Chayton's Tempest

by Aliyah Burke

  Maverick sank back to the black cushion of the barstool

  totally blown away. She’d known his full name. The bouncers

  moved off which left him facing a distrustful young man.

  “Hey,” he said to the man glaring at him. “What is her last

  name?”

  Black eyes narrowed as he stared at the man who had

  made his mother lose control. “Why should I tell you

  anything?” he snapped.

  “Look, kid,” Maverick growled. “I want to know how

  she knows me.”

  Those hard eyes looked him over derisively before he

  lifted his shoulders. “Don’t know.” Then he walked away.

  Draining the rest of his beer, a very shaken up Maverick

  walked out of the bar and into the night. Casting a glance over

  his shoulder at the name of the bar, he figured it was time to do

  some investigative work. It hadn’t been anything less than pure

  hatred that came from her mouth, and he wanted to know why.

  Four

  The door to the office opened and Tempest found herself

  looking at her son across the desk. “What’s going on, Mom?”

  “Just someone I’d thought was long gone from my life.”

  Just the man who gave me you.

  “I have never seen you get like that, especially at work.”

  Dakota leaned back and rested his chin on his fingers.

  “I’m just really tired.” She ran her hands over her face

  with a groan.

  “Go home.”

  Her eyes flew open. “What?”

  “Go home, Mom. I can handle the bar.” Dakota pinned

  her with a look that dared her to challenge him.

  “Okay, but if you need me, call.”

  Her son grinned. “I have been doing this for a long time;

  I won’t need you. Go home.”

  Standing, Tempest moved around the desk and hugged

  her son. “You are such a great kid, Dak. I love you.”

  “Love you, too, Mom. I’ll walk you out.”

  Tempest said goodnight to her staff and allowed her son

  to escort her out to her GMC Envoy. He unlocked the door for

  her and hugged her one more time. “I’ll see you at home,” she

  told him.

  Dakota nodded. “Okay. Love you.” He turned around

  and jogged back in the establishment.

  Heaving a huge sigh, Tempest lifted her foot to climb in

  her vehicle when a sinful smooth voice reached her ear. “Kind

  of young for you, isn’t he?”

  Flames exploded in her eyes as she faced the man who

  had abandoned her twenty-one years ago. “Excuse me?” her

  tone was dagger-sharp.

  Out of the shadows flowed six feet and six inches of

  pure muscle. Maverick moved like water, knowing nothing

  could stop it. He prowled closer to her.

  Tempest held her ground despite her mind yelling at her

  to run. The years had been wonderful to him. He’d been fifteen

  the night he’d gotten her pregnant. His body had been

  youthfully strong, but nothing like it was now. The person

  before her was nothing but coiled muscle. If there were a live

  picture for sex appeal, this man was it, hands down.

  “I said he seems a bit young for you. Is he even twenty?”

  Maverick quipped.

  Determined to ignore his insults, Tempest curled her lip

  at him. “What do you want?”

  “Tell me how you know my name,” he demanded.

  “I know much more than that,” she taunted. “I know all

  about your life growing up in South Dakota.” Tempest let her

  rage get the better of her.

  “What is this, some attempt by you and my parents to

  get me married?”

  She erupted in harsh laughter. “I want nothing to do

  with your parents. And they sure as hell wouldn’t put me with

  you. They have plans for you.” Her voice dripped with thick

  sarcasm.

  “Who are you?” his voice dropped to a warning. That is

  definitely a phrase I hear from my parents.

  “My name is Tempest Burnell.”

  “I don’t know you,” he swore after searching his mind

  for some sort of recognition.

  “Let’s keep it that way,” she forced out sourly and tried

  to get into her vehicle.

  Maverick reached out and latched onto her arm. “I want

  to know,” he ground out.

  Years of rage at the man before her boiled over. “What?”

  she screeched. “What do you want to know? How abandoned I

  felt when you didn’t get in touch with me? When you treated

  me like I didn’t even exist?”

  “What are you talking about?” Maverick dropped her

  arm as he noticed the pain in her dusky brown eyes behind the

  fury.

  Reining in her emotions, she furiously shook her head.

  “I don’t need to do this. I’m leaving.”

  Somehow, Maverick knew if she were mad at him she

  would stay, and perhaps he would be able to figure out what

  was going on. “Ah, yes. Have to run home and get ready for

  your boyfriend. Can’t you find anyone older?”

  Crack! Her palm exploded across his smooth face. “Don’t

  you dare!”

  He caught her wrist in his hand and glared at her.

  “Damn it, that hurt!”

  “Good.” A twisted smile crossed her face. “You have no

  right to judge me.”

  Tugging her closer to his hard body, he put his face close

  to hers. He tried not to think about how much he wanted to

  kiss her full lips or how soft her skin was beneath his hand.

