Beating in Time: Insatiable Fire Series, #1

PROLOGUE

Levi

I rolled my crappy pickup truck to a stop at the end of my driveway and bent to peer through the windshield at the house I shared with four other guys, the house we affectionately called The Crib. The place was lit up. Literally and figuratively. Lights shone in every window, even in ones where I knew something better done in the dark was going on.

Well, shit. I guess they got things started without me.

A grin split my face. This would be one hell of a sendoff. I opened the truck’s door, grabbing the liquor store bag from the passenger’s seat as I exited. Music was spilling from inside onto the patchy lawn. This was the good thing about living in the old Victorian. It was the only house—a last holdout—on a street with businesses surrounding it. No neighbors to call the cops when the noise swelled to undesirable levels. Thank you, Summerville zoning board.

I’d expected some people to be there, since I’d worked late at the garage, but not for things to be going full tilt. Clearly they didn’t need the guest of honor present to get things rocking. Hefting the bag of party supplies, I climbed the front stairs, accidentally kicking an empty bottle that had tumbled down a few of the concrete steps without breaking. It continued its streak of good luck and spun but didn’t break. A red Solo cup was poised on the half-wall at the entrance, ice still floating in the amber-colored liquid it held. A couple was going at it on the other side of the front door, smashed up against the oval cutout of leaded glass in the middle. Reaching the top of the four steps, I grabbed the brass handle on the door, twisted, and opened it slowly so the couple could shuffle clear of it.

I nodded at the guy. Sorry, man.

No problem. The woman still had her arms around his neck, and his were on her hips. He seemed happy enough to be getting some action.

It was pretty much wall-to-wall people. Our parties were always epic, but I could tell this one was beyond all others. Mostly because I was finished here and ready to go out in style.

Hey! It’s the man of honor. Boner came wading through the crowd, the tips of his Mohawk dyed red for the occasion. He wore a leather vest with chains, no shirt, and jeans. He grabbed my hand and pulled me in for a partial chest bump. What’s up, man?

I lifted my chin, smiling in greeting, hoping the party would energize me because I was dead on my feet. My dickhead boss had been intent on wringing every last ounce of energy from me before I punched the clock for the last time. The whole day I’d been thinking about how I wanted to spend the night with friends I might not see in a long while. Boner, Phoenix, and his brother Dak were leaving with me in the morning, too, but we’d had separate shindigs for the brothers the previous two weekends, figuring we each deserved our own, after all. Boner was new to our band—which, as of tomorrow, would be called Insatiable Fire—and not from Last Chance Beach, where the rest of us grew up, an island across the bridge within miles of the house. Boner had come in for my farewell. He was as much a feature in The Crib as my roommates.

As one of the two founding members of the band, I had the honor of saving my bash for last. Unfortunately Wyatt Lawson, my best friend and the guy who’d started Steel with me in the first place, would not be hitting the road with us. I pushed that thought aside, as I’d had to do for months. It did no good to think about how all the things we hoped for together were crushed the minute the plus sign showed in the window of Sadie’s pregnancy test a few years ago. Wyatt had to hang at home and play daddy. He never got the breaks.

Boner relieved me of my bag. You got the goods? He peeked inside.

Tequila, rum, and Jägermeister. It ate most of my paycheck... I rolled a shoulder, grinning. ...but what the hell.

My bandmate clapped me on the back. Good man. I’ll take this to the kitchen. Get yourself a beer. We put the keg in the living room this time. He shrugged. The guys figured you weren’t getting your security deposit returned anyway, so why not?

I nodded, the noise level making it not worth raising my voice to reply. He threaded his way toward the kitchen, disappearing in the mass of partiers again. I exhaled and took a minute to look around. What little furniture we had was pushed against the walls to make room for people to dance, and they were going at it. The bass from the speakers thrummed so loudly the windowpanes rattled in their grilles. Most of the dancers seemed to know what they were doing tonight. In particular, a blonde was rocking her body hard with a friend of one of my roommates, Marco Sandoval. I was curious about who she was, but her hair kept falling in front of her face as she shimmied against him. Watching her gyrate, the pulse in the bass shifted to my crotch and a yearning weighed down the pit of my stomach. Too bad I hadn’t gotten home earlier. Then maybe she’d be shaking her booty next to me. Fuck, she was hot. To her left, a brunette was convulsing in a way I guess she must have thought was attractive but it wasn’t. Her jerky maneuverings were awkward, and her footwork ridiculous. A guy next to her with long, curly hair had one leg forward and was swaying from foot to foot like he’d gone to the Peanuts School of Dance.

God, I hope I don’t look like that when I bust a move.

