The Complete Tempest World Box Set
Page 61
“No.” Disappointment burned bitterly inside my chest.
His face fell. “But you said we would.”
“No. I’m sorry.” I reached out to stroke his soft hair. “There’s been a change of plans.”
Carter stared at me for several long moments, his features turning hard. “Why?” he asked. “I like him. He’s nice. He makes you smile.”
I squeezed his hand. “I know that, honey. I’m sorry, but the answer’s still no.”
He tugged his hand out from under mine. “You’re always saying no,” he muttered harshly, glaring at me. He jumped out of bed, and then slammed into the bathroom. I covered my mouth with my hands, feeling sick to my stomach. Carter and I were a team. We always had been. He’d never rejected my affection before. Sure he had times when he pushed the boundaries, like every kid does, but he’d never completely shut me out. On top of everything else, it was just too much. A heavy suffocating darkness fell on top of me. I suddenly felt trapped and panicked.
“Bridget?”
“Huh?” I looked up, tears blurring my vision.
“What’s going on?” Lace stood in the doorway glancing back and forth between me and the bathroom. “I heard a door slam. Is everything ok?”
A strangled gurgle escaped from my mouth. I knew it. We were being too much trouble. I was about to be kicked to the curb again. This time I had nowhere else to go. Fear started to pull me under. I found it difficult to breathe.
“Oh, sweetie.” Lace came straight to me, sat on the bed, and pulled my head to her shoulder. “It’s ok. Nothings’ as bad as all that. She started rubbing soothing circles on my back. “I assume this is about Justin. I heard you talking to him out in the hall.”
“I told him we can’t see each other anymore, and now Carter’s mad. He doesn’t understand,” I managed to get out.
“He’ll come around.” I wasn’t sure if she meant Justin or Carter. “I’m on your side, just so you know. We’re friends, Bridget. Teammates, remember? You’re not alone. I’m not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Justin
“Ok. Alright. Don’t bite my head off.” Dizzy raised dark brows. “Fuck man, next time you’re fucking off key, I won’t do you the courtesy of fucking telling you.” He put his pick between his teeth and tightened the machine heads on his guitar.
“Sorry I jumped your case,” I mumbled, running a hand through my hair and glancing at the studio clock. We’d been at it for hours, just Dizzy and me, trying to come up with some new material.
I sighed. It’d been four long days and four equally long sleepless nights since I’d kissed her and she’d pushed me away. The ache in my chest hadn’t lessened, and I wasn’t getting any better at dealing with it. The only good to come out of the last few days was the lyrics I’d written. Having your heart ripped out and stomped on brought out the inner poet, apparently. One of the darker pieces I’d written had resonated with everyone in the group. That was a good thing because Mary had been putting a lot of pressure on us to come up with something for the benefit performance in eight days.
Dizzy and I had been nose to the grindstone working on the melody for it, but without any luck.
Zilch. Nada. Zero. Nothing.
I sat my ass back on the stool, her face drifting to the forefront of my mind as I plucked around on my Hummingbird.
“Whoa. Hold up a minute,” Dizzy interrupted my favorite recurrent Bridget fantasy, the one where she practically jumps my bones when I lay my soul bare. I liked that one a lot, even though it was less and less likely that it would ever play out.
I had absently been fumbling through the same chord progression for the last ten minutes. I looked up at him, his brows were pinched together. He stared off into space for a moment and then blew my mind by laying down a series of similar but much better kick ass notes on his own guitar.
Head down, I picked up a pencil and quickly jotted down what he’d played. Fifteen minutes after that, we had the entire thing mostly fleshed out, at least enough that we could take it to the rest of the guys for their input.
“It’s pretty damn good,” I assured Dizzy.
He nodded. “It’s a little softer than the stuff we usually do, but I like it, too.”
As I gathered my stuff together, my stomach grumbled really loudly. I started to ask Dizzy if he wanted to grab something to eat with me when my cell phone rang. Lace’s picture flashed up on the display. “Hey,” I answered.
