The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

“Miriam. Let me get that for you.” I took the handle of her roller bag, hitched the strap of my duffle higher on my shoulder and placed my hand on her lower back. Steering her into the lobby, I searched for a quiet spot to have a word with her. There wasn’t one. The airport had been practically deserted. The hospital was another matter entirely. It was the busiest hospital in Southside, teeming with people, but I managed to find a bench with no one on it at the moment. I made a beeline for it.

  “We need to stop and talk for a minute.”

  “Hermano.”

  Fuck.

  I swiveled toward the sound of Sager’s voice. His reading glasses atop his head, wearing jeans and an unremarkable tee, I couldn’t remember ever being happier to see him.

  “¡Qué rollo con el hoyo!” What’s going on? I released Miriam and moved to greet him, slapping his back just as hard as he clapped mine. It seemed like such a long ass time ago that we had parted ways with harsh words between us. “How is he? Any word?”

  “The doctor wanted to talk to everybody before they take him back.” His oak hued gaze slid to Miriam. “Hey, Juliet. Haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a while.” She licked her lips. “I’m sorry about that and for what’s going on with your father. I’m just here to support Juaquin. I don’t mean to intrude.” She glanced over at me, her eyes full of apology. “I’ll stay down here while you two go up.” She reached for the handle of her bag.

  “Is Blue up there with him?” I reluctantly took my eyes from her to ask my brother.

  “Yeah, man. She’s in the room with the others. Why?”

  “Then Miriam comes with.” Sager’s brow lifted at my pronouncement. The message was unmistakable. I swung my gaze to Miriam, holding out my hand. She took it without hesitation as I knew she would, but I planted a quick kiss on her lips as a thank you anyway.

  “Juaquin,” she breathed. “Are you sure? I’ll do whatever you want. But I don’t want to be a distraction with everyone already so stressed.”

  “Incredible.” Sager whistled under his breath. “You better hold onto that one tight, brother. Took you long enough to catch her, but seems like you finally did.” He turned to Miriam. “I’ve known you a long time. Known you were right for him nearly that long.”

  “We’re not…I mean we haven’t…”

  “They’ll all be glad to see you.” Sager smiled, thinking her floundering meant only that she was flustered by his words, but I worried it was something more. Had I not been clear about us? Or was she having second thoughts?

  A cell rang. Sager’s. The ringtone was familiar. Melinda’s voice singing ‘Beauty’, the song Sager had written for her. “Don’t,” he cautioned me as I rolled my eyes. “That was her doing. Not mine. You’ll find out soon enough.” He smiled at Miriam, commandeering the handle of her bag and her hand. I wanted to growl at him. Even though he was my brother, and I totally trusted him, I wanted her, every bit of her, to myself. He cast me a baiting, knowing glance over his shoulder as he headed for the elevator. Yeah, I got the message. What goes around comes around,’ he was saying. I had given him such a hard time about falling under Bluebelle’s spell. This was payback.

  • • •

  Miriam

  All eyes swung toward us when we entered the room. I recognized them all, though it had been some time since I had seen most of them. A family like my own, albeit larger and included a mother and a father. The addictive affection Juaquin lavished on me came from his mom, a diminutive Hispanic woman, her love for both her children burning brightly in her gaze. Grey haired Abuelita, wheelchair bound yet radiating grace and wisdom. Melinda, a pretty girl with long black hair and an unfocused gaze that somehow located Sager. She went straight to him though she couldn’t see him. And King’s father, Raúl, intimidatingly handsome like his son. Eyes that were the same gold shade as King’s passed over me dismissively.

  “Juaquin!” he barked, struggling to sit up in the hospital bed. “¿Por qué estás aquí?” Why are you here? His stern brow dipped in displeasure. “I told you everything is fine.”

  “Everything’s not fine,” Juaquin spat back “You’re in a hospital are you not? You’re probably having chest pain at this very moment. You think I don’t recognize the signs, but I do. Your skin’s like ash. You have those brackets around your mouth that you get whenever you push yourself too hard. You should have heeded the doctors warning. You should have…”

  “Enough!” Raúl snapped, though his voice wasn’t as loud as it had been a moment before. He clutched the front of his hospital gown.

  “No,” King disagreed. “Someone needs to stand up to you and tell you how it is. You’re too stubborn for your own good. Too prideful.” The heartbeats on the monitor bleeped faster as the tension between the two escalated. “If you had gone to the specialist like I told you to…

  “Cállate!” Shut up. “Vosotros dos.” Both of you. King’s mother, María, shook her head sadly, tears of frustration brimming that all could see.

  “Madre, perdóname.” Juaquin reached for her, taking her into his arms, stroking her hair and murmuring a soothing endearment in Spanish.

  “See? You’ve upset your mother.” His father’s eyes flashed with irritation. “You shouldn’t be here. You have obligations. Attend to them.”

  Juaquin’s mother made a noise that sounded like a protest, leaving her son’s embrace to lay a hand of caution on her husband’s arm.

