9781488051265

by Reverb (epub)

  “Hey,” she said, once she’d found and answered the phone. “What’s up?”

  “Really hate bothering you two,” Ray said, and she heard the delight in his voice. “But we kinda want to figure out our day, so when can you meet?”

  Right. The stalker. The band. The tour. All of the things they needed to get back to. “Soon, I think. We’re caffeinating.”

  “Is that what kids are calling it these days?” Ray’s New Jersey accent was a little thicker than normal as he spoke. Had she been near him, she’d have playfully shoved him and given him the finger.

  “I’m still older than you, kiddo,” she said. “So get the fuck off my lawn.”

  He laughed. “So, ready in...an hour? Half hour?”

  She lowered the phone. David had his inquisitive look on. “How soon can you be ready to do that meeting thing?”

  He looked away for a moment, his lips twisting in thought. “Getting dressed is easy. It’s getting my brain in gear and looking over those emails again that’ll take a bit.”

  “Hour?”

  “I think we all want to get this out of the way. Half hour. I can shower in my room and get my shit together.”

  She relayed the info to Ray. “Mmm,” he said. “Let’s make it forty-five minutes, to give everyone time. And come to my room.”

  “Sounds to me like someone else isn’t quite ready for a meeting yet,” she teased.

  Ray’s chuckle was soft and devilish. “Something like that.”

  “Okay, kiddo. See you in a few.”

  By the time she’d hung up and relayed the time and meeting place, David had completely dressed and packed away his dicks and his toiletries. All that was left was Marly. She picked up the bear and hugged it, pressing her face into the top of its plush head.

  “I don’t suppose I can get a hug like that, too?” David’s voice was gravelly.

  Heat raked through Mish, and something else—the need for more beyond their sexual chemistry. To know the man this bear belonged to, to build up that friendship. To let herself explore this new relationship.

  What had Zavier said? Friendship, trust, and fucking? They were on their way.

  She pulled David into a hug. Rather than the top of his head, she kissed and nuzzled his hairline, breathing in a scent that was all David. Raw and spicy and human.

  “I wanna spend more time with you.” She whispered the words against his hair.

  “Same, sweetheart. Same.” He pulled back a little. “I still owe you a beer, don’t I?”

  “You do,” she purred. “Maybe after this meeting we can lounge by the pool?”

  He went up on his toes and pecked the tip of her nose. “Deal.” He stepped away. “I should go and get ready.” He’d fallen back into his business voice.

  Mish tightened her fingers around Marly. “Don’t forget your best friend.” She held the bear out for him.

  His smile was so quirky and fond when he looked at Marly, Mish’s legs nearly buckled from the sheer cuteness. And the utter unabashed, pure moment of David. “Why don’t you hold on to him for the day? I have a feeling I’ll be back later.”

  God, she hoped so. “All right.”

  That same fond, unguarded expression fell on her. For such dark eyes, David’s practically glittered when he smiled. “See you in a bit, Mish.”

  He sauntered out of the room, then the suite door opened and clicked shut. Mish pressed her face against the bear again. “I really like your dad, Marly. I trust him. I want him as a friend. Think you can help?”

  Marly, as all plush bears tended to be, was silent. Mish felt connected to David anyway, as if an invisible thread had been wrapped around her and tied off to him. David would keep her safe.

  And for the first time in her life, Mish didn’t resent that.

  * * *

  David found it strange not having Marly in his room when he returned there to shower and dress. But a jolt of excitement ran through him at the thought that Marly was with Mish. Maybe she was holding him. Maybe he was back on her bedside. Didn’t matter that the bear was an inanimate object—he was a piece of David’s heart, one that still clung to the wonder that hadn’t been scrubbed out of his childhood by bigotry and war.

  Marly would watch over Mish and keep her safe when David couldn’t. Because that’s what bears did.

  A foolish thought, most of his mind said. He gave that part a giant mental middle finger.

