The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  “That’s just it. I didn’t see him,” she mumbled and for some strange reason her gaze tipped briefly my way. “It’s my own fault. I could’ve prevented the whole thing if I’d been paying better attention.” She removed Mel’s hands. “I just wanna go home now. Forget it ever happened.” She glanced at her watch. “Shit.” A bolt of panic struck her face. “I’ve missed my bus.” Her already pale skin turned paler than usual.

  “No worries, Honey. I’ll take you in my car,” Mel offered. “Probably get you home earlier than the bus would anyway.”

  I told myself I was relieved and not disappointed that Mel was taking care of her. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to drive her home. And after what had happened I sure didn’t like the idea of her on the bus alone. Not that she would have considered letting me take her anyway. I’d seen the looks of disapproval she sent my way. Censure I’d surely earned. So I’d played the hero tonight. That certainly didn’t fundamentally change anything. She knew what I was.

  “That would be great. Thanks.” April still seemed uneasy, still shaken though she had her determined mantle back in place and covered those feelings well. “I’ll just get my stuff out of my locker.”

  Mel turned to me the moment her friend disappeared from view. “You think she’ll be ok?” Mel’s brow formed an uncharacteristic frown.

  “I’m sure,” I answered injecting into my tone a false certainty that I didn’t really feel. I knew how these types of things could linger in your subconscious. “Eventually. Just give her some time, Bluebelle.” I tucked a strand of sapphire hair behind her ear. Her expression softened, eyes that matched the deep blue of her hair glistening with a misplaced worshipful gleam that was beginning to worry me. “I’m sure her husband,” I noticeably stumbled on the title, “will know what to do.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  April

  Mel double parked her powder blue Fiat in front of my building. Even though we’d been friends since I started working at the Mine, this was only the second time I’d let her bring me home. The other time I’d been nearly incapacitated by food poisoning. It wasn’t that she wasn’t my best friend. She totally was. And it wasn’t that I didn’t trust her. I did. She knew me better than anyone, aside from my mom, but even with Mel I had to keep certain secrets, those definite lines of separation between work and home.

  She turned to look at me. In the pinkish glow from the streetlamp, there was no mistaking the crease of concern between her brows.

  “I’m ok,” I announced preemptively curling my fingers tighter around the cold metal of the door handle and twisting it. I desperately wanted to get out and avoid any further discussion about what had happened tonight. She latched onto my arm before I could escape. Her frown matched my own when I looked over at her.

  “Why do you always shut me out?” She blew out a breath that lifted her hair. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing, but I do. I’m only two years younger than you, April. And honestly anyone would realize that what happened tonight was a bigger deal than you’re making it out to be. Stuff like that can really mess with your head.” Her eyes searched mine. “I told you about that professor coming onto me. All he did was feel me up, but you insisted that I talk to someone about it. What happened tonight was way worse. Don’t you think you should go to the hospital to get checked out? Talk to a counselor? Press charges?”

  “No. I told Tan, no. I’m fine. Really,” I insisted and shook my head vehemently. Lies and more lies. I was so practiced at them. I should do every one of those things. The advice was sound. But I couldn’t. That just wasn’t an option for me. She couldn’t understand. I had to let it go. Deal with it on my own like everything else in my shitty life. One day at a time. Sometimes just one hour. Survive. Make it to the next one. “It wasn’t that bad.” It could have been. Sure. But almost isn’t the same. I knew that. The devil was in those details. And if it hadn’t been for Dizzy… I rubbed the chill bumps from my arms. He’d been something else. All that fury on my behalf…

  No, I told myself. You don’t have a protector in your life anymore. It’s up to you to take care of yourself, April. That’s what you need to focus on. Not some silly fantasy.

  Good news for my friend, though. I now felt like maybe Dizzy wasn’t such a bad guy for her after all. Maybe he could be the kind of guy she really needed, someone who would keep her safe, defend her. Maybe he could give up being the player for the right woman.

