Blue Desire (14 page)

Maybe
they’d have one of those relationships where they’d be lovers when she was in
town. Devious Dave had a girl in practically every major city, it seemed. If
they weren’t available when he was in town, he found someone new. Kat had
envied Dave’s free-wheeling approach to sex, but it wasn’t her. She was okay
with sex being casual, like in the clubs. She had given her relationship with
Angus a good effort, she felt, and if he had been willing to work on his temper
and his tendency to put her down, she would have kept at it, so serious worked
okay too. It was the in-between state that made her uncomfortable, and that was
what she had right now with Brett. No, she didn’t want him to be her boyfriend,
her
dom
, only when she was
in town.

“Penny for your thoughts?”
Brett asked as he
wound his way into Cindy’s subdivision.

“I
was just thinking”—
about the music
,
she’d been about to say, but she didn’t want to tell any more lies—“about all
sorts of things.
Including you.
When I have it figured
out, I’ll try to share, but things are moving pretty fast.”

He
nodded. “Yes, they are. And thank you for telling me.” He pulled up at the curb
in front of a split-level and put the car in park. “Have a good practice. I’ll
see you tonight at the concert and after.” He bent over to kiss her. It was
brief but sweet. Then he got out of the car.

She
didn’t immediately understand why, so she started to get out herself. He was
there with a hand to help her out. She laughed as she stepped to the sidewalk.
“I’m fine,” she said. “But that’s sweet.”

“Well,
I enjoy it. Next time, little kitty, let me get the door.”

Her
heart sped up. The drive and lunch had been pleasant, but they’d lacked the
erotic charge that came from his dominant ways. She’d only agreed to submit
overnight, and he’d observed that boundary perhaps too well. “Yes, Sir,” she
said, marveling that she could say the words and have them sound so natural.

“Good
kitty.” He kissed her again. His approval and the way he expressed it made her
tummy flutter.

She
kissed back and then said, “See
ya
,” and ran for
Cindy’s door. If she spent one more minute in his presence, he would be all she
could think about, and she needed to concentrate on her music. Last evening’s
improvisation was a total head rush, but this afternoon she and Cindy would
have to polish it. She knew now they were not going to end up sounding very
much like
Kradle
at all.

Cindy
opened the door. “Bert called. Says he’s going to be three hours late.
Girlfriend trouble.”

Kat
shrugged. She had doubts he’d fit into the new sound anyway. “Good thing we
know we can do without him, isn’t it?”

Cindy
grinned. “You were on fire last night. I never heard anything like it.”

“
We
were on fire. I’ll give him a call
and tell him he’s fired, so he doesn’t have to make the trip.”

Cindy
nodded her approval and then said, “I have some ideas about how we can do what
we did last night better.
If that’s not stepping out of
line.”

“Hell,
we need all the ideas we can get.” Kat put her arm around Cindy. “Let’s go to
the garage, and you can show me. We’re breaking new ground here.”

For
the next three hours Kat and Cindy were completely absorbed. Each time they ran
through the songs, they sounded better. They figured out how many times to loop
the bass lines. They turned up the tempo on a few of the slower songs, making
them more danceable. Most of Kat’s material for
Kradle
had been straight on and fast anyway, the frenetic pace only possible due to
the shortness of the songs. Now they were extended, but Kat and Cindy could be
quiet and let the bass play for stretches.

“White
Stripes meets 4 Strings,” Cindy called it.

“Between
the two, we can alienate almost everyone,” Kat had replied, even though she
loved the sound they were making.

“We
didn’t alienate the crowd last night. They stayed. And they’ve been telling
their friends all day. We’re going to be swamped.”

Cindy’s
optimism was contagious, and Kat met her grin with one of her own.

Amy
walked in, holding a phone. “Hey. You guys are sounding awesome.”

“Were
we too loud?” asked Cindy.

Amy
kissed Cindy on the lips. “You, my love, are never too loud.” She turned to Kat
and offered her the phone. “Phone’s for you. I think it’s that jerk from
yesterday.”

Brett?
Brett wasn’t a jerk. She had the phone in her grasp before she realized that
Amy probably meant Angus. By then it was too late to give it back. Amy had turned
her attention back to kissing Cindy, and even though Kat had no interest in
women in that way, the love in their eyes made her jealous.

“This
is Kat,” she said into the phone.

“Kat.
Angus. Listen, I don’t know what kind of music that is
you’re making, and it’s none of my business, but you can’t use my songs in your
show.”

How
had Angus gotten Cindy’s number? Cindy had been in the DC music scene for a
while, and Angus had connections. It was as if he was sending her a message.
I can find you anywhere
. “They are my
songs, Angus. I wrote them.”

“I
co-own the copyright. Of course, you could come back to the band.
And to me.”

“You
think I’d sleep with you again after that kind of threat? Not that I would
anyway.”

“Meet
me after the show, Kat, and we’ll talk about it.
Just the two
of us.
There’s a bar around the corner called Vertigo. Be there at
twelve thirty, or my lawyer will talk to your lawyer.”

He
hung up.

Kat
sighed. She had every legal right to play the songs she’d written. The problem
was Angus had cash on hand right now, and she didn’t. Part of the reason for
that, of course, was that he hadn’t paid her royalty money and probably
wouldn’t unless she got a lawyer to force his hand. Maybe the record company
could be convinced to pay her directly, but that too would take a lawyer. But
without money, how was she going to get one? It was a catch-22.

She
didn’t want to go meet with Angus. She wanted to go home with Brett. How would
she explain it to him, anyway?
Oh, I’m
going to meet with my old boyfriend, the guy who punched you last night
.
That would go over very well. She’d have to think of something.
A lie.
She took a deep breath.
No,
something that wasn’t a lie.
But she had no choice but to try to talk to
Angus. Her entire life’s work was at stake. At least the place he’d suggested
meeting was a public place. That wouldn’t stop Angus from making an unpleasant
scene, but she’d be physically safe. She just had to be mentally tough.
I can do it.

