Klement frowned as more fans gathered backstage. He’d lost sight of Kat. She and Kinley had been talking earlier, radiating triumph after their encounter with that vapid blond reporter from Rocktalk. After her tacky post about Lefty’s death, Bleeding Vengeance would have nothing to do with that site anymore. He’d almost intervened when she first approached Kat and Kinley, but Kat handled her on her own.
From the way the reporter slunk off, he was dying to know what Kat had said.
So, where was she? He finally spotted Kinley with Quinn signing autographs, but Kat was still nowhere in sight.
He walked over to them. “Have you seen Kat?” he asked.
Quinn shook his head while Kinley answered, “She went to the bathroom to freshen up before you go on.” Her brows drew together. “But that was a while ago. I hope she’s okay. I know she’s really nervous. Sometimes when her anxiety is really high she”—Kinley leaned in close and whispered—“throws up.”
“I think I remember her telling me.” Klement longed to go after Kat and comfort her, but he didn’t want to embarrass her.
Kinley’s eyes widened. “Really? She’s never told anyone but me. She must trust you a lot.” She gave him a stern look. “Don’t fuck it up.”
He bit back a grin at her determination. “I’ll do my best not to.”
When he headed back to Rod, he noticed a group of fans gathered around the drummer. They lit up with hopeful smiles when he approached.
“Where’s Cliff?” a dreadlocked man asked after Klement signed his shirt.
Klement tamped down a pang of disappointment. It was perfectly natural for them to prefer the front man. When he looked around the room, he couldn’t see Cliff either.
Rod looked up from the woman’s breasts he was signing. “I haven’t seen him since he walked away from that tart reporter.”
“Where could he have gone?” Klement frowned.
“I haven’t seen Kat for a bit either.” Rod cocked his head to the side. “You don’t think he’s still trying to get in her knickers, do you?”
“No.” To his surprise, Klement was certain he wasn’t—and that Kat wouldn’t be interested in any man but him anyway. “Kinley said she’s in the bathroom and might be fighting off pre-show jitters.
“Maybe Cliff’s hiding from that guy he met at the bar who turned out to be a wanker,” Rod offered. “I think his name was Rick. Cliff gave him a backstage pass before he found out the guy was loony.”
Rick? Something about that name gave him pause. Then it hit him. Rick was short for Richard.
Dick.
“Oh, Christ.” Klement turned back to Rod. “Did you see the guy here?”
The drummer paused. “No, but then I was a little preoccupied here.” He nodded toward the breasts he had just finished signing.
“Fuck.” Klement’s gut churned. “I’d bet money that was Kat’s ex.”
He berated himself. Kat had been right when Cliff told them what kind of a skeevy pervert his new friend turned out to be. He sounds just like my ex, she’d said. And only a few nights before that, Klement had seen the son of a bitch when he and Kat had went out to The Hellion. If only Kat had spotted him and pointed him out. Sure, Klement might have ended up in jail for assault, but at least Kat and Cliff would be safe now.
Were they safe?
Rod’s lips twisted in confusion. “What? But that guy probably delivered a dead cat to Cliff and trolled him online. Why would he buddy up to him?”
“To get a backstage pass,” Klement guessed through clenched teeth. No wonder the Denver and Spokane police still hadn’t found Richard. The bastard had already been on the road to Wisconsin.
Rod’s jaw dropped. “Bloody hell.”
“You sure you haven’t seen him here?” Klement’s heart pounded in terror.
“No, but if he’s stalking Kat, he would stay out of sight, right? What do you think he has planned? Do you think he got to them yet?”
Klement didn’t know, but every one of his instincts screamed to find Kat and protect her from that psycho. “I hope not, but I’m going see if I can find them. You stay here and send someone to find me if they come back.”
“Okay. I hope you find them soon,” Rod said worriedly. “We’re supposed to be on for the sound check in a half hour.”
Klement strode off. The show was the last thing on his mind. Kat had better be safe. He couldn’t accept any other alternative.
***
Kat stared into the barrel of the gun. For an eternity her existence was narrowed to that abyss-like black hole. Klement, her heart cried. She wouldn’t even have the chance to tell him goodbye.
“I got you now, cunt,” the familiar, dreaded voice said. “And your pussy of a boyfriend, too.”
Her focus broadened to the face of the man holding the gun. And to the man behind him, who was duct-taped to a support beam. Cliff.
Kat’s gaze flicked back to her captor, confusion momentarily halting her fear. “Richard? What the fuck?”
“You fucked him when he played in Spokane!” Richard shrieked. “You cheated on me, you lying bitch.”
Cliff’s eyes widened with even more confusion. “Wwfff?” he mumbled through the duct tape over his mouth. He shook his head vigorously and strained against his bonds.
Richard pointed the gun at him. “Shut up!”
Kat brought Richard’s attention back to her. “No, I didn’t. That was a year ago. And I left that concert as soon as it was over because you kept texting me.” Self disgust washed over her for letting him manipulate her and berate her for so long. “I didn’t even have a backstage pass. The tour manager gave it to Kinley.”
“Bullshit!” Richard shouted. “Why the hell else would he hire you if you weren’t screwing him?”
Even with a gun pointed at her, she couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “Maybe because they like my guitar-playing? And Cliff didn’t hire me. Klement did.”
“The fag bassist?” Richard said skeptically.
