“Killian?” My stomach bottomed out as the elevator slowly came to a stop and the doors slid open. “Kill, you there?”
I came out of my frozen stupor when the door began to close again, holding out my hand to stop it as I stepped out of the car. “How the fuck did you get this number, Cara?”
My ex’s voice scraped like nails down a chalkboard. “It wasn’t easy. You’re a hard man to track down.”
Red coated my vision as I stood in the middle of the empty hallway, my free hand balling into a fist so tight my nails dug into my palm. “You ever stop to consider that maybe it’s ’cause I don’t want to hear from bitches like you?”
Cara’s voice grew soft. “Kill, please. It’s been so long.”
Christ, that softness used to gut me. Back when we were together, I’d have given her anything when she used that voice. Now I knew it was nothing more than her attempt at manipulating me.
“Not long enough,” I growled. “Gotta say, Cara, it’s pretty fucked that you’d ever reach out to me after the shit you pulled.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… I had to. I know we left things in a bad way, but I heard you were in LA. Can we meet up? I just want to talk. I miss you, baby.”
My jaw clenched to the point of pain in an attempt to keep my rage in check. “Left things in a bad way?” I asked with a bewildered laugh. “Is that what you call fucking another guy while my ring’s on your finger? A bad way?”
“Killian—”
“I don’t know how you managed to track me down, but you’re fuckin’ delusional if you think I’m gonna give you another goddamn second of my time. Lose my number, Cara. I mean it.”
Disconnecting the call, I stomped down the hall to my room. Once I was inside, I moved straight to the minibar and pulled out the tequila. Unpleasant as it was to hear from Cara, it was the punch to the gut I needed in order to get my head straight.
It was a glaring neon reminder of exactly why this shit with Gina needed to come to an end.
Chapter Eight
Gina
Something had happened in the hours that passed since seeing Killian the night before. He could be an asshole, no doubt about that, but he was in exceptionally rare form this morning. He was being such an epic prick that I didn’t just want to throttle him, I was actually contemplating murdering the son of a bitch.
Maybe it was how we’d left things the night before. Maybe it was just another one of his many mood swings. I didn’t know what caused his sour, pissed-off mood, but the Killian from last night was long gone.
“Gina!” the jackass shouted from his place in the makeup chair. We’d arrived at the studio to shoot their music video only a few minutes before, and he’d already started in on me.
Avoiding the curious stares of the other guys in the band and the women gathered around working to get them ready for the shoot, I walked across the room. “You bellowed?” I asked snidely.
Now that I was closer, I could see he looked like hell. Dark circles shadowed the skin beneath his eyes. His normally close-cropped beard was starting to look scraggly. It seemed like he hadn’t slept a wink the night before.
“I need coffee,” he grunted sullenly. “Run out and get me a venti Americano. Grab something for the guys too while you’re at it.”
My eyelid began to twitch, and I desperately wanted to punch him in his arrogant, sexy face, but by the grace of God I somehow managed to keep myself in check. After all, coffee runs were technically part of my job description. It just would have been a lot easier if he wasn’t such a dick about it.
“On it,” I ground out through a fake, brittle smile.
Pulling out my phone, I Googled the nearest Starbucks and headed in that direction. In Seattle, the fifteen-minute walk would’ve been no problem, but thanks to the smoggy LA heat, I was sweating like a whore in church by the time I made it into the coffee shop. The line was nearly to the door when I stepped into the air-conditioned building, so it took forever to get the guys their coffee.
Once I finally made it back to the studio, almost an hour had passed. My hair was a frizzy mess, and my makeup had all but melted off.
I was on the way to the dressing area to deliver the loot when I walked past Tate and her friend Lyla talking.
“This is so bizarre,” Lyla whispered as she looked around the set where the guys were about to film the music video for “Soulless.” “I mean, I know they’re famous and everything, but they’ve always just been ‘the guys’ to me.”