  “But you can judge me?”

  “You’re damn right,” she snapped self-righteously.

  “By what right?” he queried.

  “Because I am not the one who abandoned the other.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he bellowed.

  Wrenching away from his grip, Tempest told him. “I’m

  talking about the fact that I was shunned by both our families.

  The fact that I had to move away and begin a new life, while

  you were allowed to grow up where you knew people. While

  I...while I had to face the reality that you didn’t care for me,

  and weren’t coming to find me.”

  Maverick frowned as a deep dread settled in the pit of

  his stomach. Licking his firm lips, he looked at her and said,

  “Tell me how I know you.”

  “My name used to be Sarah, Sarah Whitehall, and when

  I left that little town of Little Creek, South Dakota at the age of

  thirteen, I had no one. My family disowned me, and you and

  yours didn’t want me. You know me, because five weeks

  before I left, you got me pregnant. You got me pregnant and

  then left me to raise our child on my own. That young man you

  accused me of sleeping with is the result of that pregnancy. My

  son.”

  Her voice no longer had any emotion in it at all. It was

  empty, dead; and for that reason, Maverick knew she was

  telling him the truth. Tempest felt drained and empty as she

  climbed silently into her vehicle and drove away.

  Pregnant? Maverick felt his legs wobble as his chest

  tightened. It can’t be true. He remembered Sarah. She’d been so

  full of life, even though her family constantly put her down,

  espec
ially her three brothers and one older sister.

  At fifteen, he remembered walking out beyond the city

  lights and finding her where she normally sat, along an

  outcropping of rocks. He’d met her there and dried her tears

  before kissing her tenderly.

  That night he’d bumbled around like any teen who

  wasn’t experienced in love. But he’d taken her virginity; and

  then to his immense embarrassment, after doing that, he’d shot

  his load deep within her, leaving her without finding any type

  of pleasure.

  Shamed, Maverick had run off, leaving her alone in the

  night. He’d seen her a few times around town after that, but

  he’d made sure he never spoke to her, his embarrassment was

  too great. One day, he’d realized she was no longer in school

  and neither his nor her family spoke about her.

  But with the typical care of a teen, he’d moved on with

  his life and in time forgot about her.

  Moving slow with shock, Maverick was unprepared for

  the fist that shot out and connected with his jaw. Stumbling

  back from the force, he looked to see the young man that

  worked behind the bar coming in for another hit.

  “Bastard!” the man shouted. “I hate you!”

  Wanting to contain the irate man, yet not get hurt

  himself, Maverick tried talking to him. “Calm down.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” He was swinging with each

  word he snapped out.

  Finally, some off-duty cops who were inside the bar

  pulled them apart. The one who had the young man

  reprimanded him, “Shame on you, Dakota. What is your mom

  gonna think when she has to bail you out of jail?”

  “I’m not pressing charges,” Maverick announced. “We’ll

  just forget it.” He rubbed the spot on his chin that Dakota had

  hit repeatedly.

  “Are you sure?” the officer holding him asked.

  “Positive. No harm done.” Maverick waited until the

  officers agreed and then headed off toward his bike.

  The drive back to his hotel room was done in a way that

  those who worked with him would have been scared, for the

  expression on his face was deadly. In the room, he took some

  cash and handed it to the manager at the front desk and packed

  his sea bag. In less than an hour, Maverick was on I-25N

  heading for his hometown.

  _

  Dakota burst through the door to his mother’s house. He

  was furious and he wanted some answers. “Mom!” he hollered

  the second his hand slammed the door behind him.

  “Don’t yell inside, Dak,” Tempest reprimanded as she

  looked at him from her spot in the kitchen.

  “Who is that man?” he demanded, not lowering his

  voice. “That one you were talking to outside.” At her wideeyed

  expression he added, “Yes, I overheard it all.”

  Defeated, Tempest sank to a chair at the round kitchen

  table. With one flick of her wrist she drank her two fingers of

  Irish whiskey in one gulp. Closing her eyes for a moment, she

  waved her son to the table.

  Unsure of how he should feel, Dakota did as she’d

  silently bid him to do, grabbing along his way two glasses and

  the pitcher of lemonade. He poured them both a glass and

  removed the Old Fashioned glass from in front of her. “Drink

  this,” he commanded.

  Her jaw clenching, Tempest did as she was told. She

  took a sip of the lemonade and met her son’s dark gaze. A gaze

  that was so like his father’s. “That man is your father.”

  “I thought you said he didn’t want us,” Dakota fumed.

  His strong fists clenching and unclenching.

  “I don’t know what he is doing here. I don’t want to

  know.” Tempest looked longingly at her whiskey that was on

  the countertop but drank her lemonade instead. How that man

  made her long for a drink.

  “I hate him. I hate him for what he did to you,” Dakota

  swore as his hand smacked the dark wood of the table.

