With Vengeance

by Brooklyn Ann

  “Kinda. Some women would only date me because I’m the bassist of Bleeding Vengeance, though it’s not as glamorous a concept as being with Cliff, who is the face of the band. They made me feel like a consolation prize. And I knew you liked Cliff.”

  Kat’s stomach churned. Oh God, he’d been maintaining Metalness since its creation. He’d definitely seen all her posts squealing about Cliff. No wonder he was insecure.

  “I got over that the instant I met him,” she pointed out.

  Palpable relief filled Klem’s eyes. “I also wanted to know if you felt the same connection to me during our tech calls as I did with you. I…I’d never felt like that with a client, and I know it isn’t ethical, but there was something about you.”

  She took his hand again. “You have no idea how many times I was tempted to ask where you lived and if you were single.” Reaching out, she took his other hand and squeezed. “I love you, Klement, as a hot bass player, a sexy IT Guy, and the kindest, most intelligent man I’ve ever known.”

  Klement squeezed her hands back and gave her a heart-melting smile.

  The silence stretched long and taut as Kat waited for him to say the same thing back. His eyes seemed to say it, and he stood and leaned over the table to kiss her. She blinked in surprise, as it was the first time he’d kissed her in public.

  His lips dragged away, and he sat back down. “I can’t believe you’re taking this so well.”

  Kat’s heart wailed. He didn’t say it back! Her mind tamped down the voice. We haven’t known each other that long. So Kat took a shaky breath. “Where do we go from here?”

  “I don’t know.” Klement was back to fidgeting. “I make a terrible boyfriend.”

  She couldn’t help but gape at him in astonishment. “For not being one, you’ve been the best I’ve ever had.” He’d been there and done everything for her.

  His eyes widened, and he looked genuinely surprised. “Really?” He picked up his napkin and twisted it as he stared at her. “I guess we can take it one day at a time.”

  The solemn tone evaporated as he gave her a tremulous smile. “We can start by ordering dinner. I’m starving.” With a low, seductive voice he added, “Then, afterward, maybe we can get a room for dessert.”

  Heat unfurled in Kat’s belly and lower. She cast him a flirtatious look. “I could get on board with that.”

  The server came, and they ordered their dinners. Kat’s stomach growled when the plate of broiled salmon was set before her. With all of her anxiety about their confrontation, she’d been unable to eat since he’d called.

  As if to chase off the tension of their talk, Klement seemed to pretend that it hadn’t happened and acted like they were on a normal date, wooing her with funny stories about how he’d first gotten into computers.

  “My first job was webmaster for a site that made custom ladies’ underwear. They allegedly promoted feminism, though I never understood how. Then I had a stint in monitoring the toilets in the giant trucks of a mining company. That was the shit.”

  “Why do you have so many jobs, anyway?” she dared to ask.

  Klement shrugged. “At first it was because I was bored when I had nothing else to do. My sisters had each other to play with but didn’t include me much. After awhile, I think I just kept trying different things to impress my parents. Like, if I could get good with cars, maybe my dad and I could spend time in the garage. Or if I got good with music, my parents would come to the school band concerts. Or maybe if I learned the computer programs they used, I could help them with their business. None of that worked. They never cared, no matter what I did. Even becoming famous didn’t register more than a blip on their radar. Dad thinks music is frivolous. They don’t even bother calling me now.” He laughed, short and bitter. “But I still seem to be at it, trying to prove myself to them. As you can see, I’m kind of a piece of work.”

  Kat reached across the table and took his hand, fighting back tears for his tangible pain. “I think you’re wonderful.”

  “Thank you.” Something like hope flashed in his eyes before he squeezed her hand and changed the subject. “And then there was the time when I worked at a phone sex place…”

  By the time the server carried off their plates and delivered the check, Kat’s stomach hurt from both laughter and a filling meal. Klement took her hand and led her from the restaurant, escorting her up the elevator and to a luxurious suite with its own hot tub.