After observing for a few more seconds, I decided the Peanuts gang had a lot more grace than the dude in my living room. I let my gaze roam farther, trying to locate the keg. I spotted it in a corner next to the one good chair we had. I’d found the armchair on the curb in perfect condition outside one of the cottages undergoing renovation on Last Chance Beach. I guess it was probably Victorian as it seemed to go with the house, a floral pattern I heard some chick call chintz. Next to it was our only decent lamp, collected from the same curb. The dented keg, which looked like animals had clawed at it in an attempt to get into the treasure within, was oddly haloed in the soft light of this lamp, its urban functionality juxtaposed to the hominess of the furnishings next to it. I weaved around people to get over to the area but noticed all the cups were gone. I discovered one on the floor between the lamp and chair and scooped it up. I emptied the few drops in it onto the floor and finding it relatively clean, filled it. The shots I was sure to do later would kill any bacteria I ingested anyway. Leaning against the wall, I knocked it back steadily, knowing I needed to catch up, and again studied the room as the alcohol began to warm me. I zeroed in on the blonde. She was facing the opposite direction and her hands were on her partner’s chest, just below his shoulders. She had a great ass, and the way she swayed her hips was mesmerizing. Although I knew I shouldn’t, I stared. I couldn’t seem to tear my gaze away.

There he is. Dak’s voice made me jump a little. It always was booming, and my being focused on Blondie distracted me so much I wasn’t aware of his approach. Dakota, though part Native American, took after his Swedish mother. His hair was long, but blond and curly.

Hey.

He pumped the keg then poured into one of the cups he carried. Nelson keep you late tonight?

I tilted my head, staring at him silently.

Stupid question. Of course, he did. He tapped his other glass against mine before filling it. Here’s to kissing that mofo goodbye.

That’s for sure.

He propped himself against the wall next to me.

I nodded at his drinks. You scoring with someone tonight?

Uhh...Sadie came.

Mmm. I swallowed the acid seeping from my tongue. Dak’s occasionally fooling around with Wyatt’s ex was a subject we had agreed not to talk about, after exchanging heated words and a blow or two a couple years back. I tried to relax my jaw.

If he wants to sleep with a woman who’s bedded half of the eastern seaboard, well, that’s his business.

My gaze flicked to the side.

So, my best bud’s at home right now, not able to come to my going away soiree, because he’s watching his and Sadie’s kids while she’s doing...whatever the hell it was she did...with Dak. That’s not Dak’s fault. Exactly...

I resisted the urge to spit in the beer he wasn’t drinking from, which had to be hers. I hadn’t liked her since the day Wyatt brought her home. A crescendo of noise rose from the dance floor and we looked in that direction. Someone had shoved a folding chair over to the blonde and she was up on it, dancing her heart out, facing the other way. She peeled off the unbuttoned, long-sleeved black blouse that covered a black, midriff-baring tank top. The motion of it falling from her shoulders stirred me even more. She swirled it above her head like a lasso before roping in her partner. She quickly released him and dropped it on the chair then planted her high heel—black, with strings that crisscrossed in a sexy manner and wrapped around her leg—on his chest. With her knee bent, she gave him a playful shove. The crowd had circled them and was getting into it, whooping and wolf-whistling encouragement. The guy grabbed her legs and whirled with her then loosened his grip so that she slowly slid to the floor.

Who is that blonde with the body that won’t stop? I said loudly.

He stared at me. That’s Remi.

It felt like the floor had disappeared from under me. Remi?

How many Remis do you know? Dak answered. Remi Lawson.

Wyatt’s little sister. So many emotions hit me at once I froze—like a cat walking across a keyboard, the flurry of input jammed up my brain. The level of shock was threefold. One, to see her in the first place. Two, to see her looking so hot. Three, to see her with a guy’s hands on her.

As he held her by the hips, she bent backward and whipped her hair around twice. Before she rose, she caught my eye and gave me this sexy smile that shot immediately to my gut. She straightened and spun. Though I couldn’t hear her, I could read her lips, and she called out my name, taking a step toward me. Marco yanked her against him. My gaze zeroed in on his hand, splayed on her pelvis, and, well, I lost it.

I must have gotten rid of my cup, because I didn’t have it when I got to her. I heard her say, Oh, shit, but my focus was on Marco. I grabbed her arm and jerked her away from him.

What the hell do you think you’re doing?

Marco hauled her in. What the hell do you think you’re doing? he rejoined. Get your own.

I snatched her again. Can’t you see she’s not old enough?

Without looking at her, his jaw tight, he said, You’re eighteen, aren’t ya, hon? That’s what you said.

Yeah. I’m—

She’s eighteen?

Marco smirked. A legal adult. He tried to make another move for her, but I shifted to block him.

I licked my lips. There’s more to it than age of consent, you asshole.

Like what?

Levi. Let me go. Remi wrenched herself free, but the quick motion caused her to stumble and her ankle buckled. She fell against some other guy, whose quick reflexes kept her from hitting the ground.

