Relentless Rhythm (Tempest #4)

by Michelle Mankin

  I could feel him for real. He said he’d play for me and I believed him. Raw desire gleamed from his whiskey colored eyes. Dizzy Lowell held me captive in his heated gaze. I couldn’t break his hold on me. I didn’t fight it. I didn’t try to get away. I didn’t want to. The space between us seemed to disappear. It felt like we were the only two people in the theatre, in the entire universe, if only that could be true.

  Everything else in my life seemed to fade away into insignificance in that moment. All that remained was my need for him.

  “No one’s letting me do anything.” Sager laughed mimicking Justin’s response to War’s challenge during their recent backstage showdown. The after party in the crowded Sutton ballroom was in full swing around us, the social elite of Vancouver hovering, the crystal chandeliers casting their muted glow on the five of us. King, Sager, Bryan, and I stood out the way we always would, Southside guys to the core. Attitude, tats, and leather, even when washed up and in our best jeans. And Justin, who was making a strong play to fit in.

  “Did you see the look on War’s face?” King followed up. “Pendejo’s finally getting a clue. Tonight proved he’s the one who’s replaceable.”

  I was barely paying attention to the conversation, and I wasn’t the only one. Bryan seemed distracted, too. Since Lace took off, his gaze kept flicking to the entrance to the ballroom. She hadn’t given a reason for her sudden departure, and he hadn’t asked her to. My sister was independent and unpredictable, and everyone knew it hadn’t been that long since she and War had been together. I wondered if Bullet was thinking the same thing.

  I turned the grey leather cuff on my Miansai watch around, checking the time on the black dial again, and that’s when I saw her. My eyes widened. I’d never seen her wearing shit like that. She was usually dressed to deflect attention not attract it. “Isn’t that Bridget?” I asked, elbowing our new lead singer.

  Justin and my sister’s best friend had been inseparable until that psycho ex of his had stuck her nose in it. Given the desperate looks of longing on both their faces now, it seemed pretty apparent to me that they were ready to kiss and make up.

  I stepped out of his way, spotting my sister skirting the perimeter of the room with Bridget’s son. One mystery solved. Guess Lace hadn’t scooted out to search for War after all. Relief washed over me. The band had weathered enough drama in that regard.

  As I weaved my way through the crowd toward Lace, most of the responses I got were the fawning. That was alright. I noted an occasional look of disdain from the high brows. I remembered something War would always say. ‘Fuck the haters.’

  “Diz!” Carter’s big blue eyes lit up when he saw me. I didn’t let it go to my head. Bridget’s little dude worshipped all the guys in the band.

  I grinned at him. “Hey, Champ.”

  “You guys were awesome!” the precocious five year old declared, his feet clearing the floor fueled with the power of his enthusiasm.

  “Thanks. Glad you got to see the show.” I met my sister’s eyes. “Have you seen Bluebelle anywhere?”

  “No, but then I was upstairs with Bridget for a while.” She cocked her head to the side. “Why?”

  “No reason.” I lied, wondering what was taking her and April so long to get here. Surely, they’d show up soon.

  “But I’ve brought a message for you from the Queen. I ran into her on my way in. She wants to speak to you. It didn’t sound like it would wait.”

  “Yeah?” I pulled in a breath. “Great.” I’d better go ahead and get that chore over with so I could figure out what I was going to say to April. I didn’t want to lose my nerve, but I wasn’t going to let her pull back again, either. We were going to work things out tonight. “Where is she?”

  “Conference room B.” Lace arched a brow. “Charles Morris was going in as I left. Looked intense.”

  Hmm. That was interesting.

  When I escaped the crowded ballroom, I asked a uniformed hotel employee for directions to the conference area. His eyes lit up with recognition, but he kept it professional, escorting me to the door without making a big deal out of it.

