Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five

by Alexa Padgett

  Hayden considered me. He ran his forefinger down his nose, never a good sign. “Thanks for the information. Send me more details. I’ll see what Briar thinks.”

  Fair enough. I sprang that news poorly. “Right. Well, I’ll talk to Jake. He’d probably like the time to jam. If it’s okay to tell him about your Showbox gigs?”

  “I’m always happy to play with Jake.”

  “C’mon, Kevin. Let’s get out of here while Hayden’s still speaking to me.”

  They both laughed, but I wasn’t kidding. Hayden slapped my back and opened the door. “The charity concert is more like what we’re thinking. With the collective, I mean. Be sure to send the information.”

  I nodded. I turned, shook his hand, and left.

  “Go okay?” Kevin asked as we walked down the hall to the elevator.

  “Better than I anticipated.”

  “Good news, then.”

  “Am I a bastard?” I blurted out once we entered the elevator. Kevin took his time, studying me. Sweat pooled on my upper lip and the base of my spine. For some reason, his response mattered to me.

  “No,” he said. “You’re a man who’s made mistakes. Much like all of us, I expect. But you seem to want to fix them.”

  I blew out my pent-up breath. “True enough.”

  We were quiet as the elevator car slid down the last few floors. Kevin was thorough, not letting me cross the lot until he’d checked all the corners, under the car and in the boot. A man I could count on.

  “Do you plan to stay in this business long term?” I asked.

  Kevin shrugged. “If the right job came along, sure. I’d planned to go back to my government work, but one, I’m still healing from my most recent tussle with the bad guys, and two, my wife gave me an ultimatum: either I find a career that doesn’t try to kill me every day, or she walks along with my thirteen-year-old daughter.”

  “Tough break there.” We walked through the lot. Kevin pressed the key fob to unlock the doors.

  “No, more of a reality check. I considered what was most important, and my family won.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He started the ignition before he turned to appraise me again. Much as I wanted to squirm under his appraisal, I didn’t. I met his gaze and waited.

  “I’m staying here, in Seattle. So I can be around while my daughter grows up.”

  I nodded, absorbing the information. Kevin put his family first, the exact opposite of what I’d done when Mila walked away from me. In fact, I’d been acting like a toddler who’d lost his favorite toy since that moment, having an extended tantrum.

  Time to man up. Not just to my feelings for her but to my responsibilities—and the ones I wanted. Taking care of my mum, Jake, and Mila were priority one. Telling Mila I still loved her might not get the response I wanted, but she deserved to know I wanted her in my life. She needed to know that’s where I’d always wanted us to end up.

  Kevin called ahead, letting the guards in the lobby know we were almost back to the hotel. He pulled into the garage still waiting to hear from them. The next second our windshield shattered.

  “Stay down.” Kevin shoved me farther into the seat as another bullet slammed into the windshield. “We’re under fire. Basement level one,” he said, voice calm as he spoke into his phone. I didn’t know who he was talking to, and I really didn’t care. My only concern was getting to Mila.

  Cradling it against his shoulder, he slammed on the gas and sped forward. No way he could see. He dropped the phone on the console, pulled out his gun and twisted the wheel hard. With his other hand, he pulled off three or four rounds in rapid succession, the bullets shattering through what was left of the glass in the window. The entire car shook, the concussion from the gun echoed with a teeth-rattling boom.

  Kevin slammed on the brakes, peering through a tiny clear space in the glass.

  “Shouldn’t we get out?” I yelled over the ringing in my ears. Bloody hell, Kevin’s shots from inside the car caused my ears to nearly bleed. If Jordan had gotten to Mila . . . my hand was on the door handle.

  “He’ll pick you off much faster from outside the car. Gas tank’s in back, protected by the cars behind us. We’re safer here.” Kevin picked up his phone. “He’s moved to the northeast corner of the garage. Murphy’s safe. Any word on Mila?”

  “We have one down in the pool area.”

  I didn’t wait for more than that. I bolted from the car, darting between the vehicles toward the stairwell.

