He needed the solace of his music. That was just as important as the ride on his Harley. Maestro didn’t ever try to fool himself about what he was. Or who he was. He knew he was controlling. He also knew any woman living with him would feel suffocated under that tight control. Men like him, with his personality, didn’t find women who would stay. Who could love them despite their flaws.
He opened the large front double doors and stood there a moment, admiring the craftmanship of the design and the impeccable work that had gone into building the house. The doors opened straight into an enormous room, revealing the high ceilings and woodwork as well as a step down to the seating area in front of the fireplace. The wall of windows and glass sliding door leading outside to the deck were visible, giving him a partial view of the trees while standing at the front door.
He moved inside and closed the doors behind him. There was only one place he wanted to be—seated at his piano. Thinking of Zelie. Writing a song for her. Deciding, once he was back to normal and could use his brain to think things through, whether to take a chance on finding a real relationship with her. That was if he hadn’t already blown his chances with her.
The moment his fingers were on the piano keys, and as he flooded the room with music, he could breathe again. His mind calmed. The chaos in his head receded along with the howling demons. He allowed himself to go through the time he had spent with Zelie moment by moment. Azelie Vargas could be the perfect woman for a man like Maestro.
He had excellent recall, and he examined what he’d learned about her. She was giving. A pleaser. Her pleasure was in pleasing him. She had worn the clothes he’d sent to her, even though they made her uncomfortable, because he’d asked her to. Each time he had reassured her with his touch or voice, she had responded positively.
She was generous with others even though she didn’t appear to have much. She actively pursued higher education, and she’d been honest when she spoke of Billows’ strange mood swings. He’d noticed those same shifts in disposition each time he’d met the man. Granted, it was only a couple of times, but the man had been jovial and friendly one day and standoffish the next.
He went over every detail of their conversations. Several times she hadn’t wanted to tell him personal things, but she had when he just simply looked disappointed. The thing was, he hadn’t been playing her—he was disappointed. He not only found himself intensely attracted to her physically, but he wanted to know everything there was to know about her. Strangely, he had an overwhelming need to protect her. To keep her safe. To make her happy.
Being with him would never be a picnic, and she deserved so much better. That was one of the many things he had to face. If he managed to convince her to take him on, was it even fair to her? The answer was no. Still, he was selfish enough to take into consideration how he would feel if he didn’t try with her.
Maestro wasn’t used to having emotions, let alone the intensity of these feelings he had for Azelie. He hadn’t trusted her or his own emotions. The moment she attempted to return the earrings to him, he had been horrified at his reaction to her. He wanted her with every cell in his body. He wanted to keep her. To make her his exclusively. Alarm rushed through him, so much adrenaline he couldn’t control it.
At the same time, he wanted to be away from her, desperate to convince himself she was a betrayer like every other woman he’d known—with the exception of Alena and Lana. Out for themselves. Greedy and conniving. Or unable to follow the slightest command because their egos refused to acknowledge that he might know more about security than they did.
The music flowed through him, a soft, intimate melody, and he could hear the lyrics building in his mind. His music never lied to him. If it told him she was real, she was. The longer he played, the more he felt her wrapping herself around his soul. It was a frightening sensation for him, and yet he didn’t stop playing. He needed to feel her close to him. Imagine her in the house, turning it into a real home. Imagine her waiting for him at the door. Giving him her angelic smile. Giving him whatever he asked for.
He acknowledged to himself he’d never had the same feeling for another human being. He wasn’t a coward. If she had the courage to face him, to answer personal questions and go that far out of her comfort zone for him, he couldn’t do less for her.
He’d vowed never to pursue a woman or trust one outside the club, and he had good reason, but he realized he wasn’t willing to give Zelie up. Not without a fight. That was the bottom line. He needed to see her again. He had to know if there was any chance at all for him to have a real relationship with her. The idea of cutting her out of his life so abruptly without even giving them a chance was unacceptable to him.
“Where does that leave us?” he murmured aloud.
He played for another five minutes without stopping, listening carefully to the perfectly pitched notes telling him he was on the right track. He waited for the answers, the music freeing his mind as his fingers flew over the ivory keys.
Maestro had a very important job to do. He couldn’t blow it by placing Azelie in danger. That meant he couldn’t tell her what he was doing. If he was going to work at a real relationship, he would have to tell her after they got the information needed and he knew she couldn’t possibly be held accountable by Billows. He didn’t have to play her. He could be real, himself, and hope everything worked out between them. The moment the mission was accomplished, he would come clean.
Azelie would like that he helped find trafficking victims. She would understand why he didn’t tell her what he was there for. She might not like that he had initially approached her because he was on the job, but once he explained that the attraction was very real and he wanted, even needed, a continuing relationship with her, he was certain she would be understanding.
Once he made up his mind that he was going to pursue her and do his best to tie her to him, he swung around on the piano bench, blinking to try to clear the memories from his brain. The moment he stopped the flow of music, his past tried to crowd in. The betrayals. The tortures. The rapes. The very ugly deaths. Every girl, every woman, starting with his mother and aunt, had betrayed him.
