Relentless Rhythm (Tempest #4) (5 page)

“Can I get you something to eat? Are you hungry?”
Please say yes.

“Sure.” He slid his hand to my shoulder, long fingers pressing in deep and just a little too hard as he leaned down to brush a kiss across my lips. “Something to eat might be nice. For a start.”

Shit
. Nausea crashed over me. He was feeling amorous. I ducked my head and started for the kitchen, but I wasn’t fast enough.

He grabbed my arm and swung me back around, his grip tight enough to hurt. “What the hell happened to your neck?” His eyes were wide, his voice low and angry.

“A guy at the club got too pushy.” Heart hammering, I stepped back hoping he’d let me keep the distance between us. “He put his forearm into it.” I freed my hair from its holder, dropping the elastic into my pocket before running my fingers through the loose strands, trying to act nonchalant. “Tan took care of him.” No way was I going to mention the role Dizzy had played. I knew his involvement didn’t have anything to do with me personally, but I knew that’s not how James would interpret it. He was always too quick to fly off the handle, and way too quick to call in his scary friends to help him enforce his skewed sensibilities.

“I should fucking hope so. What kind of sloppy operation is he running over there?” He let me keep my space and I took immediate advantage of the opportunity to gain even more distance between us. I hurried through the living room filled with oversized masculine furniture and went straight to the kitchen. He followed on my heels continuing his rant. “I’d never tolerate shit like that happening to my staff.”

No he wouldn’t. I knew he was telling the truth about that, but then again his club and the Mine were two entirely different things.

“I’m going to make myself an egg sandwich with the hard boiled eggs I cooked earlier today.” I swallowed to moisten my dry throat. “Is that ok with you?”

“I suppose so. If that’s the best you can offer.” He stood beside me near the small kitchen table while I gathered what I needed from the fridge. I set an armful of condiments beside him, pretending I was comfortable with him this close when in reality I was cringing inside.

He suddenly grabbed my chin and tipped my head back. “We’re not through talking about this, April.” I blinked at him, holding my breath. “I told you before that I don’t like you working there.”

My chest got so tight that my vision tunneled from lack of air. He made me feel as trapped as I’d been when backed into the corner by that jerk at the club. Somehow I kept my head, knowing it would go better for me if I didn’t make a big deal about this. Sure he controlled the game, and held the trump card he could always play, but I had a few cards in my hand, too. Hoping it would allow me to keep working where I wanted to, at a job that was as important to me as my stories were. I played one now.

I forced a smile peering prettily at him through my lashes. I held the look even though his expression remained rock hard. “You sure that’s what you want? Me to quit? I guess I could always come tend bar for you.” Back when we were first dating, I used to visit him at work. He’d only been a manager then, now he was part owner, but it’d been obvious he’d been uncomfortable with me there even back then. I used to think he was embarrassed by what he did. Now I knew it was because he had his own brand of compartmentalizing. I’d had my suspicions confirmed with my own eyes. I told myself that it didn’t matter, and that I didn’t care. But deep down I knew that was just another lie.

I took a chance and pushed a little harder in the opposite direction of what I wanted to throw him off. “I could give my notice tomorrow. I’m sure Tan can get one of the other bartenders to take my shifts.”

“No need for that,” he stated without even pausing to consider.

I almost sagged in relief.

“But I want you to be more careful, babe.” His dark brows lowered. He let go of my chin and stroked my cheek with his thumb before turning a chair around and straddling it.

“I will,” I whispered. No way I wanted to repeat any part of this evening from the time that creep put his hands on me until now. Although it’d been nice what Dizzy had done, nice to have someone rushing in to rescue me instead of turning their back on me, nice for once not to feel so abandoned and alone. But I couldn’t afford to let Mel’s issues distract me again. I’d have to be more focused and vigilant about my own safety in the future.

I quickly finished making his sandwich. I wanted to be alone with my own thoughts, take a shower, and scrub every bit of taint from tonight off my skin. I handed James his plate before starting to work on mine. I sat down across from him, and we ate our late night dinner together, but in silence except for the muted sounds of the old building creaking and our porcelain plates scraping against the wooden table top.

“You finished?” I asked after I’d finally managed to choke down half of mine. My stomach was still so tightly knotted I couldn’t make myself eat anymore. It tasted like ashes.

He nodded and slid out his phone, finger gliding around the display. I picked up our plates, rinsed them, and put them in the washer. When I turned back around his head was still bowed over the screen, his face blue from the reflection.

“I’m beat. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. You staying up?”
Please, please stay up.

“Yeah for a little while. Don’t hover, babe. You know how that irritates me.”

“Alright.” I buried how relieved I was by his response. Maybe I’d get a reprieve tonight. Maybe he’d replaced Rebecca with someone else. Maybe we’d go back to me just being a prize he liked knowing was at home and on his shelf. I draped my arms around his neck and kissed the edge of his mouth, between his soft lips and the rough stubble. “Goodnight,” I whispered.

He mumbled the same without kissing me back. His emotional detachment didn’t even make my heart twist anymore.

I stripped down once I was inside our bathroom, shoved my clothes in the overstuffed hamper, and stepped into the shower, zealously scrubbing my skin with my loofah and my peony scented bath gel grateful for the running water that camouflaged the tears and the sound of my sobs.

