Chapter 13
13
KATRINA
“O h, my god! Katrina!”
Goldie throws her arms around me the moment she steps backstage. I startle from instinct, but relax, the friendliness in Tesla’s smile over her shoulder putting me at ease.
“You were so good!” Goldie says, her sizeable chest pressing against mine.
Damn, she really did fill out that corset better than I did.
“Thanks!” I say, the sound of the audience demanding a second encore nearly drowning us out. “You guys were incredible.”
“I can’t believe we’ve never met before. Have we?”
“Not officially, no,” I confirm. I nod at Tesla. “We’ve met, though.”
Tesla grins. “Hey, sweetie, how you doing?” she says as she leans in, planting a quick kiss on my cheek before squeezing me in a bear hug.
I chuckle. They’re so damn friendly.
Despite... well, everything.
“It’s good to see you again,” I say.
Behind them, Logan lingers in the wings, simply watching our meeting play out with amused eyes. I stare him down, giving a simple bow in greeting, insisting he step forward and fucking explain himself.
Goldie taps my arm with her drumstick. “We should do it again sometime. Seriously. How high do those pipes go, by the way?”
“Oh, uh... high C, I think,” I say.
“Damn, girl. That’s some opera shit right there!”
“No, no,” I say. “I can hit it, but I can’t hold it.”
“Still impressive. I need a drink,” she says to Tesla.
“You in?” Tesla asks me as she and Goldie hook arms.
My eyes hop from them to Logan and back again. “Actually, I need to head out?—”
Goldie pouts. “You sure?”
“Yeah, sorry,” I say.
“Don’t sweat it. We’ll see each other again soon.”
I nod, not as sure as she is.
“Let us mingle with our minions!” Tesla says, her lightning blue brow dripping with sweat. “Coming, Logan?”
Logan nods. “I’ll be there.”
The girls hop off together, leaning on each other for support as they plow into the bar.
While they stumble away, I feel Logan’s eyes on me before I even turn to look at him. When I do, they flick up as if they weren’t just checking out my rear end.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” he replies.
“What the fuck was that?”
Logan chuckles. “That, kitty, was fun.”
“You could have warned me.”
“Warn you?”
“Yes.”
“How? I didn’t even know you’d be here, and I was kinda busy being up on stage and all that.”
“You ambushed me, Logan.”
He pauses, shifting slightly on his heels. “I apologize. That wasn’t my intention.”
“What was your intention?” I ask, curious.
“Well, fun. Always.” He smiles, tempting me to smile too, but I hold my stern expression. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll buy you a soda pop.”
I shake my head, knowing I shouldn’t be here any longer than I already have. “No, I really should go home.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“It’s not far. I’ll walk.”
“Then, I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” His head tilts, making the light sweat on his brow shimmer beneath the lights. “And I’m not about to let a young woman walk home alone in Las Vegas in the dead of night.”
I snort. “It’s, like... ten-thirty, Logan.”
“Katrina.” He says my name so softly, so intensely, that my knees quiver beneath me. “I’m going to walk you home now.”
I swallow hard, stalling as I search for another excuse. “You have a bar full of fans waiting to meet you,” I say, pointing toward the curtain.
“They’ll wait.” He shrugs. “It’s, like... ten-thirty.”
I chuckle, unable to stop it, unable to budge an inch beneath his piercing blue eyes. “Fine,” I say. “We’ll slip out the back.”
“First...” Logan prompts, making me pause mid-stride. “I need you to tell me something.”
I stand still, waiting, wondering what he’ll ask. What am I doing here? Why did I come? Why did I agree to go up on stage?
Because I don’t have an answer to any of those.
Logan steps forward, the short gap between us made even narrower. His lip curls in a delicate smirk that sends a shiver through my stomach.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?”
My smile is inevitable. “Yes,” I answer, the performance’s adrenaline still lingering in my veins. “It was fun.”
Logan grins, looking very pleased with my response as he points toward our escape route. “Off we go, then,” he says.
We head into the back hallway together and exit into the alleyway behind the bar. I poke my head out first, checking for people. There usually are one or two, but it’s still early enough that no one’s snuck back here to cut off our route. I give Logan an all-clear nod and we step outside. The early autumn air is crisp but not fresh given the state of the dumpsters nearby, so I hold my breath until we reach the sidewalk.
I go to breathe, to fill my lungs with relief that we got away with no one noticing—especially not the groupies lingering outside The Electrics’ bus on the other end of the lot. I know from personal experience how crazed certain fans can get (Knox has a few interesting scars that prove it), but I can only imagine what they may permanently etch into Logan given the chance.
We walk down the block, silently checking over our shoulders until we’re a safe distance away. After crossing the street and rounding a corner, I release my breath, letting another fill my lungs.
Crisp. Fresh.
Logan.
