Love Resolution (Black Cat Records series)

by Michelle Mankin

  She felt like an outsider in the sterile space. She moved closer to the windows and sat down in a patch of warm sunlight. Drawing her legs to her chest, she let the heat sink into her skin as she stared out at the view of Puget Sound. The sea was flat and a couple of large cargo ships floated on its deep blue glassy surface.

  The dream had really unsettled her. She remembered their weekly childhood visits to that park and why that slide had terrified her. Her hair had gotten caught once in the top cover. Her father had come rushing over, quieting her crying with his gentle voice. He had tried to loosen it without success. After telling her what he’d have to do, he wiped her tears and used his pocket knife to cut her free. Equally troubling to her was remembering how her father had looked at her mom. It was the same expression she often found Marcus wearing when he looked at her. How would she have reacted in his place, if it had been Marcus who had been ripped out of her life for good? She didn’t know, and she didn’t like thinking about it. She didn’t want to feel sympathetic toward her father. It was so much easier to hold onto the familiar anger she harbored inside.

  “Ace,” Marcus sighed.

  Avery swiveled her head around to look up at him. He’d donned one of the white hotel robes as well.

  “You didn’t sleep very long,” he chastened.

  “I’m sorry. I tried.” She turned away, looking back at the view. “I couldn’t anymore. You should go back to sleep though.”

  “I can’t. Not without you.” He came and stood beside her and studied her with a sidelong glance. “What’s wrong, Avery?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Uh-uh.” He crooked a dark brow. “This is me you’re talking to. Try again.”

  “I had a dream about my mom and dad,” she sighed.

  “A good one or a bad one?”

  “A little of both I guess.” She swallowed. “It reminded me how much he loved my mom.”

  “I imagine he did, especially if she was anything like you.” He studied her for a moment before suddenly disappearing down the hall. He returned quickly, holding her old worn leather journal.

  Her brow rose.

  “Write,” he ordered quietly. “It’ll make you feel better.” He went and got his guitar case and brought it over, taking a seat on the floor beside her.

  She opened the journal and smoothed out a blank page. Before she could even look around for a pencil, Marcus tapped her on the shoulder and handed one to her. She stared out at the water. Hearing the sequential clacking of guitar case latches, she turned her head to watch him draw out his guitar before settling his back against hers. Avery put the eraser to her lips, thought for a moment, and then set the pencil to the page. Behind her Marcus began strumming softly on his acoustic. Back to back they sat together, physically connected. But she felt the touch of his spirit even more. She sighed as serenity washed over her.

  So much for serenity. Avery wandered restlessly through the rooms of the suite trying not to watch the clock. Marcus had gone downstairs to run on the treadmill. She scrolled through the songs on her iPod. Usually listening to music helped her unwind, but even the Foo Fighters couldn’t do that for her right now. She yanked out her ear buds, sighed, and slammed the music device down on the coffee table. She felt trapped inside the walls of the hotel.

  I need some fresh air.

  Remembering Marcus’ directive not to go anywhere alone, she pulled out her cell and tried Sam’s number. It went straight to voicemail. JR’s was the same way. She smirked. They were probably together. She paced some more. There was no real reason she couldn’t go out by herself. She grabbed her hoodie from the back of the sectional, swiped her room key off of the glass topped table in the foyer, and pulled open the door.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed in surprise, hand to her chest. “You scared me, Ray.”

  “Sorry,” he apologized, straightening his black leather coat and pushing away from the hall wall where he’d been leaning. “Where’re you headed?”

  “KeyArena.”

  “Is it time for sound check already?” Ray asked glancing at his watch.

  “No. Not yet. But I thought I might go check it out early. Maybe hear Tempest play.”

  “Alright. I’ll take you over and come back for Marcus later.”

  “I don’t want you to make an extra trip.” She shook her head. “I’ll just take one of the chauffeured SUV’s.”

  “No can do, Avery.” Ray had a sheepish look on his face. “Marcus’ instructions were for me to keep an eye on you.”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said indignantly, hands on her hips. “I’m a grown woman, Ray. He needs to stop treating me as if I’m a child.”

