marketing and publicity departments, sitting in on all levels of meetings, and see how we construct and control images of our fighters. You’d log the necessary hours required for your degree.”
“You know the requirements?” How’d he get that information?
“I’ve already cleared it with the school. Or rather, I had Tess do it.”
“Well that’s…efficient.” And slightly unsettling to realize he’d been researching her. But at least he wasn’t trying to get her out of Justice’s life.
“In return,” Sloane went on, “I want a guarantee you’ll stay through December. At that point, you’ll graduate, and then we can reevaluate if you’re a good fit here at SLAM Inc.”
All this was a lot to take in, but one question surged to the top. “Why me?”
“I’ve seen the work you did with the band as their publicist—”
“Student publicist, and I need to point out the band lost.” Oh yeah, excellent way to sell herself. She really rocked this whole publicity thing. Liza fought a sigh.
He nodded. “I’m aware. Your work was good, you handled the pressure while juggling the personalities of the band and external pressures of the media storm landing directly on you. That’s the kind of calm I need. And you organized getting Cassie and her mom here to see the band, going the extra mile without being asked. I need that initiative. I’m not a hand-holder type of boss. I need someone who can figure out the job and do it, and if you do it well, there’s room here to grow.”
The opportunity and challenge rushed in, tripping her pulse with excitement. For five weeks, she’d been sitting around feeling like a burden and worrying about her future. Justice never made her feel like a duty, but he was busy building his career. Liza was just…there. Her confidence had wilted. This was a fresh chance to prove herself. “You said this is paid?”
Sloane rose, strode to the desk and returned with a folder. “Here’s a list of your duties, a schedule and pay. Look it over, and let me know your decision tomorrow. If you want this, I’d like you to start next week, a few hours a day until you’re completely recovered. Once your fall quarter in school starts, we’ll adjust your hours. Any questions?”
Probably a million. Standing, she took the folder. “I’ll let you know after I look over the offer.”
After walking to the door, he held it open. “Tess, please show Liza around, including the office she’d use if she accepts the job.”
Liza paused in the doorway. “Thank you, Sloane. This meeting turned out very differently than I imagined.”
“Why’s that?”
“I wondered if you were going to tell me to get out of Justice’s life. He’s-a-star-and-I’ll-be-in-his-way kind of thing.”
His eyebrows went up. “I rarely have time or inclination to get involved in my friends’ personal relationships.” The amusement hardened. “Your personal relationships are your business as long as they don’t interfere with your work. That means you’ll be here on workdays no matter where Justice and his band are.”
Her mouth dried, but she nodded. “Of course.”
By the time she left the SLAM Inc. building, she was almost giddy. The challenge of working as Sloane’s assistant in his growing business thrilled her. This was her chance to prove and redeem herself. To show people, like her aunt, that she was making good decisions and didn’t have to hide in shame.
Once she was in her car, she scanned the job offer, and her determination to accept increased. Excited to tell her boyfriend, she pulled out her phone and texted Justice. I have some news. When will you be home? She started to set the phone in her console. Justice usually answered when he had time.
Her phone buzzed a message from Rock Rooster. Rehearsal is finishing up. I’m leaving soon. What’s your news?
A pang zapped her right in her vulnerable spot. This was why she needed a job, a challenge. Justice was out there practicing to go on a tour, surrounded by other stars and hot girls. And Liza? Even if she traveled with him, she’d be on the outside. She wasn’t even their publicist anymore. She’d end up spending a lot of her time sitting in the hotel room, waiting. So yeah, Liza needed her own life. Focusing on the phone screen, she typed, I’ll tell you about my secret meeting when you get home.
Rock Rooster: What meeting? Where are you, Glasner?
She grinned, unable to keep her good mood at bay. A girl needs a little mystery. Out.
Rock Rooster: OUT WHERE?
She laughed and pushed a little harder. Time for Justice to realize she was healed and healthy. Maybe I’m at the sex store. Or Brazilian wax salon. Or maybe I’m getting a piercing… A girl has needs, you know.
Rock Rooster: Are you saying I’m not fulfilling your needs?
She could almost hear his low, throaty voice, feel the heat burning in his gaze when he said that. An ache settled deep in her belly, and her bra was too confining. She glanced around, feeling a little naughty. She was in the public parking lot of her future employment sending dirty texts to her boyfriend. It’s been almost five weeks of no sex, Cade. Not good for your rock-star image. They kissed and cuddled, but no sex. But if you aren’t interested…
Her phone rang.
“Interested?” Justice growled in her ear. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to jack off while you slept? Holding you close, smelling your skin, feeling you wiggle your ass against my dick, making me so horny I had to slip away into the bathroom?”
“I could have helped. Do you do it in the shower? I like soaping up your dick. Up and down…”
“Beth…” His groan was hot.
“Or maybe you use my lotion? The tropical-peach-scented one? I bet that—”
“You’re torturing me. You know that.” He pulled in a deep breath. “I was waiting until you get the okay from your doctor. You see him next week.”
The edge in his voice told her he was at the end of his patience. “He alrea
dy cleared me for most activities except heavy lifting, so I can’t pick you up in a fireman’s carry to throw you on the bed and have my way with you.” The thought of her tossing Justice around was laughable. “But I might be able to corner you in the shower, get some of that soap—”
“I’m leaving now. It’ll take me a couple hours if I don’t hit traffic.” He paused and added, “Beth?”
Her smile damn near exploded on her face. She’d told him what she needed, and he was doing his best to get his sexy butt home. “What?”
“You’re going to find out just how bad I want you. No, make that need you. No backing out now, Glasner, When I get home, you’re mine.”
* * *
Liza walked in from the backyard where she’d uncovered the barbeque and made sure they had propane. She’d start it just as soon as Justice got home and— “Justice!” Slapping a hand over her chest, she laughed at her surprise. “Way to make an entrance, Cade.”
“Speaking of making an entrance.” His gaze drifted a slow path over her shirt and skirt to her bare feet, then back up. Approval and something dark and needy flared in his eyes. He took a step, then another, crowding her against the back door. “You look beautiful. Very fuckable.”
Her heart shot up her throat. Not in fear, but excitement. “Thanks, that’s…descriptive.” And she loved it. He always told her exactly what he felt, never holding back and making her feel unsure.
His eyes danced. “Can’t handle it, baby? You challenged my rock-star ego, now it’s time to pay up.” He caught her chin. “When I’m done with you, you’ll never doubt how badly I want you again.”
She opened her mouth.
Justice kissed her, his lips covering hers firmly, tongue demanding she surrender. He didn’t let up until she was breathless.
Raising his head, he stroked her jaw and throat. “Take off your shirt. I want to see you.”
Shivers went through her at the throaty demand. “Now?” She glanced around the roomy kitchen with the cracked tile counters and chicken-themed decorations.
Savaged Vows: Savaged Illusions Trilogy Book 2 Page 5