The Complete Tempest World Box Set

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The Complete Tempest World Box Set Page 91

by Mankin, Michelle


  She’d almost made me lose my edge. She’d almost made me contemplate things I promised myself I’d never ever consider again after Lace. Almost was the operative word though. Not quite. It was time to turn the tables on her. Time to get my focus back where it should always be. On myself and my music. Where I’m in the driver’s seat. Where I’m the one always in control.

  While I continued to watch her, she leaned forward to accept a drink Bryan’s mom brought over. I noticed the subtle play of fabric as it stretched across those awesome tits of hers.

  Yeah sure, I wanted some more of that. Dizzy was right. She was a nice piece. Very responsive. Nothing more. Still didn’t know what her angle was, but I didn’t care. She wanted to play. We’d play, but we’d do it my way. I wasn’t ready to give her up yet, but I had to make sure she understood her place was beneath me. She was mine to take. I wasn’t going to be taken in by her again.

  “Sure, what the hell.” I lifted my chin to Diz. “Later. We’ll meet up back at my place.”

  • • •

  Shaina

  I shook my head in response to Lace’s question though my eyes remained locked on Warren. He seemed to be locked in a serious conversation with Dizzy. As if sensing my perusal, his eyes lifted and our gazes collided, something unsettling flashing in his, something that made his lips twist into an unpleasant smile.

  An icy shiver that felt a little like a warning traveled up my spine. Nervous, I licked my lips beginning to think it might have been better not to have come at all tonight.

  “You could’ve fooled me,” Lace continued along the same vein. “It sure seems serious. I’ve never seen Warren the way he was with you before.” She seemed to be under the same misconception that I’d been under the past several days. I needed to set her straight, set both of us straight, and then get back to the safety of my hotel suite removed from distractions, spend some time analyzing War’s confusing behavior and regroup.

  “We’re not dating, Lace.” My lips thinned as I looked down into the drink cup I held over my lap. The dark liquid of the diet drink reflected my somber thoughts. I tried not to resent this woman who had been given everything I ever wanted and thrown it away for another. I didn’t understand that. I didn’t understand her. I’d do anything or give anything to have Warren back. “I was just there when he needed someone.”

  “Juan, Pedro, Pancho,” King’s loud voice drowned out our conversation. Apparently this was his way to count out the rhythm for the band instead of the more customary one, two, three.

  Head lowered over his instrument, the bassist took a step out fingers moving fast on a rolling rhythm that perfectly accentuated the heavy snare and bass drum beats King laid down. The party goers pushed forward toward the musicians, blocking my view. I rose as though beckoned and threaded my way in between people reaching the front just as a screech of guitars blazed in, Dizzy and Bryan squaring off against each other with combative chords.

  The music was in your face. Loud, angry, and unconventional. Meant for a stadium stage. So intriguing. So irresistible. So perfectly War.

  I loved it.

  Tempest was an assault on the senses, a cataclysmic force, a barrage of sound and movement. My heart pounded harder than the bass beat vibrating inside my chest, the heavy flavor of expectation coating my tongue like an exotic spice so rich my eyes watered.

  Warren should never have left them. This was his band. This was him.

  Sexily swaying with the mic as if it were a dance partner, he was the focal point, the hub, the indelible source of all the energy, meant to be at the helm as the captain of this storm. His ringed fingers gripped the microphone, the unique timbre of his voice saturated the room, and the potent power of his larger than life polarizing personality energized the space.

  “Ok, ok,” he said after the cheering died down. “One more song.” He looked at me. “Most of you know about my old man.” I heard a few commiserating murmurings. “Yeah, he’s an asshole. A waste of oxygen. Except for this cool song I wrote about him. And the lyrics might also apply to some of you out there. You know the type. I don’t need to point them out. Users. Posers. Just like him.”

