Static (15 page)

"I liked her. She was a cool chick," Thane said then
stood, brushing the pizza crust crumbs from his black jeans. He
picked up the bottle of beer sitting in front of him on the coffee
table and took a sip. "Well, thanks for the pizza and beer. I'll
let you get back to
it
." He winked.

I stood in the bedroom doorway and watched,
transfixed, as Thane left the hotel room. Then my gaze shifted to
Trevor. He had yet to move. He still stood in the middle of the
room his hands fisted at his sides. His knuckles were turning
white.

My heart ached from him.

"Did Thane—,"

"Don't." Like a cold front, he moved about the room,
trailing a bitter wind in his wake. He paced back and forth,
clenching and unclenching his hands repeatedly.

I wanted to go to him, to soothe him somehow, but I
knew he'd snap at me. "Is that why you want to kill them so
bad?"

He stopped in his tracks and glared at me. I
shuddered from the menacing look he gave me. Like he could rip out
my throat without breaking a sweat. "I don't want to talk about
it."

"Damn it, Trevor. You need to tell me. You want my
help, right? Well, I need to know what the hell's really going on.
I left my whole life behind for you."

He frowned. "What?"

I realized my blunder, and shook my head, stuttering
to keep from being even more embarrassed than I already was. "I
mean, not for you, but, you know because of you. Because you said I
should," I finished in a rush.

Instead of responding, he stalked toward the sofa,
and sat down. He hung his head and ran his hands back and forth
through his hair. He looked like a caged animal desperate to be
free.

Trevor had that kind of crazed wild look in his eyes.
The one that said sanity had taken a permanent leave of
absence.

Cautious but determined to get some answers, I moved
back into the living room and sat on the chair that he had
previously occupied. Self-conscious, I pulled down the t-shirt so
it covered my knees.

His head came up to look at me. I kept his gaze
wanting him to know that I wasn't going to back down but also that
I cared about his pain. I hated to see that kind of raw emotion in
anyone. It crushed my soul just to know it existed.

"I need to know, Trevor. I'm tired of maneuvering in
the dark. I've been doing it for over a week now, and I don't think
I can take it anymore."

Sighing, he wiped his hand once more through his hair
then leaned back against the sofa cushions. His leg bounced up and
down as he stared down at his hands in his lap.

"Reagan was my twin sister."

I could feel the tears burning in the back of my eyes
and throat as he spoke. I could hear the pain rippling through his
voice. A pain I hoped to never experience.

"She was cool for a sister. Did lots of guy stuff. We
hung out quite a bit, shared the same style, taste in music, even
friends." He paused, licked his lips, and then continued. "Over two
years ago, we went to a gig together of some band we'd heard a bit
about. A friend of ours was hooked on them. They were called
Razorwire then."

"Wait minute. I remember Razorwire." I blinked back
the shock I was feeling. "Didn't they die in a plane crash like
almost two years ago?"

Trevor shook his head. "That's how they've survived
so long without drawing a lot of attention to themselves. Faking
deaths, changing identities."

"But the guys from Malice don't even look like the
members of Razorwire. And if I remember correctly they had a female
lead singer not a guy."

"They're like chameleons. Able to change and adapt to
any situation. They can shift their shapes to suit any
purpose."

I shivered. That creeped me out big time. I wondered
if they could shift genders. That would be just plain freaky and
not something I wanted to really dwell on at the moment.

"Okay, so what happened?"

"We got backstage passes and went back to party with
the band. Why not right? I mean rock band parties are legendary. I
wanted to experience that. Reagan didn't want to go. But I
convinced her it would be the shit, you know. We drank, got high
and partied hard, just like we were supposed to, but what I got,
what we both got, was something out of a nightmare."

I nodded knowing perfectly well what he was talking
about. It was a nightmare that would never end.

"Devon was smoking hot, you know. Of course she was
going by the name Violet at the time and she looked a lot different
than she does now. She had really big—,"

I put my hand up. "Yeah, I get it."