A startled laugh escaped her throat. That whole Klement-is-gay thing? She had a wild urge to tell Richard exactly how and why he was wrong. But that would be a bad idea under the circumstances.
“You think this is funny?” he snarled, aiming the gun at her head.
“No. It’s not funny at all. Put the gun down, Richard.” She fought the quaver in her voice. “I didn’t cheat on you. And it’s a moot point because we broke up. Six months ago. You stalked me, fucked up my car and harassed a guy who had nothing to do with this. Don’t you think you’ve gotten sufficient revenge?”
As she listed off all the insane things he’d done, fury blazed through her. She wished she was like the sword-wielding video game character she’d been named after. Wait, not a sword. The game Katana had cool fans with blades in them. But, what? She forced her attention back to the present. Who knew she’d think of such random shit when facing death?
“No!” Richard waved his gun around, the whites of his eyes rolling like a lunatic’s. “You haven’t paid enough for leaving me, for making me chase you across the fucking country…” Spit flew out of his mouth as his rant gained acceleration. His insults and accusations blurred in Kat’s ears into nonsensical noise as they had before. Only, this time she wasn’t frozen in panic like an animal in a cage. No, he no longer had that power over her. Now she was infuriated. If she could just get the gun away from him…
Slowly, she edged closer, fists clenched and ready. Her heart thudded in her ears as she moved carefully like playing Red Light, Green Light when she was little.
Just as her arm swept up to knock the gun from his grasp, he jumped back and pointed it at her again. “Nice try, cunt.” He turned the safety off with a dull but ominous click. “Now you and your fuck-buddy are going to pay.”
Kat closed her eyes, heart clenching in agony that it was all going to be over. “Klement,” she whispered.
A loud bang reverberated through the small room. Kat flinched, expecting a jolt of pain, but there was nothing. Her eyes snapped open in time to see Klement charge into the room, face contorted in rage. The sound she’d heard was him bursting through the door.
A beastly roar poured from Klement’s throat as he tackled Richard to the ground. The gun went off, a deafening boom. A second loud crack rent the air, and something sliced across her upper arm like a trail of lava.
Kat stumbled back against Cliff’s bound legs and watched in mute awe as Klement pounded Richard with his fists. His brutal blows were seemingly in time with the ringing in her ears, and the gentle, brilliant man who’d held her and laughed with her was gone. Now he was a juggernaut of violent vengeance. Blood burst from Richard’s lips. Her ex’s nose broke with a sickening crunch. A bloody tooth flew from his mouth.
Roderick and another man burst suddenly into the room. They grabbed Klement’s arms, trying to pull him off of Richard, but neither could subdue their thrashing giant of a friend. Two bulky security guards came in next, and they finally succeeded in wresting him from his foe.
The second man stepped over to face Kat’s bloody, beaten ex. A shaft of light from the hall illuminated his face, and Kat’s jaw dropped. It was Dante Deity, one of the forefathers of metal. Was she dreaming? The icy burning on her arm told her otherwise.
Dante crouched down, peering at the floor. He was looking for the gun. When he spotted the weapon, he reached for it then shook his head and nudged it away with his platform boots. He crossed his arms over his chest and stood on guard in front of it.
Roderick raced over to Cliff and began tearing away the duct tape. Cursing loudly, he rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a Swiss Army knife.
Something warm and wet tickled Kat’s elbow. Tearing her gaze from the action, she looked down at her arm and gasped. Blood trickled in red rivulets from an angry, oval shaped wound on her bicep.
“Kat!” Klement’s voice pulled her back to attention. He jerked away from the security staff and flew to her in a rush of speed that defied physics. In the next heartbeat, she was cradled in his arms.
“He shot you!” His voice was wrought with pain. “That fucking piece of shit. Are you okay?”
“It’s only a flesh wound,” she said, in her best Monty Python impression.
Klement released her for a moment and tore his shirt off. He wadded it up and pressed it tightly to her arm before pulling her back into his embrace. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time. I promised you’d be safe,” he rambled. “God, he almost killed you. Please be okay. I love you.”
A drop of what felt like warm rain pattered on her forehead. She looked up to see his eyes swimming with tears.
“I love you,” he said again, looking at her like she was a priceless treasure.
“I love you, too,” she said through the lump in her throat. “I thought I’d never get to kiss you again.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, and she tasted the salt of his tears. But even sweeter, she tasted him.
A clamor of voices echoed around them, loud and insistent. Reluctantly, she broke away from Klement’s kiss. Somewhere in the chaos, police and medics had arrived. Richard was on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back.
“You’re under arrest for malicious mischief, harassment, and attempted murder,” one officer told him before delivering the Miranda rights.
“How did you find me? Kat asked.
“You dropped your medicine outside the door.” He reached in his pocket and handed her the bottle. “Then I heard him yelling at you.”
A silver-haired female medic gently pulled Kat from Klement’s embrace and drew away the wadded t-shirt to examine her wound. Cliff and Rod, and even Deity, talked with the police. One officer approached her and Klement.
“We’re going to have to ask you both some questions to complete our report.”
“Can it wait?” Kat asked. “We have to play the show.”
Klement stared at her with incomprehension. “But you’ve been shot!”
“I was only grazed. I can’t even feel it.”
“That’s because you’re in shock,” the medic said.
Kat lifted her chin. Her level gaze met Klement, Roderick, and Cliff’s. “We are doing the show.”