Tate smiled back at the pretty blonde. “I know what you mean. It’s hard to picture them as celebrities when I’m still breaking up catfights between them just like back in school.”
“Well I’m glad you two can be so cool about it,” I joined in, feeling the need to vent my woes. “’Cause I’m still freaking out.” I was so far out of my element when it came to my new job it wasn’t even funny. I’d never felt so out of place, and with each passing day it became more and more obvious that I didn’t belong. When we made our first stop in San Diego earlier in the week, I’d nearly had a panic attack at the sight of the massive screaming crowd gathered outside the hotel. I’d never seen anything like it. The guys rolled with it like it was just another day, but I was freaked.
“Who are those for?” Tate asked, looking to the coffee tray in my hand.
The puzzled expression on her face filled me with dread. “Killian said the guys needed coffee. Should I have gone somewhere else?”
Her jaw clenched, and her eyes narrowed angrily. “He actually said that?”
“Yeah. And the closest damn Starbucks was like a fifteen-minute walk from here. Then the line was damn near out the door. Are they pissed I took so long?”
“Uh, isn’t there a coffee station near the craft services table?” Lyla asked.
I could feel my face begin to burn with rage as I scanned the room, coming to a stop on the full-service coffee bar a few yards away. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
All of a sudden, Killian’s booming voice echoed through the studio. “Thumbelina! Coffee, woman!”
Tate must have seen that I was seconds away from exploding and raining holy hell down on the bastard, because she quickly spoke up. “I’ll fix it,” she reassured me, placing her hands on my shoulders. “I’ll make him stop, I swear. In the meantime….” She grabbed two of the drinks, keeping one for herself and giving the other to Lyla. “We get to drink these, and Kill can go screw himself.”
I sat the tray on a nearby table and snatched a coffee for myself before stopping a guy shuffling past to give him the last one, saying, “It’s from the guys in the band. Enjoy.”
He looked at me like I’d lost my mind, then hesitantly took the last cup before scurrying away.
“That was twenty-five bucks of my own money,” I ranted. “I’m gonna murder that guy before this tour’s over.”
“Murder who?” Gwen asked, walking up to our little huddle with Corrie.
“Killian,” Tate replied. “He’s taken to playing immature, nasty pranks on their new assistant.”
Gwen’s eyes went big as she turned to me. “He’s pranking you? That asshole! Don’t worry, babe, I’ll totally help you bury his body.”
A few minutes later, the guys came sauntering out of the dressing area, ready to shoot. The way Tate and Declan eye-banged each other wasn’t lost on any of us. Whatever was happening between the two of them was the worst-kept secret in history, but I was too busy watching Killian to give her too much grief about it. The makeup artist had been able to work wonders—not that she didn’t already have an impeccable canvas to work with, but she’d somehow managed to completely hide the lack of sleep I’d seen written on his face earlier.
His attention turned to me, and his eyes narrowed menacingly when I lifted his Americano to my lips and took a long sip. He wanted to push me? Well two could play that game, and I was in the mood to push back. With a smug grin stretched across my lips, I extended my arm out to the side and slowly
poured the remaining coffee into the trash can next to me. Once I finished with that, I flipped him off and spun on my heels, mindful to add an exaggerated sway to my hips as I sauntered off.
As much as I hated to admit it, watching Killian play during the shoot was one of the hottest things I’d ever seen. His sheer talent couldn’t be denied. He radiated self-confidence as he pandered to the cameras. He was a natural, and seeing him in his element like that turned me on in a way I never wanted to admit.
It wasn’t just their looks that made the members of Civil Corruption so damn famous—that was just icing on the cake. What had put them over the top into superstardom for the past decade was their musical genius.
We’d been on set for three hours already and had only managed to get through the first of two scenes. In that time, Killian had demanded I fetch his water, his lucky guitar pick, and the phone number for one of the busty makeup girls who’d been giving him sultry looks all morning long. I was exhausted, hungry, and pissed. I just wanted this day to end so I could sleep in my own bed.
