The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  “Sure, but I can’t stay out long. I have more studying to do.”

  “I’ll get you back in a couple of hours.” I played it casual, turning away from her to refocus on the band. But I was far from feeling casual. I’d been raw all day, wondering if she would give me a second chance.

  “We’re going to be the next big thing,” I said, making eye contact with each individual band member, including Lace. No one said a word to counter me. They felt it. They knew I was right. “We need a name.”

  “Tempest,” Lace said, and I froze. “A violent storm. A tumult. An uproar. To raise a tempest in or around.”

  “Babe.” I shook my head, my expression revealing my disbelief. “That’s perfect. I love it, but you sound like a dictionary.”

  “We’re studying Shakespeare in Mr. Schubert’s class.” Smiling, she shrugged. “The definition was in the notes he sent me.”

  “Done,” I said, not bothering to put it to a vote. We were a group, but it was my group. “Now, let’s move on to Mötley Crüe’s ‘Shout at the Devil.’ Give me the beat, King.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Lace

  After practice, I was talking to King and Sager when War came to claim me for a walk.

  “Let’s go.” Without an apology for interrupting, he offered me his hand.

  “I’m not a little puppy you can order around.” Translation: I’m not like those other girls who drop to their knees if you just look at me a certain way. But I took his hand.

  “I know you’re not, Lacey.” His brows dipping, he closed his fingers around mine. “If you’ll put a pause on the attitude, I’ll show you what I think, what I want for you, for us.”

  In the jaw-dropping silence that followed that statement, the latches on Bryan’s guitar case sounded overly loud as he snapped them closed.

  “All right, War.” I didn’t protest his nickname for me again. At this point, I didn’t think it would do any good. With his personality, I needed to pick which battles to fight, and choose ones that were critical to win.

  “We’re taking off,” King said, inclining his head toward the driveway. “Adios.”

  “See you tomorrow, same time.” War fist-bumped King, who had his sticks in one hand, and then Sager next, who held his bass.

  The plan was for King to store his drums in the garage. Like my keyboards, his kit was a pain in the ass to move around, something we would have to consider when and if we got a gig. War had mentioned us having one soon, as if it were a done deal. Our lead singer had a lot of grandiose ideas about the band. He was unreasonably stubborn and convincingly certain, making him easier to believe than to oppose.

  “You coming by Kyle’s later?” Bryan asked War as he sauntered over to us, his muscles flexing distractingly.

  Unlike my brother, Bryan had hung around after practice. I wasn’t exactly sure why. It wasn’t to speak to me. He hadn’t tried to talk to me since our walk. Was all the stuff about wanting us to reconnect and be friends again only a line?

  “That’s a no to Kyle’s.” War’s brow creased. “But come by my place later. I wanna run some things by you.”

  “Okay. I’ll go solo to Kyle’s place first, then your house after.” Bryan glanced at me. His expression was hard, closed off, unreadable. “Later, Lace.”

  “See you tomorrow,” I told him evenly, though my stomach knotted.

  Was Kyle’s where War had hooked up with Missy? Was Bryan going there to hook up with her too? Or would he choose the girl who’d been hanging out of the car, the redhead?

  Suddenly, I felt alone and much too inexperienced for guys like Bryan and War.

  “Here, Lace.” War grabbed the zip-up hoodie he’d thrown aside when he arrived. Securing it around my shoulders, he gave me a long look, his gaze drifting over me. “You look good in my clothing.” His eyes darkened to a richer brown, and his lips curved.

  “I’m gone.” Bryan’s voice cracked like a whip, and he frowned at me on his way out of the garage.

  What had I done to piss him off?

  “Thank you for lending it to me,” I said, turning to face War while holding the edges of his hoodie in place at my neck.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I didn’t slip my arms into the sleeves. It was chilly tonight, but I was warm knowing War was being careful to look out for me. It also seemed like it would mean something significant if I put my arms in the sleeves and zipped it up. Like maybe he’d already secured me, which of course he hadn’t.

