Resisting Velocity Read online

  ***

  Zane lounged on the plush leather couch, his thumbs mashing button after button on his PS3 controller. On the flat screen TV, the picture showed a skinny white guy with a purple mohawk—Zane’s character—beating the shit out of another guy with a guitar. The speakers let out grunts, groans, and the occasional curse word as their fists flew. Then the guy got up off the ground and ran away. Zane’s character cracked his knuckles and swung the guitar over his shoulder like a club.

  He felt a riptide of emotions swirl through him, a mix of anger and impatience and a little bit of guilt. This was what he’d wanted. A big mess that would draw him and Charlie together, for better or worse. And he’d won, in a way. Charlie was, as of eight o’clock tonight, his official bodyguard. She’d be staying with him, 24/7, until the offender was caught.

  And what would happen if she realized this was all an elaborate plan? That he and the guys had tricked her, tricked the entire crew, into believing someone was out to get him. He sucked in a deep breath and made his character sprint across the street and hotwire a red Mustang that was just sitting in a parking lot. With the radio blaring, he drove across the city, looking for his next objective.

  Chill, Alexander. So far, so good. It’ll be fine. Rubbing his jaw, which felt bruised from the punch he’d received, he kicked up his feet on the coffee table just as a rhythmic knocking sounded on his front door. He glanced sidelong to the clock—four-fifteen—and let out a curse. Setting aside his controller, he unlocked the door. Micah stood on the steps, Parker strutting around behind him, and another wave of annoyance hit him like a sack of bricks.

  “What?”

  “Hello to you too,” Micah said, shouldering past him into the trailer. Zane angled himself to let both guys in. Parker snagged a beer out of the fridge and popped the tab. Micah sat down on the couch, glancing between his band mates. “So, how’s it going?”

  “How’s your face?” Parker said around a smirk.

  “You want something to smirk about?” Zane growled, shoving Parker roughly out of the way. When the younger man pushed up against him in rebuttal, Zane gathered two fistfuls of T-shirt and dragged Parker closer, shaking him a little for good measure. Parker’s eyes widened just a fraction, but the smile never slid away.

  “Zane—” Micah stood, but not before Zane wound up and punched the little bastard. Parker gave a yelp, toppling backwards to land on his ass, both hands flying up to staunch the flow of blood from his now-broken nose. Zane stepped forward, ready to do battle, but Micah grabbed him around the waist and slammed him back onto the couch. “Fuck, man. Stop it, both of you. You’re bigger than that.”

  “You hit like a girl,” Parker grumbled.

  “Why’re you bitching then?”

  Parker winced as he touched his nose. Micah crouched down beside him, grabbed his nose, and quickly set it. His yelp was muffled by the drummer’s hand, but it gave Zane a small flare of pleasure to hear him squeal like a bitch, despite the smarting of his knuckles.

  “That was for punching me to begin with,” Zane said casually.

  Wiping Parker’s blood on his jeans, Micah flopped down on the couch, placing himself between the younger wolf and Zane, watching his alpha warily.

  “I was just making the whole “I got jumped!” thing a little more realistic. Only so much you can do with makeup.”

  Micah even gave a ghost of a smile. “He has a point, Zane. Would Charlie have believed your little ploy if you hadn’t been bleeding?”

  Zane sighed. The blood was a nice touch, but damn. “All right. Sorry for breaking your nose.”

  Parker’s ever-present smirk was back in a flash. “And sorry for messing up your pretty-boy face, but hey, someone had to do it.” He paused, motioning to the paused video game. “You up for a couple rounds?”

  Micah held up his beer. “I’ll drink to that.”

  ***

  He had to admit, punching Parker was the highlight of his day. Not only that, but it calmed him down immensely. His wolf was no longer cagey beneath the surface, but quiet and still. Maybe he just got his rocks off putting lesser werewolves in their place. All he knew was that by the time Charlie rapped on his door at three after eight, he was in a pretty good mood.