"I wanted her big time. And I had her. Just not in
the way I was hoping for. I woke up the next day, hung over, sore
as hell, and like this." He held out his arms to the sides.

"What about your sister?"

"She hooked up with Thane. He was Perry, the drummer
then, but he still had that allure he possesses now. Makes it hard
to resist."

"I know."

"Right." He nodded, then rubbed his mouth with the
back of his hand. "I remember waking up the next day alone in the
hotel room we'd gone to. I immediately grabbed my cell phone and
called Reagan. But she didn't answer. I went out of the room,
walked down the hall and came upon another room, the door open. I
peered inside and saw Thane, Devon and the rest of them standing
over the bed, arguing about something. Curious, I walked in."

My heart leapt into my throat. Images from my
experience flashed in my mind. I remembered those faces looking
down at me while I'd been naked on the bed, sucked dry. But what
they hadn't realized was that I had still been alive.

Obviously, Reagan hadn't been as lucky.

"When I saw her on the bed, eyes closed, I didn't
know what to do. I remember rushing to the bed to check on her, but
Devon grabbed my arm hard. Sometimes I can still feel the pressure
of her hand around my bicep. She's a lot stronger than she
looks."

He glanced at me, then back down to his hands
fidgeting in his lap. I wanted to go to him, but I wasn't sure if
he'd appreciate the gesture or loathe me for it. He was impossible
to read. And I didn't want to make a mistake with him, not now when
his pain was so open and raw, bleeding out all over the room.

His grief was so palpable; I could feel it skim the
surface of my skin. Goose bumps rose on every part of my body.

"I knew she was dead. I could feel it all the way
down to my bones." He shivered. "I attacked Thane, I remember that
clearly. But he was so strong it didn't take much for him to knock
me unconscious. I woke up hours later in my own bed at home,
disoriented, confused. I got up and went looking for Reagan,
thinking maybe I had dreamed everything. But she wasn't there."

"Hours later, the cops showed up. I guess my mom put
out a missing person's report on her, which surprised me because I
didn't think she gave a shit about either us. Anyway, I told the
cops what had happened and they went to speak to the band. I was
sure they would find her body and arrest Thane. But they returned
that night with other plans." He jumped up then from the sofa
startling me. "I'm thirsty. Do you want a drink? I need a drink."
He wandered into the kitchenette and opened the compact
refrigerator. "I'm having a beer, do you want one?"

"Yeah, sure." I wasn't much of a beer drinker, but I
needed something, anything to calm my nerves. Trevor's story had me
on edge. I couldn't imagine what he'd gone through.

He came back, with two beers. He twisted the top off
both, handed one to me, then sat back down on the sofa. I watched
as he took a long pull, draining nearly half the bottle. I took a
small sip and set the beer on the table, settling back in for the
rest of his story. Although it broke my heart in pieces, I needed
to hear the rest. And I think deep down he really needed to tell
it, especially to someone that wouldn't think he was nuts.

"The cops didn't find the body?" I asked.

He shook his head. "They didn't find anything. Not
even the band. There wasn't even a record of them ever playing at
the club we'd been at."

"Really? How could that be?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, but that's how it went
down. Then they took me in and questioned me for hours."

"Oh, my God Trevor, did they think you..."

"Yup. They thought I killed her and stuffed the body
somewhere."

I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to go to him. The
anguish on his face and voice twisted me in half. Without a word, I
moved over to the sofa and sat beside him. Not close enough that we
were touching, but near enough if he wanted me to, I could reach
for him. He glanced at me briefly as I settled in beside him, but
he didn't make an effort to move away.

"Did they arrest you?"

He shook his head and took another pull on the beer.
"They didn't get a chance. The minute I was released from
questioning, I packed my shit and took off."

"Where did you go?"

"I traveled a bit up and down the west coast,
panhandling and working odd jobs for money. I hit San Fran, L.A.,
but it wasn't until I hit San Diego that I noticed something really
wrong. The changes didn't happen to me as fast as they did you. It
wasn't until after a good two weeks that I knew something was wrong
with me. Not until I met MJ and put her into a coma."

