Relentless Rhythm (Tempest #4) (18 page)

“No.” I watched as she swept all the emotion from her face. She smiled at him, but it was a pale imitation of the one she’d given me earlier. It was tainted with a desperation that I now thought I better understood. “Not at all.” Unclenching her fists, she wiped her palms on her jeans then stepped toward him covering his hands with her own. The gesture seemed to placate him somewhat. “This is Mel’s boyfriend. Dizzy Lowell.” She looked to me as she completed the introduction, eyes begging me to go along with the ruse. “I’d like you to meet my husband, James Reynolds.”

I smashed his fingers as we shook hands. He was cranking hard, too, as we took each other’s measure. Bastard. I’d never hated anyone more in my life. I wanted to mess him up. It made me furious knowing that he’d hurt her. I wanted to plant my fist in his face as much as it seemed that he wanted to do the same.

Hell, yeah. Game fucking on
.

April sensed the tension. She drummed her fingers on the bar nervously as she glanced back and forth between us. I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, but she seemed to be holding her breath. “What a nice surprise,” she said finally. Again that fake smile. “Is everything ok, honey?”

“Does a guy need a reason to come see his beautiful wife?” He took a seat in the stool next to me, shooting a disgruntled glance my way before refocusing on April.

She shook her head.

“Things were slow tonight. I thought I’d come keep you company a while and then drive you home.”

“Ok.” I watched her throat move as she swallowed. She looked even more nervous. “Great. That’d be great.” I noticed her hands visibly trembled as she mopped up a nonexistent bar spill. “Can I get you anything?”

“Whiskey, neat.” As she turned to do his bidding her elbow hit her makeshift vase and knocked it over.

James zeroed in on it. “Where’d the flowers come from, baby?”

April froze.

Bloody hell.
This was killing me to watch. She was a better actress than I’d given her credit for being. She wasn’t just scared of her husband. She was fucking terrified. I didn’t understand it.
Why would she stay with him? Why didn’t she just leave?

“They’re Mel’s,” I quickly covered for her. “April’s just holding them until she gets through singing tonight.” April’s shoulders visibly relaxed. She pulled a high ball glass off the rack and turned back to us, pouring James his drink with her head down, her expression once again blank.

“You and the pixie, huh?” James turned to me.

I shrugged.

While we’d been talking, the band had stopped. People starting cozying up to the bar. April excused herself from us and began serving them.

I could feel the animosity between James and me growing. I wanted to throttle the guy and it was taking everything I had in me not to clamp my hand on his windpipe right then.

“Dizzy!” Mel scooted sideways between us, launching herself at me, twining her arms around my neck. I stiffened reflexively but removed them slowly knowing James was watching us. “You came.” Her sapphire eyes sparkled reflecting the flashing club lights. “Did you hear me sing?”

“Yeah, Bluebelle, I sure did. You were intense. Had everyone mesmerized.”

“I only care about one,” she murmured shyly cheeks turning pink.

Bloody hell.
April was right. I should’ve talked to her ages ago. After tonight I was going to have a hell of a time letting her down. “Hey.” I touched her shoulder to get her attention. “Look who’s here?” I lifted my chin. Mel swiveled around. I saw the sudden tension in her spine. I got the feeling she didn’t like James, either. Made me wonder what all she knew.

“I haven’t seen you since the hospital. How are you?” she sounded genuinely concerned.

“I’m alright. Those things are always harder on the ladies.” He glanced at his wife. Looking uneasy she returned his stare turning away when another customer demanded her attention. “I’m sure she’ll come around.”

My brow creased. I was totally confused. When Mel mentioned the hospital I thought they were talking about April’s stepdad, but the rest of it didn’t make any sense.

“I hope so, too. I’m just glad she’s out of that dark place she was in.” Her blue hair swung across her shoulders as she shook her head and her eyes became unfocused. “She was so excited when she got pregnant.” Mel’s voice trailed off.

I looked over at April, mind spinning with this latest revelation. I didn’t want to believe it, but I saw the truth in her eyes as they tangled with mine. She’d seen our somber expressions. She knew what they were talking about. Her lips flattened, she ducked her chin to her chest, and turned away.

“So how long have you two been together?” James’ voice brought my attention back to our end of the bar.

“We’re not…” Mel started, but I spoke over her.

“What she means is that we’re not exclusive yet.” My stomach churned with the lie. “But of course I want to. Who wouldn’t want to with a girl like Mel?”

The blue haired pixie swiveled around and beamed fucking rainbows at me. She grabbed my hand and my stomach muscles clenched as she brought it to her lips. “I hoped…”

“You coming to the concert Friday?” This was getting out of hand fast and I needed to instigate damage control and change the subject before I got buried under all the bullshit.

“Yes of course.” Her smile widened. “You gave me the tickets, silly. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I just wish April could come, too.” She turned to James. “Brutal Strength is performing. You know they’re her favorite band. I bet you can still get tickets if you try.” Her tone was beseeching.

“She has tickets,” I blabbed like an idiot. “I gave her four. I figured she might want to bring her brothers,” I tried to hurriedly explain my way out of the hole I’d dug as two sets of speculative eyes swung my way.

James studied me with a look on his face that I couldn’t for the life of me figure out. “Sure. Since we already have tickets. Why the hell not?”

 

 

 

“OMG! Miss V is here, and look there’s Carter Besille with her!”” Mel bounced on the edge of her plush seat at the classy Vogue Theatre, then craned her neck around and grabbed my hand.