The director had called for a short break, and I used that as an opportunity to hit up the craft services table for something to eat. I was in the middle of loading my plate up with fresh fruit and cheese cubes when a man’s voice sounded behind me.
“Takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?”
I looked over my shoulder toward the voice that belonged to one of Ian’s security guys. I’d seen him around plenty, but we’d never actually spoken. He was a good-looking guy—really good-looking, as were the rest of the men on the band’s security team. He was around Killian’s height, more leanly muscled than bulky, but that did nothing to hide the power that was evident under the pressed black suit and charcoal button-down all of Ian’s men wore. His smiling hazel eyes glinted with flecks of gold, and his long, dark eyelashes and toffee skin made the light color in them stand out. His black hair was slightly over-long and rested in an attractive, careless manner. Where Killian reminded me of a sexy lumberjack, this guy looked like a tall, dark, and handsome GQ model.
“Sorry?”
“This whole scene,” he explained, waving an arm to encompass the massive studio warehouse. “The cameras and fans and all the other shit that comes with working for celebrities.”
“Oh.” I laughed lightly and set my plate down, freeing me up to turn and face the guy fully. “Yeah, definitely. To be honest, I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it.”
His smile revealed a mouthful of straight white teeth that shone against his deep olive skin. It was one of those smiles that was so perfect it nearly took your breath away. “You will. Took me a while, but it’s second nature now. I’m Marco Castillo. I don’t think we’ve officially met.”
I took his outstretched hand, noticing it was so large it engulfed my own. “We haven’t. I’m Gina Ivory. Nice to officially meet you,” I replied, returning his smile. “How long have you worked with the band?”
Marco leaned his hip on the table, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “About three years now.”
“And you like it?” I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.
He chuckled like he knew exactly what I was asking. “It’s not so bad. They’re decent guys. Reckless, but decent. You could be a lot worse off, trust me.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a pretty juicy story there,” I stated, arching an eyebrow.
“Several of them,” he answered on a chuckle. “You can’t be in this line of work without dealing with a few nutcases.”
“Oh, this I have to hear.”
My grumbling stomach was all but forgotten. Not only was I intrigued and eager to hear about some of his crazier jobs, but it felt really nice to have another person to talk to. True, I had the girls around for company, and I loved them to death. But Gwen had Garrett, Corrine had Ian, and Tate was currently in some weird cycle with Declan. They didn’t exactly have a lot of time for me. Finding another potential confidant in Marco made me think that maybe the upcoming tour wouldn’t be so bad after all.
He leaned in and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Well, about five years ago, I was working security for this one woman who—”
“Hate to break up the party, but I’m pretty sure neither of you are bein’ paid to stand around screwin’ off.”
I spun around to face an irate Killian. “We were just—”
“From the looks of it, you were just slackin’ off.” He turned his fiery gaze to Marco. “You’re in a building packed with complete strangers, bro. Pretty sure you should be on your toes, not flirting with our assistant.”
“Killian!” I snapped, but instead of letting me rage on his behalf, Marco placed a soothing hand on my arm to stop me.
“It’s cool, bomboncita. He’s right, I should get going.”
Ignoring Killian, I turned fully to Marco and lowered my voice to ask, “You sure? Don’t let him push you around.”
He flashed me another soft, megawatt smile and gave my arm a squeeze. “I’m sure. We can talk more later. And I’ll make sure to finish that story for you.”
My expression gentled into a small grin. “I’ll hold you to that.”
With one last press of his fingertips into my arm, he released me and lifted his chin at Killian as he walked away.
Once I was certain there was no one in earshot, I swung back around to Killian, ready to breathe fire. “What the hell is your problem?”