  “What’s more important than my own father’s health?” Juaquin returned. “Why do you have to fight me at every turn?” His expression was raw, his gaze pleading. “Why can’t you just accept the help I offer?” The underlying question was much deeper. Why can’t you love me for who I am? I had asked myself the same thing way back when about my own father. I hated seeing Juaquin like this with his. My fingers balling into fists, I moved closer to him.

  “I already had everything I needed here before you arrived.”

  King’s body jerked as if he had taken a bullet like the one that had killed his brother. “Then I’ll rectify the situation for you. Remove from your presence the son who displeases you.” The arm movements that punctuated his statements were agitated. “The son who lived only to continually disappoint you.” Spinning around, King nearly knocked me over. He grabbed me by the shoulders. Everything happened too quickly for me to wipe the look of empathy from my expression that I knew he wouldn’t appreciate at that moment. Not a guy like Juaquin. Not when he was feeling so vulnerable.

  “I should’ve left you back in Vegas.” I drew in a breath, taking that angry comment straight to the center of my chest watching him with eyes that rapidly filled as he strode from the room.

  The silence left behind had an icy edge. But somehow, I managed to make my frozen body move. I had my hand on the door when her rubber wheels bumped into me.

  “Mi nieto did not mean those harsh words. Old wounds yet to heal remain between my son and my grandson. Juaquin is too much like his father. They hurt. They lash out. They say things they do not intend. They make a reality of what they most fear. Losing each other.” She reached for the hand that was clenched by my side and squeezed it. “Go bring him back. I think he will listen to you. You might be the only one who can get through to him,” she added as I shook my head. “The rest of us have certainly tried. I know he roars like a lion with a thorn in his paw. But you are no timid mouse. Talk to him. Help Juaquin to see reason. Help him bridge the gap of pride that keeps the two of them apart.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  King

  I heard her soft footfalls and her sweet peachy scent filled my lungs, but even without those cues I would have felt her approach. My senses had become that attuned to her.

  “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” My head drooped, the crimson panes in the stained glass window above casting its bloody accusations down on me. “I’ve screwed this up with you already. You should go. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” I clasped the hands I had twisted to
gether on the back of the pew tighter and felt the prayer bench under my knees groan beneath me as I shifted my weight. I waited for her to retreat, counting the heartbeats that would mark the end of my time with her.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  “Juaquin,” she whispered, dropping down on her knees beside me. A stripper queen and the king who was one in name only. We made for an odd pair inside the hospital chapel. “I could go, but I could never truly leave you.”

  I glanced at her and discovered only sincerity within the depths of her beautiful grey-green eyes.

  “Forgive me.”

  “I already have,” she returned. My heart blazing gratitude back at her, I unclasped my hands and covered both of hers with one of mine.

  “I don’t know what to do anymore,” I admitted. “He doesn’t listen. I’ll never be who he wants me to be. I should just stop trying.”

  “If that’s what you think is best.”

  “You sound like you don’t think it is.”

  “It’s not my decision to make.” A shadow crossed her face. “Although I made one like you’re talking about with my own father during the last summer he came back to live with us.”

  I stroked my thumb across her knuckles. “Your brother told me he was especially hard on you.”

  “Yeah.” She blew out a breath. “Our father was a mean son of a bitch, but I was his preferred target. Stupid. Trashy. Lazy. Disobedient. Those were his kindest words for me.”

  “You’re the opposite of those things, mi reina.”

  “Maybe now… mostly.” She shrugged. “I only share to point out that though our situations are similar, I doubt my father ever loved me. Yours certainly does.”

  “He has a horrible way of showing it.”

  “If the way he treated you was the norm during situations that don’t involve life and death stress, I might say yes. But what if he’s only acting that way because he’s scared?”

  “My father’s not afraid of anything. Not even death. That’s why he blows off all the doctor’s directives.”

  “What if you’re mistaken? What if he sees being sick as a weakness? What if he fears disappointing you? What if he fears losing you so much like he lost Adrian that he pushes you away hoping to make it easier to bear when it finally happens?”

  She glanced up at the image of the crucifix above us. “I could be wrong. I don’t have all the answers. Forgiveness is definitely the more difficult route. But if you decide it’s the right one, I know it won’t be too hard for you.” She glanced back at me. The look of confidence she gave me made me believe anything was possible. “You have a beautiful heart, Juaquin. You said earlier you lose those you care most about, but I think that’s not true. Bad things have happened to you and your family. You see them as a failure on your part. Adrian’s death. Your father’s coldness toward you. The rift between you and Sager. But that’s not because you love wrongly or too little. It’s because you love so much.”

  “Miriam…”

  “It’s true. I saw it all those years ago. I see nothing new in the man you are now that changes my opinion. You guard. You protect. And when you fail at those duties you think your heart isn’t good enough, but it is. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

  • • •

  Miriam

  We returned to his father’s room just before the anesthesiologist was scheduled to arrive for a preoperative discussion.

  At King’s request, the room cleared for a private airing of grievances between a stubborn father and his equally stubborn son. The rest of us were silent as we waited outside in the hall. Anxious eyes focused on the closed door. There had been no shouting, nor was there anything spoken about what had transpired before we were invited back inside. But I knew as soon as I saw his father’s reserved face and King’s fierce one that my monarch had done the harder thing. The better thing. The road to hell might be paved with good intentions, but I believed the one to heaven must be paved with noble actions such as his.