  One down. What did that mean? Mila. I wasn’t losing her. Not again. Bullets pinged off the cars, glass shattered right in front of me. Kevin bellowed. I kept running.

  19

  Mila

  Stepping out of my bedroom fifteen minutes after I’d bolted from Murphy, I stopped short, shocked to see Lew and Hank lounging on the couches, watching something on the large flat screen television.

  “Where’s Murphy?” I asked.

  “Out. We’ll take you down to the pool.” Hank held out his hand and took my bag.

  Okay, then. I rode the elevator down between the two burly men in suits, wishing I hadn’t made such a big deal about swimming. I didn’t want to go any more. I waited to enter the pool area with Lew, who stood nearby.

  Hank motioned us in, and Lew followed me. After arranging my bag and towel, I took out my goggles and slid them on. I stripped out of my cover up, painfully aware of Hank’s eyes on my skin outside the sleek black one-piece made for surfing or swimming laps. Since the accident, I exposed as little of myself as possible.

  Diving into the pool, I wished the water here was more like the ocean where I could hide in the waves and churning surf. Two more turns and I was in my zone, my arms starting to burn with that delicious tiring of well-used muscles. Another few laps; this time I turned and flipped onto my back.

  Something rippled near me in the water. Too big to be a bug. Another ripple on the other side, closer this time. I could feel the heat coming off it.

  What in the world . . . I stopped mid-stroke as a disturbance caught my eye. I stopped swimming, popping upward to tread water. Lew held his gun out, eyes focused on the closing door to the pool area. Hank sat on one of the loungers, his gun still holstered, his skin chalky even through my goggles. He hunched over, his bum barely on the seat. Lew strode back and forth in front of him, talking on the phone.

  I kicked back to the edge of the pool and hauled myself out. Grabbing my towel, I slung it around my body.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Hank was pale and he swayed on the bench. His once-pristine shirt slicked with something dark. “You’re bleeding.” I pressed the towel to the center saturation point. “Not arterial,” I muttered. “Good.”

  Hank hissed, pulling his arm tighter to his chest. “It’s not bad. Grazed my ribs.”

  “Stay still,” I said. “I don’t know if the bullet’s still in.”

  “Passed through,” Hank gritted.

  I raised my gaze to Lew, but he continued to sweep the area, gun still drawn. “We need to get you out of here. But I don’t want to move you until I know the property’s secure.”

  “You didn’t hear us calling,” Hank muttered. “He shot into the pool, too.”

  Everything in me stilled. No. Security crawled all over this place along with cameras and extra police. No way Jordan just walked into the hotel, pretty as you please. I collapsed onto the bench next to Hank, my legs shaking too much to hold me up. “Jordan was here? In the hotel?”

  “He was here,” Hank said. He groaned softly. “On the pool deck. Dressed in maintenance attire.”

  Murphy slammed into the room, only stopping when he gripped my shoulders, hands sliding down my arms as his eyes tracked their movement. “Why is there blood on your hands? Where are you hurt?”

  “I-I’m not,” I said. “It’s Hank’s. Wh-what happened?” My teeth chattered. Shock. I was sliding into shock.

  “Jordan’s gone,” Kevin said, stepping forward. “
Through the underground garage.”

  “Where you were?” I asked, gripping Murphy’s shirt in response. I gasped, taking in the bits of glass on his hair. “Oh, God. Call another ambulance! We need to get you to the hospital,” I said.

  “I’m fine, but Jordan did take some shots at me.”

  I fell into Murphy’s arms, clutching him tight even as my mind whirred with scenarios.

  “A gun. He’s never used a gun before.” My teeth chattered harder and I shivered.

  “Cold?” Murphy asked, voice soft.

  I nodded. “Mostly scared.”

  “Come on. We’ll go upstairs. You can have a shower.”

  “But Hank—”

  “Needs to go to the hospital,” Lew said smoothly. “The wound isn’t life-threatening. Kevin will accompany you upstairs and stay in the room while I take care of this down here.”