Have you been drinking? I spat, concerned at first, then angry. Before she could deny it, I said, You’ve been drinking. I turned on Marco. Did you get her a beer or something?

He blinked. Uhh...

I got up in his grill, our chests bumping. You put anything in that drink, Marco?

No, he said a little bit more quickly than I liked. Although a pause would have added even more concern.

I tried to read him, my fists clenching and unclenching. You fucking better not have, or you’ll be in a world of hurt when I get back. I latched on to Remi. Come on. I marched with her toward the door.

What are you doing? she mumbled. She was definitely trashed.

Taking you home.

I remember when you used to be fun, she said petulantly. She shook me off.

Pissed, I made an attempt to grab her again.

Nope. She evaded my hands and tried to rush away from me, but I lunged and latched around her waist. She giggled at first but started kicking and screaming at about the time we reached the door. I’m not leaving. You can’t tell me what to do.

I tightened my grip. Pointing my chin at the door, I barked, Open it. The couple from earlier scurried out of the way, the guy cracking the door open as he bailed. I was beginning to sweat.

Remi stomped her shoe on the ground and flailed. Let go of me.

Quit fighting me, I countered, finally getting her through the door and closing it behind me.

Can’t you see I’m not a kid anymore?

Hell, yeah, I can see that.

I didn’t answer her as I dragged her to the truck. Securing her with one arm, I jerked the door open and threw her in, slamming it shut. I turned, but before I’d even gotten a few steps away, I heard the door open and whirled. I banged it closed again and pounded a finger on the window. Stop. We glared at each other for a moment. When I moved, the latch made a noise and I knew she was trying to make a run for it again. This time I surprised her by swinging it open while at the same time reaching into the bed for a length of rope I kept back there to secure items I was hauling. Knock it off or I’ll hogtie you. And don’t think I won’t. She jutted her chin out. You want that, Remi? You want me to tie you up? For the briefest moment I saw an image of her wrists attached to my bedposts with a silk scarf. I shook my head.

What the fuck is wrong with me? This is Remi. She’s like my little sister.

Fine, she spat, derailing my fantasy further. She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead.

That’s better, I said with an air of triumph. I stomped around to my side and climbed in next to her. Once the door was shut, the music was muffled, leaving only the sound of our labored breathing. I took a moment to process what had just happened.

Geez, Remi. My gaze flashed to her and I was ready to lay into her, but I could see she was upset, so I bit it back and turned on the ignition. In the brief amount of time I had been inside, cars had hemmed me in. Now I was ticked.

I hardly even finished a beer. It was supposed to be my damn party.

Again I wondered what I’d done with my cup. Did I hand it to Dak? Or set it down somewhere? But I still couldn’t remember. And it didn’t matter. I looked about. How could I leave my spot? I sighed.

Screw it.

I cranked the wheel to the right and drove across the lawn, the ruts jarring us as the truck bounced over them.

Remi squealed. Levi, are you crazy?

When I hit a particularly deep hole, she was thrown against me. My arm flew instinctively to protect her, and my palm landed on her upper thigh. I could feel the heat emanating from her. I jerked it away as if burnt. I had to swerve quickly to avoid the tail end of a sedan someone had chosen to park on the lawn, then we tilted as the tires hit the road, and righted again as we took off into the night.

The engine roared as I gunned it, heading to Last Chance Beach where Remi lived. The truck’s body might be falling apart, but I kept the engine at its peak, and the powerful sound of it running satisfied me. We didn’t speak for a while. My jaw hurt from tension, and my mind whirled as I tried to decide what to do next. I caught glimpses of her from the corner of my right eye. She sat fairly still at first, then her foot began to bounce, and she dashed at some stray tears that had escaped her guard and fallen down her cheeks. I was hit by a wave of remorse. She was a kid, doing what kids did, rebelling. She went to the party to have fun and then she got hauled out like a side of beef. An apology was on the tip of my tongue, and then that image of Marco’s hand below her waist resurfaced.

Do you know what could have happened if I hadn’t stepped in? I said suddenly, startling us both.

She glared at me. I could have had a good time?

Remi, I said sternly. That guy is a total douche. He wasn’t interested in you. He just wanted to get laid.

So he couldn’t have been into me because he found me attractive? she snapped. The night air seemed to have sobered her some.

Of course he found you attractive. My God. When did you become such a knockout?

I glanced in my rearview mirror. Anywhere but at her. No. He probably didn’t check you out at all. He’d screw the damned mailbox if it was lower.

Wait. That doesn’t even make sense...

She narrowed her gaze on me, then turned to stare at the window. When she spoke, her voice was shaky. You’re an asshole, Levi.

Maybe I am, I retorted. But I’m the only asshole who was looking out for you tonight.

The rest of the ride was silent. I knew the way to her house, because I’d been her neighbor growing up. If a train could have gotten to the island, we would