“I’ve
got music stuff after the show. Can I take a rain check for tomorrow?”

There
was something Kat wasn’t telling him. He could tell from the way she didn’t
quite meet his eyes. The problem was that she was supposed to be onstage in five
minutes, so he didn’t have time to sort it out with her. The loud, canned
techno playing in the club didn’t make it any easier to hold a serious
conversation. He’d have to call her on it later.

“Can
you take a date?” he asked, trying to keep his voice light, despite the sinking
feeling in his stomach and having to raise his voice to be heard over the
music. He took a moment to admire her curves. She looked fantastic in tight
black jeans and high-heeled black boots. Her tank top was artfully ripped on the
side of the chest to reveal a pink bra. Part of him wanted her to cover up.
Part of him was enjoying the view.

Kat
shook her head. “Not this time!” she yelled back.

“Will
you want help with your stuff later?”

“Nah.
Cindy’s really into girl power. Best let us take care of it
ourselves.”

Brett
nodded. He’d sort it out later. Right now he wanted her to go on the stage
knowing she had his support. They weren’t, he supposed, at a place where that
would mean a whole lot to her, not yet. But it still seemed right to give it.
Possibly he was a temporary fling for her, but he thought he’d gotten to her in
a way she hadn’t expected. If so, the feeling was mutual.

“Go
knock ’
em
dead, then. I’ll be listening, and I’ll see
you tomorrow night at my place.”

“It’s
a date!” Kat kissed him and made her way through the crowd toward the stage,
quickly disappearing in the midst of a sea of mostly taller bodies. The place
was packed. Brett had a good memory for faces, and he could see a number of
people had returned from the night before. The crowd had mixed more too. There
wasn’t an obvious divide of ravers on the left, punks on the right. Behind him,
the bouncer was turning people away. Brett was glad he’d gotten there early.

He
spotted a familiar flash of purple hair, and sure enough, it was Lisa. Where
Lisa was, Darren could not be far away, and as expected, he was right next to
her. Brett headed over that way.

“I
thought you didn’t like this kind of thing,” Brett said.

“I
had to see what you were raving about,” said Darren. “Besides, Lisa wanted to
come, and she can be very persuasive when she wants to be.” He grinned. “And I
enjoy her persuasion.”

Lisa
smiled sweetly. Brett chuckled. He could imagine, and he’d rather not. He’d
miss Katrina in his bed tonight, which was crazy after only having her there
once. He’d been very much looking forward to making love to her again. He
completely understood if her
bandmate
wanted to bask
in the
aftershow
glow, however, and the two obviously
worked well together. It was a relationship to nurture. Brett didn’t think he
was jealous, exactly; he just wanted what he wanted.

Katrina.

Cindy
walked out onstage first, followed by Kat, and the crowd cheered before even a
note was played. The ones who had been there last night were the most enthusiastic,
but everyone else joined in because they were part of the mob. Under the
lights, Kat soaked it up. He had never seen anyone who was so exactly where
they needed to be.

Kat
flicked a switch, and the drum machine started its insistent beat. Another, and
a bass line started. The crowd began to move, swaying at first,
then
starting to dance. There wasn’t a lot of room to dance,
but people were doing it anyway, accepting the jostling bodies of strangers as
part of the ambience. Cindy’s guitar came in with a lovely melody over the
insistent beat. Then Kat started singing, and everyone was caught up in it.
Even, Brett noticed, his buddy Darren.

A
blue light flickered across the stage and caught the torn tank top Kat was
wearing. The blue tint reminded him of how she’d fit the corset. It had been
exactly right for her, as if he’d custom made it for her figure, and that was
pure accident. The way she looked when he’d cinched her in had clinched it.
He’d wanted to give it to her, but giving expensive gifts on a one-night stand
was a good way to get slapped. He didn’t care about getting slapped, exactly;
it was the notion that he might make her feel bad enough to slap him that had stopped
him. He wanted things to go right, which meant he’d have to be patient.

He
moved back to where he could get a better view. He was tall enough he could see
over the crowd with ease. The most amazing thing was the look on Kat’s face as
she commanded the beat. Her performance was different from last night, full of
confidence. He’d had women tell him that a night with him was the best night of
their
life, that
an intense play session made them
feel as good as they ever felt. He wasn’t sure he believed them entirely, but
he believed they believed it. Kat would never tell him that, not truthfully
anyway. Right there, onstage, she was in an ecstasy that couldn’t possibly be
faked, and as much as she liked the corset or the flogging or the sex, she was
in heaven
now
. It was daunting in a
way. He couldn’t compete with it.

But
he didn’t need to compete. He could be there for her when she was off stage,
when she needed to let it all go and not be in control anymore. And when she
was onstage, he could enjoy her happiness.

He
looked around, his old cop instincts making him wonder if Angus would show up
again, but there was no sign of the other man. Even Kat’s music couldn’t stop
him from noticing a drug deal going down in a dark corner of the room, a small
pack of white powder exchanged for a few folded-up bills. Brett pitied anyone
who needed help getting high in this atmosphere. The crowd was revved up; the
music was loud and brilliant. It was not, however, his problem. He noted the
participants and resolved to keep an eye out for them. Molly users were pretty
tame most of the time, but white powder could be a lot of things.
Including occasionally baking soda, if the seller wasn’t looking
for repeat business.
The mousy young male who had pocketed the money
slipped out of the club shortly after, which could mean a lot of things.
Possibly all it meant was that he sold out his stock.