  I wasn’t sure exactly what was on his mind. But he was in for a surprise if he thought he had me after Missy. War and I were far from a done deal.

  War helped me close and lock the garage. Afterward, we walked together side by side to the end of the driveway.

  “We’re heading this way,” he said, turning left like he and Bryan had the night before. He took my hand, closing his fingers around mine.

  I started to protest, but he gave me a look, one that made it seem like it might hurt him if I refused. So I remained silent, admitting to myself that I liked him holding my hand. The warmth of him beside me. The foreboding presence of him. No one would mess with Warren Jinkins.

  Plus, there was something about him that felt familiar, and it hit me just then, the things Bryan said about War being confrontational, having a temper, and not letting people push him around. Those things could also apply to me.

  But could two similar personalities get along?

  My thoughts continued as we strolled side by side. The night was dark, broken only by the interruption of streetlights. Dogs barked in the distance. Sirens wailed. The houses on the path he’d chosen were like Uncle Bruce’s 1920s bungalow. A few even had second stories like his. Only as I glanced in the lighted windows and saw silhouettes of the people inside, it seemed those contained real families, not just strangers thrown together under one roof.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, glancing at War. Maybe it wasn’t wise to go where he led without questioning. How much did I really know about him, beyond the fact that Bryan trusted him?

  “I’m taking you to meet someone,” he said.

  “Where?” I asked.

  “The Fast Mart on the Ave.” He stared straight ahead. The crease in his forehead that had appeared after Bryan’s question about coming to Kyle’s remained. Only now it was noticeably deeper.

  “Who?” My eyes narrowed.

  “Someone I think it’s important for you to meet.”

  “Important why?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to meet someone who made War look so worried. Someone he was purposefully vague about.

  “Fuck, you ask a lot of questions.”

  He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and let go of my hand. A soft breeze lifted his light brown hair back from his handsome but troubled face.

  “Straight up, I want you, Lace. I want this to work with us. But I don’t do relationships. I don’t have a clue how to make one work, as you saw with my previous screwup.”

  Seeing War uncertain, vulnerable even, made my jaw drop. This wasn’t a side of him I’d seen before.

  Bryan’s words floated through my mind. “He made a mistake. He feels terrible. He’s a good guy.”

  “I’m not sure I do either,” I whispered. What examples of good relationships had I ever had?

  “I think you do. Actually, I’m counting on it.” War smoothed his hands over my shoulders. “You’re smart, determined, strong.”

  “Thank you.” I liked that he saw me that way. I liked that a hell of a lot. “I think you’re all those things too.” He certainly was when it came to his vision for the band.

  I placed my hand on his face and studied him. “Who are you, Warren Jinkins?”

  Handsome, he wore a determined crease—a permanent one—between his dark brows. A strong, almost sharp nose split the center of his lean face. A thick layer of evening stubble gave a hint of a mustache and beard. His defined jaw lent him a dangerous look, a more dangerous one.

  There was a da
rkness hanging over War, a cloud that never seemed to dissipate, a potential threat of danger, a real chance that he could harm rather than help you, as I now knew. The choice, the power, it was ultimately his.

  “I’m just a Southside guy.” His lips lifted into a slow, sexy grin. “Trying to claim a girl.”

  “Is that what you really want? To claim me?”

  I sensed that if I won a place in his guarded heart, if he truly claimed me like he had Bryan as a friend, that War would go to any length to protect me. But only if our goals were the same.

  What would happen if my interests didn’t align with his?

  “I do want that. I want you, Lacey.” He glided his hands down my arms. Curling his long fingers around my upper arms, he pulled me closer, his hard body cushioning my softer one.

  “I believe you,” I whispered. The truth shone in his brown gaze, the coppery filaments within it glowing bright. Plus, I could feel the physical evidence of that truth. Between us, he was thick and hard.