  “Hey there, beautiful.” He greeted her with a bright smile, which earned him a raised brow and a small shake of her head. He held the door open as she climbed the steps, then shut and locked it behind her.

  Zane grabbed two cans of beer out of the fridge and offered one to her. With a duffle bag on one shoulder and a travelling case in the opposite hand, she set them both down on the floor and took the beer.

  “You’ve done a one-eighty.”

  “A couple of hours of video games with the guys will do that to a man,” he replied easily. “What about you? You ready for this?” This, meaning the job—Charlie watching his ass day in and day out, protecting him from threats that weren’t even tangible.

  She pursed her lips, cracked open her beer, and took a swig. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “What kind of answer is that?”

  “It’s the answer you get. Deal with it.” She turned and walked slowly around the trailer, taking in every last detail. His eyes zeroed in on her curve of her waist, to the way she seemed to sashay her hips without even trying. It was enough to make a lesser man drool. He took in a breath, then chugged a couple gulps of his own brew. He could watch her for hours…

  And he’d have hours. He’d have days, weeks, maybe even months of her company. A smile played at his lips and when she turned, her eyes had narrowed. “What are you thinking?”

  “That I’m blessed to be dogged by someone as sexy as you, versus some big burly man.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s not too late to call Conner, you know. Look, we need to talk about this.”

  “I agree.” He swung in, one arm hooking around her as he led her to the couch. He eased down and stretched out, pleased when she settled in beside him, although still far enough away that they could face each other.

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, we need to set the rules. First off, I’m the boss. Not to sound like a chauvinistic pig, but I’m the one that bastard’s after. You’ve been in security for how long, now?” He didn’t give her a chance to reply. “I trust you. More importantly, I trust you with my life. Obviously, isn’t that the point? But I also don’t want this to ruin my rep.”

  A slender brow rose up, speculating.

  He gave a shrug and smiled as innocently as he could. “One, I’d rather this not go viral. If people start noticing that I have a bodyguard—even one as sexy as you—then we might draw in even more trouble. So I’ve decided that if you’re going to be up my ass 24/7, you’re gonna have to play the part.”

  “And what might that be?” she asked, her voice cool and calm.

  He leaned closer. “Not-so-secret lovers, babe. We’ll make them believe that frontman Zane Alexander’s gone soft for a woman and has decided to embark in a monogamous relationship. Oh, the scandal!”

  His lips twitched slightly at the fire that clouded her eyes, like her mind was working double time to come up with ideas, anything to avoid being in close contact with him. Then she squared her shoulders, met his gaze, and simply said, “Fine.”

  His heart sped for a moment as he leaned in close. “You know, with us being a couple… That gives me permission to do this.” His hand touched her shoulder, trailing gentle fingers down her side, dragging the fabric of her suit across her skin. He felt the tiniest of tremors beneath his fingers and it spurred him on.

  “And this.” With his other hand, he pulled back the neck of her shirt and placed a feather light kiss at the base of her throat. He could feel her heart kick beneath his lips and a trill of excitement burned through him. “Whenever I want. For now, you’re mine.”

  When he pulled back, his gaze met hers to find it clouded. With want? Could she want him the way he yearned for her, yearned to touch her? The barest touch of a
smile graced her lips. “For now.”

  He swallowed back the need and stood up. He threw back the rest of his beer and set the empty can down on the coffee table. “Grab your keys,” he said, abruptly ending their conversation. “We’re going on a road trip.”

  She startled. “What?”

  “It might not be a full moon, but if I don’t stretch out and run, I can’t promise not to have my wicked way with you.” His smile was wanton, but wistful. “So unless you want to go crawl under the sheets with me, right here, right now? Grab your keys.” He could see how his words toyed with her, touched her, wound her tight.

  But she snatched her keychain out of her bag and he was both disappointed and relieved.

  The car ride drew silence, spreading like fog between them. She knew where to go: The woods the pack had scouted out prior to the concert, just in case. The trees were thick and dark with night, stretching for miles. She put the little car in park right off the side of the lonely country road, and they got out.