  As he’d predicted, he was out of the shower and dressed in about fifteen minutes. He took some time to more thoroughly clean the cock they’d used because he hated putting those away without doing so. Once that was complete, he turned his attention to his laptop. He’d been reading most of Adrian’s forwards on his phone, but if he was going to share this stuff, a bigger screen was better.

  He took some time getting reacquainted with the material. It was grueling, especially now that he and Mish had hooked up. All of it felt personal, and that twisted guilt into his chest. The last thing Mish wanted or needed was a man being possessive with her or making her pain about him.

  Wasn’t right. Wasn’t needed. And was why he’d wanted to review the stalker’s communications—so he could rid himself of these toxic reactions.

  He’d been hired to protect the band, to watch over her. Nothing more. That he cared for her didn’t mean he got to own her pain or problems. She’d kick his ass for doing that, and rightly so.

  By the time he reached Ray and Zavier’s suite, he was centered. Focused on business.

  The rest of the band, plus Adrian and Marcella, were spread out in the living room part of the suite. It only took one look at Mish to throw David off-kilter. The visceral memory of her flooded back into him. The way they’d fucked, his own taste in her mouth, the feel of her skin against his lips, their moans in the air.

  Her smile was slow and sexy as if she saw right through him—and maybe she did.

  Luckily, Ray stepped into his line of sight. “Going old school?” He gestured at David’s laptop.

  That was all he needed to recover, to drag his sorry mental ass back to being a goddamned professional. “Figured a bigger screen would be better, you know?”

  “A man after my own heart,” Adrian said. He sat on the couch with Dom, both wearing what David recognized as their casual clothes. For Adrian, that was jeans and an old, worn T-shirt. For Dom, it meant jeans and a button-down that pretty much covered all his ink. He leaned against Adrian.

  Damn, David wanted Mish in his arms like that.

  He shook the thought away. “Where’s the best place to put this?”

  “Coffee table.” That came from Zavier, who was lounging against the door to the bedroom. “But we’ll need to rearrange the furniture, or some of us will have to sit on the floor.”

  Marcella shrugged. “I’m limber enough.”

  David eyed the huge TV. “Damn shame I didn’t think to bring an HDMI cable.”

  “I have one.” Adrian made to rise.

  “Guys!” The strangled quality of Mish’s voice stopped them all in their tracks. “I don’t want my stalker’s emails on a huge fucking monitor. I just want to—read them. Not go over them in detail.”

  David breathed out. “Okay. Yeah. That was...” The only consolation was that everyone in the room sans Mish also looked sheepish. “Why don’t I...give this to you?” He held out the laptop to Mish.

  She took it and placed it on the coffee table. “You and Adrian have seen these, yes?”

  David nodded, his mind still churning in embarrassment.

  “Okay. That leaves Dom, Ray, Zavier, and Marcella.”

  “I’ve seen most of them,” Marcella said. “I can catch up on the rest later.” She wandered over to a table that contained a fruit basket, bottled water, and a carafe, poured herself some coffee, and took a seat there.

  Dom moved to si
t on Mish’s one side. Ray took the other, and Zavier came around to the back of the couch.

  “This okay?” Zavier’s voice was a concerned murmur over Mish’s shoulder. Not feigned, either. David doubted he feigned anything with the band. There was an open honesty about the man despite the sharp control that lay there.

  “Yeah.” A quiet reply from Mish.

  The four of them settled in, and David resisted the urge to pace. He took a seat in one of the very white chairs. Adrian glanced his way, expression mirroring David’s own inner turmoil.

  Mish had seen many of the emails, but not all.

  “Fuck,” murmured Dom at one point. “Is that your...”

  “Yeah. My hair.”

  Silence fell again, except for their breathing. David wanted to drop his head into his hands. Close his eyes against Mish’s hardening expression and the revulsion in both Zavier’s and Dom’s eyes.

  “And my ring,” Mish said.