  I started to enter, but the sound of raised voices stopped me in my tracks. I peeked through the cracked door. In a grey and black beaded cocktail dress, shoulders back, hands fisted on her hips, the Queen of Black Cat faced off against the tuxedoed King of Zenith. “I don’t know who you charmed on the board to get him on the bill tonight, but this is unacceptable Charles.” Her grey eyes flashed fire at the rival executive. “In case you haven’t noticed Warren Jinkins is a human being with feelings and relationships that you’re damaging with your games. Not just a pawn you can use to manipulate me.”

  “I wouldn’t have to.” Morris took a step closer to her, lifting a hand and raking it through his silver and black streaked hair while Mary watched him with an anxious expression I’d never seen. “If you just would’ve just listened to what I had to say in Miami instead of slinking off while I was asleep.”

  “There’s nothing left to say.” She sounded defensive.

  “Not true!” he snapped, his light blue eyes a maelstrom of emotion. Mary’s chin came up reminding me of the way April acted whenever I pushed her too far. “There’s decades worth. We’ve wasted too much time already, and I refuse to waste any more.” He reached out and plunged his hands into her loose shoulder length hair, tilting her head back and slamming his mouth onto hers.

  Holy shit.

  Her fisted hands pounded on his chest, once, then two times more but not as hard. I moved forward ready to put an end to whatever the hell was going on when I heard her moan, a long aroused one. I stopped, my brows rising above my surprised eyes.

  I watched her fingers curl into the lapels of his tux, and then even I felt embarrassed as he bent her over nearly backward with the force of his passion.

  I didn’t say anything, but I must’ve made a sound because Mary suddenly pushed him away and looked at me. She was breathing hard and her hand trembled when she brought it to her mouth. Morris gave me a look that would’ve incinerated me on the spot if I wasn’t so used to dealing with flare-ups with our hotheaded drummer.

  “This isn’t over,” Morris told Mary, his voice gruff as he spun away, brushing past me as he exited the room.

  The Queen stared at the empty doorway for a long moment before she eventually turned back to me, her imperial mask again firmly in place. “Excellent performance tonight, Lowell.” Her tone had returned to its usual shade of regal. Though she was all business again, I knew I’d never be able to look at her the same way again, not after having witnessed that scene. “Have a seat.” She motioned to a chair opposite the one she took. “I wanted to touch base with you. Find out how you think things are going with Justin.”

  “Good.” The guy was like a whole other level of badass on stage. He might not be one of us, but he might be able to learn. “I think he’ll work.”

  She nodded. “That’s the way it looked to me. The press seems to agree. Very good.” She smoothed her dress. I tried not to notice her swollen lips. She looked down her nose at me, her eyes holding mine. I don’t think I fooled her. Like everybody else I got the idea that she was omniscient. “Now that we’ve got Justin settled in we can focus on getting Tempest where we both want it to be. You’re the peacemaker of the group, the key to keeping Tempest together. I’m counting on you to take on more of a leadership role. Justin’s too new, and Bryan wouldn’t accept him in that capacity even if he wasn’t. King and Sager are in their own little worlds, so it’s up to you. I want you to hustle. Get the album completed. I’m setting up a mini tour for Tempest through some exclusive mid-capacity venues. Tempest will be the headline. I want to test out your new material. After tonight, I’m confident we’ll sell out those shows easily. Then we’ll see about where to put you on the bill for a European tour this summer.”

  My eyes widened. “Alright.”

  She stood. “One last thing. I want you to forget whatever it is that you think you
saw here. It didn’t happen.” She tilted her head in the direction of the door. I got the message and scooted out. But for some reason, at the last moment, I glanced back.

  Back in her seat, Mary Timmons dropped her head into her hands. Her shoulders shook in an unmistakable way.

  But I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.

  The Queen was crying.

  “We’re here. Where are you?” Cell to her ear Mel worked her way through the after party crowd. My brothers and I tried to keep up.

  Dodging men in starched tuxedoes and women in swishing satin, my body was wound tightly, a nervous knot of uncertainty, but all my nerves unraveled the minute we met eyes. Only one thing remained as our gazes locked, and all the oxygen sucked out of the room. I wanted him. I drew my little brothers in front of me as if they could somehow prevent me from acting on something that I knew was already inevitable.