“Hey, JJ. Is Dizzy with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I talk to him? He’s not answering his cell.”
“Sure.” I turned to Dizzy and offered him my phone. “It’s Lace.”
“What’s up?” Dizzy’s brow furrowed. “Sure but you know how it is over here in Kitslano at this time of the day. It could take me over an hour to get to him after I get a cab. He’s ok, isn’t he?”
My stomach tightened at those ominous sounding words. “Who?” I mouthed.
“Bridget’s kid,” he answered.
Shit, no. “Give me the phone,” I insisted, taking it as he returned it to me. “Lace, it’s Justin again. Tell me what the hell’s going on.”
“Carter’s ok, but he got into another fight at school,” she explained. “He’s being suspended for the day.”
“Is Bridget alright?” I asked, wondering how she was doing considering this bit of alarming news.
“Yeah, but she can’t take off work to get him. This is the second time he’s gotten into trouble this week. I’d go and get him myself, but I’m just getting ready to sit for my fashion marketing exam.”
“I’ll get him.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Don’t give me grief, Lace. I’ve got my bike here. I’ll head straight there. I’ll have him home before she gets off her shift. Promise.”
“Ok.” A long pause. “But Justin?”
“Yeah?” I huffed into the phone, raising a hand with my keys in it to Dizzy as I headed for the door. “Make it quick, I’m heading to the garage now.”
“If you should see her, please…I don’t know. Just don’t upset her alright? She’s had a rough week.”
Shit fucking shit. Now the chest tightness was back, only worse. “Ok, Lace,” I zipped up my jacked and straddled the motorcycle. “I’m hanging up now.”
The familiar growl of the pipes lowered my heart rate to a speed slightly less tachycardic than before. Riding on my bike was a natural tranquilizer, but even so it didn’t have the power to completely calm me at the moment. I was too worried. Damning the consequences, I zipped illegally in and out of traffic, even going up on an empty sidewalk for a brief period of time in my quest to get to the school as quickly as possible.
Poor little kid. I felt bad for him. He’d been through so much lately.
I parked in front of the three story school building near Stanley Park and hopped up the front steps two at a time. The heels of my boots clapped loudly on the linoleum as I entered the building and pushed through the glass door into the front office.
Legs swinging, Carter was sitting alone in a row of empty chairs near the secretary. He glanced up at me.
“Hey, buddy.” I strove for a soothing tone.
An older woman in a pale peach suit approached me. “Mr. Jones?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Mrs. Steinly.” She held out her hand and gave me a warm smile. Maybe this wouldn’t go as badly as I’d imagined. “Miss Lowell called and said you’d be on your way over. Could you come into my office for a moment, please?”
I nodded. Unpleasant memories of being dragged into see the principal for acting out after my mom died dogged me as I followed her through the reception area and around the corner into her office.
“Have a seat,” she told me sweeping her arm toward the chairs in front of her desk. A worried expression brought a crease between her brows as she took her place on the other side of it. She clasped her hands together on the neatly or
ganized surface. “I just wanted to reiterate that Carter’s a good kid, but he’s having a difficult time adjusting here. As I discussed with Ms. Dubois several days ago, I think he could really benefit from a positive male role model in his life. She mentioned a,” she glanced down at an open file, “Bryan Jackson as a possible candidate. But if that doesn’t work, we have an excellent mentorship program I’d like to get him started in.”
She closed the file and scooted back in her chair. “Given that this second incident came so close on the heels of the other one, we might need to consider professional counseling as well. The school counselor has tried to get him to open up and so have I, but we haven’t had any luck. He seems to think that by keeping silent he’s protecting his mother somehow. But Mr. Jones, if there’s something going on here at my school that’s causing a problem for Carter I want to know. I will put an end to it I can assure you.”
“I’ll talk to his mother. I’m sure she’ll take all this into consideration. And I’ll try talking to him myself.”