  Ray was focused but shuttered. Tiny twinges snuck through in the flicker of his eye, a twitch in his cheek, or the way he scowled, but David couldn’t put a finger on the emotion. Wasn’t anger. Or maybe it was far deeper than that.

  After a while, Ray sat back and met David’s gaze, his own grave. “Now I’m even more glad I convinced you to stay.”

  A mix of shame and pride and worry punched into David. His gaze flicked to Mish’s, but she wasn’t looking at him.

  No, her focus was on Ray, and she was pale and a tightness had gathered in her whole body. “And why’s that?”

  Ray shook out his neck. “Not because you can’t take care of yourself, Mish. I met you in a bar that scared the pants off gay old me, and you had the whole place by its ear. Literally and figuratively.”

  That put color back into her cheeks. “Gay young you. You were, what, twenty? And scrawny.”

  He glanced at his hands and smiled—a quick flash of teeth—before that fell away. “David can have your back in ways none of us—” he gestured to the band, Adrian, and Marcella “—can.”

  Finally Mish’s gaze met David’s, and hers was warm and steady. The heat that curled into David’s chest wasn’t lust. It was...he didn’t know. Complicated—that’s what it was.

  The words were out of his mouth before he even thought about saying them. “If you’ll have me.”

  The crinkles at her eyes weren’t from tension now. No, there was a happiness there David didn’t understand. “Yeah. I will.”

  Zavier grunted, and that man’s expression was one of supreme satisfaction.

  Dom was the only one not focused on them. His focus was glued to the screen and he chewed on one of his nails. “This fucker.” His voice was jagged and sharp. He sat back, not looking at anything, but working his jaw.

  “Babe,” Adrian said. “It’ll be all right.”

  Dom closed his eyes. Mish patted his knee. “Sweetheart...”

  He exhaled. “I know. I have no right to be angry.”

  “Yeah, you do,” Mish said, echoing David’s own thoughts. “We’re family.”

  At that, Dom opened his eyes and wrapped Mish in a hug.

  The pang David felt was an intense longing he’d never experienced before. That need to have what these people had. He could hardly breathe for the way that desire tangled into his soul.

  Family. His hadn’t been that bad, just...distant. Especially after his successive coming-outs. He barely talked to his sister anymore. He exchanged emails with his parents a couple of times a year. Most of the folks he’d known in the army had fallen away.

  He was used to being alone. Liked being alone, or so he told himself.

  He shook the feelings away. “This guy isn’t a fan of the group, I’m sure of it now.”

  “Why?” Mish asked.

  “The way he talks in those emails. It’s focused on you and your look. Not on the music, or your playing. Or how you interact with the guys or fans.”

  Dom sat back on the couch. “Huh.” That seemed to be the voice of everyone’s thoughts.

  Zavier straightened. “Then how does he know Mish?”

  That was the thing. “Don’t know.” David paused. “It’s just a theory.”

  Mish stirred. “Like I said before, I don’t think it’s a previous friend or lover. They weren’t...like that. Even the ones who were jerks.”

  “What about from high school or—” Adrian waved a hand “—someone who knew you before you were famous?”

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t look like this in high school.” She gestured at herself. “We moved around a lot. Plus, after my mom passed, I changed my name.”

  David’s world tipped sideways a little. “You changed your name,” he repeated. His former name slid across his consciousness and away. “First and last?” He’d only changed one.

  She nodded. “Mom’s last name was Sullivan. She never married the sorry sack of shit that sired me. I didn’t want his name anymore.”

  In the silence that followed, no one asked her what her name had been and David rejoiced. Her family—the people in this room—understood the power of names.

  It was Marcella who broke the silence. “Here I thought Mish was short for Michelle.”

  Mish grinned. “Nope.” Her smile fell away. “Honestly, I can’t think of anyone from my past.” She dug out her phone. “I keep a photo of my mom and me on here. Hang on.” She scrolled a bit, then handed her phone to Ray.

  He blinked a few times. Zavier leaned over. “Oh. Yeah. I see what you mean,” he said.