  Dizzy scanned me with heavily lidded eyes. I flushed, undressed by them, imagining how good the real thing would be. After what seemed like forever and yet not long enough, he released me from his gaze and turned to Mel. “What took you so long?” His velvety voice had an impatient rumble to it.

  “We’re not all VIP’s, Dizzy Lowell.” Undaunted, she rolled her eyes at him. “Some of us had to park in the garage and wait our turn in traffic instead of being whisked away by limo.”

  “C’mon.” Whiskey eyes alight with an internal fire that seared my soul, he pushed off the wall he’d been casually leaning against. “Everyone else’s waiting inside.” He hooked an arm around Mel’s shoulder.

  Once again I found myself following, even knowing the potential pitfalls that lay ahead. I could still appreciate the view, couldn’t I? The broad shoulders in leather, the dark denim accentuating his lower assets. A teeny tiny self-preserving part of me scrambled for a way out. I crushed it like a bug.

  At a buffet table that seemed to sag under the weight of a towering Black Cat shaped ice sculpture and a pyramid of appetizers, his smile blindingly bright, Justin stood with his arms draped around the shoulders of a diminutive platinum blonde. Beside them was a little boy with hair the same shade as the blonde, using the cutlery to launch his action figure into the air. I knew from overheard conversations that the two had to be Bridget, the single mom who’d run away and nearly broken Justin’s heart, and her son, Carter.

  It appeared as though they’d mended their differences. I was glad for Justin. He’d been wrecked after she’d run. Bridget lifted her arms and pulled his head down for a kiss. I didn’t think there was any danger of her going away again anytime soon. I could feel the heat the two of them generated or maybe it was just that I was super tuned to that kind of energy because of the way I felt about Dizzy

  The sexy rhythm man was a couple of feet away but I didn’t have to look to know that. I could feel him. I knew how he tasted. I remembered how he kissed. I suspected how it would be between us. Just thinking about it made me shiver.

  “You should stay,” Bridget said. “It’s your night. I’ll take Carter up and get him ready for bed.” Her light blue eyes flicked to me widening speculatively.

  “She’s right. It is so your night. You were brilliant, Justin!” Mel gushed enthusiastically. “So much better than War and his lame band.”

  Bridget glanced up at Justin, pride for him evident in her expression.

  “Thanks, Bluebelle.” Justin kept one hand on the blonde’s shoulder while he made introductions. Obviously he didn’t want to let go of her. When Bridget shook my hand, I noticed how small hers was in mine. I squeezed it gently. I didn’t know the exact details regarding her sudden disappearance, but I knew that I liked her right away. She spoke rather rapidly, but she had an engaging manner and seemed genuinely interested in the answers I gave to her questions about my job.

  While we continued chatting, Dizzy, Justin, and Mel conversed, and my brothers and Bridget’s son drifted closer together.

  “Is that the new Spiderman?” Michael asked Carter.

  “Uh-huh,” he replied, holding the action figure up so Michael could inspect it.

  “Cool.” Michael turned it over in his hands and looked up at me.

  As the older sibling, I knew what that look meant. “Maybe for your birthday, jobber.”

  “Can Michael and John come up to play, Mommy?” Carter asked, his baby blues pleading.

  Bridget looked at me. “Would that be alright?” she asked. “Just for a little while. I know it’s late.”

  I started to decline, but Michael added in a please, and then Dizzy moved behind me blasting me with his irresistible allure. My knees went wonky when his warm breathe puffed near my ear. “Let them go,” he whispered, his hard chest pressing into my back.

  “Alright. Just for a little bit,” I told her. I turned to my brothers. “Be good. Use your manners.”

  “They’ll be fine.” Bridget smiled again. “I’d like to visit with you some more. Maybe we’ll see each other at the Mine sometime.” Her gaze and her offer extended to Mel.

  As they moved away, Sager joined us. The bassist’s dark sparkling eyes zeroed in on Mel. “Belle,” he trailed his fingers down her arm. “Got a minute?” he asked.

  She shivered and slid closer to Dizzy.

  “Go ahead,” Dizzy said. “I’ll keep an eye on April. Make sure she gets something to eat.”