I glance at him to find him already staring at me as we walk.
“What?” I ask.
“Why?”
“Why what?” I ask, looking down, wondering if my choice of incognito hoodie was a touch too… unstylish.
But Logan swivels his head, glancing around the increasingly empty streets as we drift further away from the bar. “You live here?” he asks. “In this neighborhood?”
“Another few blocks over,” I confirm, then frown. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing,” he answers. “It’s actually quite... nice.”
“And that’s bad?”
“No, just surprising.”
I pause my stride, forcing him to do the same. “Surprising?”
“Well, I just expected... you know,” he mutters, his smile digging in. “A luxury high rise above The Strip or something.”
“Ah,” I say, nodding as we resuming forward, Logan moving in sync with me. “No. That’s not really my style.”
“It’s not?”
“I mean... sure, I can afford it. Hell, I could live in the Botsford Plaza permanently if I really wanted to.”
“But you don’t want to.”
“I like the quiet,” I say after a moment’s thought. “And it’s just me. I don’t need much. And there’s something to be said about simplicity. About living in a friendly neighborhood on a block surrounded by houses that look just like yours.” I roll my eyes. “Sounds real dorky out loud, I know.”
“No,” Logan says. “Not dorky at all, actually. In fact, I agree with you.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s a privilege to have a place to call your own. Somewhere untainted by others, by the constant interruption of housekeepers or room service carts.”
“Traffic and honking horns.”
“Exactly.”
“Then... why?”
“Why what?” he asks, amused.
“Well, you clearly turn your nose up at luxury,” I point out. “But you’re staying at the Plaza now. Why?”
“Well, after this summer’s tour, we could afford it,” he says as we walk. “The girls wanted to have some fun and treat themselves for Halloween, and I am utterly incapable of denying them whatever they want, so...” He shrugs, his hands tied.
I smile. “You really care about them.”
“They’re my girls,” he answers. “The only family I’ve got. I’d do anything for them.”
I study his profile, sensing no lies. Only truth. Only an extreme loyalty that comes with relying on the same people for so long. It reminds me of Knox and the others, of everything we’ve done for each other throughout the years.
If my brother knew I was here with Logan freakin’ Shock right now...
Dead Katrina walking.
I shake it off, looking up as we enter an empty crosswalk. Across the street, behind a chain-link fence, sits an old wooden playground with a large castle-like structure in the middle. Rope ladders and a rickety bridge. Swings and stationary horses. Memories instantly rise to the surface, spurred by the smell of woodchips and fresh cut grass.
“What?” Logan asks beside me.
I whip my head toward him. “What?”
“You just started smiling all of a sudden.”
“Oh.” I exhale softly, feeling it on my lips. “I was just... thinking about the other reason I live in this neighborhood.” I gesture across the street toward the park. “They built that when I was little. Seven, eight years old, maybe. I’ll never forget the first time I saw it. My mother brought me with her to go to the farmer’s market one day. There were kids everywhere, running up and down the ladders, across the bridge, and it looked like the funnest thing in the world, but...” I sigh. “Mom said no. Little girls aren’t supposed to run around and play like that.”
Logan halts on the sidewalk. “What?”
I stop, my stomach curling when I realize what I said was extremely not normal. “Oh. Right.” I flash a smile. “So, I was raised in a cult.”
Logan blinks.
“Nothing too weird or crazy. Well, maybe a little. Mostly, it was one of those hyper-religious communes cut off from the world in the middle of the desert sorts of things. My parents ran it, along with a few other... families...” I let the words fall off as I gauge Logan’s reaction; a mix of bewildered confusing and surprise. “Is that too weird? Sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything?—”
“No, no,” he says. “I’m just still a little hung up on the little girls aren’t meant to run and play part, if you could back up to that bit.”
I nod, taking a breath before explaining. “Girls are— were —meant for the home,” I say. “We don’t run. We don’t play. We tend to our chores and we do as we’re told.”
Logan hums. “And what do boys do?”
“Pretty much whatever they want.” I shrug. “When my mother and I returned home that day, I told Knox about the playground I saw.”
I cast a glance at it behind the fence, the sight of it still making me smile even given the years of neglect and disrepair.
“He told me not to mention it to anyone else,” I say. “I thought he was going to get me in trouble or something, but then one night he came into my room. Told me to grab my jacket and shoes. We sneaked out of the house and there was this BMX bike—I still have no idea where he got it from, but it was there.”
I smile, Logan hanging on every word I’m saying.
“I remember being so scared, but Knox told me it would be okay. Just hold on. Don’t let go. He peddled us all the way into the city, to here.” I gesture at the playground again. “It was the first time I’d ever... played . That I can remember, anyway. I ran back and forth across the bridge for what felt like hours until my lungs felt like they were going to burst out of my chest. It was... the best night of my life. Then, our parents came, and they took us back home. I was locked in my room. Knox was punished. And... I didn’t see him again for six months.”