  “The bed is smaller than yours,” Kat giggled.

  Klement’s arms wrapped around her, reaching for the zipper on the back of her dress. “I think we can still make it work.”

  Indeed he could. In the hot tub and in the bed.

  As she drifted off to sleep cradled in his arms, Kat felt loved even if he hadn’t said the words. But why wouldn’t he say them?

  Kat chased off the worry. One day at a time, he’d told her.

  It seemed he was serious about trying out a relationship with her because, after he kissed her awake in the morning, he suggested they take his car back to the house, which meant the guys would see them returning together. He told her, “I’ll pay to have yours parked here for the day, and we can just get it after we’re done in the studio.”

  They didn’t have any bags to pack, so in minutes they were in Klement’s sleek black 1960 Plymouth Fury, roaring up the road to Dark Score. Kat wondered if he’d wanted to spend more time alone with her, or if he was just having her ride in his fancy classic car to be more like a boyfriend. Maybe it was a bit of both.

  As they walked in Klement’s front door still dressed in their disheveled finery from the night before, Cliff and Rod looked up from their breakfasts. The pair’s eyes got big, as it was obvious that Klement and Kat had spent the night together.

  “Hey!” Cliff pinned Klement with an accusatory glare. “What the hell happened to ‘she’s a colleague, not a groupie, and should be treated as such’ and yada-yada-yada?”

  Rod gaped. “Wait, Cliff. You mean you didn’t know something was going on between them? They’ve been inseparable since she got here. How did you not notice?”

  The singer laughed. “Oh, I did, man. I’ve just been waiting forever for him to quit hiding it so I could flip him some shit.” He grinned at Klement. “A least that means there will be more groupies for me.”

  He turned next to Kat and winked. “I’m bummed that I wasn’t able to show you a good time, but you did pick the best of us.”

  “Speak for yourself, mate,” Rod said before looking back to Kat and Klement. “You guys better get changed before we head out to the studio. I’ll get another pot of coffee going.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Klement listened to the tracks with a smile. This was going to be a great album. Maybe even one of their best. He glanced at the rest of the band, studying their faces as they listened as well. From their rapt expressions, it seemed they agreed. No matter what the critics would say about the absence of Lefty, in the end this would be something to be proud of. Kat’s playing was revolutionary yet blended seamlessly with Bleeding Vengeance’s signature sound. Only the most obstinate assholes would try to argue that.

  “What do you think?” Klement asked the others. “Is it ready to be mixed and mastered?”

  “I think it’s bloody great,” Roderick said. “I can’t wait to hear the final product.”

  Cliff nodded. “It’s gonna be perfect. Just be sure you don’t get into another fight with the mixing engineer. He makes me sound good. I don’t want to lose him.”

  “As long as he doesn’t tune down my bass tracks or mess with the drums or lead, we’ll be fine.” Klement still hated the fact that he had to put such crucial work in the hands of others. He’d mixed their first album, but now the record company wouldn’t let him control everything anymore, not now that the band had proven to be a viable product worthy of their investing their coveted producers and putting more cooks in the kitchen than were probably needed. With great reluctance, he admitted that since the b
and was so successful, he wouldn’t have the time anyway.

  “Kat?” he prodded, when he realized she’d remained silent.

  She looked up with wide dark eyes that threatened to drown him. “It’s incredible. I can’t believe I was a part of it.”

  He held her gaze and they shared a smile. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

  As they left the studio, Klement felt like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He always felt lighter after finishing an album, but this time the sensation was multiplied. A lot of it was because they’d managed to pull it off without Lefty, something they’d all feared would be a disaster. But he couldn’t help but wonder if a lot of his euphoria was because he’d gotten everything settled with Kat.

  Well, almost everything.

  Where do we go from here? she’d asked in a heartbreaking, tentative voice.

  His one-day-at-a-time suggestion had worked so far, but it wouldn’t for long. She lived in northern Idaho, taking care of her mom, and he lived here in Colorado. That wouldn’t matter when they were touring and recording, but the months in between worried him. Could a long-distance relationship work between them? Hell, could he handle being away from her?