Those weren’t the first celebrities we had seen, but she got just as excited at each sighting. We all did really, except for James. He had a tight grip on my other hand. He’d been more possessive than I could ever remember. But I managed a discrete turn of my head to catch the infamous songstress with her black hair piled up on her head and her boobs nearly falling out of her dress walking down the carpeted aisle hanging on the arm of the popular talk show host who looked like a suntanned Ken doll in an expensive suit.

The atmosphere really began to buzz as the eleven hundred capacity seats filled with media, national and local celebrities, and fans.

James fingers tightened more. I stared down at our clasped hands. He’d been smothering me, overly solicitous and watchful since he’d met Dizzy at the bar. I didn’t know if it was because he sensed the current between me and the handsome rhythm guitarist or if there was something else I was missing. I just knew his behavior set me on edge.

“Miss Belle?” A young usher with an open friendly face stopped at the head of our row that was only three back from the stage.

“Yes?” Mel looked up at him expectantly.

“Mr. Lowell sent me to escort you and your party backstage.”

“Come on!” Mel swiveled to me her face alight and tugged on my hand. Her gaze passed over James, who had his cell to his ear. He’d been on and off the phone since we arrived because of some kind of crisis at the club.

“Please, April?” John and Michael begged softly in unison, darting careful glances at my husband. They looked so cute spiffed up in their suit and tie finery, their unruly hair slicked back, but they were always subdued around my husband. As if they sensed my uneasiness. It was the complete opposite of the way they’d been around Dizzy. Telling that. If only I’d been as perceptive
before
our marriage.

I slid my hand from Mel’s grip. “James.” I touched his arm. His gaze swung to mine. “We’ve been invited backstage.”

Eyes narrowing, he held up a finger. I scooted back in my seat, acid churning in my stomach, knowing that look. He didn’t like to be interrupted.

“You go ahead, Mel,” I whispered. “I don’t think we can.”

“I’m not going without you.” Her face flushed as she threw my husband an irritated look. She didn’t like James at all. “I’ll wait.”

I felt torn. As much as I wanted to go backstage, I didn’t want anyone to see the cowering creature I became around my husband. Especially Dizzy. There was also too much potential for disaster, putting Dizzy and James together again. The web of lies we’d woven about Dizzy’s relationship with Mel could easily unravel if my husband was in the mood to discover the truth. And that wouldn’t be good for any of us.

“Hold on, dammit!” James scowled growling into his phone. I stiffened beside him. He rarely lost his temper, especially in public. He set the call on hold and leaned toward me. “One of Mr. C’s people got too rough with one of the subs again.” His voice was low and harsh in my ear. “I’ve gotta go down to the club and smooth things over, baby.”

I tried to hide my disappointment. We’d have to leave with him, missing the show.

“I’ll bring them home after.” Mel leaned forward boldly. “I’ve got my car.”

James’ lips flattened as he considered Mel’s offer. “Alright,” he said reluctantly.

I quietly let out the breath I’d been holding.

“But, April.” He put his hand on my neck and pulled my face forward toward him, his expression dark and foreboding. “Keep clear of Lowell. I don’t trust that guy. You get me?”

“Yes.” I gulped.

“Good.” He squeezed my neck as an additional warning that wasn’t necessary and let me go, shuffling down the row past us to the aisle.

“Cool!” Mel exclaimed without hesitation. “Let’s go.”

We followed the usher up a set of stairs to the right of the curtained stage and tromped down a long winding crowded corridor, dodging people armed with urgent expressions and cell phones along with red faced stagehands rolling heavy equipment.

We stopped in front of a black door labeled number three inside a gold spray painted star. The usher rapped twice and then pushed it open, stepping nimbly aside so we could enter. Holding my brothers’ hands in my own, we walked in after Mel.

My eyes swept a room that was larger than I expected. All the Tempest guys were there, and also Lace and Avery…
OMG!
… Jones! But though inwardly freaked out to see her, I had a new favorite guitarist now. It was him my eyes stalled out on.

My entire body, cheeks to toes, flushed with pleasurable heat.

He looked sexy as hell, kahlua and cream hair gelled, spikes every direction, messy in a wickedly good way. His amber eyes shined as he returned my stare, his expression intense. It was hard to look away, especially since he was wearing nothing from the waist up.

I knew that the guys always performed sans shirts. I’d seen the YouTube videos. But seeing it on my computer was one thing. This was real, and this was now. Slack jawed, nearly drooling, I took him all in. The gleaming taut muscled slightly tanned torso. Had he oiled his skin? Holy shit! I wanted to find out. Badly. A black ribbon of writing circled his neck like a chain. And don’t forget that dark line of hair, the one that pointed south, the happy trail between his lean hips that disappeared beneath the silver buckle of his low hanging jeans.

Vaguely I registered Mel crossing over to him as I stood there holding my brothers and gawking. As they conversed, his gaze remained locked on me. I tried not to hyperventilate.

“Hey, Dizzy!” John shouted, tugging on my hand as he started forward. I blinked and stumbled along with him. My body jiggled as Michael hopped in excitement. Dizzy’s eyes dropped to my chest. My blush deepened.

I suddenly felt awkward, more than a little overwhelmed. Here, now, in this room, it really hit me what big stars Dizzy and the guys were. I didn’t really fit in. I wasn’t a performer like Mel. My equilibrium left me.

“Yo, John and Michael,” Dizzy slapped hands with my brothers. “I’m glad you could come. They beamed back at him. Though my head was spinning, I noticed Mel’s frown.

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