I study Logan once again, wondering what he’s thinking. Wondering what the hell I’m thinking in telling him about this.
“Sorry,” I say. “I know you didn’t ask for the parade of baggage that is my former life.”
“I did, actually,” Logan says, stone-faced.
“Still.” I exhale hard. “Anyway, that’s why I live here. Knox has the high rise, though.”
“He seems the type, yes.”
I continue forward, half expecting Logan to ease back and bolt at the first opportunity, but he moves forward with me instead, walking side-by-side with me down the sidewalk, his arm casually brushing against mine as we go.
“I was raised in a cult, too,” he says.
I blink in surprise. “What? No way.”
“Well, not technically, I suppose.” He shrugs. “Army brat.”
“Oh.” I laugh. “In some ways, that qualifies, too.”
“Lived on military bases my whole life. Never allowed to go anywhere. Yes, sir. No, sir.” He snorts. “Felt like I was being groomed the whole time.”
“Me, too,” I murmur.
“But infinitely easier to escape from in the end, I imagine. All it took was telling my father I wasn’t enlisting. The next morning, he tossed a duffel bag and a train ticket at my feet. Told me to get out.”
“And your mother?” I ask, curious.
“She watched.”
I nod. “Sounds familiar.”
“But it wasn’t all bad!” he adds. “That train ticket led me to New York City. I met Goldie three days later.”
“That’s good!”
“That’s fate,” he says. “Defying my birthright put me exactly where I was meant to be. Same as you.”
“Criminal Records,” I say in agreement.
“No.” He scoffs. “Tonight. Here. On stage with The Electrics.”
“That wasn’t fate, Logan,” I say. “That was you pulling me up there when you knew I couldn’t say no.”
“I emphatically disagree.” He notices my glare. “With the first part. The second part is accurate. We should do it again.”
“No.”
“Why not? You had fun. You said it was fun.”
“It was fun,” I agree. “Doesn’t mean we should make a habit of it.”
“Why not?” he asks, sounding… genuinely disappointed.
I chortle as I turn us onto my street. “Our bands are rivals,” I remind him.
“Right. But we’re friends. I thought we cleared that part up already.”
I arch a brow. “What are you really doing here, Logan?”
He arches one right back. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” I say, taking another breath to steady myself because I can already feel that phantom tug, that lingering urge to fall right into his eyes. “What are you really doing in Vegas?”
“You think I’ve been less than truthful?” he asks.
“I think I’d be foolish not to assume a degree of foul play here.”
Logan drops his jaw. “Katrina, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“So you just happened to book a room at the Plaza the same weekend of Jonah’s wedding?” I ask.
“If I could have convinced the girls to go elsewhere, I would have, but Tesla likes blue shit and Goldie likes... well, gold shit. Add in the Halloween decor and parties galore, and I had no choice. And we had to be here anyway.”
“For the Battle of the Bands?”
Logan sighs, leading to a light groan of disappointing. “Yeah. Only a matter of time before one of us brought that up, eh?”
I cross my arms and wait.
“We had a gig,” he says. “Tonight. You were there! You saw it.”
“That’s the only reason you’re here?”
Logan pauses, his eyes fixed to mine. “What other reason is there?” he asks, canting his head to one side, making the question feel more like bait than a genuine inquiry.
“I don’t know,” I say. “But given our history, one may assume that there may be some... nefarious purpose.”
“Nefarious?”
“Sinister. Wicked.”
“I know what it means.” His lips curl. “Just not a word one hears very often. You think I’m here to pull off something sinister or wicked, then?”
“Are you?”
“No,” he answers, unblinking. “I’m not. I understand why you’d think that, but it’s not true. I’m here to reward my girls for a tour well done, play a satisfying gig—mission accomplished tonight, thanks to you. And sure, I’m here to practice and perfect a few new songs so come Halloween night, I can once again reward my girls with everything their heart desires because when we win, we’ll officially be free to do whatever we damn well please.”
My brow stays arched. “If you win,” I correct.
His smile grows, but his stay locked on mine. “When we win,” he says again. “With Paul Monroe out of the picture, our contract with Sugar Sound isn’t as locked as it was before.”
“It’s not?”
“It expires soon. End of the month, actually,” he says. “But we win the Battle of the Bands against Criminal fucking Records and we can sign just about anywhere we want. We have a lot riding on this, more so than you do, and I’m not saying that for your pity or your mercy. It’s just fact.”
I pause, the weight on his shoulders far more noticeable now.
“And don’t think that anything I’ve done tonight is to influence you in some... nefarious way,” he adds, his gaze falling to the sidewalk. “Is it really so strange that I simply enjoy the pleasure of your company?”