  “Don’t be mad. I don’t think he means it that way,” Ray assured her. “He’s just wants to be sure you’re safe.”

  “You’re probably right,” she relented. “Ok. I certainly don’t want you to get into trouble on my account.”

  “How’s your father today?” Ray fell into step beside her as she walked to the elevators.

  “I haven’t checked,” she said softly as the elevator opened and she walked in. “We aren’t really close.” She glanced over at him. “He used to knock me and my brother around.”

  “I figured as much. I overheard some things when I picked you and your brother up at the airport.” His brow creased. “No child should have to grow up like that, Avery.”

  The elevator was uncomfortably silent as they began to descend to the parking garage.

  Ray cleared his throat. “I know I’ve told you how my mom basically raised me on her own, but I’ve never told you why. My father wasn’t abusive, but he was never really there. He and my mom always had a rocky relationship. He slept around on her. It got so bad that he stopped coming home for days at a time. Eventually my mom had enough. They got divorced when I was thirteen. After that I resented him for a long time. He was always distant and emotionally detached. Sure he’d help with financial stuff every once in a while when his conscious pricked him but that was it. Nothing reliable. He never pursued a relationship with me. Then he died when I was over in Kuwait.” He sighed. “Anyway, the reason I shared all that was to tell you what my mom told me when I got back stateside.”

  Avery’s eyes met his as he continued.

  “She said, ‘Ray, you gotta let it go. In this world, people like your father are gonna let you down. You’re gonna have expectations that some will meet, and others won’t. That’s just the way it is. You can’t control that. Your choice is what kind of man you’re gonna be. One who lets his bitterness destroy him or one who lets go and gets on with his life.’”

  “I get it Ray,” she said softly. “You chose not to be bitter.”

  “Avery, I can’t tell you what to do. But if you don’t mind me saying so, you don’t seem like the kind of person who lets the past define them.”

  While she was considering what he said, the elevator arrived and the doors opened. Ray held his arm in front of the sensor as she stepped out into the parking garage. The cold made her shiver and her nose wrinkled at the unpleasant odor of heavy exhaust. She pulled the sides of her jacket together and zipped it up. Sticking her hands in the pockets, she started to look for the familiar grey Mercedes.

  “We’ve got the Suburban for transportation here in Seattle.” Ray gestured to a black SUV with tinted windows.

  Once Avery was situated in the back, Ray closed the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. Avery noticed him glance at her in the rear view mirror. As he maneuvered the large vehicle up the ramp and out of the parking garage, she pressed her lips together, took a deep breath, and pulled out her cell. Scrolling to the recent call list, she found the number. Justin picked up on the first ring.

  “Hey sis. How’s Seattle?”

  “Good. I guess. I haven’t seen much yet, except for the hotel room. We have a killer view, though.” She looked out the window at the city as Ray drove. The downtown sidewalks were jammed with pedestrians. Traffic seemed light for the middle of t
he day. “How’s Arthur?” Her eyes met Ray’s in the rearview mirror.

  “Much better. They’re talking about discharging him tomorrow. I’m with him right now. Do you want to say hi?”

  “I guess.”

  There was a pause on the line. “Hello, Kat. How are you?”

  “A little tired. Nervous a bit. How are you feeling?”

  “Better. Much better. What time do you go on tonight?”

  “Around nine thirty.”

  “That’s pretty late.”

  “Yeah. I know. I’m sure I’ll get used to it though.”

  “I’m sure you will.” The line was quiet for a moment. “I wish I could see you perform. I know you’ll nail it.”

  Suddenly her mind flooded with memories: him holding her hand as he walked her into school, his soft kisses when he tucked her into bed at night, and the two of them holding the taper together and lighting a candle at the church when her mother had gotten sick. She realized that she had suppressed quite a few of the good things. She cleared her throat. “Hey, we’re pulling into the garage.”

  “I’ll talk to you later then.”

  There was a question implicit in his tone. “Sure,” she agreed. She could make an effort to be civil.

