Breaking the Storm

by Sedona Venez

  He wrapped the soft length around his hand, tipping my head back to meet his sensuous gaze. “So how did the dance competition go?”

  Giving him a playful pout, I reached up, running my fingers across his buzz-cut, jet-black hair. “You’d know if you took the time to answer your cell.”

  He gave me a playful scowl before nipping my full bottom lip, running the tip of his tongue along it tortuously slow. “Kaydee had us rehearsing all day. No avoiding the question. How did you do?” His voice rumbled.

  I pushed him, scowling right back. “Well, why don't you ask the slave-driving bitch who answered your cell? You know, the one who told me you were too busy to talk to me?” It was no secret that I despised Kaydee, the band’s personal manager and all-around bitch. It didn’t help that she and Knox were once pretty steady fuck buddies. A fact she did everything in her power to point out when Knox was out of listening range.

  Knox didn’t see her as an issue. To him, she was the past. Men were naïve that way, thinking that just because they closed the book on a sexual relationship, it was a done deal—history. What they didn't get was that, for most women, it was only over when she decided to close the mental and physical doors to salvaging the relationship. And those doors were wide open as far as Kaydee was concerned. That much I knew from the way her greedy eyes followed him. She definitely wanted more than a business arrangement and I was in the way of having that and more.

  His sea-green eyes transformed to dark green like a churning ocean. “Shit! She knows I hate it when she answers my cell.”

  I snorted loudly. “Once again, Kaydee the dictator is at it again. And to answer your question, I placed second.”

  He kissed and nuzzled my neck before giving me the “I will fuck you where you stand” stare. “You’re number one in my eyes.”

  Giving him a playful pout while trailing my fingers across his chest, I said, “That's what you say, rocker. But once you win tonight and move on to rocker hall of fame, I’ll be nothing but a distant memory.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “But hopefully a very hot one.”

  He grabbed my chin roughly. “You don’t honestly believe that, right?”

  My smile was wobbly. Shit! I was doing everything that I promised I wouldn’t do, getting attached. Dammit! I couldn’t even do this right. How hard was it to stick to straight-up sex without all the emotional attachment? Obviously, really hard because here I was, falling straight into the deep end of the relationship pool, which is an absolute no-no. Double damn. I sighed loudly, debating on whether I should be brutally honest, but I settled for just honest. “Knox, men disappoint.” All the time, I deliberately left unsaid.

  His eyes were hard when he said, “I don’t give a shit about the men from your past. This is about you and me. And regardless of what happens tonight, I'll still want you, Storm. Fame won’t ever change that.” He grabbed the back of my neck, squeezing softly. “You know that we can have something good here, right?”

  My heart raced. I resisted the urge to lower the walls around my heart, reaching for something unattainable. I tried not to wish deep into my soul that things between us had a snowball’s chance in hell of turning out all sweet like in the movies. But they wouldn’t, couldn’t. Love was a burden.

  Reaching up, I tried to smooth away his scowl. “Nothing lasts forever, Knox. I graduate in a couple of months.” I paused, swallowing the painful lump of emotions tightening my throat. “And you have to move on and pursue your music career. All I want for you is success… for people to hear that awesome voice and songwriting talent.”

  “And why can’t you fit into that equation?” He combed his fingers through my thick, wild mass of auburn curls. “Do you know that you’re the first person in my life who believed in me without reservations? Who accepted me without wanting anything in return? And don’t think that I don't know you can do better… deserve better than me? Look at you.” He ran his hands over my curves. “You’re smart, sexy, and come from money. And me, I’m just a street thug who jumps from job to job, waiting for this music thing to kick off.”

  I’ll never forget the first time I saw him singing his heart out on stage. It wasn't just his looks that drew me like a magnet; it was his voice. And I was happy to dance to it. Out of the blue, our eyes locked and stayed that way throughout his performance. That's how I met him, the love that should never be.