“Good. Thank you.” She tucked a strand of grey hair back behind her ear. “Carter can come back to school tomorrow. I really didn’t want to send him home today since he didn’t start the fight. But we have rules to follow.”
“I understand completely.” I stood and shook her hand over the desk before making my way back to Carter. He was in the same place, hands twisted together in his lap. “C’mon, buddy,” I said gently. “Let’s go home.” I reached for his hoodie and helped him put it on.
He lifted his backpack from the floor and slung it over his little shoulder. “My home’s in Florida,” he grumbled as we left the office.
“I know if feels that way, buddy,” I told him softly as I steered him out the door and toward the parking lot, “but Florida didn’t have a bunch of other people like Lace, Bryan, and me who care about you.”
“You don’t care.” He scowled as we crossed the pavement together. “You left.”
I bent down and put my hands on his shoulders so he’d have to face me. “I wanna talk about that when we get to the hotel.”
He nodded but remained sullen until we reached my bike.
He grabbed my sleeve. “That’s yours?”
“It sure is.”
“Wicked!” A smile spread across his face.
“That it definitely is,” I agreed. “And maybe I can convince your mom to let you ride sometime. Today I think it’d be better if we just walk home.” Carter was tall enough that his feet could sit on the passenger rests just fine, and I could put the buddy belt around the two of us as an extra precaution. But with things the way they were right now with Bridget I didn’t want to press my luck. I could come back and get the Triumph later.
His lip jutted out in disappointment. “Talk to her soon, ok?”
He was silent as we struggled uphill the first few blocks, the afternoon sun shining in our eyes, but by the time we turned the corner and headed toward the Sutton, Carter had placed his hand in mine as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Warmth unfurled inside of me. Things were going to have to change with his mother. I wasn’t taking no for an answer. I started making plans as we walked into the lobby together.
“Let’s get something to eat,” I told him as I led him around the large circular oak table that always held a vase of fresh cut flowers and past the concierge desk. “I bet you’re starved. I know I always was after school.” He didn’t argue and since it was between lunch and dinner time there was no wait at the hotel restaurant. After we sat down, I ordered a couple of milks, a fruit platter, and chocolate chip cookies.
We ate in silence for a bit. Carter’s eyes were still guarded, and I was trying to formulate my thoughts. My mind was a chaotic mess. By the time, he’d reached for his second cookie, I’d decided what to say.
“Hey, buddy,” I began. “I’m kinda worried about you.”
“I’m ok,” he replied around a mouthful of cookie, but his gaze dropped and his chin went down to his chest.
I got a hand under it and lifted. “I’m not so sure about that,” I rushed on when I saw the guilt overshadow the previous evenness in his features. “You know, we all go through hard things. I had it rough too when I was about your age.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. My mom got sick and then things got real tough with my dad. I tried to handle it a lot like you are, keeping it all bottled up inside. But that didn’t work. It made me feel like a soda that’s been shaken. Too much pressure builds up and it needs somewhere to go before it explodes like a volcano or something.”
“Yeah. I feel like that sometimes.”
“I bet you do,” I pressed a bit. “And I bet your mom does, too.”
“She cries at night,” he confessed in a small voice. “Ever since Meemaw died.” That bit of revelation burned inside my chest along with all the other worries. “She tries to be quiet, but I hear her. It makes me sad. I’m afraid she’ll have to go away again, and I’ll be alone.”
That was way too much crap for a five year old to take on alone. I leaned over and gave him a big hug. “That’s not going to happen. Your mom’s not going anywhere and neither am I, Champ.”
“What’d you just call me?”
“Champ.” I eased back in my chair, so I could see his face. “Your mom’s a princess, and every princess needs her champion. Someone who looks out for her. Protects her. Like you do. It suits you perfectly.”
His blond brows knitted together as he appeared to be considering it. “I like it,” he concluded.
