The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  “It’s okay,” I said, only it wasn’t, not even close. War had been my boyfriend, Dizzy and Tempest my family. I’d depended on them, and they’d left me behind. “Dizzy’s explained about all the pressure you guys were under. About all the other offers you’d already turned down because no one wanted a woman in the group.”

  “You need to know I told War not to accept that deal,” he said, and that part was news to me. His fingers tightened on my arms and his gray-green eyes stared intently into mine. “But he was so sure that once we were signed, he’d be able to convince RCA to give you a deal of your own.”

  I knew that was one of War’s excuses. “What’s done is done.” I buttoned up my jacket with sharp movements. “Like a lot of other things, it wasn’t meant to be. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  It hurt. It would always hurt, but I couldn’t hold grudges. At least I was back with my brother and Tempest, the only family I’d ever really known.

  Bryan’s gaze moved across my face as if he was working something out in his mind.

  “Yeah? Well, I’m sure we all would’ve handled things differently in the past if we could.” His brow creased, and his voice lowered to that intimate tone that never failed to make my insides quiver. “What happened to you, Lace? One minute you were with War, and then Martin the next?”

  I shrugged. “I did what I had to do.”

  How dare he stand there judging me? What other option had there been? Bryan had rejected me. War had betrayed me. I had to move out of my uncle’s house. Chad had problems of his own, and he couldn’t take me in, anyway. Martin had been my only option.

  A rush of anger swept over me. “But that’s what girls like me usually do, right, Bry?” The emphasis I put on his nickname made his eyes narrow. That was what his family and closest friends called him. What I’d called him too until after prom night.

  “What the hell does that mean?” His eyes flared, and he flicked the unlit cigarette he’d just pulled out to the ground.

  “Girls that put out. Girls like you’re used to. Girls you sleep with one time, then toss aside in favor of the next one.”

  “You’re not a slut, Lace.” He grabbed hold of my shoulders, his nostrils flaring as he glared down at me.

  “I know that’s what you think. Why keep up the pretense?” I shrugged out of his grasp, stifling the urge to yell at him, or even worse, to cry. “I heard what you said to Dizzy right outside my bedroom door after we slept together.”

  The old wound ripped open, but I didn’t want to keep it covered anymore. It was time we got it all out, even if it was raw and gaping.

  A shocked gasp came out of Bryan as if my words had knocked the air out of his lungs.

  So what if he was shocked that I’d finally brought it up after all this time? I turned away. It was good he knew that I knew. This was what I wanted, wasn’t it? But I couldn’t bear to hear him lie or see the pity in his eyes as he made up an excuse.

  “Lace, listen.” He moved in front of me, stopping my forward progress.

  I saw the regret on his face before a cold gust of wind whipped a strand of hair into my eyes. They watered instantly, and I blinked, reaching to pull it away, but he beat me to it. Under the spell of tenderness I read in his gaze, I froze while his fingertips skimmed my cheek, gently brushing the tendril of hair aside.

  Softly, he said, “I didn’t—”

  “Hey, you guys ready for dinner?”

  The familiar voice broke the spell, and I turned to find a taxi idling at the curb beside us, War leaning out the window. I must have given him a blank stare, because his confused gaze moved to Bryan.

  “What’s going on? You didn’t what?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Bryan

  After the concert at the Orpheum, we were required to attend the meet and greet with Brutal Strength. At the Mantra restaurant next door, candles flickered, crystal glasses clinked together, and soft music played in the background as the band members from both groups mingled with the few Bostonians fortunate enough to get VIP passes.

  I’d been nursing a rum and Coke while trying to keep a low profile all evening. I definitely didn’t feel like talking to anyone, except for Lace. My stomach was a mess of churning acid after the bombshell she’d dropped on me earlier.

  Frustrated, I yanked a fistful of hair through my fingers. All this time, I thought she’d changed her mind. After all, she’d gone right back with War afterward. I never knew that she’d heard me say those things to her brother that I didn’t mean. This was so fucked up. I needed to talk to her and explain, but I hadn’t been able to catch her alone.