  I still get a tingle down my spine when I remember how dark and mysterious he seemed when he walked right up to me and actually started a real conversation. A real conversation that didn’t start with the standard, tired line of trying too hard to get between my legs. I realized then that he was a real-life badass without the idiot factor. He was brooding, intelligent, and oozed rugged sexuality, a wickedly deadly combination.

  Who knew that he actually wanted me, the curvy brunette who was nothing like the slim, pretty, street-wise groupies who traveled to every show his struggling band played? Me, the college girl who loved the anonymity and blossomed from getting a temporary reprieve from having to explain the oftentimes embarrassing behavior of my mother. I was wild and free and could immerse myself into my passion for dancing and music without having to suffer her oppressive disappointment.

  It didn't matter that he initially thought I was some bored, rich girl trying to live out some wild fantasy of being with a starving musician. A month later, he realized I just liked him. It was uncomplicated and that's what we both wanted. At least that's what I convinced myself. I wasn't ready to admit to Light or myself that my feelings for Knox were getting dangerously deep—waiting to lay siege on my heart. I was falling for him… and this was dangerous. The rules were clear: falling in love would obligate me to expose what I truly was, setting in motion his slow march to death.

  My voice was thick with emotion as I said, “I see all good things happening for you, Knox, regardless of what happens tonight.”

  He kissed each of my fingers one-by-one. Damn, he was really sweet beneath his tough veneer. “I don’t know a fucking thing about love.” His jaw tightened. “Living on the streets when my mother died was rough. Not that she ever gave a shit about me.” He gritted his teeth. “And I’ve done some pretty fucked-up shit to survive. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth.”

  I reached up, instinctively drawn to the strange, faint pulse of power seeping like sweet nectar from his soul, shamelessly allowing it to soothe my nerves. The buzz making me so giddy that I leaned into his broad chest for support. I jumped when I heard his heart beating with unusual vigor.

  I whispered, “Don't do this, baby. I don't need an explanation. We all have ghosts from our past.” Some more than others.

  He continued as if each word was painful to utter aloud. “I’m fucking tainted. And to be honest, I don't think I could ever truly trust… anyone. I'm too fucking rough around the edges to give you the love you need.” His fingers slid through my hair, tightening. “But, Storm, get this once and for all; I need you. I always will. And if that's not close to the feeling of love, then I don't know what is.”

  I rubbed his arm, loving the way his eyes went all warm at my touch. It was times like this that I wished there was a future for us. But I knew better.

  Fate was a bitch like that.

  He sighed heavily. “No response? I’m trying here, Storm.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “Can we talk about this later? I don’t want you all distracted by this.” And I didn't want to lose sight of what I had to do later tonight. “The Battle of the Bands finale is real important to you.” I reached up, kissing him with a loud smack. “Just think, you can win a record contract tonight! You worked too hard for this opportunity just to let it slip through your fingers.”

  He ran a hand over his hair with agitation. “Maybe, Storm. Maybe we’ll win the Battle…” He looked around at the packed area of excited bands through the heavy plume of smoke. “There’s just some heavy competition performing tonight.”

  “And none of them are as talented as you.” This was t
he truth. With his unique voice, there was no singer out there like him. It was like pure, hard thunder with a sensuous kick at the end. Combined with his raw sex appeal, I swear it was like an ice cream cone on a summer day. Delicious with every lick and even better going down—literally.

  I rubbed my thighs together, getting hot from the memory of exactly how super talented his tongue game was. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring like he could actually smell my sensual scent of need and expectation. I reached up, running my tongue over his lips, enjoying the low, animalistic rumble that erupted in his throat.

  “Oh how I love that animal thing that you have going on,” I mumbled against his lips. When he went for a full tongue-down-the-throat kiss, I pushed him back playfully. “Playtime is over.”

  He scowled jokingly. “You're a pushy little thing.” He nipped my bottom lip. “It's kind of hot.” His lips curled up into a slow, sexy smile. “Thanks for being here, Storm. It means a lot.”