  “I love you, Sweetie.” I touched her sweet face. “I appreciate your concern, but you’ve got to let me handle this in my own way. Ok?”

  “Alright.” She gave in, but her lip jutted out. She definitely wasn’t happy about it. “I understand. I don’t want to tell you what to do. You know how I hate it when people do that with me. Just promise you’ll be honest with me, talk to me, and let me go with you if you change your mind.”

  “I promise,” I whispered, wishing things were different, wishing I could tell her the truth about tonight and about everything else. But I couldn’t let my karma blow back on her or anyone else. It was my life. It was what I’d made it. I had to continue walking out the results of my choices to whatever end awaited me.

  “Good.” She dipped her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, for yoga?”

  “Sure, I’ll meet you there.” I stepped out of the car and leaned over the door, needing to let her go, but wanting her to stay. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “No problem. Anytime,” she replied.

  She absolutely meant that, and I felt a little lighter as I rounded the back of the car and climbed the steps to my building, a former residence on Davie Street that had been converted into eight studio apartments. I plastered on a smile for her, waving goodbye from the top, and turned to slide my key card in to enter the building.

  The temperature inside the foyer wasn’t a whole lot warmer than it was outside. As I breathed on my fingers to defrost them, the wave of adrenaline I’d been coasting on since the assault drained away. Suddenly weak, my limbs lost their elasticity. My body felt heavier than a caseload of Molson.

  Feeling like I was sinking into the floor, I slowly blinked, watching until her tail lights disappeared around the corner, my fingers curling around my cell. I wanted to hit the redial, call her back and tell her the truth. At least the truth about how badly tonight had rattled me. But I’d gotten so used to hiding my feelings that I wouldn’t even know where I would begin.

  Eventually, I managed to move, turning reluctantly toward my apartment. That was when I noticed it. His motorcycle parked out front.

  Shit. My heart skipped a beat. I glanced at my watch. I wasn’t late, thanks to Mel. But it was never anything good when he came home early from work. Not anymore. Not for a long time.

  I felt the pressure of everything, the weight of all of it hanging over my head like a steel anvil, if I made one misstep, it would fall and crush me. Tears built behind my eyes. I was so incredibly weary. So tired of being strong. I’d already been through enough crap tonight. Why couldn’t I catch even a tiny break?

  After breathing in and out a couple of times, I managed to pull back my shoulders but could barely do more than shuffle my feet on the carpet runner the closer I got to the door.

  Maybe I’m worrying for nothing, I told myself. Maybe he would be too tired tonight. Maybe he was already asleep. Buoyed by that fleeting hope, I got the key in the lock with minimal hand shaking and pushed open the door.

  “James,” I gasped. I almost ran into him. His ambush felt too similar to what had happened earlier at the Mine. He’d obviously been waiting for me, his features mostly in shadow because of the overhead light fixture behind him. Double Shit. I liked to be prepared. I didn’t like when I didn’t have time to get a read on his mood.

  “Babe, you know I don’t like to come home to an empty house.” His deep voice was always a little gravelly. A voice I used to love. One that could make me shiver with desire, but now only made me tremble with dread. “You didn’t even leave a
lamp on.”

  “Yes, I know. I’m sorry.” Phantom fingers of fear tightened around my already traumatized throat. “I wasn’t expecting you home so early.” My keys rang as I dropped them in the glass dish we kept on a tall chest by the door. Purposefully, I kept my back turned to him while I unbuttoned my coat and hung it on the hook on the wall.

  “How about a proper greeting from my wife?” James put his hand on my shoulder. It felt heavy and warm, but instead of being reassured by it, my knees went all wonky and not in a good way. I was more nervous now with him than I’d been with that plaid shirted prick at the club. Probably because with him I knew exactly what he was capable of. Trepidation prickling my skin like a thousand needles, I turned to face him, months of practice helping me keep my expression blank.