He drained the rest of his drink, stood and went back
into the kitchen to get another. After twisting the cap, he walked
back into the living room. "After that happened, I sought Razorwire
out to find out what the hell was wrong with me. I caught up with
them in Salt Lake City of all places. I got drunk and attacked them
at the club they were playing." He paused taking another drink and
glanced down at his feet as if he was picturing the whole thing
over again. "They could've killed me right there and then, they are
so much stronger and faster, but instead they offered me a job. To
be one of their roadies. So I thought about that saying ‘Keep
your friends close, and your enemies closer' to find a way to kill
them."

I reached for him, setting my hand on his shoulder. I
squeezed, letting him know I was there. "I'm so sorry, Trevor. It
must've been awful for you to go through all of that."

He shrugged off my hand and glared at me. "I don't
need your sympathy."

Taken back, I met his gaze, my mouth agape. "You're a
jerk, you know that? I wasn't trying to give you sympathy, but, I
don't know, be a friend."

"I don't need you to be my friend."

"What do you need from me, then?"

"To help me find a way to kill them."

I shook my head, and put my hands up in frustration.
What I really wanted to do was strangle him. He was so
exasperating. "Why me? Why not someone else? I'm sure there are
other better qualified people to help you murder four people, well,
not people I guess, but things."

"Because you're the first girl I've met to ever
survive the transition."

Chapter 17

That little bomb propelled me to my feet. "What?"

"As far as I can tell, you're the first girl to
survive. All the others over the years have died, tossed away just
like you'd been." He shrugged. "There are a few other guys turned
that I know of, a couple of the security dudes, but not any girls.
They don't usually like to leave left-overs."

"So, that's like, what, the only reason you were
stalking me? Because I was an even bigger freak than you?" I paced
the room, anger fueling every step.

"Hey, I wasn't stalking you."

I frowned at him. "Please. You showed up outside my
bedroom window, in the bathroom when I was using it, which is like
gross to begin with, and then—,"

"Then, I saved you from killing some poor dude who
had the bad sense in wanting to date you."

I gaped at him.

"And I didn't hear one thank you, about that. Not
one."

"Thank you?" I shrieked. "You want me to thank you?
For what? For showing me what a big freak I am, or for making me
leave everything I've ever known. Making me a fugitive with no
future whatsoever.
I was shaking with fury, but deep down I sensed something else was
happening as well. It wasn't until Trevor's eyes widened and he
started to laugh that I realized I didn't have my feet firmly
planted on the ground.

My stomach flipped over as I bounced up and down in
the air like an un-tethered hot-air balloon. "Get me down!" I
reached for Trevor but all I did was dog paddle comically through
the air.

He laughed, again. Actually, he hadn't really stopped
laughing. "Oh my God." He snickered. "Don't do that again. I'll
bust my gut."

"Quit laughing, and help me." I made another attempt
to grab him. But it didn't work. I just bobbed up in the air. My
butt touched the ceiling and I bounced back down again.

Tears of frustration stung my eyes. I didn't want
them to fall. I really didn't need Trevor seeing me cry again. He
obviously already thought I was a dork. Crying over it wasn't going
to change his mind.

He met my gaze and I saw something in those dark eyes
shift. He stopped laughing. Reaching up, he gripped my hand and
pulled me down until my feet were able to touch the rug. He wrapped
his arms around me, to keep me there.

"We're going to have to fix it so you stop sticking
to the ceilings. It's becoming a very bad habit."

Unshed tears still stung my eyes, but I managed to
look him in the face. I could see the sincerity there. But I could
also see a spark of humor. My lips twitched in response and then I
started to laugh. I could just imagine what I looked like bobbing
up and down in the air, like a buoy in the water. I laughed so hard
that the tears finally streamed down my cheeks.

I laughed and laughed and laughed until I was empty.
Then I became hyper aware that I was still in Trevor's arms. The
heat from his body warmed me. This was no small feat, considering I
was standing there in a t-shirt that just covered my butt and a
pair of shocking red panties.