The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  “I have a ton of regrets, motherfucker.” My eyes sliced into his. “Wasting my time with you is at the top of a long list.”

  “Fine. I knew this was the way you would play it.” He shoved his fisted hands into the front pockets of his slacks. “I told Lace it was pointless.” He turned and took a step away and then stopped. He didn’t move, and I didn’t speak. I didn’t need him. I wasn’t calling him back. But for the first time in forever, I had no idea what was going through the mind of a man I’d once considered a brother.

  His shoulders fell. “Take care of yourself then.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Shaina

  I passed Bryan Jackson on his way down from the graveside. Striking light colored eyes flickered with recognition within his handsome but troubled face as he passed me. I knew where he was heading. I’d seen her leaning against a car in the parking lot. Honey blonde hair, tall and willowy in dark corduroys and a pea coat, War’s ex was even more beautiful in real life than she was in the photographs I’d seen.

  My already roiling stomach did an inelegant backflip that made me even more nauseated, but I made myself trudge up the hill anyway. Although Alex had coerced me into doing it, I knew that I needed to be here. I wasn’t a quitter. I was going to see this thing through.

  I had to tip-toe my way up the incline, my impractical spike heeled sling backs sinking into the soft soil. When I reached the top, I found him, down on his knees in the loose dirt underneath a large oak tree. All that proud masculinity humbled beneath the weight of his grief.

  Shit.

  The pain evident in that pose pierced my already battle worn heart. A moment suspended in time. So very private, yet so hauntingly familiar. I remembered Cassie’s funeral and how alone I’d felt. That caustic yawning emptiness inside, that terrible void that even all this years later remained unfilled.

  Sensing me, he cocked his head slightly. “Go away, Bryan,” he said in a raw whisper.

  “It’s me,” I whispered back, taking a couple of steps closer.

  His head snapped around, but his expression was blank, betraying nothing, not even surprise. His dark gaze swept me head to toe before he returned to his previous stance, dismissing me without speaking a word.

  I swallowed yet another bitter spoonful of rejection while silently cursing Alex. “I shouldn’t have come. I’ll leave.” He was obviously deep under that suffocating blanket of sadness, the one that sticks like glue and feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. It’d taken me weeks after Cass’ funeral to work up the resolve to claw my way out from beneath it.

  “Don’t.” The word was so softly spoken. I almost didn’t hear it. But what held me transfixed was the arm he offered, palm upward reaching back behind him toward me.

  I stumbled forward, dropping to my knees on the cold ground beside him, threading my fingers between his. I brought our joined hands to the center of my chest and cradled them tightly.

  “I’m sorry, Warren,” I mumbled softly, keeping my gaze glued to the simple headstone, letting him keep his most private pain… private. “I’m so sorry.”

  Then I was quiet. I knew from experience there weren’t any special words to make everything better. The worst part for me had been the horrible isolation, the agonizing disconnection that no one who hasn’t been there themselves can even understand. But I’d walked the barren road that he was on right now.

  So I stayed.

  After a while, I felt his hand began to squeeze rhythmically in mine. Empathetic tears flowed freely down my cheeks. I didn’t know at first if he was crying too because I didn’t look, but when I heard his strangled sob I knew that he was. Then I saw the first one falling, soaking into the packed earth in front of him. Then another followed. And another.

  I held my corresponding sob inside, my throat so tight under the strain that it burned. My resistance to him melted away with each teardrop. I’d been drawn to him from the beginning, but moment by moment, touch by touch, glimpse by glimpse into the hidden heart of the sensitive man beside me, pulled me intractably deeper. I didn’t speak. I just kept holding onto his hand, wishing I could soak up his sorrow as readily as the soil had absorbed his tears.

  We stayed so long the wind dried my own, turning them into cold dry tracks on my face.

  Finally he spoke; his voice was a rusty hinge. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He released my hand and stood. I don’t know how he got to his feet so quickly. My legs had fallen asleep. When I tried to stand I stumbled forward. He caught me, his fingers curling around my upper arms.