  “Sweetie, I wish there was something I could say to

  make it better. I wish I had told you all of this sooner, but I

  didn’t and I’m sorry.”

  “So, Bertha wasn’t your mom?”

  Tempest shook her head as she ran a finger around the

  rim of her glass. “No, she was my aunt. But after I got

  pregnant, my parents disowned me and she was the only one

  who was willing to accept me. The day I went to tell your

  father about you, his parents…well, let’s just say they treated

  me about the same as my own did. Up until the day you were

  born, I’d held out hope that he would send me a letter or just

  show up at the door.”

  “But he never did,” Dakota finished.

  “No, he didn’t. I haven’t seen him since about two

  weeks after we slept together.” She raised her eyes to meet her

  son’s, expecting to see disgust, anger, or even hatred. Instead,

  all she saw was compassion and sorrow.

  “I’m sorry.” Standing up, Dakota moved around the

  table to put his arms around his mother. “I’m sorry that I was

  the cause of so much pain.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Sweetie, don’t ever apologize. You

  are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I wouldn’t

  change a single day of my life since you came into it.” Turning

  her head so she could look into her son’s obsidian gaze she sent

  him a smile. “None of this is your fault and I don’t ever want

  you think it was.”

  Tempest leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

  “Now, come tell me how things were at the bar tonight.”

  With one last hug, Dakota took a seat across from her.

  “This discussion isn’t over, Mom.”

  She arched a brow at him and drank the rest of her

  lemonade. “Who is the parent here?” she quipped.

  Dakota just arched a black brow and stared at her. They

  held each other’s gazes until finally he broke away. “I have

  never been able to stare you down,” he complained as a grin

  crossed his face.

  “And you never will; that is the power of being the

  mother—I win.” She laughed as a total look of disgust filled his

  face.

  Grumbling about the unfairness of it all, Dakota got up

  and poured them both more lemonade and set out a plate of

  cookies to go with their drinks. “What if he is here about me?”

  Tempest reached back and undid the ponytail holding

  up her thick hair. “Dakota, you are twenty-one, you don’t have

  to do anything you don’t want to. I will not try to sway you in

  any decisions.”

  “I hit him,” Dakota blurted out.

  “What?” she screeched. “Why?”

  “Because you hit him and he’d abandoned us. When I

  heard you tell him, I was furious. So after you left I punched

  him. I hit him a few times actually. Cole and Trey were there to

  break it up.”

  “Ah, hell! Are you going to be charged?”

  Dakota shook his head, his shoulder-length dark hair

  flowing easily around his neck. “Nope, he said he wasn’t

  pressing charges.”


  “Well, you are very lucky. Look, Dakota, I have no idea

  why he is here or what he wants. So please just try to be polite

  if he comes back into the bar.”

  “Anything for you, Mom.” He ate another cookie and

  smiled. “I have a date this weekend, so I won’t be in the bar.”

  “Thanks for letting me know.” She took a drink, fighting

  the urge to pry. Dakota wasn’t ever on the schedule at work

  since she wanted his schooling to be first and foremost.

  “Don’t you want to know who she is?”

  “I figured you would tell me if you wanted me to

  know.”

  “You are the best mother in the world.” He stood and

  put his glass in the sink. At the doorway he turned back

  around and grinned. “It’s Shelia.”

  As her child slipped down the hall, Tempest shook her

  head. She knew Shelia and liked the girl, a very intelligent

  black woman who was also majoring in African-American

  Studies. She’d been extremely polite the few times Tempest had

  met her.

  Tempest sat in the kitchen for a while longer. When the

  urge to scream and cry had left her, she got up and headed to

  her room.

  As she stood in front of her mirror, her dark eyes were

  confused as she asked, “What are you up too, James?”

  Shaking her head, she did her nightly meditation and

  climbed into bed. Sliding between the cool cotton sheets she

  allowed the gentle scent of her fabric softener to surround her,

  helping her to relax even more.

  There was no sign of James “Maverick” Chayton

  Lonetree in her bar for the rest of the week. More disgust filled

  her as she imagined he’d discovered he had a child and ran

  again.

  Tempest struggled to not let it affect her, but having

  seen him after all this time did funny things to her. Her body

  seemed to be at odds with her heart. She might be furious with

  his behavior in the past, but she wasn’t dead; and she’d reacted

  to his masculine good looks.

  Pouring all her energy into work, Tempest was

  determined not to let his memory swarm her every thought.

  She worked until she dropped and on her time off, she made

  sure to stay busy.

  Her house had to be one of the only places in the desert

  that didn’t have any dirt. She scrubbed and cleaned until she

  was exhausted. But, still, every time she closed her eyes or had

  a free second, Maverick’s handsome face had stared at her with

  that bewildered expression as if the impossible had happened.