by Brooklyn Ann
Klement was too busy wondering who wouldn’t like Kat to hear what the cop asked next.
“He does construction jobs for various companies.” Her voice was cold and flat. “I think he might sell drugs on the side.”
Might, instead of her knowing he did? At first Klement was taken aback at the white lie, but then he realized she was probably afraid the cop would give her flak for not having reported Dick in the first place. Or, worse, he’d think she’d participated or partook.
Oh crap, she did have a point. After all, she was now in a world-famous heavy metal band, and anything related to music or fame was often associated with drugs. He himself had been featured in High Times magazine with his girls a couple years back. Maybe that would bring some scrutiny down on them. Maybe she shouldn’t have even said anything about her ex’s side job. But it was too late now.
“No, I don’t know what kind.” Her impatient tone returned. “I was never around for any of that. It was just his weird phone calls and visits with friends at odd hours. Hell, maybe he was just cheating on me the whole time and I suspected drugs to make myself feel better.”
She answered a few more questions before handing the phone back to Klement.
“We’ll get that warrant and search this city for the car,” Shaw told him. “I’m also contacting the Spokane police. They’ll probably call back with their own questions.”
After Klement hung up, he felt much better, finally believing he knew who was messing with both Kat and his band. “I hope they catch that fucker soon.”
Kat nodded emphatically. “Me too. I just can’t believe he went this far. He must be insane.”
“Insane,” Klement agreed, suddenly tired of talking about her ex. Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to his bedroom. “Let’s forget about him and make use of our final hours alone before we’re crammed on a plane.”
He made love to her slowly and tenderly, savoring every inch of her body. Afterward, as she rested her head on his chest, a surge of protectiveness made him clench her tighter in his arms.
I won’t let that bastard near you, he silently vowed.
Chapter Twenty-one
Excitement and trepidation roiled in Kat’s belly as she got on the tour bus with Klement and the guys to head to Thrashfest.
Although she’d been to the festival six times before, it was obviously never under these circumstances. Instead of taking a four-day bus trip, today she’d flown first class. Instead of taking a taxi to the nearby campground or a cheap motel, they were staying at The Alpine Valley Resort, which looked like a Bavarian villa from a fairy tale. Even though she hated snow and ice with the heat of a thousand suns, Kat had to admit the place probably looked incredible in the winter during ski season—and it looked just fine now in the late spring. She and Kinley had taken pictures of it before but never gotten the chance to see the inside. This time, she and Klement were sharing a suite. The only down side was that, for the first time, she hadn’t gotten to see the first day, which was comprised of awesome debut bands who were not only great candidates for Metalness interviews, but also served to help her and Kinley find new music to rock out to. It was all about the music.
This time, however, Kat would be there not as a spectator or even a journalist, but as a performer. Bleeding Vengeance would be part of the second day, which was reserved for the titans of metal.
She dug in her purse for her Xanax and took a half a pill, saving the other half for before they went on stage. Klement squeezed her hand. Rod and Cliff gave her wary looks. So Kat wasn’t the only one worried that she’d freeze up from stage fright.
I won’t let them down, she silently vowed. I can do this.
As if in affirmation, the first people they saw when they piled out of the bus and entered the backstage area were Viciӧus.
Momentarily forgetting her worries, Kat ran over and enfolded her friend in a bear hug. “Oh my God, Kin, is it really you?”
“I was about to say the same.” Kinley picked her up and twirled her around. Normally Kat hated that, but her tall friend could get away with anything.
“How’s it going with Viciӧus?” She glanced back and saw Klement and Quinn immersed in conversation then lowered her voice. “And with Quinn?”
Kinley grinned, but she also fiddled with her long dark braid. “Great. Except that, since Curt’s still in rehab, they want me to help write songs for the next album. They said they like my technique, but I’m scared shitless. I’m not anywhere near as creative as you. What if I blow it?”
“You’re going to be fine. When we get back to Coeur d’Alene, I’ll jam with you and see what we can come up with.”