He hadn’t known anything else. Without Czar, Keys and Steele, he would never have survived those early days. The psychological torture was far worse than any of the physical tortures he had been subjected to during his childhood and teenage years. He didn’t want those doors opened to his past, not when he had found a woman who might actually be someone amazing and compatible with a man like him.
He locked the house and went to his Harley. He wasn’t that surprised to see Savage sitting on his 2015 Night Rod Special. The motorcycle was all black with dull gunmetal-gray trim, blacked-out chrome and the image of a dripping gray skull. It had one more adornment that Maestro—and all the other club members—had thought he would remove. For his birthday, the Red Hat ladies, a group of older women, had gotten Ice to make them a form of a hat in rubies and diamonds. They had no idea those gems were the real deal, but they’d had Mechanic and Transporter weld the hat onto the bike. No one thought Savage would take the prank so well, let alone keep the gleaming hat on his stark bike.
The prank had been played on him by Jackson Deveau, a deputy sheriff. He’d made the suggestion to the women. Not understanding that no one touched a man’s bike, they had happily made Savage an honorary member of their club. For some unknown reason, Savage had allowed the decoration to stay. He was used to it now, and it would have looked strange not to have the embellishment on his bike.
“Keys let me know you had come home for the night,” Savage greeted. “Just checking to make sure you’re doing okay.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it, although you should be home with Seychelle. If I had a woman, I wouldn’t be away from her if I could help it.”
Savage shrugged. “Seychelle worries. She worries, I take care of it. As soon as she heard you’d driven to Caspar tonight and would have to turn around and head back to San Francisco, she was afraid something was wrong. She wanted me to check on you as much as I needed to. Heard the music. You have a gift, Maestro.”
Maestro threw his leg over his bike to straddle it. The moment he did, he felt familiar peace slipping over him. “I can lose myself in music. I don’t always feel the passage of time.”
“Haven’t heard that song before. You played it over and over, adding to it.”
“I was writing a new piece.” He hesitated, but Savage had managed to find happiness, and he was a sadist when it came to sex. He also was controlling and had no problem punishing his woman if she disobeyed him. She did so often, but never over safety issues. Maestro thought she might like those punishments just a little too much. When Savage and Seychelle were together, the chemistry between them was electric. He wanted that for himself.
Savage just sat on his bike, seemingly in no hurry to rush away. He didn’t probe, just waited to see if Maestro was going to talk.
“I had a difficult time believing Seychelle would stay,” Maestro admitted. “I made life hard for you by giving you the wrong advice. She took the things I said to her wrong, but I shouldn’t have said them.”
“I was at fault, Maestro,” Savage corrected. “Not you. I was in the relationship with her, and I didn’t act like it. Unfortunately, I’d never been in a relationship. I didn’t know what to do to fix things between us. In the end, I turned to Czar and Blythe. I also encouraged her to talk to her friends if she was concerned about the nature of our relationship.”
“Her friends?” Maestro asked.
“She’s very close friends with a lot of the women in the Red Hat Society. I don’t want her to ever feel alone. We have a unique relationship, one that can be hard on not just her body but her mind. I learned to listen to her. To hear what she needed or wanted. It took a while for me to get it, but she’s the most important person in my life. She sacrifices a lot for me. I want to make certain that she knows she’s loved.”
“How do you do that?” Maestro asked. “I don’t have a clue.”
“It took time for me to hear her. She needed to feel she was my partner. She doesn’t ask about club business, but I know she worries if I’m gone, so I make certain Czar fills her in on my status, so she knows I’m alive and unhurt.”
“How do you find the balance of control and giving her freedom?” Maestro asked the question whose answer most eluded him.
“I think the thing I learned about being in a relationship that was the most helpful was that it is important, even essential, to communicate clearly. I made certain Seychelle knew what she was getting into every step of the way. I told her about myself, what happened to me and why I am the way I am. I told her it wasn’t going to change. I needed a certain type of sex, and I would enjoy her fucking up, so I would have the excuse to punish her. I also explained what kinds of control I needed to have in my life to stay sane.”
Maestro winced. He didn’t spill his guts to anyone, let alone a woman. He wanted her to follow him blindly. “Don’t know if I can do that,” he admitted.
Savage shrugged. “I wouldn’t have been able to talk to another woman the way I do her. I realized almost from the first time that I met her that Seychelle was the one woman I wanted, even needed, in my life. I was willing to do whatever it took to keep her with me. I fucked up several times and was lucky enough that she stuck it out. If you aren’t willing to give her everything, she isn’t the one for you, Maestro.”
Maestro continued to sit on his Harley, the familiar leather seat creaking when he shifted his weight. Of everyone in the club, Savage was most like him. He needed control to survive and to keep everyone around him safe. Not only had Seychelle accepted that control, but she seemed to thrive in the relationship. There was no doubt that she loved Savage. It was in everything she said and did as well as in the expression on her face. She didn’t try to hide the way she felt about her man.
“I want Azelie,” Maestro declared. “It’s difficult to believe we stand a chance, but I know if there’s one woman I want to be with, it’s her. I keep looking for something wrong, waiting for the betrayal. I’ll always be testing her. Controlling every move in our relationship. What woman can live with that?”