  Mish shoved him. “Hey!”

  His smile belied any hurt. “I’m not saying you were ugly. You’re just not you now.”

  Ray handed her phone back, and she passed it to Dom next. He cocked his head, then passed it to Adrian. After that, it went to Marcella, and she brought it to David.

  He didn’t have to look up to know Mish was watching him. He felt her stare from across the coffee table. More than just her, he bet, but Mish’s was the only one that mattered.

  He studied the photo on the screen. He both saw and didn’t see her in the two women in the picture. One woman—had to be her mom—had blond hair with the same curls that Mish bore. Her eyes were darker, though, and her face rounder. Mish was young, maybe sixteen or seventeen, on that cusp between youth and adult. A redhead like now, but cut so short the curls were gone. Green eyes that were shy and set into a face that hadn’t developed the long lines of Mish’s. Her clothing was conservative and she was lanky, not the muscular musician she was as an adult. Only if you knew she was the same person could you pick out the similarities.

  With an entirely different name, how many people would know that this girl and Mish Sullivan were the same?

  He nodded. “You grew up a lot.” He rose, leaned over the table, and handed her phone back. Her fingers brushed his gently. Almost a caress.

  Then she was leaning against the couch again. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “Okay, so it’s unlikely to be someone from the past.” David lowered himself into his chair. “Still doesn’t feel like a fan gone bad, but I suppose there’s no other avenue.”

  Mish rocked her head back and forth. “Or it’s some MRA-type dude who saw my photo and thinks I’d make the perfect wife.”

  “Maybe.” David didn’t think so. There was something to this he couldn’t put his finger on. Gut instincts were so fucking vague.

  “Question is...” Marcella rose and joined the rest of the group. “What can we do about it? What are we going to do about it?”

  That was the issue at hand. The answer was simple, but unsatisfying. “Nothing,” David said. “Block email addresses. Keep logs. Keep an eye on Mish. But that’s pretty much all we can do.”

  Adrian shifted in his chair. “I looked into the credit card connection.”

  Ray shot him a look. “Legally?�
��

  “Yes, of course.” Adrian sounded a little miffed. “Card was that dude’s own, not the mysterious Stan’s. If the thief got cash from that guy, I can’t find out...legally.”

  Ray relaxed a fraction. “Sorry for the assumption.”

  “No illegal hacking, Mr. Doran,” Marcella said.

  “None planned, Ms. Crane.” He grinned. “I really do know better.”

  She snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

  “Stan? Who the fuck is Stan?” Mish looked between David and Adrian.

  “Name the thief gave. Doubt it’s his real name.” David struggled with keeping calm. “I wish I had caught that little shit sooner, before he’d handed it off.” Guilt gnawed at him, especially since he’d missed the handoff. The stalker had been at the concert, too.

  Mish skewed up her face. “Well, Stan rings no bells. I bet you’re right.” She closed David’s laptop. “So you recommend business as usual.”

  He hated that, but there wasn’t any other choice. No way to draw the fucker out. “You were right all those weeks ago. Changing your habits just lets this guy think he has control.”

  She nodded. “But now we all know.”

  Dom fidgeted, picking at invisible lint on his pants. “You gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah, hon. I’ll be fine. I have all of you and I’ve got David there.”

  Zavier rubbed his chin, but said nothing. Which, David had learned over the past weeks, meant the man had something to say, but was unwilling to say it. So he called his bluff. “Zavier?”

  Caught off guard, Zavier started and locked eyes with David, and there was that open expression again. “I was just wondering...at what point we go to the police? Where’s that line?”

  No one in the room said anything in response. Mish stared at the closed laptop, then looked over at David. The pain in those eyes ate right through him.

  “That has to be Mish’s call.”

  “I’ll let you know,” she whispered. “I’m not a fool, Zav.”

  “I know you’re not.” He laid his hand on her shoulder, and she reached up to hold it. “But sometimes we wait too long to confront things. And it’s burned us before.”