  The minute his feet hit the ground, his wolf was willing and ready with a spring in his step. Excited and ready to burn. He reached up and drew his shirt over his head, dropping it to the forest floor and smiled when he felt Charlie’s eyes trace across his skin.

  Before she had a chance to react, he had her wrapped in his arms, safe and secure. Her warmth beamed against his chest like sunlight and he stole a kiss, quick and fearless, and then he sprang away. He changed mid-stride and burst through the trees like a forest nymph. It only took a second for Charlie to shift and give chase and for several minutes, they ran hard, muscles bunching and coiling, paws striking the earth. Their spirits soared together.

  He noticed when Charlie froze, her eyes locked on something just to the right. He tipped his head and took in the sight of a small herd of whitetail deer grazing in the field ahead. Charlie’s body quivered with excitement and she stepped forward on silent paws. Zane felt her eagerness and matched it. Without sharing a single word, they both moved into a stalk, creeping forward and making sure not to spook their unsuspecting prey.

  It hit him with a pang: This was how he wanted it. He could see them several years in, bonded alphas of Elysium once his parents stepped down. He was proud and well respected; she had the spirit to work her way into the pack’s hearts. His mind flashed and found them laced together in the throes of passion. Charlie threw her head back, crying his name. Another flash and he saw her cradling a bundle in her arms, tiny and delicate. He saw the fussing baby—their son—with a mess of dark hair and Charlie’s intense blue eyes, calming as Zane plucked a hauntingly familiar lullaby out on his acoustic.

  Then he was slammed back into the Now as the deer lunged forward with a low bellow. Charlie bolted beside him and he matched her stride for stride. She latched on to the leg of a young doe, dragging her back away from the herd. He sprang up beside it, his jaws clamping around its throat. The doe bleated and struggled and he increased pressure, tasting the copper tang of blood.

  Giving one last shudder, the animal fell still, limp in Zane’s grip. He dropped it and her head fell to rest on the earth and Zane and Charlie shared a look. She was beautiful and dark, her tail giving a lone wag. She dropped her head and backed up—respect to her alpha, letting Zane eat first, and Zane felt a swell of pride.

  Instead of taking a bite, like his now-watering mouth insisted, he nosed the deer towards Charlie. She flicked both ears back, her eyes meeting his, and he held them. Just what the doctor ordered, he said in her mind and in his, he could see her slightly sheepish smile.

  And together, under the pale sliver of moonlight, they feasted.

  Chapter Eight

  As the trailer jerked to a stop, Charlie rolled off Zane’s couch and landed on the floor with a loud thump. Apparently they’d arrived at their next location, and none too smoothly. Pushing hair out of her face and squinting at the sun that managed to shutter through the blinds, she pulled herself back onto the couch-turned-bed and fought the urge to groan. Usually she slept on a nice firm bed—this ultra-fluffy couch made her feel like she was eighty.

  After their run last night, Zane lightly asked where she planned to sleep and she’d been frank about it. Sure, their run had been magical, to be cliché. He was beautiful, in human and in wolf form, and though his special brand of charm kept sneaking up on her, so far she was holding strong.

  Stretching and wiggling off the last remnants of sleep, Charlie set herself on auto-pilot to get coffee. Her place was much less grandiose, but a trailer was still a trailer. Of course, if Zane didn’t have the decency to keep coffee on hand, she was probably going to have to kill him. Rifling through his cabinets, she found what she sought and started the coffee pot. She headed for the bathroom for a quick shower.

  She hummed softly, the scent of coffee drifting into the small room and making the steam smell heavenly. With the spray of water hitting her back and trickling down onto the shower floor, she didn’t hear the turn of the knob, the soft squeak of the door until Zane’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Don’t suppose there’s room in there for two?”

  “Damn it, Alexander. Close the door and go away.” She turned to make double sure that the shower curtain was closed. It was.

  “I’d really rather not, if it’s the same to you.”

  Charlie bit back a laugh. He sounded just as sleepy as she had been only minutes ago and his usual come-on lacked some of its oomph. She had to give him points for trying.

