With Vengeance (5 page)

“Hmmmm.” His brows drew together and he
fidgeted with his speaker cord. He looked like he was going to say
something else then shook his head. His features settled into a
polite smile.

Roderick grinned. “It was great jamming with
you. Want me to walk you out?”

Overwhelmed by the day’s momentous events,
all Kat wanted was to go back to her room, breathe, and convince
herself that she wasn’t dreaming. “Nah, I’m good.”

As she headed out to her car, she noticed
Klement watching from the picture window. Driving away, she
couldn’t stop looking in the rearview mirror. He didn’t turn away
until she passed through the gate—like he wanted to make sure she
was safe.

A smile tugged at her lips. For the neurotic,
perfectionist dictator he was reputed to be, he was actually a nice
guy.

She hoped she didn’t disappoint him.

***

Klement watched Kat’s old Subaru crawl down
his driveway. He didn’t like the idea of her navigating that old
thing on these roads. At least it handled better than the Kia that
had made a wrong turn behind her when she arrived.

“Damn, I wish she wouldn’t have taken off so
quick,” Cliff grumbled as he opened another beer. “We were just
starting to hit it off.”

Klem shook his head. “She just wants to make
sure she’s professional and does a good job for us. Don’t you
remember being the new guy?”

Cliff nodded. So did Roderick, who said, “She
really did play well. Much more energy than in the studio.”

“I think we should go ahead and do
Thrashfest
.
We only have a week left to cancel.”

Cliff frowned. “I don’t know, man.”

Klement crossed his arms over his chest,
confident in his decision. “Did you see her energy when she played
‘Bring Out Your Dead’? If she can do that on tour, we’re gold.” A
vivid memory of her passionate performance flitted across his mind.
The way her eyes closed and lips parted in naked bliss. Her flying
hair, her rocking hips so close to his as he strummed his bass
behind her. A rush of primal lust coursed through his veins.

It was a good thing, he thought, that she’d
left before the guys—including him—got out of hand. Then again, now
that he knew she was staying at a cheap motel… The Shady Tree was
not in a safe neighborhood.

It didn’t seem practical for her to waste her
money on a room. If she was a guy, he would have invited her to
stay at his house with the rest of them. But her being a woman made
that awkward. With two of them trying actively to get in her pants,
and with his own attraction to her, increasing their proximity
would only add more complications to getting this album made.

At least she’d seemed to be ignoring Cliff’s
and Roderick’s advances. But, neither of them had really gotten
started.

Grinding his teeth, Klement got back to the
topic at hand. “Thrashfest is just a festival, not a whole tour.
It’ll be a good starting point for her.”

Roderick shrugged. “Sounds reasonable.”

Cliff gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if we
get booed or laughed off the stage, I’m kicking both your
asses.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Klement said.
“Besides, you wouldn’t dare risk your pretty face.”

The singer laughed. “Good point. Now, can we
take a break from talking about work and go smoke some weed?”

“Okay.”

But no matter how many bowls they smoked,
Klement couldn’t stop thinking about Kat.

Those thoughts had little to do with
work.

Chapter Four

The moment she sat down on the motel bed, her
phone rang. Kat looked at the caller ID and grinned.

“Hi, Kin.”

“How’d it go?”

Her friend’s curiosity oozed from the phone,
and Kat drew out a suspenseful moment of silence before she spilled
the news. “I got the job.”

“Well, I knew
that
. Klement wouldn’t
have had you come all the way to Colorado if you weren’t going to
get it.” Kinley laughed. “I meant, how did it go with the
guys?”

“They’ve all been really nice. Klement even
invited me to his house to jam with them after the first session.”
Kat couldn’t hold back her excitement. “That’s when they said I got
the job. Well, so far only for the studio. They’re not sure if they
want me onstage with them yet.”

“And Cliff?”

Kinley’s voice had taken on a teasing tone,
and Kat frowned. “He’s even hotter in person. And he flirted with
me! But…” She trailed off doubtfully.

“But?” Kin prodded.

“Okay, don’t laugh. It turns out that he’s
not quite the paragon I imagined. I mean, he stole my solo. And he
has bad breath.” A suspicious rhythmic sound reached her ears.
“Hey, I told you not to laugh!” But her own words broke off in a
chuckle.

