The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  “Doesn’t sound like playing around. Sounds serious.”

  “I’m heading upstairs to change,” Dizzy said. He always disappeared whenever I said something serious, especially lately. He was doing some processing of his own where our mother was concerned. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure, man,” Bryan said, but he was looking straight at me and didn’t catch the warning glance my brother shot me.

  Dizzy knew I had feelings for Bryan. He just didn’t know how deep. I kept that secret close, knowing he feared that if I unleashed my feelings, it might cause irreparable trouble in the group. I worried about that too.

  “Did you and Diz have a good workout?” I asked, scooting a safer distance away from Bryan on the bench.

  “Yeah. We wanna look good for those test shots the labels want to take of us without our shirts.”

  The guys were leaving in a couple of days. LA first for RCA, then Zenith in San Fran.

  I couldn’t go with them. I had tests to take, midterms that I still hadn’t studied for. My motivation across the board sucked. I wondered if, in the end, any of my hard work with school would matter.

  My SAT results were due to arrive at any moment. I checked the mailbox religiously. As it was, I’d barely make the deadline for the University of Washington scholarship application. But would that even matter if my test scores weren’t good enough to apply?

  “Hey. Where’d you go just now?” Bryan asked, eliminating the space between us, his muscular thigh in cutoff sweats bumping my slender one encased in denim.

  “Worrying about school. The SAT results. The scholarship.” Since our graveside visit, the only secret I kept from him was that I loved him.

  “Don’t worry,” he said firmly.

  “Easy to say, but difficult not to,” I whispered while staring and losing myself in Bryan’s gorgeous gray-green eyes.

  “Do what you can do.” He took my hand and squeezed it. “Then let the uncontrollable stuff go. Worry’s not going to change anything.”

  I wondered if that could apply to my feelings for him. I wanted to tell him how I felt before prom.

  War had made arrangements. I knew he expected me to go all the way with him. I was ready. Mostly. My only reservation being the guy beside me.

  Amid a flurry of his footfalls, my brother reappeared. Exercise gear gone, his hair wet and slicked back, he was in jeans and a Tempest hurricane logo T-shirt. We’d only just started to seriously sell them at our shows.

  “Change of plans,” Dizzy said. “Got a call. King’s having trouble with one of the fasteners on his kit. He’s waiting for me at the Troubadour. I’m headed there to see if this will do the trick.” He held up an adjustable wrench.

  “Aw, man.” Bryan sighed. “I was really wanting to grab a burger before the show.”

  My stomach grumbled. “That sounds good. I’m hungry.”

  “Take Lace with you to get something. I’ll eat at the club. You guys better not be late, though. You know how War is about sound check lately.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Bryan muttered. All our performances needed to be flawless now that fans were starting to record us and put their videos up on YouTube.

  With a last glance at me, Dizzy took off, leaving Bryan and me alone.

  Suddenly, I noticed how close he was. I felt his heat and mainlined his crisp, piney scent. Even after a workout, he smelled good . . . and all that goodness bore down on me like an avalanche the instant I heard the door to the house close behind Dizzy.

  “Well, we’d better get going,” Bryan said, sliding away from me and standing.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” I slid out the other way, when what I really wanted to do was throw myself at him and confess everything.

  Maybe it was time. Maybe it wouldn’t change anything for Bryan to know how I felt, or maybe it would change everything.

  Didn’t I owe it to myself to know? Wouldn’t that be taking his advice and doing what I could?

  “Can we go for a walk on the beach before sound check?” I asked, my heart racing. “Maybe revisit that unfinished business between us?”

  “Definitely.” His eyes hit mine with a force that rocked me.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  War

  “What the fuck?” I exclaimed, and Bryan and Lace broke apart from their embrace on the beach.

  Lace was wide-eyed. She touched her lips as if being kissed by Bryan had made the heavens part and the angels sing, or some stupid shit.

  Bryan stepped in front of her. “Man, don’t—”

  “Don’t you fucking try to placate me, Bry.”

