Relentless Rhythm (Tempest #4) (14 page)

 

 

 

Michael squealed my name as he barreled out of the kitchen at Mach speed. His small arms wrapped tightly around my legs as he pressed his face into the denim of my still damp jeans.

“Hey, little jobber.” My heart melting, I bent over and lifted him, pelting kisses all over his head as he desperately tried to avoid them.

“Quit it, April. Kisses are for girls.”

“You might feel differently about that when you’re a little older.” Dizzy chuckled. The deep masculine sound of his amusement heated other parts of me.

Michael squirmed in my grasp so he could get a peek over my shoulder. “Who’s he?”

“Michael meet Dizzy Lowell.” I turned with him still in my arms. Dizzy Lowell meet my little brother, Michael.”

“I’m not little.” Michael sulked. “Put me down.”

I complied with his demand, and he peered up at Dizzy, his lip between his teeth. “You’re tall,” he concluded after a moment of study. “And you’ve got an earring in your lip just like the new guy in April’s story.”

“Really? That’s interesting.” Dizzy arched his studded brow.

“It’s nothing.” I started to change the subject, but Michael spilled.

“April makes up the best stories. Better than anybody in the whole world.”

I snorted and scruffed his hair. “I’m glad you think so.” I steered him toward the kitchen. I needed to get him a cookie before he gave away any more of my secrets.

“You got a sister, too?” Michael interrogated from his perch on the counter, taking a big bite out of the cookie I’d given him.

“Yep. I sure do. Her name’s Lace.”

“She tell stories or got a ring in her lip?”

Dizzy chuckled. “No. But she sings really well and is going to school right now to learn how to make really cool clothes.”

“I don’t like clothes. Mom gets ‘em for my birthday. Toys are better. Is your sister pretty?”

“Lots of people think so.”

“Mine is,” Michael said without a pause.

“No doubt.” Dizzy threw me an intense look that made my toes curl.

“April, John’s still over at a friend’s house.” My mom clopped into the kitchen in her heels fastening her necklace and stopped cold when she noticed Dizzy.

Before I had a chance to make introductions, Dizzy took the initiative. “Morning, ma’am. I’m Dizzy Lowell. A friend of April’s.”

“Brandee Barrie.” My mom took his hand. “You’re Mel’s boyfriend, aren’t you? The musician?”

“No, I…” He pressed his lips together when he caught my subtle head shake. “Not really her boyfriend. Not officially, anyway.”

“You’re both soaking wet.” My mom looked back and forth between the two of us.

“Yeah, Mom. It’s really pouring out there.”

“I don’t want you catching pneumonia. Come with me, April Annelise.” Her voice rang with motherly authority. You need to get out of those wet things and take a hot shower.” She turned to Dizzy. “You too, young man. You can use the other bathroom. You’re a little leaner and taller than my husband, but I bet you can make do with some of his clothes while I put yours in the dryer.”

Dizzy looked amused as we followed her down the hall. “Bossy runs in the family, huh?” he whispered.

I glared.

Dizzy stopped just inside the doorway, suddenly transfixed. Framed by a hospital table littered with prescription bottles on one side and a wheelchair on the other, my stepfather slumped in a recliner, his expression vacant. Dizzy’s cognac colored eyes glistening with sympathy slowly shifted back and forth between the room’s frail tenant and me. I could tell he was shocked. The reality of my stepfather’s condition defined description. I looked away from the understanding I wasn’t prepared to accept from him.

My mom handed him a pair of George’s sweats and a t-shirt. “Just set your wet things outside in the hall.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dizzy replied.

“I’ll throw them in with April’s. They shouldn’t take too long to dry.”

Dizzy nodded and sauntered off. Michael climbed onto his father’s lap, leaned back and continued to munch his cookie.

“Do you want to tell me exactly what’s going on here, April Annelise?” My mom hissed, laying into me as soon as Dizzy was out of earshot.

“What are you talking about?” I scrunched my brows together in mock confusion.

“Stay here,” she ordered Michael, grabbing my arm, pulling me into the bathroom, and closing the door. “I’m talking about that slice of manaliciouness that you keep staring at like you want to binge on him.” My jaw dropped open. “Mel’s guitarist
boyfriend
,” she clarified unnecessarily. “Do you mind explaining yourself?”

My stomach sank. She usually seemed so distracted these days. I’d forgotten how perceptive she could be. And how direct.

“He’s just a friend, Mom.” I looked her straight in the eye knowing I had to make my fabrication convincing or she’d never let it go. “We ran into each other when I was on my way to the bus. He wanted to talk…about Mel.” I swallowed the lie with a noticeable pause. “He wanted advice. He’s not the type of guy who has relationships.” Back on more truthful ground the words came faster and easier.