  “Hey, Bullet.” A young woman heavy on the makeup brushed her breasts against my arm. Her nipples were clearly visible through the tight white T-shirt she wore.

  Oh hell. I took a step back when just days earlier, I would have been full-steam ahead.

  Confusion creasing her brow, the woman glanced back across the crowded room. War tipped his shot glass in our direction. “War told me you’d take me to the bus,” she said, her lips rounding into a pout.

  “Not tonight, babe.” I wasn’t pleased that War had sent this girl over like an appetizer to sample while Lace was watching. “Why don’t you go try Dizzy? I’d bet he wouldn’t mind giving you a tour.”

  “Fine,” she whispered.

  As she walked away, I returned my focus to across the room. Lace was perched in War’s lap. Her beautiful whiskey-colored gaze connected with mine briefly before flitting away. I sighed, my chest burning with regret. No wonder her attitude had changed so dramatically toward me.

  At least she’d worn the dress tonight, the pink one from the vintage shop, which was my attempt at a peace offering. I’d placed a call to the shop, and Janie had helped me arrange delivery to the hotel. It looked wonderful on Lace. The material clung to her figure like it had been made for her, just as it had when she’d tried it on in the shop.

  Her wearing it tonight has to mean something. She can forgive me, can’t she?

  The long sleeves flared at the elbows, and sitting as she was now, the bottom hem lay just on this side of decency. But where War’s hand rested on her thigh beneath the hem of her dress wasn’t decent. It was crass, sending the wrong message about the kind of woman Lace was. I could tell by her downcast expression that it reinforced the erroneous low opinion she had of herself.

  I now knew I shouldered some of the blame for that, but dammit, War was treating her like one of the groupies.

  As if he sensed my interest, he shifted in front of her, blocking my view. Access denied.

  If I hadn’t panicked that morning, if I hadn’t made those stupid comments to Dizzy, could it have been us together right now, her eyes shining up at me, her face tilted up to mine?

  I should let it go. I should let her go. But that’s what I’d done two years ago, and I didn’t know if I had it in me to do again.

  Even for War.

  I swallowed and moved to stare out the windows, my gaze unfocused as my mind rewound to high school. That day when Lace had first walked back into my life again, no longer a child but a beautiful woman, one who turned out to be far beyond my reach . . .

  • • •

  Nearly four years ago

  “Bryan Jackson!”

  Hearing my name, I slammed my locker door closed and turned around. “Dizzy!” I grinned, dropped my backpack on the floor, and clapped my old friend on the back. “Since when did you start going to Southside High?”

  “Since today. My uncle took a new job, so we had to move. Now we’re here.”

  “Ah. Well, that’s great. My mom has a new job too. She finished nursing school and works at Seattle General. We live at the Grammercy Apartments on Rosedale now.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “It is.” I studied Dizzy. He looked the same but a little older, his spiked hair a two-tone color now. “How have things been since you moved out of University House?” I asked, turning away from my locker.

&n
bsp; “Okay, I guess.” Dizzy fell into step beside me like we’d never been apart. We headed out of the building together. “It sure as hell’s better living with him than it was with our mother.”

  “How’s Lace?” I asked, pushing the bar to open the heavy outside door.

  “She’s all right,” he said, stepping outside with me. “Mostly, she goes her own way now, and I go mine. She has a huge attitude,” he muttered, zipping up his hoodie. “Way smart. Her head’s so big, it practically needs its own zip code.”

  “I can see that happening. She always made good grades. And she sure used to crave a lot of attention.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. She’s such a center-stage hog. You should come by and see for yourself,” Dizzy said with an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle. “Why don’t you come by the house later, around nine? My uncle works the night shift, and a group of us are gonna hang out, maybe jam some in the garage. I have a used amp and a sweet Fender I’d like to show you. It doesn’t sound too bad.”