  “But you don’t understand.”

  “I understand just fine. Get out of my face. I wanna talk to her right now. I’ll talk to you later.” My gaze narrowed. “You feeling me?”

  “Yeah.” He took the steps up to the street level from the beach two at a time, joining Dizzy and me at the top. But once he was up, I moved down to where she was, my heart sinking lower as I descended.

  “C’mon, Bry,” her brother said. “Let’s go inside.”

  But I tuned him out, tuned out the waves, the sunset, the whole sappy beach setup—all of it except her.

  “Did you sleep with him?” I asked her, getting right to it. If Bryan had gotten where I hadn’t, it was over. The band, everything, because I’d kill him.

  “No, of course not.” She put her hands on her hips.

  “The attitude isn’t justified, babe. We have a rule. No touching the opposite sex. You broke it, not me.”

  “I know.” Her eyes were glassy, but she didn’t back down from me or what she’d done. She owned it. And she owned me too, obviously, since I could admire, love, and be furious with her right now, all at the same time.

  I grabbed her and pulled her to me. I had to. Holding her settled me. “This has been going on a while, this dance with you and Bryan. I know he’s into you. What I wanna know is, has this happened before?”

  “No,” she said, no hint of a lie.

  “Okay.” That was something, though I ground my teeth so hard, I practically pulverized my molars. “So, no more unsupervised time with him anymore.”

  “You’re not breaking up with me?” she asked, her expression puzzled.

  “Do you want me to?” I asked.

  “No, but—”

  “Tell me this,” I said quickly. There was no way in hell I was giving her an out. “What happened before that kiss? Did he profess his undying love for you?”

  “What? No.” She shook her head, looking at me as if that were completely impossible. “He told me we had to stop hanging out together, but I didn’t want that. I pushed it, and we kissed. That’s all.” Looking hurt and dejected more than anything, she closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest.

  Had Bryan actually turned her down? I could hardly believe it.

  “He’s a player, Lace.” I zeroed in on that, knowing it would hurt her.

  I was a bastard, but I was her bastard. I was keeping her. I’d crush my best friend, crush whoever, do whatever I needed to do to keep her.

  “He played you like he plays all of them. Bored with his usual. Curious about you, probably. If you think things are different, march up there and ask him for clarification.”

  Or better yet, an idea took root and grew like an ugly weed in the unholy soil inside my mind. I’d told her numerous times that Bryan wasn’t the innocent boy she once knew. Tonight, I’d show her.

  “I don’t need to ask,” she mumbled, her head still down.

  “Okay then.” I wedged my ringed thumb under her chin and lifted her head. “We mark this down as experimentation. One never to be repeated with him or any other guy. You feel me?”

  I felt like a pussy for allowing her a pass. But way back at the beginning of us, she’d given me one. Soon, I’d make sure her story jibed with his before I beat the ever-loving shit out of him.

  “Yes, I feel you.”

  I removed my thumb, took her hand, and led her up to the str
eet level. Walking together, yet working our way around other pedestrians on the sidewalk, we reached the club without incident or any further talking. I assumed she was reeling inside like I was. The glances I’d shot her way seemed to confirm my assumption.

  Inside the club, there was no sign of Bryan or the others, but her brother was at the bar, an untouched tumbler of whiskey beside his clenched hand. Somehow the bartenders on duty always slid him his preferred drink when he arrived, even though he was underage.

  “Hey,” Dizzy said too casually, taking us in. “Looks like you two sorted it out.” His mouth formed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  I got it. Dizzy was worried for his sister, and for the band. He had everything riding on the future of Tempest, just like the rest of us.

  “Bry in the dressing room?” I asked.

  “Yeah, said to tell you he’s waiting for you. King and Sager took off to grab a bite. I told ’em sound check was off. Am I right?”

  “Fuck yeah.” Releasing Lace’s hand, I moved in front of her. “Stay with your brother. I’m gonna have a word with Bry, then I’ll come back and have a few more with you.”