Chapter Nine
Gina
“That was completely unnecessary,” I continued to rant in a vicious hiss so people wouldn’t overhear. “You had no business talking to either of us like that. We weren’t doing anything wr—hey!” I tried jerking my arm free as he grabbed hold of it and used it to propel me down a long, empty hallway. “What’s the matter with you? Let me go!”
I had to scurry to keep up, tripping over my own feet as his long legs stormed across the room at a fast clip. It was only once we were alone that he let go, but instead of giving me space, he crowded me against the wall and caged me in with both hands on either side of my head.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he growled. “You work for me. That means you don’t spend the hours you’re on the clock trying to get in the pants of the other people on our payroll. And heads up, sweetness, you’re always on the fuckin’ clock.”
My mouth fell open. “I… you… that’s… have you lost your fucking mind?” I bellowed.
Bending his elbows, he moved in closer. We weren’t touching, but I could still feel his heat penetrating through my clothes. “You want to get off, you come to me. What you don’t do is flirt with fucking Marco Castillo. He’s off-limits. In fact, every single goddamn person who isn’t me is off fuckin’ limits, you got it?”
The heat in my blood was a strange combination of indignation and bewildering excitement. My brain and body were on two totally different pages when it came to Killian Everett, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get them to see eye to eye.
“You’re unbelievable!” Placing my palms on his solid chest, I shoved with all my might. The asshole didn’t even budge. “I wasn’t flirting with Marco. We were just talking! He was being nice, that’s all. Do you have any idea how rare that is when it comes to the people surrounding you guys? If it weren’t for the girls, I wouldn’t have had a single person to talk to! He was just making conversation, but you had to come along and humiliate me!” I gave him another shove. “I’ll talk to whoever I want whenever I want, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. I don’t work for you,” I seethed, drilling my index finger into his chest. “I work for the band. And if I wanted to screw Marco until neither of us could walk, you’d have no goddamn say in it!”
“Think again, Thumbelina,” he snarled.
I threw my hands up as far as they’d go with Killian so freaking close. “Oh my God! You’re such a jerk! Get this through your thick skull, Killian. I’m. Not. Quitting. You want to be an asshole? Go for it. You want to see how far you can push un
til I finally snap? You’ll be sorely disappointed. Don’t underestimate me. I have too much riding on this, so do your worst. The only one who’ll suffer for it in the end is you.”
I barely got that last word out before his lips came crashing down on mine. The kiss was reckless and frantic. His lips moved against mine with a desperation I’d never felt from him before. It was as if he was trying to brand me as his with that kiss. And I was helpless to stop it. In that very moment, I wanted to be consumed by him. I craved it more than my next breath. As I fisted my hands in his T-shirt, I’d have given him all the air in my lungs if it meant he’d never stop.
My eyes squeezed shut and my head fell back against the wall when Killian tore away from my mouth to trail wet, openmouthed kisses along my jaw and neck. A broken moan slid from my throat as his fingertips dug into the small of my back, holding me impossibly closer.
“Jesus Christ,” he grunted as he licked that straining cord of my neck. “What are you doin’ to me, sweetness?” I couldn’t have given him an answer if I wanted to. I wasn’t capable of anything other than giving myself over to him just then. “You’re twisting me in knots.” The feeling was definitely mutual. “I know it’s a mistake, but I can’t stop wanting you.”
Wait… what?
The flames deep in my belly were snuffed out like dirt being kicked onto a campfire. Despite Killian’s heat, my body went cold as ice from the inside out.
“Stop,” I whispered, pushing at his considerable weight. When he didn’t move, I pushed again. “Killian. Stop.”
He stumbled back, a look of shock on his face. “What? Why?”
I sidestepped and put some much-needed distance between us. When he reached for me, I moved even farther away.
“Gina, what’s goin’ on?”
Running a shaky hand through my hair, I exhaled heavily before looking back at him. “I’m saving you from making a mistake,” I answered, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you’d regret.”
Consume (Civil Corruption Book 3) Page 5