  My eyes began to burn. I wanted to sink into the floor. I felt like everyone was staring right at me as he sang.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  War

  After we finished kicking fuckin’ ass on the last song, I had to struggle to project calm. Inwardly I was reveling.

  Me right here on stage with these four guys, this was right. Regardless of everything else. I lost sight of that, surrendered something that by rights was mine all for the sake of a woman.

  No more. My number one priority going forward was going to be rectifying that mistake. I didn’t care what it took. I would figure out a way to get my band back. From here on out that interloper Justin Jones was just marking time. He wasn’t Southside. He didn’t belong. This was my band, not his.

  Dizzy would be the first one I would approach. He would be easy to win over. He was practically already there. Bryan might be a little more of a challenge, but I’d use his guilt against him if necessary. King I’d out and out blackmail. I was pretty sure he didn’t want Bryan to know about the clench I’d caught him and Miriam in back in New York. Sager would line up with King. He always did. They were every bit as tight as Bryan and I had been.

  Decision made, a plan of action laid out inside my mind, my lips settled into a satisfied smile before my eyes sought out the second order of business. If Shaina wanted to come here, push her way into my life, play head games with me and mine that was fine.

  So long as she understood how things were going to be.

  Ears ringing as they always did after we played, I bumped shoulders with Diz. “I’m gonna talk to Shaina. Swing on by my place in an hour or so. I’ll take her over with me in the Camaro. There’s really no room in the backseat for more.”

  “In your car you’re probably right.” He laughed. “But you want me to see if I can persuade Missy to join in on the fun? Might be more interesting with four.”

  I started to shake my head, but then eyed Missy. She was hot. Not that it mattered, but being jealous of her seemed to mess with Shaina. I kicked the niggling doubts to the curb. “Yeah,” I told Dizzy lifting my chin. “That sounds like a fine idea.”

  “Ok, then.” Diz clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Nice to have you back, man.”

  “Hold onto that thought. I might need you to stand up for me later.”

  “You can count on it.” Dizzy headed toward Missy. I went in the opposite direction. Shaina was talking to Bryan’s mom, but stopped mid-sentence when I reached them.

  “Warren.” Mrs. Jackson’s eyes went soft. “I’m so sorry about your mom, honey.” She gently touched my face, and I let her, remembering other times when she’d comforted me that way. Especially the one time right before they’d put the cuffs on and carted me off to juvie. Though she never said a word about it to me, I suspected she knew that I’d taken the fall for him. That it had been Bryan and not me behind the wheel of my father’s hotwired car that day.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Jackson.” I removed her hand from my face, but squeezed it before letting it go. “And thanks for coming to the service. It meant a lot to me you being there.” She and my mom hadn’t been close. There’d been no real reason for her to be there other than to show her support for me.

  I had lost a lot more than just Lace when I left the band and my friendship with Bryan behind.

  She peered up at me; sincerity so similar to her son’s shining in her eyes. “I want you to remember that I’m always here for you, Warren. No matter what.” While I tried to tamp down my response to that someone called her name. She asked Shaina and me to excuse her before leaving in the direction of the call.

  Feeling Shaina’s gaze on me, I turned away. I sure as hell didn’t want her to see something that wasn’t there. When I turned back, I had it under control. “Shaina.” I took her arm. “You and I need to talk.”

/>   “I agree.” Her brows came together, forming a crease that shouldn’t have been cute to me, but it was. “I want to explain. I need to tell you why I reacted the way I did, and...”

  “Sure,” I cut her off, being dismissive, acting like it didn’t matter which it did. But I really didn’t want to hear her excuses. It wasn’t going to change what I had planned. I was committed to my course. I wouldn’t let her lead me around by my dick ever again. “Listen,” I ignored her worried frown and that stupid weak part of me that said what I was planning to do was wrong. “I wanna take you back to my place.”

  “Ok,” she agreed immediately, surprising me. I thought I’d have to work harder to convince her to leave the party with me.