  My husband was still a very handsome man. Dark blonde hair, blue eyes, square jaw, a head turner even at thirty, nine years older than me. He didn’t look that much different than when I’d first fallen head over heels for him as a senior in high school. But I’d been so naïve, so like Mel, impressed by an older man’s interest when I should have been wary. But I’d only seen what I wanted to see believing the best about him, never digging any deeper, not having even the tiniest inkling that I’d end up living with one of the worst.

  “Can I get you something to eat? Are you hungry?” Please say yes.

  “Sure.” He slid his hand to my shoulder, long fingers pressing in deep and just a little too hard as he leaned down to brush a kiss across my lips. “Something to eat might be nice. For a start.”

  Shit. Nausea crashed over me. He was feeling amorous. I ducked my head and started for the kitchen, but I wasn’t fast enough.

  He grabbed my arm and swung me back around, his grip tight enough to hurt. “What the hell happened to your neck?” His eyes were wide, his voice low and angry.

  “A guy at the club got too pushy.” Heart hammering, I stepped back hoping he’d let me keep the distance between us. “He put his forearm into it.” I freed my hair from its holder, dropping the elastic into my pocket before running my fingers through the loose strands, trying to act nonchalant. “Tan took care of him.” No way was I going to mention the role Dizzy had played. I knew his involvement didn’t have anything to do with me personally, but I knew that’s not how James would interpret it. He was always too quick to fly off the handle, and way too quick to call in his scary friends to help him enforce his skewed sensibilities.

  “I should fucking hope so. What kind of sloppy operation is he running over there?” He let me keep my space and I took immediate advantage of the opportunity to gain even more distance between us. I hurried through the living room filled with oversized masculine furniture and went straight to the kitchen. He followed on my heels continuing his rant. “I’d never tolerate shit like that happening to my staff.”

  No he wouldn’t. I knew he was telling the truth about that, but then again his club and the Mine were two entirely different things.

  “I’m going to make myself an egg sandwich with the hard boiled eggs I cooked earlier today.” I swallowed to moisten my dry throat. “Is that ok with you?”

  “I suppose so. If that’s the best you can offer.” He stood beside me near the small kitchen table while I gathered what I needed from the fridge. I set an armful of condiments beside him, pretending I was comfortable with him this close when in reality I was cringing inside.

  He suddenly grabbed my chin and tipped my head back. “We’re not through talking about this, April.” I blinked at him, holding my breath. “I told you before that I don’t like you working there.”

  My chest got so tight that my vision tunneled from lack of air. He made me feel as trapped as I’d been when backed into the corner by that jerk at the club. Somehow I kept my head, knowing it would go better for me if I didn’t make a big deal about this. Sure he controlled the game, and held the trump card he could always play, but I had a few cards in my hand, too. Hoping it would allow me to keep working where I wanted to, at a job that was as important to me as my stories were. I played one now.

  I forced a smile peering prettily at him through my lashes. I held the look even though his expression remained rock hard. “You sure that’s what you want? Me to quit? I guess I could always come tend bar for you.” Back when we were first dating, I used to visit him at work. He’d only been a manager then, now he was part owner, but it’d been obvious he’d been uncomfortable with me there even back then. I used to think he was embarrassed by what he did. Now I knew it was because he had his own brand of compartmentalizing. I’d had my suspicions confirmed with my own eyes. I told myself that it didn’t matter, and that I didn’t care. But deep down I knew that was just another lie.

  I took a chance and pushed a little harder in the opposite direction of what I wanted to throw him off. “I could give my notice tomorrow. I’m sure Tan can get one of the other bartenders to take my shifts.”

  “No need for that,” he stated without even pausing to consider.

  I almost sagged in relief.

  “But I want you to be more careful, babe.” His dark brows lowered. He let go of my chin and stroked my cheek with his thumb before turning a chair around and straddling it.

  “I will,” I whispered. No way I wanted to repeat any part of this evening from the time that creep put his hands on me until now. Although it’d been nice what Dizzy had done, nice to have someone rushing in to rescue me instead of turning their back on me, nice for once not to feel so abandoned and alone. But I couldn’t afford to let Mel’s issues distract me again. I’d have to be more focused and vigilant about my own safety in the future.