  “War,” she called, before I’d taken more than a few steps away from her.

  “Yeah?” I turned back to look at her.

  “Don’t, um, hurt him, okay?” She twisted her hands.

  “Babe, he’s my best friend. You’re my woman. You fucked up, and he fucked up. Don’t make it any worse.”

  Nodding, she dropped her gaze.

  My anger returning full force, I stomped past empty leather booths and skirted around cocktail tables by the stage with the chairs turned upside down on top of them. I hit the back hallway, feeling a little upside down myself as I pushed open the dressing room door, and my best friend turned to face me.

  “She okay?” he asked. Not backing down from my wrath, Bryan met me in the middle of the small room.

  “She’s with Dizzy. Talk. I want to hear what happened from your mouth before I bust you wide open for touching her.”

  “I kissed her.”

  “You more than kissed her. You tasted her. I saw you, Bry. That was no chaste lip touch. Don’t bullshit me.”

  “Yeah, okay. Fucking hell.” His gaze on me, he raked a hand through his hair. “I have feelings for her, man. You know I do. But she’s with you, and so I have no play. I tried to explain that to her, but she was upset. I don’t like seeing her upset.”

  Neither the fuck did I. But I didn’t know fuck-all about comforting her, because when the fuck had anyone ever comforted me?

  “A kiss, a taste. It went too far. But only to that point.” He lifted his chin and beckoned me. “Bring it. I deserve it. I fucked up.”

  I was a mean motherfucker and he deserved it, so I gave it. Choices had consequences. Cause and effect, a Southside specialty.

  Bryan felt me when I finished. But I wasn’t nearly through.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Lace

  “What the hell was that, Lace?” Dizzy asked, shaking his head at me.

  “I love him,” I said simply. To me, that explained it all. Besides Bryan, my brother was the only other person I could share that truth with before I had to bury it.

  Bryan had kissed me, and yes, it had been as amazing as I’d imagined. But he hadn’t returned the words, and he’d walked away afterward. It obviously hadn’t been a transcendent experience for him.

  “But he doesn’t love me,” I said quickly to clarify. “He’s honorable. He’s loyal to War, even though I practically threw myself at him.” I rubbed the center of my chest where the hurt continued to burn.

  “Okay, if you say so.” Dizzy gave me a quizzical look. “Do you want a drink?”

  I started to say no. Growing up with a mother like ours, I’d never seen the allure in drinking. But I nodded, taking a big sip from the tumbler he slid my way. It tasted nasty, but I needed the liquid courage. I’d put Bryan in that situation, thinking there was something between us worth risking the current storm raining shit on all of us.

  I took several sips as Dizzy reached over the bar, grabbed an empty tumbler, and filled it with the same amber liquid. The hurt-burn inside my chest had just started to give way to the medicinal flames of the alcohol when Dizzy spoke again.

  “You sticking with War?”

  I nodded.

  “You love him too?” he asked softly.

  “Yeah, Diz. I just . . . it’s different. They’re different.”

  For War, affection and anger were linked. I didn’t know if it were even possible for him to extract one without losing the other.

  For Bryan, there was anger too, but also tenderness. If the right woman came along—obviously, not me—he would do everything in his power, not just to have her but to shower her with his affection and keep her safe.

  Dizzy put his hand over mine. “Then you trust War to do right by you?”

  “He has for the past year.” I slid my hand away and took another sip of courage. “It’s me that screwed up tonight, not him.”

  “Not asking whether or not you trust him not to step out on you.” Dizzy frowned, his eyebrow piercing catching and reflecting the light from the pendant hanging over the bar. “Do you trust him when it comes to the band? We both know how he is, and I remember him cutting you out of it without much cause once before. Now with this, that doesn’t seem like a good precedent.”

  “You think he might try to manipulate my affection? Dangle my place in the band in exchange for doing what he wants me to do. Is that it?”

