Chayton's Tempest (6 page)

felt when you didn’t get in touch with me? When you treated

me like I didn’t even exist?”

 
“What are you talking about?” Maverick dropped her

arm as he noticed the pain in her dusky brown eyes behind the

fury.

Reining in her emotions, she furiously shook her head.

“I don’t need to do this. I’m leaving.”

Somehow, Maverick knew if she were mad at him she

would stay, and perhaps he would be able to figure out what

was going on. “Ah, yes. Have to run home and get ready for

your boyfriend. Can’t you find anyone older?”

Crack!
Her palm exploded across his smooth face. “Don’t

you dare!”

He caught her wrist in his hand and glared at her.

“Damn it, that hurt!”

“Good.” A twisted smile crossed her face. “You have no

right to judge me.”

Tugging her closer to his hard body, he put his face close

to hers. He tried not to think about how much he wanted to

kiss her full lips or how soft her skin was beneath his hand.

“But you can judge me?”

“You’re damn right,” she snapped self-righteously.

“By what right?” he queried.

“Because I am not the one who abandoned the other.”

“What the
hell
are you talking about?” he bellowed.

Wrenching away from his grip, Tempest told him. “I’m

talking about the fact that I was shunned by both our families.

The fact that
I
had to move away and begin a new life, while

you
were allowed to grow up where you knew people. While

I...while I had to face the reality that you didn’t care for me,

and weren’t coming to find me.”

Maverick frowned as a deep dread settled in the pit of

his stomach. Licking his firm lips, he looked at her and said,

“Tell me how I know you.”

“My name used to be Sarah, Sarah Whitehall, and when

I left that little town of Little Creek,
South Dakota
at the age of

thirteen, I had no one. My family disowned me, and you and

yours didn’t want me. You know me, because five weeks

before I left, you got me pregnant. You got me pregnant and

then left me to raise our child on my own. That young man you

accused me of sleeping with is the result of that pregnancy. My

son.”

Her voice no longer had any emotion in it at all. It was

empty, dead; and for that reason, Maverick knew she was

telling him the truth. Tempest felt drained and empty as she

climbed silently into her vehicle and drove away.

Pregnant?
Maverick felt his legs wobble as his chest

tightened.
It can’t be true.
He remembered Sarah. She’d been so

full of life, even though her family constantly put her down,

especially her three brothers and one older sister.

At fifteen, he remembered walking out beyond the city

lights and finding her where she normally sat, along an

outcropping of rocks. He’d met her there and dried her tears

before kissing her tenderly.

That night he’d bumbled around like any teen who

wasn’t experienced in love. But he’d taken her virginity; and

then to his immense embarrassment, after doing that, he’d shot

his load deep within her, leaving her without finding any type

of pleasure.

Shamed, Maverick had run off, leaving her alone in the

night. He’d seen her a few times around town after that, but

he’d made sure he never spoke to her, his embarrassment was

too great. One day, he’d realized she was no longer in school

and neither his nor her family spoke about her.

But with the typical care of a teen, he’d moved on with

his life and in time forgot about her.

Moving slow with shock, Maverick was unprepared for

the fist that shot out and connected with his jaw. Stumbling

back from the force, he looked to see the young man that

worked behind the bar coming in for another hit.

“Bastard!” the man shouted. “I hate you!”

Wanting to contain the irate man, yet not get hurt

himself, Maverick tried talking to him. “Calm down.”

 
“Don’t tell me what to do!” He was swinging with each

word he snapped out.

Finally, some off-duty cops who were inside the bar

pulled them apart. The one who had the young man

reprimanded him, “Shame on you, Dakota. What is your mom

gonna
think when she has to bail you out of jail?”

“I’m not pressing charges,” Maverick announced. “We’ll

just forget it.” He rubbed the spot on his chin that Dakota had

hit repeatedly.

“Are you sure?” the officer holding him asked.

“Positive. No harm done.” Maverick waited until the

officers agreed and then headed off toward his bike.

The drive back to his hotel room was done in a way that

those who worked with him would have been scared, for the

expression on his face was deadly. In the room, he took some

cash and handed it to the manager at the front desk and packed

his sea bag. In less than an hour, Maverick was on I-25N

heading for his hometown.

_

Dakota burst through the door to his mother’s house. He

was furious and he wanted some answers. “Mom!” he hollered

the second his hand slammed the door behind him.

“Don’t yell inside,
Dak
,” Tempest reprimanded as she

looked at him from her spot in the kitchen.