Kat bit her lip and thought of leaving Klement. She couldn’t imagine him abandoning his home to live with her and her mom. So could she leave her mother and her best friend to live with him? Would he even want her to?
As if reading her mind, Kinley leaned close. “What about you and Bleeding Vengeance? And Klement?”
As quickly as she could, Kat filled her friend in on the recording sessions and how she fit in with the band, finishing with her developing relationship with Klement. With a laugh she added, “He called me as IT Guy and asked me to meet him for dinner.”
Kinley’s eyes were wide as dinner plates. “No way. How did that go?”
“Awkward at first, but then it was so romantic.” She couldn’t hold back a breathy sigh.
Her friend uttered a strange-sounding laugh. “That reminds me…”
She trailed off and strode over to Klement.
“Ow!” he yelled when she punched him in the arm. “What was that for?”
“For not telling me and Kat that you were our tech support guy for our website.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
The guys from both Bleeding Vengeance and Viciӧus stared at Klement like he’d grown an extra head. Except for Quinn. He leaned against the wall, sipping his beer with a smug smile.
His nonchalance did not escape Kat’s notice. Eyes narrowed, she rounded on him. “You knew?”
“It wasn’t my secret to tell.” He toasted Klement with his beer. Kinley smacked him then, albeit not as hard as she’d hit Klem. He rubbed his arm and gave her a smoldering yet playful look.
Kat felt warm watching them. They were so in love, it was clear.
Klement gave Kinley a perplexed look. “I did tell Kat. And she didn’t see the need to hit me. In fact, she said you helped her understand my reasons for secrecy.”
Kinley didn’t seem to have a good argument for that, so she headed back to Kat. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” she whispered.
“Yes.” The word emerged as a pained cry.
“Then I won’t hit him anymore unless he hurts you.”
An unjustly beautiful blonde woman approached. Her lips were curved in a seductive smile, but her cornflower blue eyes were cold. Kat disliked her on sight.
“Fuck,” Kinley hissed through her teeth. “It’s Marianne.”
Kat glanced back at the Barbie-esque woman and noticed the press pass clipped to her blouse. “The bitch from Rocktalk who exposed you and Quinn?”
“Yeah. Did you know that she’s slept with practically half of the bands here? Even Quinn—but before we met,” she added quickly. “It’s like she’s some kind of twisted, skanky collector.”
Had she slept with Klement? Kat couldn’t hold back the dreadful thought.
To her dismay, Marianne sauntered over to the guys of Bleeding Vengeance. Her stomach knotted. Was she the scheduled interview they’d mentioned?
Then she saw that no matter how much Marianne batted her eyelashes and swayed her hips, Klement, Rod, and even Cliff ignored her. Kat silently cheered as Cliff shook his head and walked away. She remembered that they’d all been pissed at Marianne’s website for sensationalizing Lefty’s death.
Had Marianne written that article? Given how they were acting, Kat was willing to bet she had.
The reporter’s smile wavered at the band’s
cold shoulder, but then her gaze lit on Kat and Kinley. She stalked over to them like a shark smelling blood in the water.
“Damn it,” Kinley muttered. “I cannot handle her catty bullshit. Make her go away.”
Kat felt her lips curve into a wicked smile. “Don’t worry, I will.”
Marianne’s grin broadened until she did resemble a shark. “Well, if it isn’t Metal-Kin and Metal-Kat.” Her predatory eyes focused on Kat. “I see you followed in Kinley’s footsteps. Now both of you are guitarists of famous bands. I am interested to know how you pulled it off.”
“Because we can play guitar,” Kat said slowly, as if speaking to a toddler.
The reporter blinked and frowned before recovering her sharp-toothed grin. “Oh, but I’m sure that sleeping with the lead singers helped.”