  I opened my mouth to argue but I was too scared, felt too exposed. I wanted to check Murphy over, see with my own eyes he was in one piece. When Murphy pulled me up, I stumbled, my vision hazing toward black. Murphy wrapped an arm around my waist and without any thought, I burrowed in closer, finding my spot.

  He exhaled hard, pulling me even tighter against him so that I felt the fine tremors wreaking havoc with his body. He dropped a kiss to my forehead, an unconscious gesture, sweeter for its thoughtless response. “You have to stop scaring me,” he muttered as he walked forward.

  “Believe me, I want to.”

  Kevin, gun in hand, stepped out in front of us. Seeing the weapon caused me to shake even harder. Murphy tightened his grip and we clung to each other, our forward progress hindered by my inability to peel my arms from Murphy’s waist.

  Two other guards flanked us. My hair dripped water all over the carpet, and I shivered in my wet suit. We took the stairs up, not waiting for the elevator. My lungs were laboring by the time we got to the top.

  “We lost him again,” Kevin said, scowling at Murphy, his frustration palpable. “If you’d waited another minute before jumping from the car, I might have been able to corner him.”

  Murphy scowled back at his guard. His fingers tensed at my waist. “I had to know Mila was safe.”

  Kevin turned toward me. “He didn’t wait to hear any more. He just leapt from the car and started running. I covered him up the stairwell.”

  Tremors ripped through Murphy and his fingers dug into my skin. Murphy had always been impulsive—too much so, clearly. “I shouldn’t have left you. I can’t . . . Mila, you have to stay safe.”

  I let him wrap me in a hug as my eyes met Kevin’s exasperated ones. He shook his head, irritation oozing off him. But he smiled at Murphy’s arms around me.

  I couldn’t see Murphy’s face because it was buried in my dripping hair. He cared about me. I sucked on my lip as I considered both his words and his raspy tone. To test my theory, I rested my wet head against his chest and brought my hand up to his abdomen. His muscles clenched and he hissed. I set my hand lower, nearer the button on his jean. The fear, the frustration, the anger . . . Murphy could help me forget all those emotions. Just let me feel again.

  “You need to stop.”

  I started to pull back, my cheeks flaming at the thoughts of what must be going through Kevin’s mind but the guard wasn’t paying attention to Murphy’s softly spoken words. He was on his phone and after a few intent moments, he said, “Got it.”

  “Staff security and Lance from our team walked the suite. Everything’s secure,” Kevin said. He opened the door to the suite and I clutched tighter at Murphy, practically dragging him into my room. I shut the door behind us, locking it.

  “What’s wrong, Mil?”

  “I shouldn’t have gone to the pool,” I said. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier, for insisting on going down there.”

  “It’s the lack of pills, too.” Murphy stepped back. His eyes drifting up and down my exposed skin. He paused and I tensed. His callused fingers reached forward, touching the large, ragged scar on my shoulder.

  “This is from the accident?”

  “They grafted skin from my calf up there. I was pretty banged up.” I pulled down the strap of my suit so he could see the full extent of its ugliness—the raised, bumpy skin ran from my shoulder to the top of my breast and down part of my side. So he could see how broken Jordan left me. Jumping out of that car proved once again Murphy wasn’t taking this situation as seriously as he needed to.

  “I can’t believe he did that to you. No wonder . . .” Murphy pulled me close and kissed the scar, a soft brush of his lips. “This is where you landed? After you fell off the pushy.”

  I nodded. Murphy pulled me closer, resting his head on my chest. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what you went through.”

  I slid my fingers through his hair, loving the way he felt pressed against me. He was gentle as he touched each one, learning the new, ugly parts of me now as he accepted these less-perfect additions.

  He kissed the scar again and my blood heated. I wanted him. With the way my life was going, I might be shot or stabbed at any moment. Better to take this opportunity. I might not get another.

  I sifted my fingers through his hair again before moving my fingers down over his eyebrow. I traced his eyebrow ring.

  “I would’ve thought you’d get rid of that.”