“Good. I told you it would come to me.” I tapped his nose and handed him a napkin. “But you’ve got chocolate on your chin.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bridget
I knocked on his door and waited, my stomach tied up in tangled knots. Distressed that Carter had gotten himself into trouble again, I couldn’t believe that Lace had allowed Justin to get involved.
Carter’s light ringing laughter mingled with a masculine chuckle drifted through the door. I felt my eyes widen in surprise. Carter had been sullen and withdrawn all week. I hadn’t heard him laugh since the Saturday we’d spent together with Justin. My anxiety started to unwind a bit.
Justin pulled open the door, a grinning Carter thrown over one shoulder in a fireman hold.
“Hey.” He gave me his usual one word greeting, his green eyes sparkling as he gave me a quick head to toe scan. They looked so cute together I didn’t have the heart to get into it with him about picking Carter up from school.
“Hi,” I said shifting uncertainly on my sneakered feet returning his gaze. I wasn’t sure what to expect or how to act considering the way we ended things the other day. I found myself pleasantly surprised when he continued to smile at me.
With more difficulty than I’d cared to admit, I managed to tear my eyes away from his handsome face and peered up at Carter. He smiled back at me as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Hey Mom.”
“Why don’t you come in for a minute?” Justin pulled the door open wider and slid Carter off his shoulder, placing his feet on the floor. “Champ, go on and finish that episode of Batman Beyond we were watching. I’ll catch up on it later. I need to talk to your mom.”
“Ok.” I watched, mouth slightly parted in wonder, as Carter immediately rushed to do Justin’s bidding. He zipped back into the living room at superhero speed.
I followed Justin inside, my heart pounding nervously as I noticed things I shouldn’t, like how fantastic his low pocketed jeans looked on his ass and how well his light green cotton shirt outlined the width of his shoulders. But inexplicably what I found even more appealing was the trail of chocolate fingerprints scattered all over his sleeves. My unsettled stomach calmed as my lips lifted into an irrepressible smile. Obviously Carter had left his mark on Justin, and it certainly seemed as though Justin was beginning his own on my son.
How was I to going to keep Justin at arm’s length when he did things like this that made h
im seem so thoughtful, so sweet, and so unpretentious?
Justin continued on through the living room and entered the bedroom.
“No Justin.” I refused to go further and stopped in the doorway. “Let’s go back and talk in the foyer.”
When he turned toward me, his eyes were hard and his expression unrelenting. “Uh-uh. We did things your way once. That didn’t work out so well.” His eyes searched mine. “For either of us, I think if you’re being honest. So now we’re gonna do things my way, and that means we’re gonna talk here in my room with the door shut because what I’ve got to say is private. And I don’t want you to go running away again. So I suggest you come in, unless you’d rather I throw you over my shoulder like I just did with Carter.”
Eyes rounding I stepped inside the room, the cotton of his sleeve brushing against my skin as he passed by me to close the door. The highly appealing woodsy and leathery scent of his cologne chipped away at my carefully laid defenses.
He turned back around and without warning reached out and trailed a fingertip down my arm, the silver beads on his bracelet cold against my bare skin.
Self-preservation finally kicking in, I took a step back.
His gaze hardened again. “What’s it gonna take for me to convince you that I’m not a threat?”
I shook my head. I didn’t know, and I really wasn’t sure if it was possible. Mostly because deep down I didn’t think it was him I was afraid of. It was me. The way I responded to him and how much he made me feel without even seeming to try.
He let out an exasperated breath. “Let’s start with Carter and then move from there.” He ran a hand through his hair. “We had a good chat this afternoon. I found out Carter’s having a little bullying trouble at school. But we have a plan, and we’re going to take care of that together. The bigger issue, the way I see it, is you. Carter worries about you, much more than a boy his age should worry about his mom. He tells me you’ve been crying at night.”
I covered my face with my hands, humiliation making my cheeks flame beneath my fingers.