  I clung to him, not wanting to let go, long after the risk of falling had passed. Eventually, I forced my eyes past the simple buttons on his black shirt up to the rigid planes of his grief ravaged face. Eyes softening at whatever he saw in mine, he covered my hand with his own and escorted me down the hill.

  I leaned heavily into him, trusting the better footing his boots provided until we reached the solid footing of the pavement in the parking lot. He turned me toward him with his strong hands, the sun glinting off the silver in his rings. The intensity in his oak colored eyes hypnotized me as he gently tucked a strand of hair that had escaped my French braid behind my ear. He then pulled the two loose ends of my Burberry scarf together, his eyes dropping to his work as he expertly tied them. I found my mind wondering what else those nimble fingers could do.

  When he finally looked up again, I was so stunned, so lost in my reverie that all I could manage to do was blink back at him.

  “Thank you,” he said. The deep vibration of his voice and the serious expression on his face told me that those two words had been difficult for him to say.

  “You’re welcome,” I replied softly, eyes searching his as I laid my hands on the hardness of his biceps. I was wishing now that I could have managed to break free from work sooner. “I remembered what this was like, how terrible it was, and I didn’t like the thought of you going through it by yourself.”

  “You …” War trailed off, his muscles getting even harder beneath my fingers. I didn’t have to follow the direction of his gaze to know why, but a glance confirmed that Lace and Bryan were standing next to a parked car across the lot, staring in our direction.

  I couldn’t help but notice that War’s eyes darkened at that brief interchange. I feared that his feelings for her were far from extinguished.

  “I better go,” I told him. How stupid of me to keep throwing myself at him when he clearly wasn’t romantically interested in me. I was setting myself up for a world of hurt holding onto that dream. “I just…I hoped...”

  “I don’t want you to leave.” He moved in closer, his eyes a lure that I found impossible to resist. I took in a quick breath as the front of my coat brushed against his chest. No outer layer again for him today, just that button down. His body heat cut through the chilling forty degree air. “Do something with me. Help me get my mind off this fucking miserable day.”

  A warning rang inside my head. I didn’t need a degree in psychology to understand that this change of heart probably had less to do with me than with Lace’s presence here. The really sad thing was that I didn’t care because deep down there was a part of me that wanted to believe maybe, just maybe if he would let me in, I could help him get over her.

  “Sure.” I stared at his lips trying to focus but finding it difficult to think about anything but kissing him again. “I’ve been wanting to go to the EMP since we started filming in Seattle. How about that?” I offered, and then wanted to kick myself when I watched his lips form a smirk.

  “The EMP, huh? Really? That sounds… interesting.” The way he emphasized the word ‘interesting’ made it pretty clear that he meant dorky. “What in particular do you want to see? The music exhibits or the science fiction parts?”

  “Science fiction,” I admitted solidifying my bid for geek of the year award. No doubt my quirky fixation on vocabulary already had me in the running. “Star Trek’s my favorite. I’ve seen them all from the first season with W
illiam Shatner and Leonard Nimoy all the way up to the latest movie.” He stared at me, his incredulousness (Woot! Collegiate bonus round word!) prompting me to further explain. “Hey those are great shows. They’re really well written and address many relevant social issues, too.”

  “Yeah?” He raised a dark brow.

  “Uh-huh. Loyalty. Sacrifice. Prejudice. Don’t hate.” I huffed when he continued to give me that disbelieving look. “The museum is supposed to have lots of cool stuff, from lots of other shows, too.” I ticked off on my fingers. “The robot from Lost in Space, the Daleks from Dr. Who, Yoda from Star Wars, props from Princess Bride, Harry Potter, The Dark Crystal, and…” I stopped with my list when he started chuckling. His eyes were liquid with amusement and sparkling like polished oak.

  Something big and weighty shifted inside of me, making me feel lighter. I so liked being able to make him laugh. Especially today of all days. This laugh I treasured even more than the last one.

  “I can’t believe you’re a Trekkie, darlin’.” Seemingly perplexed by my level of dorkdom, he shook his head at me.