  “Yeah, yeah. Coffee should be about done, go on.”

  “Hmph. Killjoy.”

  On her own once again, Charlie finished her shower, hair, and makeup before staring at the suitcase now loaded with new clothes that she’d never seen before in her life. Once she had agreed to play the part of Zane’s lover, she’d realized that nothing she owned would really work as sexy. So she’d sent a request, along with a wad of Zane’s cash, with a somewhat-friend of hers from security and now she had to hope that Amy didn’t pick out all of her new clothing based on the outfit she wore at the last concert.

  That would be a disaster waiting to happen.

  Luck was on her side. Pulling on a pair of dark grey leggings that molded to her body, she paired them with a red jewel-toned halter top. She didn’t know as well as she knew Conner or the guys, but as she looked at herself in the mirror, Charlie decided that she had pretty good taste. Securing her Glock at her belt, she wandered out into the kitchenette and found a hastily scrawled note stuck to the table.

  Went to go do sound check and get ready for the concert. Have a good day. I’ll see you tonight—Zane.

  Son of a bitch.

  Her very first morning on the job as his bodyguard and he’d already ditched her. Grabbing her cell, she put a call through to Conner. “Hey, Alexander just gave me the slip.”

  “Nah, he’s fine. Called me a bit ago and asked for someone to pick him up. He said you were still getting around and he had to go.”

  “He did?” Her surprise was audible.

  “Yep, sounded pretty cheerful too. There’s not any particular reason that you needed a lie-in, is there?” The slight leer in Conner’s voice made Charlie grind her teeth.

  “No—and you damn well know it.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ve been given your walking papers for the day. Might as well do whatever it is that women do.” The way he said it, so nonchalant, made her think of Zane waving his hand in dismissal. Maybe Zane was rubbing off on him. In her head, all of Conner’s hair was dyed Velocity Violet and she found herself smiling.

  “I’m not some bizarre species, but okay. See you at the show tonight. Make sure Zane knows that I’m picking up detail the minute he steps off that stage.”

  “Right-o.”

  Neither of them bothered with a goodbye. Charlie flopped down on the couch and glanced about the trailer. God, it was nasty in here… Why did rock stars seem to think they couldn’t be bothered with hiring a maid? They sure as hell made enough money…

  Ah well. Sh
rugging her shoulders, Charlie got to work.

  ***

  After a day of cleaning and otherwise thumb-twiddling, Charlie was grateful when eight o’clock rolled around. She quickly freshened up her makeup and perfume, then headed to the main event. She had confirmation that the fans were already piling into the stadium, along with the fact that Zane and company were being monitored closely by security.

  Apparently Zane’s makeup girl had thrown a fit about the bruise on his face. She’d also heard something about Parker being in no better shape and her first thought was that the stalker had taken a shot at him, too. But when she saw him strutting around backstage, no worse for the wear except for a slight crook in his nose, she shrugged it off. He’d probably pissed off Zane or Micah. That’s just how Parker was.

  With a bit of a smile tipping her lips, Charlie put some hustle into her step. Tonight she was going to just try to relax and enjoy the show. Until Zane stepped down off the stage tonight, it was up to security to take care of the guys. It wasn’t her job anymore, but even though she knew Conner was perfectly capable, she worried. She’d stick close, just in case.

  She spotted Lola pouting behind a metal gate, her hair trussed up in curls. Huh, she must not have been able to finagle the necessary backstage passes in time. As she passed Lola, Charlie gave a little wave, which earned her a sour look from the groupie. She only had to flash her security badge at the guard to get through, and then she was in.

  Ready to rock.

  Plenty of people were running around, putting finishing touches here and there, and since the crowd meant little to her tonight, Charlie couldn’t help but admire how absolutely detailed the tech crew was with everything. They seemed to notice if anything was off center, even by just an inch, or if a light wasn’t precisely where it needed to be.

  Interesting. If the crew had been paying this close of attention to the stage and all that went on around it last time, perhaps the explosion had been the works of one of them? They certainly seemed to know their way around…