Relentless Rhythm (Tempest #4) (15 page)

“What ‘ya doing, jobber?” I asked, my voice overly bright, sitting down next to Michael on the leather couch. I pulled him into my lap and buried my face into his neck, seeking refuge from Dizzy’s perceptive, penetrating gaze.

I sensed him standing in the doorway. I seemed to be hyperaware of his presence all of the time lately. What he was waiting for I couldn’t say. I had just given the best shutdown performance I had in me. Surely, he’d give it a rest now. Leave. I really needed him to go before I caved in. It was too hard to pretend. I wanted him so much. I doubted that I was strong enough to resist him much longer.

“Tell me the rest of the story.” Michael clicked off the television. “Tell me how Astral gets away from Jamison.”

The door suddenly flew open before I could refuse. John bounded into the house, face lighting up when he saw me before giving Dizzy an uncertain glance on his way over to me.

“That’s Dizzy.” Michael answered his brother’s unspoken question. “He’s April’s friend. This is my brother John. You’re just in time for April’s story.” While Dizzy and John sized each other up, Michael rambled on unaware, scooting down the couch to make room for John.

“Ok.” Eagerness shone on John’s face, but he seemed to be unsure if it was cool to be excited about a children’s story in front of a grown up stranger.

“I can’t wait to hear this.” Dizzy moved to the matching recliner, took a seat, challenging eyes meeting mine. “Someone catch me up.”

“Sure.” Surprisingly, John answered him. “There’s a girl names Astral. She ran away from her parents who treated her badly. She met a boy named Daniel, and his best friend Marta, who have magical powers. They took her with them to their secret world.”

“There are mermaids, warriors, and pirates,” Michael interrupted.

“Yeah and Daniel teaches her how to fight with a dagger and she meets his friends and everyone tells her how she looks like the missing daughter of the pirate king.”

“That’s Jamison,” Michael interjected.

“Astral and Daniel like each other,” John continued. “But Marta gets jealous.” Dizzy’s brows lifted. He looked at me, and I flushed with embarrassment. I don’t think the similarities to my real life were lost on him. “She tells Jamison the location of Daniel’s secret hideout, and Jamison kidnaps Astral.”

“Daniel gets mad and he banishes Marta,” Michael interrupted again. “And that’s all we know.” He grabbed my hand. “Tell us what happens next, April.”

“I’m sure Dizzy has better things to do than stay here and listen to my silly story.” I gave him a pointed look.

“On the contrary.” Dizzy settled back into his chair, lifting his studded brow. “Sounds intriguing.” He turned to my Michael. “What does this Daniel guy look like? Is he handsome?”

Michael stared into space brow scrunching, but it was John who answered, “Chocolate hair, golden eyes and he has an earring in his ear, a silver hoop one, like the one on your lip, and he has studs just like you have in your eyebrow,” he added thoughtfully.

“Very interesting,” Dizzy concluded pinning me in place with a wry look.

“Thanks again for giving me a ride to the airport on such short notice,” Justin told me as I shifted gears on the Granville Bridge. “I’m sure you have lots better things to do on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Forget it. It’s no big deal. Really.” Which wasn’t exactly true. His dilemma had taken me away from April mid-story, but I’d heard enough to know a couple of things, for one, she was an incredible story teller. The little details she added completely transported the listeners into the tale. I’d gotten irritated in more ways than one when Lace texted me about what had happened between Justin and Bridget. I’d been just as eager to find out what happened next as her brothers were. Secondly, she was into me. That character Daniel, the hero, was definitely me. Which meant she’d been thinking about me. A lot. Most of all, what April wouldn’t say when pressed about her husband’s vices told me all I needed to know. She didn’t like it. That was clear. And she didn’t love him. She’d already confirmed that in the storeroom right before I’d almost kissed her.

She was wrong. She so needed a rescue.

“I thought you and Bridget were solid.” I glanced over at our new lead singer. Even in profile I could tell he was barely holding it together. He had one hand on the backpack in his lap and a passport in the other, a death grip on both. His muscles were coiled so tight, I half expected that he would jump out and run into the terminal before I could get the car completely stopped.

“We were.” A whirlwind of heavy shit swirled in his eyes. “We are,” he clarified. “Only I’ve got an ex from hell who somehow managed to convince her otherwise.”