Kat stepped forward so quickly that Marianne stumbled back. “No, that’s how you operate. Quit projecting your deluded motives onto other women. First off, I am not sleeping with Cliff. Secondly, Kinley and Quinn’s relationship developed after she’d been the guitar tech for awhile, which you might have learned if you’d bothered to ask instead of sneaking around snapping pictures of them on their first date and posting it all over like some trashy tabloid. Kinley didn’t have to spread her legs for her job any more than she did for her interviews. Unlike you.” She pointed at Marianne, making the woman backtrack another step in her wobbly heels. “Furthermore, it was Curtis who asked Kinley to step in for him, not Quinn.”
As Marianne flushed and took another step back into the corner, Kat continued. “I don’t know what you think to get with talking shit to us, and I know you don’t have an interview scheduled with Bleeding Vengeance or Viciӧus.” She actually didn’t know if the last was true, but with Marianne’s past behavior she was willing to assume so. “So why don’t you get the hell out of here and go do your job and let us do ours in peace.”
Though she was visibly trembling, Marianne managed a derisive sniff. “You’re absolutely right. I am wasting my time talking with a low-tier site…that now has a conflict of interest. I’ll be sure to warn the other bands not to talk to either of you second-rate journalists.”
It was a strong speech, but the woman slunk off like a whipped dog despite her bravado. Kinley whistled and laughed.
“Damn, you put that bitch in her place. Why is it that you can handle catty women? You hate confrontation.”
Kat shrugged. “I think I’m only afraid of confrontations with men. I never know what they’re thinking. Besides, I’ve been wanting to tell her off for a long time.” She frowned. “But she’s right, you know. We kinda are getting into a conflict of interest with the site.”
“I know. That’s why I’ve been looking for guest bloggers, so more of the coverage doesn’t come directly from us anymore. Quinn’s sister is interested.”
Kat laughed. “Quinn’s sister? Isn’t that another sort of conflict?”
“Not as bad as material coming from us, and she can go by an alias. Besides, she’s not the only one who wants to contribute.”
Another worry emerged. “What if Marianne does convince the other bands not to talk to us?”
“I highly doubt she will. Most of these guys can’t stand shit-talking. What she’ll probably do is publish a derogatory post about us on Rocktalk.” Kinley sounded bored. “Which is fine, because it just proves that we have integrity and she doesn’t.”
Before Kat could reply, she heard the music from the stage fade away into the roars of the crowd. Dragonfyre had finished their set, which meant that it was Niteblade’s turn, and after them, Bleeding Vengeance. She’d been so comfortable being reunited with her best friend and distracted by Marianne’s drama that she’d almost forgotten that her onstage debut was imminent. Their roadies would be getting ready for the load-in any minute.
“What’s the matter?” Kinley asked. “You look pale all of a sudden.”
Mouth dry, Kat swallowed. “I just realized I’m going onstage soon.”
Her friend’s warm brown eyes regarded her with sympathy. “I was so scared the first time that I almost barfed. But when I pretended that I was back at a bar playing with you, it got better. Don’t worry. You’re a killer guitarist and you’re going to rock this. They wouldn’t have hired you otherwise.”
“Thanks,” Kat said feebly. “But I’m still going to take another half a Xanax…maybe a full one.” As if in response to her words, her heart sped up. “I’ll be right back.”
Squaring her shoulders, Kat made her way from the backstage area down the hall toward the restrooms, wanting to quickly rejoin her band and make them proud. She dug in her purse for her Xanax bottle. “I can do this. For me, for the band, and for Klement. I won’t let him down.”
Passing a nearby electrical room, she realized the door was strangely ajar. Before she could close it, a hand seized her wrist and yanked her inside. Her Xanax bottle clattered to the floor. Pills scattered everywhere.
Chapter Twenty-two
Klement frowned as more fans gathered backstage. He’d lost sight of Kat. She and Kinley had been talking earlier, radiating triumph after their encounter with that vapid blond reporter from Rocktalk. After her tacky post about Lefty’s death, Bleeding Vengeance would have nothing to do with that site anymore. He’d almost intervened when she first approached Kat and Kinley, but Kat handled her on her own.
From the way the reporter slunk off, he was dying to know what Kat had said.