  “I would like to speak a bendición before the surgeon comes to take you, mi hijo.” Abuelita lowered her head and rolled fingers adept at their task over her rosary. I noticed that all except Juaquin and his father had their own set before I respectively bowed my head like the others, listening with an interested ear as Abuelita asked God the Father to guide the surgeon’s hands and petitioned St. John, the patron saint of heart disease on King’s father’s behalf. Apparently there was a fair possibility that bypass surgery would be needed, but the medical team wouldn’t know for sure until they performed the heart catherization.

  “In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, Amen,” Abuelita ended, and we all lifted our heads. “Bless you, mi hijo,” she told Juaquin’s father as the cath lab team reentered the room.

  Juaquin’s mother said nothing, but her eyes attested to her full heart as she kissed her husband’s cheek.

  Sager and King moved to stand on either side of her as she stepped back. Melinda with her white cane leading the way found Abuelita. Untethered, I remained in the corner watching as the anesthesiologist administered a sedative, and the transport nurse raised the rails of the hospital bed. Once the brake was released, they were on their way. As they passed my position by the door, Raúl’s eyes met mine. This time they lingered, and maybe it was just the anesthetic effect, but it seemed to me as though there was a spark of genuine interest in his gaze.

  • • •

  King

  Hospital waiting rooms sucked. They had when my dad had his heart attack. They had after Melinda’s accident. They still did now. The only thing that made the wait remotely bearable this time around was the fact that Miriam was at my side.

  “What time is it?” Sager asked.

  “Five minutes later than it was when you asked five minutes ago.”

  “Fuck you,” mi hermano said without any real heat.

  But I shot him the finger anyway.

  “Nietos,” Abuelita clucked her tongue at us and shook her head in disapproval. “Stop acting like little boys.”

  “Sorry, Abuelita,” we said in unison, then grinned stupidly at each other. We were acting dumb. We seemed to regress within the confines of hospital walls. We didn’t like them. Once upon a time, we had each walked in with a brother in our lives, but then walked out without.

  “Melinda,” Miriam addressed Sager’s girl. “My brother tells me you’re putting the finishing touches on an unplugged album with the Jones twins. How’s that going?”

  “Really well.” The pixie sat up a little straighter, her worried expression clearing and firing with artistic passion. “Sager’s doing our album cover.”

  I leaned forward. This was news to me. Very interesting news.

  “That’ll be fantastic.” Miriam glanced at Sager. “He’s incredibly talented. I’ve seen his sketches. The tats he’s done for the guys of course, and the portrait he did of you. It’s stunning.” Sager leaned in, paying attention to the conversation, too. Stunning it might be, but it was difficult to look at without getting emotional knowing he had painted it for Melinda. She had lost her sight before she got a chance to appreciate it.

  My mother chimed in with her rapid-fire Spanish. I interpreted, because no one but me could keep up when she talked that fast. Not even Abuelita.

  “She wants to know if the album will be finished in time for Avery and Justin Jones and Melinda to join Tempest on our fall tour.”

  “That’s a stellar idea,” Sager said, smiling at our mother. The suck up.

  “I’d buy a ticket to that lineup.” Miriam’s plastic chair jostled my own. Everyone started speaking at the same time. We forgot our anxiety for a couple of moments because of my queen’s redirection. No one even noticed the cardiologist entering the room.

  “The Acenado family?” he queried to the room that had only a couple of other waiting groups in it. I stiffened internally. His demeanor was somber. My mother stood. My abuelita turned her wheelchair. M
elinda grasped Sager’s hand. I reached for Miriam’s.

  “Everything went very well.” Audible breaths were released all around. Miriam kissed my cheek. “Two of his vessels were nearly completely occluded, but we were able to open them with stents. Looks like we’re going to be able to avoid surgery. He’s in recovery now, but they should have him a bed in the cardiac unit shortly.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Miriam

  “No. It’s ok. I can talk. We’re just waiting for King and his mom. Sager’s staying here tonight with King’s dad. Their mom’s too exhausted after spending the night here. She and everyone else are going back to the house.”

  “All of you?” Mike asked. Even over the cell connection I could hear the surprise in his tone. “How big is King’s house?”

  “Not very, I don’t think.” Though I had known Juaquin’s family for years, and his mom had voluntarily catered my eighteenth birthday, I had never actually been inside his home. “Melinda and I will share King and Sager’s old room. King’s sleeping on the couch. His mom has her room. His abuelita sleeps in the garage that they converted into a handicapped accessible suite. But why all the interest?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out how you lovebirds are going to keep your hands off each other tonight or rather how you won’t. On an airplane, girlfriend? I’m not even a member of the Mile High Club. Where is my famous boyfriend when I need him?”

  I laughed.

  “Good to hear that sound. I was beginning to think I’d lost my knack of amusing you.”

  “Never.”

  “So his father’s really out of the woods?”

  “They think so. We peeked into his room. He’s resting comfortably.”

  “That’s really good news, Miriam.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So how are things with you and Mr. King-sized?”

  “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that.”