Her friend’s unmuffled laughter echoed over
the line. “I’m sorry, it’s just that…if anything was going to get
you over your crush, it would be him stealing your solos.”

“It’s against the code!” Kat said hotly.
“Richard used to do the same goddamned thing. That’s why I broke up
with him.”

Kinley’s laughter halted. “That’s not
why.”

Despite the warmth of the room, Kat shivered
at the truth. No, she had broken up with Richard because he was an
overbearing, controlling prick. He’d tried to keep her isolated
from her friends, discouraged her dreams of a music career, and had
drunken temper tantrums where he broke things and called her
names.

“
At least I don’t hit you,”
he’d used
to say…until he did.

Kat changed the subject. “How are you and
Quinn?”

“Wonderful.” Kin’s voice was breathless with
infatuation. “I’m considering proposing.”

Kat laughed. “Isn’t that his job?”

Kinley was always trying to rebel against her
femininity. She’d hated being a woman so much that it was like a
chip on her shoulder—until she met Quinn.

Kat’s friend sighed. “He already did last
year, remember? And the way I acted, I can’t blame him if he’s
reluctant to do it again.”

When Quinn proposed, Kinley had assumed he
wanted her to ditch her music career and become a housewife. She’d
called him a sexist asshole and stormed off.

“How’s it going with Viciӧus?” Kat asked,
changing the subject.

“Great! I actually wrote some solos, and
they’re going to put them on the album!” Kinley’s voice sobered.
“And it looks like I’m going to be joining you guys for Thrashfest,
though not under happy circumstances.”

Kat’s chest tightened. “What happened?”

“Curt had a relapse.”

Her friend’s sorrow was tangible even over
the phone.

“Oh.”

Kat paused and considered for a moment how
their two lives had been changed by the shenanigans of two
successful musicians. Curt had been Lefty’s best friend and fellow
cocaine addict. He’d checked into rehab immediately after Bleeding
Vengeance’s Lefty died of an overdose beside him, which is when
Kinley stepped up and finished the tour with Viciӧus in Curt’s
place. She’d also been with them in the studio, helping record the
new album. But while her relationship with the lead singer of
Viciӧus was cemented, her position with the band remained
ambiguous. So, Kinley’s experience was like Kat’s. Stepping into
the shoes of a legend was terrifying, especially since the fact
that they were already known for their website made them subject to
all sorts of scrutiny from the metal fanbase.

Kat took a deep breath and asked the question
that had weighed in her gut the moment she’d got the job with
Bleeding Vengeance. “How are the fans treating you?”

“Oh, some of them are still calling me Yoko
and threatening to boycott the band until Curt comes back.” Kinley
sounded tired. “I get called a cunt, a talentless whore who should
get my ass back in the kitchen, blah blah blah.”

Kat cringed. “Shit, that sucks.”

Kin’s voice lightened. “Yeah, but you know
what? I’m not taking it as hard as I used to. Did you know that
Viciӧus had another lead guitarist before Curt?”

“No way.” Kat couldn’t recall hearing that,
but then again, Kinley had always liked Viciӧus better than she
did.

“Yeah, he left before their first album
released. He even has some writing credits on it.”

“Oh? What happened to him?”

“He decided he didn’t like metal and joined
up with another band to do some sort of Latin project,” Kin
answered. “Anyway, some people are still trashing Curt and wanting
that guy back. Hell, some are praising me and saying Curt sucks.
There are so many different opinions, I can’t please everyone, and
eventually I stopped giving a shit.”

Kat felt a wave of relief. She remembered how
devastated Kinley had been when she read the online commentaries
about her temporarily joining Viciӧus.

“So,” Kinley said. “How did the rest of it
go? Aside from Cliff’s solo-bogarting and bad breath? What did you
think of Roderick and Klement?”

Kat paced the small motel room, smiling at
the memory of meeting the guys in Bleeding Vengeance. “Roderick
seemed nice. And I love his accent.”

“Yeah, all the ladies do.”