  I put my hands to my hips and it was my turn to arch a brow. “So only what you consider to be mainstream is cool with you,” I teased back. “Like fast cars and rock music?”

  “Uh, fuck yeah.” He tapped my nose. “But I’m willing to wander out of bounds with you into the geek zone, but only because you’re cute as hell.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  War

  “Where’s your ride, Sweetness?

  Who was this beautiful puzzle beside me?

  Why had she come back after I’d shut her down so hard the night before?

  What was it that had stirred in my chest as she’d knelt there beside me by the grave?

  And what was it about this woman who seemed to lead with her heart, her head occasionally following, that made me see an open road ahead for the first time in my life instead of a dead end?

  Whatever those answers were, I was beginning to think that I needed to find them.

  Shaina pointed at a Suburban, the exhaust unfurling behind it like a vaporous ribbon, one of only two vehicles still left in the cemetery parking lot. I made myself ignore the other one. I didn’t know what they were waiting for. What they expected to happen, but whatever it was, they were going to be damned disappointed.

  The driver’s mirrored shades swung our way as we headed together toward the waiting SUV.

  “War.”

  Shit. I froze at the sound of my name from those lips, my fingers tightening on Shaina’s elbow.

  “Got no time for this, Lacey,” I ground out.

  “Really? Hasn’t this gone on long enough? He’s here because he cares about you.” Her tone and the irritated sparks flying off her amber eyes revealed her displeasure. She put her hands on her slim hips. “How long are you going to make him do penance?”

  I didn’t answer. I stared at her familiar face as if I’d never seen her before, and I hadn’t, not like this, without infatuation influencing the assessment.

  Beautiful as ever. Though her hair was cut brutally short, she was undeniably sexy. Her betrayal still dragged like a heavy weight in my gut. I didn’t know if I’d ever completely get over the hurt of what she had done. Not that long ago, she’d been my oxygen.

  “I’m Lace.” She held out her hand to the breath of fresh air beside me.

  “Shaina Bentley.”

  “I know.” Lace grinned, flicking a brief glance my way. “I wouldn’t have believed it unless I’d seen it with my own eyes. Your show’s on the teen channel my brother Dizzy is always glued to.”

  I scrubbed a hand over my face. This was surreal. Was the woman who’d wrecked my world making small talk with the one who seemed determined to remake it?

  Why did it always feel like I’d fallen into some alternative dimension of the unexpected whenever I was with Shaina?

  “We’re not doing this, Lacey.” I slid on my shades. “Fuckin’ whatever the fuck this is, it’s over.” I hiked my head in Bryan’s direction. “Run on back to Bullet now.”

  I turned away, my hand low on Shaina’s back steering her toward the Suburban’s open door.

  “Wait.” Lace dodged me, and before I could prevent it, slipped Shaina a card. “That’s got my cell on it.”

  Shaina eyed it uncertainly.

  “Keep it. Please. It’s Bryan’s sister Miriam’s birthday tomorrow. Mrs. Jackson is throwing a big party at the new house. Everyone will be there. We’d really like it if both of you could come.”

  “Not gonna happen, Lacey.” I successfully extracted Shaina from the situation, ushering her into the back seat, though I was unhappy to see that piece of paper remained in her hands. “Let it go, babe. This is done. The side show’s over.” I stepped on the running board, but Lace being Lace wasn’t finished yet.

  “I get that you’re mad, Warren. But at some point you have to let it go.”

  “Do I?” I scoffed. “Maybe that’s the way things work in your universe, but not in mine.”

  She sighed. “Fine. So don’t forgive me. But at least hear Bryan out and talk to the rest of the guys. If you weren’t so fucking stubborn you’d see…”

  “Enough!” I shouted. “I’ve had enough. You’ve lost the right to lecture me. Move the hell out of the way. Now!”

  She stepped back in response to my raised voice. I immediately slammed the door shut.

  I didn’t even use the side view mirror to look back as the driver pulled away. I was done with retrospective bullshit. Instead I turned to look at Shaina. She was staring out the window her plump bottom lip between her teeth, and she had crumpled the piece of paper Lace had given her fisted in her fingers. Brow creased, she seemed almost as unsettled by the run in with my ex as I’d been.