“Who is that man?” he demanded, not lowering his

voice. “That one you were talking to outside.” At her
wideeyed

expression he added, “Yes, I overheard it all.”

Defeated, Tempest sank to a chair at the round kitchen

table. With one flick of her wrist she drank her two fingers of

Irish whiskey in one gulp. Closing her eyes for a moment, she

waved her son to the table.

Unsure of how he should feel, Dakota did as she’d

silently bid him to do, grabbing along his way two glasses and

the pitcher of lemonade. He poured them both a glass and

removed the Old Fashioned glass from in front of her. “Drink

this,” he commanded.

Her jaw clenching, Tempest did as she was told. She

took a sip of the lemonade and met her son’s dark gaze. A gaze

that was so like his father’s. “That man is your father.”

“I thought you said he didn’t want us,” Dakota fumed.

His strong fists clenching and unclenching.

“I don’t know what he is doing here. I don’t want to

know.” Tempest looked longingly at her whiskey that was on

the countertop but drank her lemonade instead. How that man

made her long for a drink.

“I hate him. I hate him for what he did to you,” Dakota

swore as his hand smacked the dark wood of the table.

“Sweetie, I wish there was something I could say to

make it better. I wish I had told you all of this sooner, but I

didn’t and I’m sorry.”

“So, Bertha wasn’t your mom?”

Tempest shook her head as she ran a finger around the

rim of her glass. “No, she was my aunt. But after I got

pregnant, my parents disowned me and she was the only one

who was willing to accept me. The day I went to tell your

father about you, his parents…well, let’s just say they treated

me about the same as my own did. Up until the day you were

born, I’d held out hope that he would send me a letter or just

show up at the door.”

“But he never did,” Dakota finished.

“No, he didn’t. I haven’t seen him since about two

weeks after we slept together.” She raised her eyes to meet her

son’s, expecting to see disgust, anger, or even hatred. Instead,

all she saw was compassion and sorrow.

“I’m sorry.” Standing up, Dakota moved around the

table to put his arms around his mother. “I’m sorry that I was

the cause of so much pain.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Sweetie, don’t ever apologize. You

are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I wouldn’t

change a single day of my life since you came into it.” Turning

her head so she could look into her son’s obsidian gaze she sent

him a smile. “None of this is your fault and I don’t ever want

you think it was.”

Tempest leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“Now, come tell me how things were at the bar tonight.”

With one last hug, Dakota took a seat across from her.

“This discussion isn’t over, Mom.”

She arched a brow at him and drank the rest of her

lemonade. “Who is the parent here?” she quipped.

Dakota just arched a black brow and stared at her. They

held each other’s gazes until finally he broke away. “I have

never been able to stare you down,” he complained as a grin

crossed his face.

“And you never will; that is the power of being the

mother—I win.” She laughed as a total look of disgust filled his

face.

Grumbling about the unfairness of it all, Dakota got up

and poured them both more lemonade and set out a plate of

cookies to go with their drinks. “What if he is here about me?”

Tempest reached back and undid the ponytail holding

up her thick hair. “Dakota, you are twenty-one, you don’t have

to do anything you don’t want to. I will not try to sway you in

any decisions.”

“I hit him,” Dakota blurted out.

“What?” she screeched. “Why?”

“Because you hit him and he’d abandoned us. When I

heard you tell him, I was furious. So after you left I punched

him. I hit him a few times actually. Cole and Trey were there to

break it up.”

“Ah, hell! Are you going to be charged?”

Dakota shook his head, his shoulder-length dark hair

flowing easily around his neck. “Nope, he said he wasn’t

pressing charges.”

“Well, you are very lucky. Look, Dakota, I have no idea

why he is here or what he wants. So please just try to be polite

if he comes back into the bar.”

 
“Anything for you, Mom.” He ate another cookie and

smiled. “I have a date this weekend, so I won’t be in the bar.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” She took a drink, fighting

the urge to pry. Dakota wasn’t ever on the schedule at work

since she wanted his schooling to be first and foremost.

“Don’t you want to know who she is?”

“I figured you would tell me if you wanted me to

know.”

“You are the best mother in the world.” He stood and

put his glass in the sink. At the doorway he turned back

around and grinned. “It’s Shelia.”

As her child slipped down the hall, Tempest shook her

head. She knew Shelia and liked the girl, a very intelligent

black woman who was also majoring in African-American

Studies. She’d been extremely polite the few times Tempest had

met her.

Tempest sat in the kitchen for a while longer. When the

urge to scream and cry had left her, she got up and headed to

her room.

As she stood in front of her mirror, her dark eyes were