  “Sis, wait,” Justin said, coming back on.

  “What?”

  “I want you to promise to be careful. Especially around those guys from Tempest.”

  She snorted. “How many times do I have to tell everybody? I can take care of myself.”

  “I know that. Why are you being so defensive? It’s just that I read online that some of those guys are into some real crazy shit.”

  “Like drugs?”

  “Yeah, and other things. So anyway just humor me, ok?”

  “Alright, but you don’t need to worry. I’ve got Ray. He’s my guardian angel.”

  She caught Ray’s nod of affirmation in the mirror.

  “Ok. I’ve really gotta go now. I love you Justin, I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Ditto. Take care, sis. Bye.”

  At the arena, Avery scooted out and waved to Ray as he pulled away. Inside, she followed the directional signs which made it easier to navigate the confusing corridors of the unfamiliar building. Passing through security, she reached the backstage area. Tempest was beginning to warm up. Aimlessly, she meandered around, examining the lighting and sound equipment, killing time while waiting for them to get started. Her gaze fell on the cache of instruments lined up for the show. Intrigued, she moved to get a closer look.

  In the dim glow of the backstage lighting, she slowly perused the collection, totally engrossed. She smiled when she spotted her acoustic and Marcus’ side by side. She ran a fingertip across them before noticing a gorgeous maple topped custom Les Paul in a stand beside theirs. She bent over to get a better look.

  Suddenly, the sound of a woman’s high pitched giggle rang out behind her. Turning, she spotted a couple tangled together in the shadowed corner several feet away from her. Oops. She hadn’t realized anyone else was there.

  A tall, lean figure leaned back casually against the wall. Giggle Girl stood with her arms entwined around the man’s neck, facing away from Avery. The man seemed to be staring in her direction. White teeth flashed in his shadowed face.

  “I can stick around after the show, Bullet.” Giggle Girl purred, rubbing her lower body against him. “If you give me a key, I’ll wait for you in your room.”

  “No thanks, Holly,” Bullet’s deep male voice intoned. “You know how I roll. I’m a no strings kinda guy.” He paused. “Unless we’re playing rough.”

  Holly’s answering giggle was muffled into his chest and her hands no longer visible. Where they’d moved to Avery couldn’t tell and did not want to know.

  The end of a cigarette glowed as Bullet took a drag. It illuminated a pair of light colored eyes gleaming beneath a slash of dark brows. His eyes met hers and he raised one brow. She swiveled away, cheeks burning, embarrassed to have been drawn into their little tableau.

  “Bullet,” an irritated male voice shouted from the stage. “Come on, man. Put your dick back in your pants and get on out here.”

  “I’m coming,” Bullet replied wryly.

  Avery heard the unmistakable sound of wet kissing behind her, followed by Holly moaning. Shit. Could this possibly be any more awkward? She began to plot her escape.

  “Hey,” Bullet’s low voice suddenly came from right behind her.

  She pivoted around, catching a glimpse of Holly scooting out the door behind him.

  His gaze traveled the length of her several times as he blatantly checked her out. The light there allowed Avery her first detailed view of him.

  Whoa. Bullet was an extremely good looking guy. Scale of one to ten, too high to rank. Light brown hair in a faux hawk over darker brown brows with just the right amount of thickness and arch to highlight an arresting pair of greyish green eyes.

  Silence stretched out between them. She watched the cigarette move from his mouth to his hand and then his lips slowly turn up into a sardonic smile. “See anything you like?”

  “Not really,” she remarked casually.

  “I’m thinking that’s not true,” he said, taking a step closer.

  She took a reflexive step back.

  He closed the distance, his eyes boring intently into hers.

  Her stomach fluttered.

  Abruptly, he leaned in.

  Her breath caught, a trail of cigarette smoke rising to sting her eyes.

  “Excuse me.” He straightened holding the maple top she’d been eyeing earlier. His brow lifted, the cigarette clinging to the side of his mouth as he spoke. “Need my guitar.” He studied her face again. “I noticed you checking this out when I was with Holly. You play?”