“And Klement’s a lot taller than I expected.”
Kat closed her eyes and relived their first in-person encounter,
trying to find the right words to describe him. “He kinda looks
like a geeky Viking.”

Kinley burst out laughing. “A
geeky
Viking
? I guess that fits.”

“Yeah. Anyway, he’s definitely as neurotic
and bossy as people say, but with only good intentions. He also
seems to work harder than the other two, so I guess he has a right
to be picky on the details.” Kat flopped on the bed and described
her impression of his house, his guitars, and his determination
that the band stay away from anything harder than booze or weed.
Only after rambling for nearly ten minutes did she stop. “Sorry.
I’ve been such a chatterbox!”

“I understand. And I’m excited for you.” For
a moment Kinley sounded like she was about to laugh again. “But, I
do have to go. I need to finish up my post on the site before Quinn
and I start packing for the tour. By the way, I checked the site
after you texted me. That new comments thingie is working great.
Tell IT Guy thanks for me.”

This time, Kat bit back a chuckle. Kin
avoided talking to IT Guy if she could help it. “I will.”

As reading her mind Kinley said, “And thank
you for dealing with him for me. He drives me crazy. Anyway, I’ll
talk to you soon. And just remember, you’re an amazing guitarist
and you deserve to be where you are. Don’t let anyone convince you
any different.”

After Kin hung up, silence flooded the motel
room like a cold draft, washing away the closeness and warmth of
talking with a friend. Once more Kat was alone in a strange city,
thousands of miles from friends or family.

She shivered and rolled off the bed to grab
something long-sleeved from one of her bags of clothes. She’d
packed for a month, just in case. The purple cashmere sweater
helped a bit, with its familiar smell and soothing texture. Kat
reminded herself that she was here for a good reason and that she
deserved
to be here, like Kinley said.

Firing up her laptop, she browsed for news in
the metal world that could be good material for the blog. When she
saw an article about Thrashfest, which Kinley had mentioned, she
couldn’t resist clicking the link. God, she’d forgotten all about
the two-day festival that was coming up in three weeks. Held
exclusively at the Alpine Valley Music Theater, it featured the
titans of metal. Though, not all of them played
thrash
metal. Dante Deity, an icon of power metal, was one of the
headliners, and there would be a few punk and death metal acts in
attendance as well. Kat and Kinley had attended since its
inception. When they were seventeen, they’d ended up hitchhiking
with a bunch of older metal-heads. When their parents found out,
they were grounded for a month.

Looking at the site, Kat saw Kinley was
right. Bleeding Vengeance hadn’t dropped off the roster, and the
comments section was going crazy about it, speculating on who would
be their guitarist. Why hadn’t Klement and the guys mentioned this?
Were they checking out other guitarists? Or were they considering
letting her join them onstage?

Her stomach churned. Metal fans everywhere
were still mourning Lefty’s death and arguing about who would be
the best man to join Bleeding Vengeance. How would they react when
they found out she was with them in the studio?

She tried to repeat Kinley’s words,
I
can’t please everyone. I stopped giving a shit.

With shaking hands, she closed her laptop and
opened her guitar case. The only way she’d have to worry about
outcries from the fans would be if she proved herself worthy of
joining the band.

Plopping back on the bed, she practiced
tomorrow’s songs.

***

From the window of his hotel room, Richard
watched Kat pull into the lot. For a moment it seemed that she
glanced in his direction as she headed to her room, and he held his
breath, not exhaling until her head dipped to her purse and she dug
around for her key card.

Fury returned. While she’d been at that log
mansion, he’d called the recording studio, pretending to be a
producer wanting to schedule a band for sessions.

“I’m sorry,” the desk guy told him. “But
Bleeding Vengeance has reserved the place until the sixteenth.”

Bleeding fucking Vengeance?

Richard and Kat had first gotten together
when they found out they had the same favorite band. He’d even been
amused at all the posters she had—except for one. A close-up of a
shirtless Cliff Tracey held the honored position in her bedroom,
over the door to the hall. He’d always covered it with a towel when
he came over, vowing that once he convinced Kat to move in with him
the damn thing was going in the fireplace. Instead, she’d broken up
with him, and now she was spending time with more than just a
poster.