So, where was she? He finally spotted Kinley with Quinn signing autographs, but Kat was still nowhere in sight.
He walked over to them. “Have you seen Kat?” he asked.
Quinn shook his head while Kinley answered, “She went to the bathroom to freshen up before you go on.” Her brows drew together. “But that was a while ago. I hope she’s okay. I know she’s really nervous. Sometimes when her anxiety is really high she”—Kinley leaned in close and whispered—“throws up.”
“I think I remember her telling me.” Klement longed to go after Kat and comfort her, but he didn’t want to embarrass her.
Kinley’s eyes widened. “Really? She’s never told anyone but me. She must trust you a lot.” She gave him a stern look. “Don’t fuck it up.”
He bit back a grin at her determination. “I’ll do my best not to.”
When he headed back to Rod, he noticed a group of fans gathered around the drummer. They lit up with hopeful smiles when he approached.
“Where’s Cliff?” a dreadlocked man asked after Klement signed his shirt.
Klement tamped down a pang of disappointment. It was perfectly natural for them to prefer the front man. When he looked around the room, he couldn’t see Cliff either.
Rod looked up from the woman’s breasts he was signing. “I haven’t seen him since he walked away from that tart reporter.”
“Where could he have gone?” Klement frowned.
“I haven’t seen Kat for a bit either.” Rod cocked his head to the side. “You don’t think he’s still trying to get in her knickers, do you?”
“No.” To his surprise, Klement was certain he wasn’t—and that Kat wouldn’t be interested in any man but him anyway. “Kinley said she’s in the bathroom and might be fighting off pre-show jitters.
“Maybe Cliff’s hiding from that guy he met at the bar who turned out to be a wanker,” Rod offered. “I think his name was Rick. Cliff gave him a backstage pass before he found out the guy was loony.”
Rick? Something about that name gave him pause. Then it hit him. Rick was short for Richard.
Dick.
“Oh, Christ.” Klement turned back to Rod. “Did you see the guy here?”
The drummer paused. “No, but then I was a little preoccupied here.” He nodded toward the breasts he had just finished signing.
“Fuck.” Klement’s gut churned. “I’d bet money that was Kat’s ex.”
He berated himself. Kat had been right when Cliff told them what kind of a skeevy pervert his new friend turned out to be
. He sounds just like my ex, she’d said. And only a few nights before that, Klement had seen the son of a bitch when he and Kat had went out to The Hellion. If only Kat had spotted him and pointed him out. Sure, Klement might have ended up in jail for assault, but at least Kat and Cliff would be safe now.
Were they safe?
Rod’s lips twisted in confusion. “What? But that guy probably delivered a dead cat to Cliff and trolled him online. Why would he buddy up to him?”
“To get a backstage pass,” Klement guessed through clenched teeth. No wonder the Denver and Spokane police still hadn’t found Richard. The bastard had already been on the road to Wisconsin.
Rod’s jaw dropped. “Bloody hell.”
“You sure you haven’t seen him here?” Klement’s heart pounded in terror.
“No, but if he’s stalking Kat, he would stay out of sight, right? What do you think he has planned? Do you think he got to them yet?”
Klement didn’t know, but every one of his instincts screamed to find Kat and protect her from that psycho. “I hope not, but I’m going see if I can find them. You stay here and send someone to find me if they come back.”
“Okay. I hope you find them soon,” Rod said worriedly. “We’re supposed to be on for the sound check in a half hour.”
Klement strode off. The show was the last thing on his mind. Kat had better be safe. He couldn’t accept any other alternative.
***
Kat stared into the barrel of the gun. For an eternity her existence was narrowed to that abyss-like black hole. Klement, her heart cried. She wouldn’t even have the chance to tell him goodbye.
“I got you now, cunt,” the familiar, dreaded voice said. “And your pussy of a boyfriend, too.”
Her focus broadened to the face of the man holding the gun. And to the man behind him, who was duct-taped to a support beam. Cliff.