  “And you?” he asked as his eyes searched mine, making my heart race. “What do you want?”

  I was attracted to him. Majorly intrigued. I got the dangerous part of him, understood it, and experienced the thrill that went along with it. I also got that the sharp edge of him could slice both ways.

  “I want you too, War. It’s just—”

  “No,” he said quickly, cutting me off. “I can work with that. We can work with that. Isn’t wanting each other and us being honest about how we feel the right place to start?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  War

  “Here we are,” I said to Lace, stopping in front of the Fast Mart and opening the door for her. She stepped inside, and I followed. A bell jingled overhead, announcing our arrival.

  “Welcome to the Fast Mart,” my old lady said without looking up from scanning a stack of scratch cards for her customer.

  “Thanks,” Lace said to her, not knowing who she was. Glancing around the store, she turned to me. “Who are we meeting here, and why?”

  “Excuse me,” said the guy who had just bought the lottery cards. He was so skinny, he looked like he would have been better off buying food rather than a one-in-a-zillion chance at a jackpot of cash.

  “Of course.” I pulled Lace out of his way. “Our bad.” I was just about to spell everything out for her when my old lady spoke.

  “What the hell, Warren? I told you to stay out of here when I’m on my shift.”

  “Hey, Mom.” I turned toward her, raking a hand through my hair.

  “No free booze. You’re underage. I’ll get fired, and then where will we be? A single mother with no job, and her boy who’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

  Lace’s entire body jerked.

  “Not looking for alcohol,” I mumbled, noticing Lace watching me closely.

  “No free condoms either.” My mother swept her gaze over Lace and narrowed it. “You wanna fuck around with a piece of ass who looks like a goodie-goodie schoolteacher, that’s your business. Your responsibility. Don’t make the mistake I made and get shackled with a kid for life. Buy condoms.”

  “Yeah. I get it.” Her words were familiar but sliced deeply. They always did.

  “Why don’t I believe you?” She frowned, and I hated that she had zero faith in me.

  “Don’t fucking know. I guess because you never believe anything I tell you.” I frowned now too. The toxicity of her words wasn’t even noteworthy. I was accustomed to the sting.

  “Get the fuck out of here then, and take your latest piece of ass with you.”

  “C’mon.” I took Lace’s arm and led her out the same way we came in.

  “War,” she said as soon as we were outside, and I stiffened, anticipating her pity. “I’m—”

  “Don’t.” Moving directly in front of her, I saw the sheen of that stuff in her eyes, and it pissed me off. I retreated behind my wall, even as I walked her backward and pressed her into the window. “Don’t fucking feel sorry for me.”

  “I don’t.” Her brow creased. “I just wanted to ask, was your mother who you wanted me to meet?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded, but was rethinking bringing Lace here. I wasn’t cut out for this shit.

  “She’s not very nice.” The words were spaced out as if Lace measured them carefully before speaking them. Her delicate brows pinched tighter together. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “I wanted you to see her, how she is, so you would get me.”

  “Get you how?”

  “Get that this is me—a son his mother doesn’t even want.” I clenched my fingers into fists, where they pressed into the wall on either side of her pretty head. “Take me or leave me, Lace. I don’t care.” It was bullshit, but it was BS I’d been flinging my whole damn life. “But decide fucking now before this goes any further.”

  I forced my fingers to unclench, and my hand shook a bit as I stroked her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm. Every part of my body tightened as I touched her.

  “I get you.” Lace slid her slender arms around my waist and laid her cheek against my chest.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding as I waited on her verdict. Drawing her closer, I buried my fingers deep in the satiny fall of her hair. “I like this.”

  Acceptance. Warmth. Beauty. I lowered my head and kissed the top of hers.

  “You sound funny,” she said. “Like you’re surprised.”

  “Never held a chick like this.”

  “Really?” she asked. Now she was the one who sounded surprised.