  He’d shied away from the thought and spent the last week in bliss with Kat, snatching at every private moment with her like the priceless treasures they were. To his relief, Rod and Cliff didn’t seem to be judging him—or, more importantly, Kat—for the relationship. As the bassist of Viciӧus had been upset at first for Quinn dating Kinley, Klement had been concerned about group unity. Thank God his own bandmates were different.

  Even better, they didn’t seem to be treating Kat any differently—well, aside from them no longer hitting on her, but that was a good thing. Cliff had asked how she was in bed, but mostly to yank his chain, Klement supposed. Either way, the look on his face had apparently dissuaded the singer from asking again.

  With the album to complete and with the time to leave for Thrashfest creeping up on them, it seemed there weren’t enough hours in the day. First the photographer came down and did a shoot for the inner sleeve; then they consulted with their artist for the cover image. On top of that, Klement was still going through the footage of the studio parking lot in his “spare time,” looking for the mystery car. Although Cliff and Kat hadn’t had anything happen to them since the dead cat and the sugar, he wasn’t about to think the psycho had just given up. Even if he had, he still needed to be caught.

  The night before they were due to leave for Wisconsin, Klement gave a whoop. He’d found the bastard’s car. After hours of fast-forwarding through jerky images of vehicles blinking in and out of the lot, he spotted a red Kia. A memory slapped him in the face a moment later. It looked like the very same that had made a wrong turn at the base of his driveway behind Kat when she’d first come to his place.

  Duh. It hadn’t been a wrong turn. She’d been followed.

  Freezing the image, Klement made a copy and uploaded it to his image manipulation software. After another hour of fiddling with the resolution and lighting, he got the plate number. Duplicating the image again, he overlaid it on top of the one he’d been playing with from his own cameras, adjusted the transparency and made a few more tweaks.

  They matched. He had the son of a bitch.

  The license plate’s state gave him pause. Washington? That was far from Colorado. But it was right next to Idaho.

  “Hey, Kat?” he called. “Come here a minute, would you?”

  She came into his office with her Kindle tucked under her arm. “Yeah?”

  “Where did your ex live?”

  Her lush lips twisted into a frown of disgust. “Spokane. Why?”

  “The car that delivered the dead cat and also paid a few visits to our studio parking lot had Washington plates.” He beckoned her over to see the images on his screen. “Do you think it might have been him?”

  Her frown deepened as she looked at the picture. “Well, he did get pretty crazy when I broke up with him. Mom even had to threaten to call the cops because he wouldn’t quit coming by our house. He sent me threatening text messages, but then he stopped. Like I told the cops, I haven’t heard from him in months.”

  Klement nearly snapped his pen in half. Threatening text messages? Stalking her at her house? What kind of a monster had she dated? Still… “Do you think he followed you to Denver?”

  “I doubt it. I mean, why would he bother? He didn’t even like me that much when I think about it. He is crazy enough, though.” She leaned forward and studied the Kia. “But that’s not his car. Not unless his income improved since we broke up. Last I knew, he drove an old Ford pickup.”

  Klement tapped the end of his pen on the license plate frame where a logo was barely discernible. “I’d bet money that’s a rental.”

  “Oh. I didn’t think of that.” Kat hugged her arms. “Even then, I don’t think he’d be able to afford it. He only works construction on and off. Lately, more off than on. Unless…” She sneered in disgust. “He sold drugs on the side. Not weed, either, but the hard stuff. That’s another reason I broke up with him.”

  “What’s the first reason?” Klement asked.

  She looked down at her feet. “He hit me.”

  Immediately Klement flashed back to that first day in the studio when Kat had dropped her pills and flinched when he handed them back to her. And when she was curled up in his lap, shaking from a panic attack from the effects of the pot cupcake and memories of her abusive father. And, now here she stood, looking small and vulnerable.