  “Let’s go then.” Eyes gleaming triumphantly, I placed my hand on her lower back, applying pressure just above the curve of her fantastic ass. Now that she’d agreed, I didn’t want to waste any more time. I wanted to get her moving and get this thing over with before even my black heart had a chance to rebel.

  “Wait.” She stopped at the door and dug her heels into the floor. “I need my jacket. Dizzy has it.”

  “No problem.” My lips curled. “You two seemed to get along so well I invited him. He’ll bring it by later.”

  • • •

  Shaina

  Heart pounding, I watched Warren out of the corner of my eye as he drove competently steering the Camaro in and around traffic. I was so far gone for him that the sight of his ringed fingers working the stick shift turned me on reminding me of his expertise handling me. Longing to touch him, wanting him to touch me, I had to settle for studying his handsome profile in the glow of the dashboard lights instead. His sexy lips were pressed into a flat line, and though I tried, I couldn’t figure out what was going on inside that complicated head of his.

  The man with me right now was so different from the one I thought I’d known. This man was distant and cold and made me feel more than a little uneasy, especially whenever I thought about that song.

  Beyond frustrated, nerves a wreck, I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans and was about to open my mouth to demand, plead, do whatever it took to get him to open up to me when I glanced out the window and noticed the type of neighborhood we were currently rolling through. It was a neighborhood that had me instinctively reaching over my shoulder to lock my door. If fixings things with him weren’t at such a critical juncture, I might have asked him to turn the car around and insisted we find somewhere else to talk.

  The street was so narrow and the buildings, each seeming to be in a worse state of repair than the last, were so densely packed together that it made me feel claustrophobic. This was an urban jungle, the inner city where graffiti covered every available surface from the billboards to the sidewalks. It seemed to my mind as if whoever had spray-painted the pictures was as desperate to be heard and understood as I was.

  Trash littered the streets. The homeless huddled together in darkened doorways for warmth. Strung out drug addicts rocked back in forth, and hawking pimps escorted scantily clad prostitutes. Everyone else moved at a brisk pace along the sidewalks their shoulders hunched, their eyes to the ground, looking as if they had somewhere to go and needed to get there in a hurry.

  I slumped down in my seat as jaded looking gang bangers with dead eyes watched us as we drove slowly past. Silly of me to be afraid of Warren. He wasn’t a threat to me. He wasn’t dangerous like them.

  Or was he?

  I noticed we were slowing down. Eyes shuttered War spared me a brief glance as he parallel parked in an empty spot in front of a small framed two story house. It was dwarfed by the larger buildings around it. The entire structure was listing to the right side, a couple of steps were missing, and there were dark ominous appearing shadows along the front stoop. The windows had foil taped to the inside instead of blinds and several of the panes were completely broken out. It seemed possible the whole thing might collapse in on itself at any moment, just like my courage.

  “We’re here, Sweetness.” He gave me a long measured look. “Not exactly the type of accommodation that you’re used to I’m sure.”

  “Warren.” I put my hand on his arm, wanting to talk before we got out, afraid that somehow the longer the delay the further away he might get from me, but he shrugged me off. “Let’s get inside. It’s late, and it’s not safe to linger.” He slid out, slammed his door, and rounded the hood, reaching my side just as I was closing the passenger door.

  “War,” a gruff voice called out, startling me.

  He froze, just for a moment, before he stepped in front of me, using his arm to move me behind him. “Gerome,” he returned.

  “I heard about your old lady. Sucks man.”

  War nodded. I could practically feel the coiled tension radiating off him. This guy made him nervous. There was a definite creeptastic vibe rolling off Gerome that made me feel the same way. He was as tall as Warren and his features were hidden beneath a hooded sweatshirt.

  “I’ve got some really good shit,” Gerome leaned in. “Let you have the entire lot for five large.”

  “No, man. That’s ok. I’ve laid off since the thing with Lace.”