  Dizzy nodded somberly, and War reappeared as if conjured.

  “C’mon.” He stomped right to me. His expression and his eyes dark, he grabbed my arm. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” Dizzy said. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m taking my woman out. You got a problem with me, Lowell?”

  My brother’s words and the warning in them rang in my ears. It wasn’t only my position in Tempest that could be lost because of my choices.

  “It’s okay, Diz,” I said. “I know what I’m doing.” But suddenly, I wasn’t so sure. The man who held me seemed more an agent of wrath than a solicitous boyfriend.

  “I hope so, Lace.” The crease between my brother’s brows deepened.

  “No show tonight,” War said, his dark tone matching his expression. “Bry’s in no condition to play, and I have some things I need to get straight with Lace.”

  I dug deep for my attitude. Finding it, I brandished it once we were through the club and outside. “What things might those be?”

  “It’s time to make you mine. But before I do, I think you need to see the world around you a lot more clearly.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my eyesight,” I said, hurrying to keep up with his long strides.

  “You have a limited perspective. My fault, not yours. I used to think it was cute.” War gave me a disapproving look. “Your innocent schoolgirl facade. But you’re not a girl anymore, and you’re not innocent, just uneducated.”

  I frowned. “Just because I haven’t done all the things you have doesn’t mean I’m uneducated in the ways of the world. It just means I’m not jaded by them like you are.”

  “We’ll revisit this discussion later,” War said cryptically.

  • • •

  Later, revisiting wasn’t necessary, and it came way too soon.

  Inside Kyle’s apartment, I wasn’t so far from our school, which I only thought was rough; or from my uncle’s place, which I only thought was inhospitable; or from my boyfriend, who I only thought was dangerous.

  Here, War was rough without any soft edges, inhospitable to the point of nearly being cruel, and so dangerous, no one made eye contact with him unless he made it first.

  “She’s a pretty one.” The second dealer War introduced me to gave me the same leering once-over the other one had. “Martin likes blondes.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about Martin Skellin’s fetishes,” War said. “She�
�s my girlfriend. He can like her all he wants. He just can’t touch.”

  Liking that he seemed to be defending me after I screwed up, I scooted closer to his side.

  “War, old buddy.” Sniffing and rubbing his nose, Kyle joined us.

  I’d seen him when we entered his apartment. It was impossible to ignore a bunch of guys, him being one of them, doing lines of coke off a naked brunette who was lying on the coffee table. She was still there, letting guys flick their cigarettes on her like she was an ashtray.

  Why would any woman sink that low?

  “I’d be more careful about spouting absolutes regarding Martin in front of Gary if I were you, War,” Kyle said, tipping his head toward the leering dealer.

  “I’m not a blabber, you douchebag.” Sneering now rather than leering, Gary suddenly produced a blade.

  “You’re such a hothead.” Kyle didn’t even blink at the knife. His pupils probably couldn’t get any smaller if he did. “Put that sticker away, Gary. This is a party. Find a girl and party. No disrespect. Just good times, tonight. ’Kay?”

  “Okay.” Gary closed the blade and pocketed it.

  “Good man.” Kyle patted him on the back as he turned away. “Ready to go upstairs?” he asked War after only a brief scan to acknowledge me.

  “Fuck yeah,” War said.

  My heart sank. I didn’t think upstairs would be better than downstairs. Unfortunately, I was right.

  “It smells bad up here,” I whispered to War, gripping his hand tighter. I’d had a death grip on him since we’d traversed the maze of blitzed-out heroin junkies on the stairs.

  “Didn’t notice. More accepting of my surroundings, I guess,” he said roughly, pulling me with him into a narrow bathroom with two vanities.

  “What’s your poison going to be tonight?” Kyle asked, his back to us while he opened a cabinet door. Withdrawing a large ziplock bag, he turned and set it on the rusted countertop between the sinks with a flourish like it was a gift. It was colorful like a gift. The large bag contained a bunch of smaller ones filled with pills grouped together by color.