  I quickly finished making his sandwich. I wanted to be alone with my own thoughts, take a shower, and scrub every bit of taint from tonight off my skin. I handed James his plate before starting to work on mine. I sat down across from him, and we ate our late night dinner together, but in silence except for the muted sounds of the old building creaking and our porcelain plates scraping against the wooden table top.

  “You finished?” I asked after I’d finally managed to choke down half of mine. My stomach was still so tightly knotted I couldn’t make myself eat anymore. It tasted like ashes.

  He nodded and slid out his phone, finger gliding around the display. I picked up our plates, rinsed them, and put them in the washer. When I turned back around his head was still bowed over the screen, his face blue from the reflection.

  “I’m beat. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. You staying up?” Please, please stay up.

  “Yeah for a little while. Don’t hover, babe. You know how that irritates me.”

  “Alright.” I buried how relieved I was by his response. Maybe I’d get a reprieve tonight. Maybe he’d replaced Rebecca with someone else. Maybe we’d go back to me just being a prize he liked knowing was at home and on his shelf. I draped my arms around his neck and kissed the edge of his mouth, between his soft lips and the rough stubble. “Goodnight,” I whispered.

  He mumbled the same without kissing me back. His emotional detachment didn’t even make my heart twist anymore.

  I stripped down once I was inside our bathroom, shoved my clothes in the overstuffed hamper, and stepped into the shower, zealously scrubbing my skin with my loofah and my peony scented bath gel grateful for the running water that camouflaged the tears and the sound of my sobs.

  Feeling a little better afterward, I dried off, slathered my body with lotion that matched my bath gel, and pulled my robe off its hook. I was so tired, so ready to get into bed and burrow under the covers.

  When I pushed through the double doors, my heart plummeted, sinking like a heavy weight into the pit of my stomach.

  James had a dark look in his eye as he came toward me, his shirt off, his jeans still on. His broad shoulders and his muscular torso loomed larger than usual illuminated by a single lamp from his nightstand. His shadow fell over me, and I wanted to run. I didn’t want this.

  He gave my body a leisurely heavy
lidded head to toe scan that ended back on my chest. He moved directly in front of me. I started to shake, the blood pumping through my veins turning to ice. I couldn’t help it. It was either tremble with the effort it took to remain still or flee. I dropped my eyes. Better to stare at that solid wall of his chest, than into the merciless gaze of a man who didn’t love me. Who only wanted to control me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Dizzy

  I popped in ear buds and scrolled through my latest playlist. My musical tastes tended to run in phases, and my current obsession was British punk. I selected a tune from my list and cranked it.

  The frantic rhythm of the Sex Pistols “God Save the Queen” blasted my eardrums. My fingers flexed automatically duplicating the chords. I’d get out my SG and figure it out later but that would have to wait. For right now, I needed to run. I needed the punch of adrenaline and my feet pounding the pavement to clear my mind.

  Oakleys protected my overly sensitive red rimmed eyes from the morning sunlight. I’d thrown back way too many shots of Tequila with that Mine waitress last night. I pulled my hood over my head and threw open the glass door. Exiting the residential side of the Sutton Place, I broke into a sprint. Turning left, I passed the circular driveway and headed downhill toward the waterfront.

  This early on Sunday, only a few intrepid souls wandered the downtown streets. I liked feeling as though I had the entire city to myself. I always felt most comfortable in an urban setting, whether on the road with Tempest or back home in Southside Seattle.

  Concentrating on my rhythmic breathing, the air a cold punch to my lungs and a bracing slap to my face, I felt my lips settle into a serene smile. Running was turning out to be a pretty decent substitute for one of my former habits. It took the edge off like the drugs I’d once depended on. My sister approved, but I hadn’t really needed her endorsement to prompt the change. That night in Orlando had been a brutal wakeup call for all of us.