  “I think I might faint. You actually said something sweet.” I punched him softly in the chest. “And what’s the deal with leaving me tickets at the door? You didn’t have to do that.” Knox was struggling even though he worked several jobs. He couldn’t afford to be paying for tickets.

  He looked at me pensively. “And that’s why I did. You don’t ask for a fucking thing, Storm. You put up with me not being able to take you out on a decent date—like that punk Luke did.”

  I stiffened. Luke Brasson, the mistake I was constantly paying for… literally.

  “Damn, why do you want to go there, Knox? Luke and I are over, so let it go.”

  His lips curled up snidely. “Are you sure about that?”

  I pulled away from him completely. “First, you need to stop listening to Kaydee.” The culprit starting rumors that Luke and I were still together. All lies, and it didn't help that Luke was literally stalking me. Luke, who couldn't, no, wouldn't accept the fact that it was over. “Don't you dare judge me, Knox. You don't fucking see me pouting and kicking rocks because you were still fucking Kaydee.” I pursed my lips. “And a whole gang of other chicks after meeting me.” This was a fact, but I was a realist. I didn't expect him to drop all of his fuckmates mere seconds after meeting me. I sure as hell didn't. Case in point, insane stalker Luke.

  He scowled. “That's different. That dude is fucking psycho.”

  That was true. Luke was turning out to be more mentally unstable than I originally suspected. But I knew Knox's hatred of him came more from the fact that I had sex with Luke—several times.

  “Why are we talking about this? The past is the past. I don't have constant reminders of my exes like you do with all of your former lovers hanging around like trophies.” Beautiful, willing trophies.

  His face softened slightly as he pulled me against him. He knew how hard it was for me to see all of the women he slept with still hanging around at every show, waiting for him to drop a crumb, inviting them back into his bed.

  “The topic is dropped. I apologize for being a major ass.” He pulled my face up, landing a soft kiss on my lips. “Do you forgive me?”

  “This time. But bring that shit up again, and I'm walking. You either trust me or you don't.” It was that simple. I wasn't going to continue to kick myself for my past. We all had skeletons in our closets. Some more than others. And I wasn't going to let mine be dragged out every time he had an inferiority complex about my former boyfriend. Besides, I never pretended to be some awkward virgin. I've had sex because it was something I enjoyed, still do, a lot. But I didn't part my legs like the Red Sea to every guy I met—just the wrong ones. Men who were pretty on the outside but horribly broken on the inside. Another downside of being a Credence… Like a moth to a flame, we attracted men who were stalkers, crazed, and emotionally unavailable.

  He sighed heavily. “Storm—you know I don't do that trusting shit.”

  Yes, another red flag. A resounding warning that this relationship would never work. We both had major trust issues.

  “Yeah, well, if I was still sleeping with Luke, I would tell you. I don't play games, Knox.” I had bigger issues to deal with, like ensuring that I didn't end up crazy from the strain of constantly being on guard. “Like if you were still sleeping with Kaydee, I would want to know.” Because I didn't do complicated.

  His eyes shifted away and back. My stomach clenched. Holy shit, we have a problem. I grabbed his square chin. “Tell me what the fuck is going on?”

  His voice had a slight chill to it. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Nope, that was a lie. I could tell by the tension in his jaw.

  I arched a brow. “I’ll ask you one more time. What. Is. Going. On?” I was like a dog with a bone, and I wasn’t letting go.

  His face tightened with annoyance. “Dealing with Kaydee is… complicated.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. “Complicated?”

  With an obvious effort, he struggled to keep his temper. “I’m not fucking her, Storm. It’s all business for me.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “But for her… it’s all personal. And she’s bitter right now.”

  “Bitter about me,” I responded flatly.

  “Exactly. Her mood swings and manipulation are tearing the band apart.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I would fucking fire her, but that would tear the band apart.”

  I blinked. “Let me get this right. She’s using the band as leverage to get back with you?”