  I didn’t want to dwell on it. Didn’t want to consider what it meant that Lace, Bryan, and his mom had shown up today to offer their support when not even one of the douche bags from my current band had dropped by. Nor for that matter had Charles Morris, the head of Zenith Productions. Though he had called several times, not to offer sympathy, but to remind me of my obligations to my new label. I was beginning to believe that the only reason Morris had been so keen on stealing me away from Black Cat Records was so that he could bury the competition.

  By the time the driver took the ramp toward downtown, I’d managed to set all that aside. I put my hand on Shaina’s lap. “You ok?”

  She nodded, but the crease between her brows said otherwise.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.” She gave me a hint of a smile. “I was at work at five this morning. I haven’t had anything since the hamburgers last night.”

  “That’s not good, darlin’. You’re probably getting shaky. It’s almost noon.”

  “I know.” She leaned forward and put a hand on the back of the driver’s seat. “Bill, find us a drive thru before you drop us at the museum?”

  He turned his head slightly to the side. “Sure thing, Miss Bentley.”

  She scooted back in the seat and gave me a side glance, her expression tentative. “You wanna tell me what that was all about with Lace? It was pretty intense.”

  “That’s not unusual. Not for us. Our whole relationship was volatile like that.” I began unbuttoning my sleeves, Shaina watching me intently. As I rolled them up, she licked her lips, making it difficult for me to focus. The neat folds turned as uneven as my thoughts. “I fell for Lace back in high school. Turns out she didn’t fall quite so hard, at least not for me.”

  “Oh.” Her head tilted as if she couldn’t understand how something like that could happen.

  “Yeah.” I let out a laugh that had no humor. “Lot of stuff went on behind my back. Bottom line… I gave my trust to someone who didn’t deserve it and my heart to someone who didn’t really want it.” Seeing them both again, him with her the way I used to be, wasn’t something I wanted to deal with. If I hadn’t been staring straight ahead, I might’ve seen the way my wo
rds made Shaina’s eyes shine in sympathy.

  Bryan was dead wrong. I did have remorse. Woke up in the night remembering how bad things had looked when they’d carried Lace out on that stretcher. How easily things could have turned out so much worse. It had fuckin’ scared me straight that’s for sure. I hadn’t touched any of the stuff since then. Not once. Cold turkey. Detoxed on my own down in Mexico after the end of the tour.

  I wasn’t a complete douche. I realized that I should’ve gotten Lace help when she showed up on the tour bus that day, all strung out and worked over by her drug dealing ex. But at the time, all I had been thinking about was getting a second chance with her. Ok, maybe I was a complete douchebag.

  We went through the Jack in the Box. Shaina ordered tacos and an iced tea and I got a couple of burgers. By the time the driver rolled to a stop in front of the EMP the SUV was swamped with greasy fast food smell and we were wadding up napkins and shoving the remnants back into the paper sack. Shaina stripped off her high heels, replacing them with some sneakers from a bag between the seats.

  Watching her bending over like that had me thinking about her taking off a lot more. “With that formal skirt and those comfy shoes, you look like an office worker on break.” I managed a strangled sounding chuckle, shifting uncomfortably in my suddenly too tight jeans.

  Her eyes stayed on my mouth for a moment before she looked up. “The museum doesn’t close for four and a half hours,” her voice was a trace deeper than usual. “I like my heels, but I’m just not used to wearing them that long.” She peered at me through her burnished lashes. “You sure you’re ok with this? Not too dorky escorting me.”

  “It’ll be a hardship,” I lied. “But I’m always up for a challenge.”

  She laughed and swatted my arm. “Ok, then. C’mon.” She grabbed a set of shades. The driver let her out. I followed, grabbing her hand without thinking twice about it. Her skin was soft and it felt good against mine. She smiled at me. I was pretty sure her beautiful light green eyes were sparkling with excited anticipation behind her shades.