Strung Out (Needles and Pins #1) (9 page)

“Not all day.” He mumbled the protest. Is that what she was doing with it? Watching it? That was intriguing… And then it hit him. Seth hadn’t been putting on an act in the media room—
Scar
 had been watching the Playboy channel. “It’s not a big deal. You’re right. I was just surprised. But only because we grew up together. And it’s really different, seeing you now.”

“I understand completely.” Her stance relaxed, shoulders slumping some from their squared-off-to-battle-posture.

But more than that, he heard it in her tone again. The trace of… aversion. And when she talked on, he wanted only to shut her up.

“It’s been more than strange seeing you the way you are now. With the women and the shit going up your nose—”

Curving his fingertips beneath her chin, he rubbed his thumb over her lips, stifling the rest of whatever she was about to say. Because with every microfiber of his being, he was tired of hearing the disappointment in her voice. Seeing it in her gaze. His eyes fell closed for a second, and he reopened them to an entirely different view.

Standing before him wasn’t a disappointed sister. Standing before him was a beautiful woman, and if he was correctly interpreting the new look in her eyes, she was wet from more than the pool. Her throat moved with a gulp, and he sensed her ‘surrender-versus-scram’ moment.

His phone beeped with an incoming text, and when he automatically looked that way, she took the opportunity to escape. Letting her and the magic of the moment go, he waded back to his cell while calling casually after her, “Rockin’ Reilly’s tomorrow?”
Back on track, boy
.

“Yeah.” She turned and paused for a second. “Oh wait. Crap. I’m supposed to meet Colt tomorrow. I don’t know what I was thinking. You were right. I shouldn’t have said I’d go. I’m here to find Ivy.”

Words he’d have given anything to hear her say the other night. Yet now with the singe of her lush lips still on the callused pad of his thumb, seeing her with someone else was probably exactly what he needed. “Why don’t you get Colt to take you there? To Rockin’ Reilly’s. After all, you just need to see if she’s there or not, right?”

“Right.” She smiled, but the curve of her lips seemed stiff.

Turning his attention to the text, he read, and then re-read the next clue in Ivy’s search.

His instinct was to blurt it out. But when he looked up, she’d disappeared beyond the confines of the house, and he was glad he hadn’t.

Tipping the wine bottle to his lips, he took a glug. He sincerely hoped Rockin Reilly’s would come through, and they wouldn’t have to resort to the destination mentioned in the text. The house on Outpost was not somewhere he ever wanted to think about again.

T
he dark road twisted like a snake up the mountain. With each turn, my stomach knotted up more. Meeting Colt for our date was supposed to have been my way of maintaining a level of control. It was my habit with first dates—and sometimes the second and third if I let things go that far.

Date not going good?
Make an excuse and leave.
Don’t want a goodbye kiss?
Wave and jump in the car. Driving away solved most any uncomfortable moment.

But Colt had shown up at the house to drop Seth off and had talked me into riding with him. I couldn’t come up with an excuse to refuse him. Now, after an evening observing his suave, flirty behavior, I was sure he had intentionally foiled my plans to take my own car.

Colt was a hotter than sin rock star.
Like Gage
. His every move was sexy.
Like Gage
. The husky rumble of his voice tingled and tickled some very deep places.
Like Gage
. He was funny and fun.
Like Gage
.

So why did I want to run the other direction?
Because he’s a rock star
. They were disturbed. I knew that better than anyone did. My mother had never hidden the dirty details of my lineage.

In the dark confines of the car, I couldn’t see the tattoo on my wrist. But I could feel its presence.

My father, punk rock legend Tyler Conterra, had died of an overdose after a history of drug abuse. At less than two years old, I’d been too young to remember him—not that my parents had married or that he’d been around much according to my mother. What I
had
witnessed firsthand in later years was the ensuing montage of rocker boyfriends in and out of my mother’s life, each bringing along their own variety of destructive behavior and contributing to my mom’s alcohol and drug addictions. Gage’s father had been the only exception.

I tried to sneak a look at Colt, but he caught my assessment and curved a sexy grin. What was his vice? More importantly, I knew he had one, so why had I agreed to this date? Had my reasoning been as stupid and rebellious as Gage’s dark look and slight shake of his head when Colt had asked?

“Hey! Wasn’t that Gage’s house?” I was certain the gate whipping by my window had a winged dragon on it.

“I want to show you my place.”

“Oh, no!” My heart pounded. “Not tonight, thank you.”
Thank you?
“I’m really tired and… yeah, tired. Really tired.”

“Gage warned you away from me, didn’t he?”

“No. In fact, I was going to cancel, and he talked me into it.”

“Why were you going to cancel?” His lip actually jutted out in semblance of a toddler’s pout.

“Something came up. See, I’m here in L.A. to see a friend and…” I trailed off, unwilling to tell him about Ivy and unsure where to ramble with that vague fib. So I did what I always did when cornered. Attacked. “Why would he warn me away from you? Should I have been warned?”

The car idled off the narrow street, in a private drive. The headlights illuminated the resident’s closed gate. His brows drew together, and he swung the vehicle back into the road the way we had come. “I have a reputation for treating women like Kleenexes.”

“Use them and throw them away.” I nodded, knowing the term. “That kind of goes with the territory, right?”
Rock star debauchery
.