  “No shit. You really taking the idea of a career in music seriously?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “I’m working on it.”

  “Me too. And I sure as hell would like to try out your Fender.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I have a beat-up Epiphone I could bring over.”

  “Sounds great. If you need an amp to plug into, I could hook you up with one.”

  “Cool.” I adjusted the strap on my backpack. “You mind if I bring along a friend? He actually sings pretty good.”

  “Sure, man. Whatever,” Dizzy said as an Oldsmobile that was more Bondo than metal pulled up alongside us. “That’s my ride.” He motioned, then turned to give me a fist bump. “I gotta go back inside and find Lace. But I’ll catch you later.”

  • • •

  Later that evening, War and I sauntered up the short driveway to the detached garage, met by loud music and a pack of teens. Dizzy handed us a couple of red Solo cups filled with beer. We sat down to get acquainted, but before long, I noticed that War had lost focus on the conversation. His gaze was riveted on something over my shoulder.

  “Dude.” War grabbed Dizzy’s arm and pointed. “Who’s that smoking babe?”

  Dizzy turned around, groaning as he rolled his eyes. “My sister.”

  Holy shit.

  Hair that used to lean more toward dark gold had lightened. It was long and straight now, and the curled ends brushed across the top of a really nice pair of tits. She was practically falling out of the tight camisole and sweater set she wore. Her narrow hips and long slender legs were sexy as hell in a pair of tight jeans. No wonder War was distracted.

  Lace Lowell had grown up into a total knockout.

  The guy she was talking to touched her arm, and a primal urge rose inside me. I wanted to push that guy the fuck away from her.

  Evidently feeling the weight of our stares, Lace turned in our direction. Those familiar amber eyes met mine in a collision that left me reeling. She blinked slowly before her lips curved up and she glided over, her hips drawing my attention as they swayed.

  Before I had a chance to make my move, War intercepted her. Grabbing her by the arms, he pulled her into him, even rocking his hips suggestively near hers.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said, using the same line I’d heard him use a hundred times before. “Name’s Warren. Friends call me War, but you can call me whatever the fuck you want.” He eased back, looked her over, and shook his head in disbelief. “Damn, you’re hot, baby.”

  Her cheeks turned as pink as her sweater set.

  As War intertwined his fingers with hers and led her over, my stomach took a crashing nosedive into the pavement. She wasn’t likely to notice me with War around. Girls took to War even more readily now than they had when we’d been in middle school. To my dismay, it appeared that Lace was no exception.

  “We were just talking about our band with your brother. I’m the lead singer,” War told her.

  Seriously? We didn’t have a band. We’d only just discussed the idea a couple of minutes ago. But that was just like War. He’d shoot off his mouth and throw out a grandiose idea, even if most of the time nothing ever came of it.

  “Lace,” I said, my tongue suddenly too thick for my mouth. “It’s good to see you.”

  Damn, she was even more gorgeous up close. The garage spotlights made her hair shine, and her amber eyes sparkled with laughter. Her smile was sexy as hell, and her lips practically begged to be kissed.

  “Bry,” she said, her voice low and flirty as she checked me out from my button-down to my boots. “You grew up nice.”

  “You too, Lace.” I shoved my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, hoping she couldn’t tell that there was a lot more up at the moment than just my height. I’d never been so tongue-tied or so undone by a girl.

  “A band, huh?” Her smile widened, and she turned toward War. “You’ve certainly got the arrogance to be a lead singer.” She reached out and touched his face, tilting his chin one way and then the other as she studied him. “You’re definitely handsome enough to pull it off.” Her voice had lowered to a sexy purr that sizzled like an electrical current beneath my skin.

  Then she turned to me. “So, if he’s the lead, you’d be . . .”

  When she paused, I filled in. “The guitarist.”

  “Ah, Slash. I should have guessed. Just like when we were kids.”

  I nodded, my heart thundering inside my chest. I wanted her to touch me like she’d touched War. Instead, she trailed her gaze over me, giving me a lingering half-lidded appraisal.