  “Reminded me of good times.” He sighed, his warm breath washing over my sensitive nipples. “I missed you, but thinking about you hurt near as much as the missing. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes. I understand. I kept mine, too. I just moved it.”

  “What do you mean.”

  I took a deep breath and stepped out of his arms. He’d seen the worst of my scars, but that didn’t mean the rest of me would measure up to the sculpted, perfect bodies of his more recent bed partners. Still, I started this and Murphy’s intense gaze told me he wanted me to continue.

  I slipped off the other strap and pulled down. My breasts sprang free and Murphy murmured a sound of pleasure. I wiggled the suit lower, loving his low moan, and my breasts jiggled. I left the suit bunched low on my hips, not quite having the courage to strip nude in front of him. I sucked in my stomach and stood tall. My hand just above my belly button.

  “I wanted to share you. With Kyle. So I pierced my belly button. That’s the ring you bought me.”

  Murphy swallowed, his throat working as he struggled to contain some emotion. I sucked on my lip. The silence built as he stared. His hands fisted on his thighs, and I shivered as the air conditioning kicked on, blowing its frigid air over my exposed skin.

  “Are you mad?”

  In one motion, his arms were wrapped tight around me, his mouth pressed against my navel ring. “Thank you for including me.”

  I stroked his head again, loving the feel of his silky hair in my hand. “I always planned on you being part of his life, Murphy.”

  “I would have, Mil.” He rained kisses on my abdomen, rubbing his scruffy beard against the sensitive skin. I sucked in a breath as my stomach and sex clenched. He placed a kiss at the dip toward my hip, and I whimpered. His eyes lit as he slid his whiskered cheek across my belly to kiss the other side. I gripped his forearms, shifting closer so my thigh straddled his.

  He dipped his tongue into my belly button. His hands wrapped around below my bum to grip the back of my thighs. I arched into him, my skin thrumming as he played me. My thighs and bum clenched as he tightened his hold. He remembered. That spot always drove me wild.

  But I knew his secrets, too. I leaned back a little further and pressed my palm against his abdomen, just above his jeans. I rubbed my hand back and forth as he pressed into my hand, wanting me to lower it, his breathing turning ragged.

  “You always did like to deal with big emotions this way,” I murmured. I pulled my hand back.

  “That feels amazing, Mila. Don’t stop.”

  “Is this how you dealt with the stress and frustrations? By screwing some woman?”

  He ignored m
e, but I wasn’t sure why. Because I was right? Because he was so wild with lust for me? I tensed, needing space. But he slid his cheek up, over my ribs to the underside of my breasts where he pressed hundreds of tiny kisses, moving toward the shadow between them. I couldn’t help running my fingers through his hair as I arched closer. My hands trailed down the back of his neck and over his shoulders, still covered in his t-shirt.

  “Like that, do you?” he asked. His voice always edged lower with desire, and the gravelly tone of his speech pumped up my need. It had always been like this—as his desire built, it fed mine, and we spiraled upward into a conflagration only mating could satiate. “I might just die if I don’t get us both naked and I get to drive into your warm, wet heaven.”

  His words doused my desire. I didn’t want to be another of Murphy’s conquests. I hated thinking of myself as one of the hoards. Sure, we’d talked about our former lovers when we’d been together before, and his list was more extensive than mine then. But now it felt like we were comparing a simple script to a full-fledged health workup.

  “I can’t!” I cried, covering my face with my hands. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be a tease, but I can’t do it.”

  The idea of being nothing more than another cheap screw in Murphy’s dissertation of sexing up the ladies . . . that broke me.

  “Hush, love.” Murphy crooned.

  I shook my head, adamant, shoving his shoulders to put more space between us. “I can’t be on that list. You don’t even care about those women.”

  He cupped my cheeks, forcing me to stare into his gray eyes. “You’re not, Mila. You’ve never been a fuck buddy.”

  I choked, the giggles making my crying seem even more hysterical. “You’re right. But only because I haven’t fucked you yet.”