“See, you get it.” His frown disappeared, and his smile returned. We bantered back and forth as he punched in the gate code, the dragon gate swung open, and we cruised up the drive. His glower returned when I jumped from the car instead of leaning in for a kiss when he took my hand.

After coming and going for almost a week, I knew the code for the keypad and pushed open the large entry door. I did, however, politely wait for Colt to catch up before entering the foyer.

Rascal barked a greeting, and his paws clipped the polished floor, the sound coming closer and closer until he pranced before us. I bent to pet him before following him down the hall and descending the stairway behind him to the media room. Runner lights along each level of seating flashed on when I pushed open the door.

Seth was stretched across the lounger pad with pillows scattered around him. Gage was draped in one of the cushy chairs with one leg resting on a matching ottoman.

If the chase scene onscreen was any indication, they were in the middle of an action flick. Gage waved me over, but Colt’s voice boomed from behind me when I would have taken the seat next to him.

“Not corrupting my kid are you, Remington?” He moved into the room, holding the beer he’d apparently detoured by the kitchen for. “This guy leaves the Playboy channel on for kids looking for cartoons to find.”

“Dad, seriously? Anime is not cartoons.”

“And neither is what you were watching in here the other day.”

Realizing I must have been the one to leave the receiver on the channel, I burned with embarrassment.

Gage broke in, interrupting. “Chill, Colt. I said I was sorry. It won’t happen again.” He hadn’t paused the movie yet. Perhaps he was hoping it would deflect the discussion if it continued to play.

He had kept his eyes averted from me during the exchange. But when I straightened my spine and squared my shoulders, determined to set the record straight, his gaze landed on mine, and his chin moved ever so slightly in a negative shake.

Colt and Seth left almost immediately, and I was still standing when I turned to Gage. “You shouldn’t have taken the blame. You have to live here.”

“Well, you’re living here for now. And you’re right. It’s stupid, but it
is
more accepted for men to be into it.”

I felt a tug in my chest—a déjà vu of Gage in older brother protective mode. Like when he’d stepped in front of my screaming mother and lied, saying he and his friends had trashed the den.

“I brought you the rest of my burger. It was giant.” I crossed to him. “My fries too.” Dropping to the chair beside him, I crossed my legs comfortably and munched on the fries as he ate the hamburger.

“How did tonight go?”

“Okay. It was good to get out. But I wasn’t in the mood for a date. And I think that may have pissed Colt off.”

I suddenly had his full attention. “Why? What did he do?”

“Nothing. I just mean I think he had a date night planned, and then I insisted we go to Rockin’ Reilly’s instead of the sushi place. And I wouldn’t even dance with him.”

I was certain I saw the quirk of a smirk, but he took the last sweet potato fry from my fingers, broke it in half, and then gave one-half back to me. ”Any leads on Ivy?” His half disappeared between his lips.

Tearing my gaze from what became a borderline erotic moment—watching him chew—I shook my head. “She wasn’t there. And I managed to ask a couple of the employees but they didn’t know of her. Any ideas what we do next?”

“Yeah. But you’re not going to like it.”

“W
hat goes on in there?” I nervously eyed a tall wooden gate as Gage’s car rolled to a stop before it.

It rolled open, and a mansion-sized house sprawled down the mountain beyond. Instead of being lit up against the night like the cozy windows of neighboring houses, the stone structure seemed eerie.

“You wouldn’t believe—or maybe you would.” My chin snapped up, and his grip flexed on the wheel. “Sorry. That was out of line. I’m nervous as hell.”

“Can we just ask about her and get out?”

“You don’t have to go in. I can take you back home and come back myself.”

“No. I need to. What if she’s there under a different name or something? I’ll recognize her.”

As the gate swished closed behind us, a man approached the car. “Membership?”

Gage pulled up a screen on his phone and tilted it to the man.

“Great. Drive around to the side entrance.”

Gage rolled up the window. “Here goes.” He braked near the designated entrance.

Another man manifested beside my door and waited to open it. Gage was given a ticket as if it were valet parking for a swanky restaurant. I shivered with nervousness after alighting from the vehicle, and he put an arm around me, pulling me close. I sensed he needed the comfort as much as I did.

Once inside, we were greeted by a woman with heavy layers of makeup, dressed as conservatively as a senator. Right when I thought I’d misunderstood what this place was, two women passed through the room each outrageously dressed. Yep. Although private and discreet, this was a BDSM dungeon, or something similar. Both women openly appraised Gage with interest and the one carrying a whip even flicked it suggestively as she passed.

“Mr. Murdock.” The senator woman smiled. “Short notice but we can accommodate you.”

I refrained from eyeing him in surprise. I hadn’t been aware he’d made any arrangements ahead of time. And Murdock. I knew it was common for celebrities to choose aliases with meaning to them, and Daredevil had been the comic Gage had been most obsessed with when he was a preteen.

Most essential, what did ‘accommodate him’ mean?

After a few pleasantries as if the woman were the host of an elite social event, she consulted the electronic tablet in her hand. “I have a room for you. Anyone you’re interested in? I’ll do my best to make them available.”

“Ivy.” Gage had dropped his arm from me as we entered, but now he brushed his hand against mine.

“Ivy?” The woman frowned in confusion. “There’s no Ivy here.”

Equal parts relief and disappointment assailed my senses.