She studied me, eyes searching. I shivered. Her face softened slightly . “Get undressed and get in the shower, honey.” I started to peel off my wet clothes. “We’ll continue this discussion when I get back, after he’s gone.”

Shit.

“I’ve let too much slide lately. You and I are way overdue for one of our chats.” She touched my arm softly. I turned around, shirt to my chest, my scarf still covering the physical bruises, but the raw emotion I hadn’t properly hidden was there in plain sight for her to see. “Oh, April. What’s happened? I know something’s wrong.” Her eyes filled. She pulled me into her. I’d never stiffened in my mom’s arms before now. If I let go, I’d completely fall apart.

Telling her the truth might make me feel better temporarily, but would upset her greatly and wouldn’t change anything anyway. I was going to have enough trouble trying to keep Dizzy out of it. I didn’t need to involve her, too.

 

 

 

I watched April as she tended to her stepfather. Seeing how loving and patient she was with him, I began to realize how deeply her true beauty really went. It threw my world completely off its axis. I felt as if I were falling, spiraling out of control. Respect. Admiration. Desire. She was forcing me to acknowledge things that I wasn’t at all sure that I was prepared to handle.

“You love him.” My eyes met hers from the other side of the hospital bed. She’d just finished getting him settled after a bout of agitation that she called one of his ‘episodes’. She tucked the covers around his chin.

“Yes.” Tears flooded her eyes. She turned her head to hide them from me.
So fiercely proud. So incredibly beautiful.
“Even though I wasn’t really his, it didn’t seem to matter to him. He took me to gymnastics. He taught me to drive. He bragged about me shamelessly. He…well…” She trailed off.

“Go on. Please.”

She turned off the overhead light and switched on a lamp beside the bed bathing the room in a softer glow. “He told me I was special. Not to give it away to just any guy.” Her cheeks turned pink. “He said I should hold out for real love.” She finally looked up, eyes meeting mine. “I thought I’d done that. Only I…Shit. Nevermind.”

“No. Not nevermind. Talk to me, April. Michael can’t hear us.” Her brother was hypnotized by an episode of SpongeBob Squarepants blaring from the television in the next room. Sadly, I could quote nearly every line.

She rushed from the room without answering.

“April,” I called, following her, curling my fingers around her arm, and turning her to face me. Her eyes were wide and sad, her expression forlorn. She stepped backward leaning against the wall and looking up at me in the shadowy hallway.

“You want me to tell you,” she paused to sigh, “that James is abusive.”

“I can see that for myself.” My gaze dropped to her neck. “I know what’s under that scarf, Kitten.”

“It’s not what you think.” Her hands fluttered up as if to cover the bruises that were already well concealed.

I grabbed them. They were soft and delicate. They made me want her in a way I hadn’t wanted any other woman. At the same time I felt a surge of hatred for the man who would squander such a precious treasure. “It’s exactly what I think.” I let go of her hands and tilted her chin back so I could look into her shining eyes. “I never told you before, but I saw you once, before we met at the Mine.”

She blinked slowly.

“At Pretty Tied Up. The bondage club.”

She paled, her look of confusion morphing into something resembling fear.

“So don’t try to deceive me. He chokes you. He gets off on that kind of thing…hurting you.”

She shook her head.

I moved closer gently framing her face between my hands, her hair silky between my fingers. My dick didn’t know this was serious and not sexual. The rest of my body didn’t get the memo, either. My heart raced, my pulse pounded through my veins. When I had a woman this close, touching her this way, it usually ended up with me turning her around and sealing the deal.

“No,” she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. “I mean, yes. You’re right. He gets off on it. But it’s consensual.” She sniffed. “I let him.” She closed her eyes, shuttering them from my perusal. A moment later she reopened them. It was amazing, the sudden transformation. An impenetrable shield had gone up. Eyes that had been soft were stony now. I didn’t like it. Even her body seemed to be encased in granite, the attraction that usually zinged between us interrupted. “So you see,” her voice sounded as remote as the rest of her felt. “I don’t need your interference.”

She turned and slid away from me, and I let her….for the moment. “I’m really sorry about the way you grew up,” she whispered her breathing heavy and ragged as she glanced over her shoulder at me once before continuing on down the hall. “I won’t tell anyone the things you told me. I hope you can respect my privacy as well.” She stopped and I stared at her delicate neck, her squared shoulders. “I’m fine, Dizzy. You need to stay out of it. What happens in my bedroom is my own business. I don’t need to be rescued.”

 

 

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