  Gerome lifted his chin, giving me a brief glimpse of his cold dark eyes before he lowered it. “Alright,” he said after a pause, tapping War twice on the shoulder. “If you change your mind…”

  “I’ve got your number.”

  “Yeah?” Gerome made a move as if to continue past us. War grew even more tense, arms straight out on either side of me as if to keep me safely blocked in behind him. White teeth flashed in Gerome’s darkened hood. I could feel him staring my way. Terrified now, I ducked my head into Warren’s shoulder. “Cute bitch. You wanna…”

  “No,” War cut in.

  Gerome laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound. “Alright. Alright. I can see how it is. I’ll get going.” He drifted away bleeding silently back into the shadows.

  “Get inside. Now!” Warren’s voice was gruff and he moved me in front of him while he followed closely behind. I was shaking and wanted to reach back for his hand, but didn’t know if he would take it.

  I was so unsure of him now, so uncertain.

  He unlocked the door and threw on a light switch as soon as we were in. I looked at the neat, but sparsely decorated interior of his home. My brow creased. It wasn’t just that there weren’t any knickknacks. There wasn’t anything at all that gave the place personality. Not even pictures. Why weren’t there even any photographs on the wall?

  When War had invited me, I had been excited about the opportunity to see his childhood home. I had hoped to see something that would give me more insight into the man he had become. But there was nothing, no evidence to suggest that he had lived here at all.

  It felt barren. Bleak. Sad.

  Distracted, I was frowning when he turned me. I looked up into eyes that were hard, unfathomable, the unfortunate theme tonight with him.

  I drew in a breath, my eyes roaming his searching for softness, but finding them as cold as his home. “Warren,” I began knowing that I had to get through to him. “I should have stood up for you in front of my father this morning. That was my bad.” I reached for his face, wanting to sigh with satisfaction to finally have my fingers touching him, the surface of his rigid jaw warm and coarse beneath them. “I know you’re mad. I know you wanted to hurt me back. I know that’s why you were at the party with someone else.” He stiffened. “It’s just that I was too afraid. I’ve never in my life stood up to him, not even on my own behalf. But I did after you left today. It was him, not me that started this nonsense about you and me and Alex that’s running through the media.”

  Something flickered in his eyes, then went away. “I told you earlier it doesn’t matter.” His ringed fingers curled around my wrists before he removed my hands from his face, making it clear that he hadn’t wanted them there in the first place. “I get it. It’s fine.” He leaned past me to lock the door.

  His rejecting my touch stung my prid
e, but I swallowed it down and found my courage. “No it’s not fine or you wouldn’t be treating me like this.”

  “Like what?” He spun around, his eyes narrowed on mine. “Tell me? How am I treating you exactly?” He came so close that the points of his black boots touched the tips of my suede.

  The callous expression on his face absolutely gutted me. I wasn’t in danger of losing him. He was already gone. The man staring so dispassionately at me was a complete stranger. I didn’t understand him and he frightened me.

  I involuntarily backed up a step, but he moved so quickly I wasn’t allowed to keep the inch of separation I’d gained. His gaze dropped to my chest and that was the only warning I received before he reached out and hooked his finger inside my blouse.

  I gulped, pulse thundering a sudden deluge of liquid desire flooding my senses as he traced across my curves. Only he could do this to me, so easily make me feel desire that completely fogged my thinking. Impossible heat set me on fire making me a foregone conclusion even before he used both hands to cover and weigh my breasts. His face turning intense his eyes blazing with a fire of their own as he watched me, watched the way my nipples hardened beneath his touch. Even frightened I still wanted him and my body still responded.

  “I’ll treat you how I please.” He filled in since I’d gone completely mute. “Like I want to finish what we started.” His voice was thick and his eyes were completely swallowed up with darkness now. Then he lowered his head and I stopped analyzing when his warm lips touched mine, gentle at first, coaxing a response. Not that persuasion was necessary. I was already his to take.

 

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