  “I’d like to hit him,” he growled with such ferocity that Kat took a step back. “I’m sorry. I’m not really a violent person, but…” He sighed and shook his head. He might have been neglected, but at least he’d never gone through anything like Kat. “Anyway, I’ll let the cops deal with him.” He picked up Officer Shaw’s card.

  “Do you think they’ll catch him?”

  The doubt and fear in Kat’s eyes made Klement want to pull her into his lap. He chuckled, eager to get the son of a bitch behind bars, whoever he was. “With a plate number and the records from the rental place? If it is him, most definitely. Not to mention your testimony.”

  “Testimony?” Her face paled.

  He scooted back his office chair and pulled her into his lap. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there with you. And after I talk to the cops, you should file a restraining order.”

  “Okay.” Yet at the mention of cops, she shivered.

  “Don’t worry.” He stroked her back. “That fuckhead is going down, and I won’t let him near you again.”

  “I’m so glad I met you,” she murmured against his chest.

  “Me, too.” His arms tightened around her. His own life had been bleak before Kat, but he hadn’t realized it. “Now, let’s get that douche-monkey and concentrate on more important things.” Like whether she wanted him to come to Coeur d’Alene for a visit after Thrashfest. Quinn had left his Seattle condo six months ago to move there to be with Kinley, and he liked living there, so maybe…

  Still cradling her, Klem picked up his phone and dialed Officer Shaw.

  “It’s Klement Burke,” he said when the cop answered. “The one who reported someone tampering with Katana James’s car and delivering a dead cat to Cliff Tracey.”

  “Hello, Mr. Burke. Has anything else happened?”

  “No, but I identified the car from security footage from both my house and the studio.”

  “Really? Our guys haven’t had any luck with that.”

  “I’m willing to bet I have more experience than they do with graphics.” Before Shaw could argue, he continued. “It’s a red Kia, not sure of the year, but I got a plate number.”

  Shaw had him hold while he checked the read-off number against a database. A moment later the officer was back and said, “It belongs to Appleway rental cars in Spokane County, in Washington.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  Shaw put him on hold again. When he returned he
said, “They’re closed for the night, so we won’t be able to find out whose name the rental’s under until tomorrow. But that’ll give us time to get a warrant.”

  “We’re going to be flying out to Wisconsin for a show tomorrow,” Klement said. “But we already have a prime suspect for you to look into.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “Kat’s ex boyfriend.” Klement cupped the phone and turned back to her. “What’s his name?”

  “Richard Dumascian.”

  Klement bit back a laugh. It sounded like “dumbass,” which fit all too perfectly. And one of the nicknames for Richard was Dick. That also matched.

  “Can she give me his address and physical description?” Officer Shaw asked after he heard the name. Klement passed her the phone, and she took it with shaking hands. He kissed her on the forehead.

  This cop isn’t your father, he wanted to tell her.

  She handled talking to the police much better over the phone than in person. It helped that Officer Shaw had a soothing voice, but Klement was sure that most of it had to do with the fact that she didn’t have to see his uniform.

  “Hello. He’s five-ten with brown eyes and long, curly brown hair.” She paused a moment, fingers moving like she was twirling an imaginary cord from an old-school land line. “Oh, he’s white. About a hundred and eighty pounds.”

  Klement raised a brow. It was like she was describing Cliff. Was that why she’d ended up dating the bastard in the first place? Because they looked alike? Old insecurity rose up. With his blond hair, blue eyes, pasty skin and freakish height, he looked nothing like what was probably her preferred type.

  Yet here she was, curled up on his lap.

  Kat spelled the guy’s last name before reciting his address. She fell silent when the officer spoke. Klement picked out enough words to determine that he was asking why she suspected her ex.

  “He’s the only person I know from Spokane, for one thing.” Her voice was taut and defensive. “He also stalked me for three months after I broke up with him.” Her frown deepened at the cop’s next question. “Because I thought he’d given up and moved on to some other woman,” she said impatiently. “He didn’t even like me that much.”