  His face was set in a grim expression. “I suppose that’s one way of describing this clusterfuck.” There was a deliberate pause. “She’s dangerous and desperate. A combination that might drive her to do something I know she won’t regret.”

  My lips flattened. “I don’t do complicated, Knox.”

  His lips twisted. “Neither do I. My life is complicated enough.” He stared at me. “I’ll fix this. I promise.”

  My chin tilted to a defensive angle. “Like I just said, I don’t do complicated. So make it right or I’m out of here.”

  His gaze returned to meet the challenge in my eyes. “I will.” He frowned. “Your family must hate that you’re with a guy like me.” He paused. “I know that you’re used to more… and someday I’m going to give it to you.”

  I tried to chase away the unease, the air of caution that hung around me. “I’m good with just hanging with you. I don’t need anything else.” This was the truth. He had given me more than he even realized, genuine acceptance with no crazy expectations.

  “Why is it that every time I mention your family, you avoid the topic?”

  I shrugged, my heart thundering in my chest. Not this topic again. “Believe me, there’s nothing special about my family.” Other than we are cursed descendants from a long line of powerful Fae-witches. Cursed to kill every man that we fall in love with. No biggie.

  His eyes narrowed; it was like he could sense my unease. “What? Your mother won’t approve of you bringing home a tattooed rocker guy?”

  Nope, quite the opposite. Mom would love him. Just not for me. More like for her. He was everything she loved in a man: young, wild, and very rough around the edges. She would literally suck him dry.

  My mouth flopped open as he just stared at me, waiting for me to say something. Not that I would or could. How could I even begin to explain the basics of the secretive world that I lived in? He would think I was insane if I told him that this world not only consisted of humans, but beings called Others—wolf-shifters, vampires, and other supernatural beings that blended in, coexisting with humans.

  And my family… how could I even begin to explain Mom’s eccentric, extravagant lifestyle? Or that she was an unabashed Domme—a female sexual dominant who rotated young sexual submissives faster than the speed of light.

  I cringed at what he’d think of Mom running the most prestigious Other matchmaking service in New York. A company with legacy contracts with the most prestigious Other families who expected nothing but the best female escorts for the males of their family. Or that
despite my family's wealth, we were considered outsiders among Others because of our Fae ancestry. And the final nail in the coffin of craziness was that after I graduated from college, I was expected to learn the family business with full expectations to take it over like some sort of witch rite of passage.

  Nope, I liked the persona I created better… Stormy Credence, the fun college party girl. It was just simpler that way.

  “Look, it’s not you.” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and started again. “My mother is… different.” Very different. “I’m just not ready to unleash her on you.” Or any human. She was just too much of everything, which was the exact reason I intentionally told him very little about my family. He knew that my parents were divorced. That I hated my father and had absolutely no contact with him. That my mother ran a very successful company located in Manhattan. And that I was an only child with two cousins, including Light, and two aunts, including Light’s mother. Of course, I didn't mention that we were secretly known as the last of the Credence bloodline, a topic that was way more complicated than I cared to delve into… ever.

  I liked the fact that he didn’t dig into my family dynamics. He just accepted. I also didn’t dig into his family life. He had none. His mother died years ago and left him nothing, so he lived with Liam in a rundown apartment.

  I broke out of my trance when I felt the oppressive cloak of a dark presence approaching—Kaydee. My eyes narrowed as she strode toward us like a toxic dark cloud of dust, wearing jeans so tight I wondered how she could walk without tearing the seams like an angry green monster. My lips pursed with disgust at her tight, ripped from the neck almost to her belly button, black T-shirt with a faded eagle. It was just tacky.

  “Knox, it’s time,” Kaydee purred, deliberately ignoring me as usual, letting her obscenely long, fake nails trail along the bunched muscles of his shoulder.

  I barely squashed the urge to shove her hands off. I didn't like her. Shit, no female that encountered Kaydee liked her. She was too fake, from her overinflated breasts to her ass implants. Even her long ombre-blond hair mixed with gawd-awful jet-black highlights was hair extensions.