Relentless Rhythm (Tempest #4)
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Authors: Michelle Mankin
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Relentless Rhythm
Book four in the Tempest series
Copyright © 2014 by Michelle Mankin
Cover created by Michelle Preast of
Indie Book Covers
Formatting by
JT Formatting
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Table of Contents
Information on Sexual Violence
To those who persevere,
who continue to believe in love,
and who are never too old to dream
the aspect of music comprising all the elements (as accent, meter, and tempo) that relate to forward movement
My knee bounced anxiously, out of sync with the light pattern on the dance floor behind me. I tried not to focus on how late she was or how panicked my reflection looked between flashes in the mirror that framed the bar. The heavy bass rhythm of the digitally remixed cover of Brutal Strength’s ‘Brothers’ was starting to drive me crazy, my nerves stretched tighter than the E string on my Gibson SG.
This was a bad idea.
Strike that.
A
really
bad idea.
One of my worst.
I should’ve just told her how it was going to be. I shouldn’t have given her any options.
I wrapped my fingers tighter around the snifter between them instead of drumming them on the oak surface the way she did whenever she was nervous. My silver thumb ring clinked dully against the thick glass as I adjusted my grip, staring into the amber liquid it contained. My vision went blurry remembering how she had compared the color to my eyes.
We’d wasted so much time dancing around what had always been there between us. I couldn’t seem to shake this awful feeling that it was too late, that we had waited far too long.
Worry sloshed against the sides of my stomach like the drink did in the glass I held in my hands. I was a wreck, but tried not to let it show. Keeping up the pretense, I pretended that warming the brandy was my only concern.
“You’ve been nursing that one a while,” Montana Sims’ deep voice boomed louder than the club music nearly making me jump out of my skin. Polishing a beer mug with a bar towel, wearing a Harley Davidson Henley that betrayed his one other passion besides his bar, the crease between his shaggy red brows deepened as he studied me. I shifted in my barstool not because I was uncomfortable with his scrutiny but more that his massive body was blocking my view of the employee entrance in the mirror behind him.
“Let me get you another one of those, Son.” The Diamond Mine’s owner lightly lined freckled face softened. “On the house,” he added when I shook my head in refusal. “It’s the least I can do.” His mouth formed a familiar smile, but the look in his eyes didn’t gel with it, making me wonder if it was possible that he was worried about her, too. “Maybe the Martell X.O.”
“Be a waste to break open that limited edition stuff for me.” I certainly wasn’t in the proper frame of mind to enjoy it. And wouldn’t be until I finally saw her walk through that door.
“I insist. You’re practically family. Besides, you look like you could use a little pick me up. Humor an old man.” His strong features stretching into stubborn lines, he slid a fresh glass toward me.
“Alright, thanks.” I could see that there was no point in arguing further. He was just as stubborn as my sister Lace whenever she made up her mind about something. “But you know you’re not old, Tan.”
“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. I guess it all depends on your point of view.” A gold filling in his incisor flashed at me inside a ready smile. “But I don’t need you sweet talking me, Dizzy Lowell. I’ve been a big fan of yours all along. It just took a bit longer for some of us to come around and appreciate your potential.” He winked, and that’s when I read the truth within his steady gaze.
He knew about us.
He was right. It had taken her a long time. So damn long that I had thought I would never be given a chance.
Even though he was a big guy, Tan moved efficiently and almost as easily as she did behind the bar, sliding the bottle he wanted off its perch on the glass shelf. I took advantage of his momentary distraction, lifting my gaze to that spot in the mirror and immediately squeezing my eyes shut in frustration when it continued to remain empty.
Where the bloody hell was she?
I refused to consider the possibility that she wouldn’t show. She’d come. She had to. She’d promised me.
Tan was watching me carefully when I opened my eyes. He uncapped the Martell.
Be cool like your reputation, Diz. Smooth as the finish on that aged brandy he’s pouring.
Following the steps the way she’d demonstrated, I examined the golden amber surface color and swirled my glass releasing the ground spice and rich red berry aroma. Hoping the alcohol in the thirty-five year aged cognac would burn off some of the edge in my mood, I lifted my glass to Tan in approval before taking a measured sip. The rounded and fruity flavors of fig and walnut followed by the finesse of Grande Champagne crossed my palate immediately and warmth spread from my throat to my chest, developing into a silken finish. “Outstanding,” I told him, holding his gaze for a moment before looking around the club as though I’d just noted she wasn’t around. “Hey, have you seen April this evening?”
“No, but it’s her night off. Were you expecting her?”
“Yeah, I guess.” I scrambled for a cover story that wouldn’t compromise her. Though now I was starting to get worried
and
a little pissed. “Mel said something about them coming in to shoot some pool.”
Tan frowned. “That so? Well, I haven’t seen either one. Have you tried calling?”
I nodded like that was an option. One wasn’t speaking to me. The other I couldn’t call.
Tan must have read the panic and frustration on my face. He leaned in closer and spoke low, “Love that woman like she was my own daughter.” He held my gaze seeming to want me to pay close attention. “But I worry about her. I’ve heard things, about James, if you know what I mean?”
Ah, so apparently we both knew her secrets, maybe even the part she had hidden from me for so long. Fear froze my vocal cords as his comment brought to the forefront the thought that had fueled my worry. The one I’d kept trying to push back.