  “Yeah,” she said huskily. “You could totally rock the brooding guitarist role. I’d throw my panties at you.”

  “Would you now?” Playing along, I leaned in and cocked a brow.

  “Uh-huh.” She leaned in too, her face tilted up as she whispered, “If I were wearing any.”

  Holy hell! I reached for her arm, but War pulled me away.

  “I need a beer,” he said.

  “What?” My mind was still turning over the panties thing.

  “You thirsty, babe?” War asked Lace over his shoulder.

  “I could use a beer, Mr. McMoves.”

  “All right.” War laughed. “We’ll be right back.”

  Reluctantly, I followed War. While he filled a cup from the keg, my mind reeled with thoughts of Lace.

  “Bryan.” War shook my arm.

  “Huh?” I asked.

  “I’ve gotta have her.”

  “Lace?” I laughed. “You only just met her.”

  “I’m fucking serious, man.” War ran a hand over his face while holding his beer steady in the other. “I mean it. I’ve never felt this way around a chick.”

  My eyes narrowed. War was never serious about any woman.

  “Come on, War. She’s just fifteen. You’ll be bored with her in no time.” I cast a quick glance around. “Let me ask Dizzy if he knows anyone.” I lowered my voice. “Someone older, more interesting and experienced. You know, like you usually go for.”

  War frowned, his head cocked to the side. “What’s your problem?” Tension crackled in the air between us, and he straightened. “You think Lace is too good for me?”

  “Of course not. I’m not saying anything. I just don’t think she’s your type.”

  “You gotta be kidding. She sure the fuck is. Bold, sassy, sexy as hell.” He raised his brows, looking at me like I’d lost my mind. “How’s that not my type?”

  “Okay.” I shrugged, trying to be casual about it. Maybe he’d let it go. I prayed he would.

  “Bryan.” War put his hand on my arm. “We’ve been through a lot of shit together, haven’t we?”

  I nodded.

  “And I’ve always had your back, haven’t I?”

  “Yeah, but I really don’t see what this has to do with—”

  “Took that stint in juvie when you wrecked my old man’s car,” he said quickly. Still doing the community service hours.” A shadow fell across War’s face, giv
ing him a sinister look.

  Grimly, I nodded. He’d done all that for me and more. I owed him.

  “I saw how you looked at her, man,” he said, deadly serious. “But I don’t want you coming between me and this chick, understand? This one’s mine.”

  That night, I made a promise based on our friendship. I figured War would get tired of Lace in a week or so, like he always had with all the other girls before. Then I’d be free to make my move.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way. And that promise ended up costing me more over the years than I ever could have imagined.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Lace

  Present day

  As I sat next to War, my gaze followed the attractive brunette Bryan had just shot down. As she pulled herself unsteadily onto a bar stool, her shoulders sagged. The weight of Bryan’s rejection had obviously hit her hard.

  I can so relate.

  Bryan hadn’t been the first Tempest guy she’d approached during the meet and greet. She’d made overtures to all of them, except for my brother.

  I watched her knock back another shot before she swiveled around on her chair and scanned the room. She stood, swayed a bit, and crossed the room toward Dizzy. He already had two girls with him, one on his lap and another one beside him. The brunette stood in front of him at least five minutes before he finally acknowledged her.

  “Whatcha staring at, babe?” War asked me.

  “Nothing,” I muttered distractedly. I wasn’t about to share. I didn’t know why I found myself so interested in the girl, or why the dismissive way the guys were treating her disturbed me so much. Or maybe I just didn’t want to examine my reasons too closely.

  Dizzy waved her off too.

  Shit. I stiffened when she rushed past me with tears in her eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

  I slid War’s hand off my thigh and went to look for her. I found her in the restroom, her hands braced on the edges of the porcelain sink. Telltale trails of mascara ran down her cheeks. In the mirror, eyes flooded with pain met mine before looking away. I obviously wasn’t the one she hoped to see.