Read Resisting Velocity Online

Authors: Trinity Evans,Xoe Xanders

Tags: #Romance

Resisting Velocity (9 page)

“One of the guys said they saw Zane headed into your trailer, roughed up and looking pissed as hell. If he had been going anywhere else, I would’ve already tailed his ass. Anything I need to know?”

She spent the next half hour relaying information and learning what Conner had found out about yesterday’s incident—which was basically nothing. With a sigh, she rubbed at her forehead and wrapped up her phone call. “Just so you know, you’re definitely learning via trial by fire…”

“Yeah, no shit. I have guards assigned to the other guys, but Zane—”

“No need to worry about Zane. I spoke with him about personal detail and the only reason that he’s agreed to it is because I’m going to be that personal protection.”

“Are you sure? You two were pretty loud last night…”

“It’s fine, Conner. I’ll be as professional as I need to and I’m sure that, given what’s happened, we’re going to need all hands on deck for this mess.”

“I’ll take the help I can get. Fuck, I’m in a rut right now and if you had taken off like planed… I probably would’ve tucked tail and run.”

Laughing, Charlie pulled the phone from her ear. “I think I hear sleeping beauty. Send detail to come and collect him while I pack some stuff to move into his trailer. Until then, try to keep yourself from running off.”

Zane glowered at her from across the room and Charlie couldn’t help but smile at how much like a cranky child he seemed right now. “Yes?”

“Try to keep from making plans for me from now on. I’m the boss, remember?”

Tongue in cheek, “Yes of course.”

He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed. “I have some shit to do, so don’t bother showing up to my trailer until later. Don’t look at me like that; I’m going to stay in, but I need some downtime before I have you cramping my style.”

“I don’t know what’s up with you right now, but believe me. I’ll take my time so you can take yours to cool down. I don’t know what you’re complaining about. You’ve gotten all of your wishes, as far as I can tell.”

“No, I really haven’t, but with you beside me every hour of every damn day, you’re soon going to see what exactly it is that I’ve been wishing for.”

Charlie watched as he turned and stomped, shirtless, out of her trailer. After double-checking that there was a guard following closely behind him, she shut the door and released the breath she had been holding.

***

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.

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