“That’s messed up.”

He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but I knew better.

We were both silent for a while. I had troubles of my own. April monopolized my mind. Even when I was away from her she consumed my thoughts. It was nothing new, but it had only gotten worse after Whistler. I hadn’t nailed another chick since then. I was horny as shit, but I only wanted April.

I was so screwed. Figuratively, anyway.

I dodged an erratic taxi, and glanced at Justin. I understood Lace and Bryan, as a couple I mean. They’d had a connection for years. Everyone in the band saw it coming, except for War. Justin and Bridget on the other hand… not so much. Justin got around a lot, at least the way my sister told it. Bridget was pretty. But she was a single mom, introverted, shy, and the kind of woman that required a commitment.

“First time I saw her,” he said softly while staring straight ahead as if reading my thoughts. “I knew she was different. The more we hung out, the more certain I became. She’s the real deal. Genuine. Compassionate. Stronger than she realizes. You know what I’m saying?”

I actually nodded my head.

I did know.

Man, did I ever.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on now?”

“Mom...” I squeezed my eyes shut, my grip tight on my mug, the heat radiating from the ceramic burning my fingers.

I felt her hand cover mine. Tears sprang behind my eyes, making my vision watery when I reopened them. Across the kitchen table from me, her expression was soft, her eyes nonjudgmental. “Are you having an affair with him?”

“No.” I knew who she meant. At least with that I could be honest.

“But you’re thinking about it?” She gave me a knowing look.

I nodded, remembering the way Dizzy had looked as he’d passionately argued with me in the rain, his sexy hair wet and dripping into his fierce golden eyes. Yes, I wanted him wicked bad, but it could never happen. I sighed. “I don’t even know where to begin.” Or where to stop and how much detail to reveal that would be enough to satisfy her curiosity without compromising her safety.

“Just tell me about you and James, honey.” She squeezed my hand, then leaned back in her chair and blew on her tea. “It’s obvious you’ve been having trouble since we lost Quinn.”

My stomach clenched, blood draining from my face. The force of her name brought with it loss as fresh as it’d been the moment the doctor gave me the news. That I’d never be able to hold her, kiss ringlet curls I’d imagined she’d have, or hear the sweet sound of her laughter. I blinked rapidly trying to rein in my emotions before they spilled away like all my dreams for her.

I couldn’t do this. I pushed the cup away and started to rise.

She gathered my hands in hers while tears like silent raindrops fell from my eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, honey. The doctors said…”

“I know what they said, Mom.” I sniffed. “But if I hadn’t…if we hadn’t…” I couldn’t talk about the specifics with her. Sex was supposed to be safe even in the third trimester. But not the kind James liked, not the kind I used to enjoy, before he got too rough. Before it became clear that what he really enjoyed was hurting me.

“You have to stop blaming yourself,” she stated firmly. “As much as you loved her, maybe she wasn’t meant to be born.”

“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “I don’t believe that.”

She came around the table and wrapped her arms around me, laying her cheek on my head. “No one knows why these things happen, honey. Like with George. We either let them break us or use them to make us stronger.”

“Yeah, well. I guess I failed then,” I mumbled.

“No, you haven’t, but sometimes it’s the second guessing we do to ourselves that causes the most harm. It’s not too late to pick up the pieces.” She sat back down and leaned forward, hands clasped together, beseeching. “Have you considered marital counseling?”

“No,” I answered so quickly her eyebrows rose.

“Why not? Don’t you want to save your marriage? You used to be happy with him.”

“I know.” This was the tricky part. The part she couldn’t know. What I wished I’d known before I married him. His connections. The ones he brandished like a weapon the one time I’d tried to leave him.

I gathered my courage and drew it around me like a protective mantle. I had to shield her and my brothers at all cost. They were what mattered. That was something I could control. “It’s not fixable, Mom. Not by therapy, ok? It takes two for that to work, and he’s not willing.” He’d started fooling around after the accident. Had kept his hands off me until after I tried to run away. He didn’t love me. I was just another one of his toys now. A possession.

“I’m sorry.” Her face fell, and her shoulders slumped.

“Me, too, Mom,” I lied. “Me, too.”