Feeling a little better afterward, I dried off, slathered my body with lotion that matched my bath gel, and pulled my robe off its hook. I was so tired, so ready to get into bed and burrow under the covers.

When I pushed through the double doors, my heart plummeted, sinking like a heavy weight into the pit of my stomach.

James had a dark look in his eye as he came toward me, his shirt off, his jeans still on. His broad shoulders and his muscular torso loomed larger than usual illuminated by a single lamp from his nightstand. His shadow fell over me, and I wanted to run. I didn’t want this.

He gave my body a leisurely heavy lidded head to toe scan that ended back on my chest. He moved directly in front of me. I started to shake, the blood pumping through my veins turning to ice. I couldn’t help it. It was either tremble with the effort it took to remain still or flee. I dropped my eyes. Better to stare at that solid wall of his chest, than into the merciless gaze of a man who didn’t love me. Who only wanted to control me.

I popped in ear buds and scrolled through my latest playlist. My musical tastes tended to run in phases, and my current obsession was British punk. I selected a tune from my list and cranked it.

The frantic rhythm of the Sex Pistols “God Save the Queen” blasted my eardrums. My fingers flexed automatically duplicating the chords. I’d get out my SG and figure it out later but that would have to wait. For right now, I needed to run. I needed the punch of adrenaline and my feet pounding the pavement to clear my mind.

Oakleys protected my overly sensitive red rimmed eyes from the morning sunlight. I’d thrown back
way
too many shots of Tequila with that Mine waitress last night. I pulled my hood over my head and threw open the glass door. Exiting the residential side of the Sutton Place, I broke into a sprint. Turning left, I passed the circular driveway and headed downhill toward the waterfront.

This early on Sunday, only a few intrepid souls wandered the downtown streets. I liked feeling as though I had the entire city to myself. I always felt most comfortable in an urban setting, whether on the road with Tempest or back home in Southside Seattle.

Concentrating on my rhythmic breathing, the air a cold punch to my lungs and a bracing slap to my face, I felt my lips settle into a serene smile. Running was turning out to be a pretty decent substitute for one of my former habits. It took the edge off like the drugs I’d once depended on. My sister approved, but I hadn’t really needed her endorsement to prompt the change. That night in Orlando had been a brutal wakeup call for all of us.

We both should’ve known better, growing up with a crack addicted mother. She’d nearly destroyed our lives jonesing after her next fix. But I guess in another way heading down a similar path had been predictable if not inevitable. Bad genetics after all. I think my sister worried that we would never escape them.

Well the running was working out so far. At least, it kept me from dwelling on that other shit.

Green lights all the way, I hit a really good stride, pulling in oxygen to fuel my racing heart. I heard the hum of a seaplane and turned to watch its takeoff from the Burrard Inlet, the waterway that divided downtown from West Vancouver.

I was rapidly becoming addicted to my early morning runs. Though the guys in the band were like brothers to me, I craved this time by myself. I tried never to make waves and to avoid confrontation, so I needed the breathing room to keep my temperament even.

I turned left, slowing to a jog before I hit the eleven kilometer circle of Stanley Park. My mind drifted as the wind rustled through the foliage on one side of my path and ruffled the surface of the water on the other. I wondered how long the band would have to remain in Vancouver. Probably as long as it took to get a new album hammered out with our new lead singer, I guessed.

Justin Jones was a big unknown for all of us. He seemed like a decent guy. My sister sure liked him a lot. But he wasn’t Warren, and he wasn’t Southside. I suspected he would always be an outsider. He didn’t have the history with us.

At the halfway point on my route, I passed Prospect Point, the Lion’s Gate suspension bridge to my left. I forced myself to keep my pace at a steady jog. I was working on endurance. If I wanted to have enough kick at the end to make it back to the Sutton Place apartment Black Cat had rented for me, I was going to have to exercise more self-control.

But I was really tempted to go full out on the straight away, to pretend it was possible to outrun the past. The fucking nightmare weighed my thoughts down. Usually I was able to avoid situations that triggered them. But the events at the Mine last night brought it all back, front and center. Not only had I seen the panic in April’s eyes, I’d felt it. Remembered it. Relived it.

Fuck it.
I ran hard and fast, the air slicing into my eyes, dragging tears from them despite the protection of the shades.

I ran out of juice shortly after I passed Second Beach. Bending over, gasping for breath, I dropped my hands to my knees. Those things I refused to acknowledge caught up to me all at once. Even after all these years, the shame still sickened me. I staggered toward the water and dry heaved. I hadn’t eaten this morning.
Thank God.

My cell rang. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and straightened glancing at the display.
Mel
.
Shit
. She’d finally worn me down. I’d given her my number last night, mostly because I wanted her to keep me in the loop about April.

“Yo.”

“Hey, Diz. Whatcha doing? I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time? It’s so early I really wasn’t expecting you to pick up. I thought it would go directly to your voicemail, and I was just going to leave a message.” She was talking so rapid fire fast she sounded like my sister’s new roommate Bridget. I wondered if she was nervous. She wasn’t usually with me.

“I’m in the park. Just got through running.” I paused to swallow the acrid taste in my mouth. “I’m on the way back to the apartment. What’s up?”