  “Yeah. I get them this close, I just fuck ’em.”

  “Oh.” Lace lifted her head, and after studying me a long moment, her golden eyes widened. “You’re telling the truth.”

  “Fuck yeah, I’m telling the truth. Why would I lie?”

  I tucked a long strand of her hair behind her ear. Then I slid my hands down her arms and wrapped her sexy body in my embrace. Now that I had her, with her knowing everything, I was in no hurry to let her go.

  “You’re pretty, and you smell good,” I said without thinking, and then swallowed. I sounded like a douche.

  “Thank you. It’s my vanilla lotion.” Her voice was lighter, like she was smiling. “You’re very handsome.”

  “You think so?” I lifted my chin. She was smiling. “I look like the married asshole who lied to my mom so he could fuck her.”

  “That’s terrible.” Lace’s smile faltered, and I wanted to kick myself.

  Why had I said that? It was like I wanted to ruin the tenderness of the moment.

  “What I meant to say was, thank you for the compliment, and for defending me today at school,” I said, wrenching the words from a deep part of me that barely existed anymore.

  “Randy’s a jerk,” she said. “And I think you’re worth defending.”

  “Not hardly.” But I was glad she thought so. Lace felt like a chance for me. A chance for something good. A chance I’d never had. But I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

  “I disagree.” She gazed through the plate-glass window of the Fast Mart a long moment, biting her lip. Her eyes were softer when she looked at me again. “Can we go somewhere else?” Going up on her toes, she pressed her lips to my cheek. “Please?”

  “Sure,” I said, barely managing to choke out a reply with so much unexpected emotion tightening my throat. Lace was being sweet to me without me giving her anything, except a glimpse into my life, which was complete and utter shit. I changed my mind, no longer regretting bringing her here. “Where would you like to go?”

  “You’re truly asking and not telling me?” she asked, her eyes dancing.

  “Yeah, I am.” I lifted my hand to my cheek, where warmth from her lips lingered on my skin. Did she know she could ask me for practically anything right now, and I’d find a way to give it to her?

  “Maybe there’s hope for you,” she said with a decisive nod.

  Maybe there actually was, because of her, but I downplayed it.

 
“Unlikely, but don’t be a bitch.” My lips curved as the warmth from her kiss spread to the rest of me. The cold ashes inside my black heart began to glow.

  • • •

  Lace

  “I think we both need hope,” I whispered, skimming my fingers over War’s skin. I understood him, understood how it messed you up having a mother like he did, like we both did.

  He leaned into my caress. “I agree.”

  Suddenly, I felt more mature than him. Stroking the unyielding line of his jaw with my thumb, I noted the roughness of his stubble. It scraped my nerve endings in a pleasurable way. Everything he’d shared, everything he’d shown me tonight, it all resonated deeply.

  I swallowed to moisten my dry throat, and I gave him raw truth, like I used to do with Bryan. “I haven’t had a lot of hope in my life.”

  “I’m sorry. I wish life treated you different. You deserve hope.” War’s eyes softened to the color of chocolate—warm, melted milk chocolate.

  “I think I . . .” I stopped and restarted. It felt like that kind of night, like a new beginning. “I believe we have to make our own hope in this world.”

  “Yes, we do. Though my methods and the lengths I’d go to make hope happen might be more drastic than yours.” He studied me a long beat, then asked softly, “What happened with your parents, Lace? Why aren’t you living with them?”

  Ice water flooded my veins. I dropped my hand and lowered my head.

  “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He captured my hand and brought it to his face, pressing his lips into the center of my cold palm. Warmth pooled in my skin and spread through the rest of me, like ripples on a pond. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. I guess I better get you back home.”

  “It’s not my home,” I blurted, lifting my chin, and his eyes widened. “I mean, I live there, at my uncle’s house, but he doesn’t really want me or Dizzy there.”

  “That’s shitty.”