  Mel’s face fell, reflecting her disappointment. Obviously she’d been hoping, Dizzy would send Sager away. “Sure, Sager. I’d love to talk to you.” She lifted her chin. “Alone.”

  Sager’s eyes darkened as he took her arm and pulled her away saying something to her that I couldn’t make out, but whatever it was, I couldn’t help but notice her frown.

  Strong hands turned me, and all other thoughts disappeared as his brandy hued eyes captured mine. I couldn’t look away, but maintained my distance even though what I really wanted was to be closer. Lots closer. Skin to hot skin bodies joined closer. “No, Dizzy.” I glanced around nervously, relieved that no one seemed to notice us. “We can’t…you can’t touch me like that.”

  “Babe.” His gaze flicked to my mouth and came back up. “I already have. And believe me when I tell you I plan to touch you a whole lot more. Again and again.” Arching his studded brow, he took my arm, warm fingers firmly pressing into the soft flesh of my upper arm. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” I demanded to know, trying to slow him down by dragging my feet.

  “My room, of course.”

  Oh, shit. I gulped.

  He steered me to the bank of elevators just off the ballroom. There was a thick crowd waiting to get on. He moved us to the rear when the doors of the elevator closed. His hand slid to my lower back awakening nerve endings wherever he touched me. His warm fingers spread wide in the small of my back in the exact spot where a tramp stamp might go.

  How apropos, I thought.

  “This is our floor,” he announced, guiding me out and moving me down the hall by my arm. He walked so fast I had to jog to keep up with him.

  “Wait, Dizzy.” I planted my feet, trying to yank my arm free, grateful no one was around to watch our game of tug of war. “Just hold on,” I huffed. “Whatever you have to say, can be said right here. Really. I don’t know what you think this is, but it’s not that. It can’t be. I can’t go in there with you.”

  His eyes narrowing, he pulled a key card out of his pocket. “Get inside,” he growled after getting the door open. Just in case I didn’t get that his request wasn’t optional, he took my arm and pulled me after him.

  The door clicked closed and I found myself in another hallway, one that opened up into a living room where a single lamp burned.

  Expression intense, a man with a single minded mission, Dizzy moved into me. I retreated, my backside bumping into a wall in response to his full frontal press. My breasts smashed into his solid chest, the nipples immediately hardening. His jeaned thighs bracketed mine. Heat erupted between us so hot I was a little disappointed
when our clothes didn’t spontaneously combust.

  Dizzy grabbed my hands and lifted them over my head. He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes dark penetrating orbs. He was impossibly close, impossible to ignore, and then he rocked his hips. “Do you feel that?”

  I so did. He felt so good. I could feel my body softening to accommodate him.

  “I can feel your heat, Kitten. You want this as much as I do. Don’t deny it.”

  “You’re right. I want to,” I whispered, staring into gold eyes that melted my body and my resistance. “But I can’t. I keep trying to tell you, but you won’t listen. Besides, it’s just chemistry. We barely know each other.”

  “Bullshit. We know what’s important.” He adjusted his grip so he could hold my wrists in one hand. “You and me. This.” He ran his ringed thumb over my bottom lip. Desire pooled low in my belly. I stifled a moan. I think he knew. His eyes darkened more. “We have chemistry because we’re meant to be together. Stop running from that. Stop hiding from life. Let go. Be the strong woman I see, not just when you’re at the bar or away from him, but all the time.” I closed my eyes embarrassed at his insight. “That’s just part of what I wanted to bring you up here to say. He stroked my cheek softly with the back of his knuckles. “You’re the one who has the power, babe. All you have to do is decide. Take the first step. Leave him. Tonight.”

  I blinked my eyes open. “I can’t.”

  “You can,” he insisted, his words a heated growl. “I understand the situation you’re in, but you’ve got other options. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does.”

  “You don’t know.” I tried turning my head to avoid looking into the eyes of the man who seemed to be everything that I needed and wanted but could never have. His grip on my wrist tightened. He took my chin with his free hand, forcing me to look at him.