I consider a moment, allowing the stiffness to melt off my shoulders as I let my arms unwind and drop to my sides. “No,” I say, then… “Maybe.”
“How do I know you’re on the up and up? Mm?” Logan asks. “For all I know, you could be here trying to sabotage my band.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I don’t think so. Here you are, showing up at my hotel room. Coming to our show.”
“You gave me your room key!” I argue. “And you put that flyer in my dress pocket!”
Logan smirks. “Prove it.”
I glare. He winks.
We reach my house and I angle us down the sidewalk across the lawn
“I had a good time tonight,” he says as we step up onto the porch. “Didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I answer. “You guys put on a good show.”
“We should do it again sometime.”
“No.”
“Oh, come on! We sound good together, kitty. You know it. I know it. A hundred people in that bar tonight know it, too. Believe me when I say that kind of musical chemistry doesn’t come along every day.”
“Musical chemistry,” I echo.
His eyes travel down, grazing my lips for a long moment before moving back up to meet mine. “Well, I wasn’t sure if I should mention the other kind, but since you brought it up...”
“I didn’t bring it up.”
“So, we both agree,” he says teasingly. “There’s an it.”
I swallow hard, knowing that I should turn away. Say goodnight. Go inside and lock the door behind me. But the truth in his words holds me in place. My stomach turns somersaults when we’re together. I felt it the morning I woke up in his bed. I felt it later that night in his hotel room.
There’s something here, something that shouldn’t be—that can’t be.
He’s the enemy.
Logan hovers close, the porch light casting shadows over his face, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and long eyelashes. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” he whispers.
“Oh, uh...” My breath quivers in my chest. “Thank you.”
“And... every night, honestly,” he says. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
A laugh bursts from my throat. “I don’t know about that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m...”
My tongue goes limp in my mouth, my words failing me as Logan moves even closer. His fingertips graze my cheek, forcing my eyes up to his again, and I go near catatonic as I feel his thumb rub across my bottom lip.
“You’re what, kitty?” he whispers, his voice low and smooth as velvet. “Perfect? I think so, too.”
“No, I’m... I have...”
“Been wanting to kiss me since the moment we met?” he asks, his voice teasing, but his eyes are very serious. “Me, too.”
“No. Well, yes. Maybe. I—I?—”
“Katrina.”
“What?”
Logan pushes in, his lips colliding with mine. I lurch backward in surprise, but my back is already flush against my front door. His kiss burns a hole through me, pinning me in place, and I know that I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to.
Logan breaks the kiss first, his face stricken in his own internal game of tug of war. He wants to pull away. He’s going to pull away unless...
I kiss him back. I latch onto his jacket, pulling him closer as his arm curls around my back, holding me against him, pushing us hard against the door as he crushes my lips again and again.
I wrap my arms around his neck, unable to stop, unable to deny that damn tether for a moment longer. The world fades around us, and with it, the weight of the last while. My loneliness. My heartache. In the span of a kiss, it’s gone. In the space between us, I find something more. Something better. Something?—
Wrong.
But it feels so right.
I let go of any control I still have, wondering if I ever had any in the first place.
“Logan,” I whisper, taking a breath. “Do you want to come in?” I ask, my skin heated, my nerves crackling with fire.
His lips curl against mine. “Yes, I do. I very much want to, but... I won’t.”
My chest grips as he slips out of my grasp, taking a half-step away from me. “Why not?” I ask.
“Because you’re lovesick,” he says. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“That’s not...” I step back, my spine fusing with the front door, the ache of rejection in my stomach. “That’s not true.”
“I don’t mind being used, kitty,” Logan says, that sly confidence squaring his shoulders. “In fact, I rather enjoy it from time to time.” He stares me down. “But at least do me the respect of being honest about it.”
“You think I’m just kissing you to get over Jonah?” I ask, my throat tight.
“I think I’ve made my feelings here quite clear,” he replies, steady and wise. “You haven’t.”
I look down, my head swimming, unable to piece thought after thought together. What am I doing here? Why am I kissing Logan Shock? Is it because I really wanted to? Or was it really just to numb the pain?
And why did I just invite Logan inside like that’s something I do all the time, and not a serious fucking choice?
Oh, god.
I almost just...
With Logan Shock.
“It’s all right, kitty,” Logan says, his voice a gentle purr. “Take your time. Figure out what you want. Trust me, when you do, I’ll be curled up at the foot of your bed like a loyal pup. But, until then...” He lays a soft kiss on my forehead. “Goodnight, kitty.”
He steps back, his hands and body falling away from mine. I lock my knees, forcing myself to remain upright as he hops off the porch and walks back toward the sidewalk.
I shake off the lump in my throat. “Goodnight, Logan,” I say, my quivering voice so low and pathetic.
But Logan gives me a warm smile before he turns around and continues back toward the bar.