  She laughed. “A little.”

  He offered her the guitar.

  She took it running her hands reverentially over the finely made instrument. “It’s a custom, isn’t it?”

  “It actually belonged to Slash. It’s the one he used at the Guns ‘n Roses concert they did at the Ritz in eighty-eight.”

  “Holy crap!” She handed it back very carefully.

  “It was a gift.”

  “Sweet gift.” She smiled.

  Bullet stared at her mouth.

  She broke into a cold sweat.

  “You look kinda familiar, Red.” He took a moment to clip on the guitar with the strap that had been dangling over one shoulder. “I wouldn’t forget hair like yours,” he observed, reaching out brazenly and rubbing a strand of it between two fingers.

  Avery’s mouth went dry. She swallowed nervously.

  “You one of BS’s guitar techs?”

  She raised a brow. “Not exactly.”

  “Hey, Bryan.” A slender guy with long caramel hued hair suddenly appeared. He had a black scarf tied around his forehead. His dark eyes flicked to her. “Fuck me if it ain’t Avery Jones. They told us Brutal Strength was still in Vancouver.”

  “Nope.” She shook her head, feeling Bryan’s speculative gaze resting on her. “We got in a couple of hours ago.”

  “Cool.” He stuck out his hand. “Warren Jinkins, lead singer of Tempest. Everyone calls me War, though.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Avery noticed Bryan’s lips moving as he mimicked Warren’s introduction. She shook Warren’s hand. “Nice to meet you…War.” She glanced back at Bryan. “Don’t let me hold you guys up. I just stopped by hoping to catch your sound check.”

  “Awesome!” War exclaimed excitedly, flicking one of the tail ends of his scarf back over his shoulder. “I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.” He glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Looks like you and Bryan have already gotten acquainted. Why don’t you come on out and meet the rest of our motley crew.”

  Avery turned to follow War, but Bryan stopped her with a hand on her arm. She fought back a shiver and gave him a questioning look.

  “Play a little, do you?” he asked, eyes gl
ittering provocatively.

  She nodded, lips curving up.

  “Damn.” He smiled back. “You’re even hotter in person.”

  “Save the flattery for the groupies,” she snickered. “Bullet.”

  His lips twitched. “Don’t mock it, Red. At least,” he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “not until after you’ve tried it.”

  Avery took a seat in a folding chair on the front row of the arena. A few road crew members scurried on and off the stage moving equipment, but other than that the huge venue was silent.

  The guys from Tempest seemed pretty cool. Except for Bryan, none of the others had tried to hit on her. They were all in their early twenties. Dizzy, the rhythm guitarist had short spiky white blond hair and lots of facial piercings. The bassist, Sager, was tall and lanky with a prominent nose and curly brown hair that peeked out from underneath his newsboy cap. King, the drummer had a body builder physique and long black hair. He seemed to be the only shy one in the bunch. He’d barely made eye contact with her when they’d been introduced.

  She watched them finish their setup. Her gaze repeatedly found its way back to Bryan “the Bullet” Jackson. He was still watching her, too. He raised one of his brown brows in salute.

  She rolled her eyes.

  His lips twitched before he leaned over to adjust the pedal on his foot board.

  “Their lead guitarist is easy on the eyes, isn’t he?” Sam commented as she took a seat next to Avery.

  “I guess,” Avery replied noncommittally.

  “Aw come on. He’s young, not JR or Marcus caliber yet, but he’s pretty sexy.” She fanned herself with her hand. “I bet he knows those tat sleeves of his look real good against that white t-shirt he’s wearing. They definitely play right into that bad boy rep he’s earned. My sister would label him ‘man candy handsome.’ Oh. My. Gosh.” Grey eyes wide, she flicked a glance at Avery. “He just winked at you, didn’t he?”

  Avery’s exasperated sigh was drowned out by a sudden growl. Marcus, his hair still wet from the shower, was glaring back and forth between the two women and the stage. “Who’s winking at Avery?” he demanded to know.