The Storm (The Storm #4) (3 page)

My cigarette lights the dark around me as I take a drag on it. It’s my sixth cigarette since Tru left a few hours ago.

I’ve had to force myself not to go to where I know she is—at Simone and Denny’s.

Simone is Tru’s best friend. She’s married to one of my best friends and the drummer in my band, Denny.

Of course I know where she is. I always know where Tru is. I have GPS tracking on her cell and car—and not in a creepy way. She knows. It’s because of the accident and the fact that Tru and the kids are prime targets for fans and stalkers because of who I am.

Right now, Dave, my trusted bodyguard, is sitting outside of Denny’s house, watching and making sure she’s okay.

Not that she’s okay. I’m not okay.

But I’m hoping she will be, eventually.

Right now, I’m trying to give her the space she asked for. I know she needs time to think this out. It’s just how Tru is.

And I know Denny doesn’t know about the paternity suit. If he did, he would have called me by now.

I don’t want to keep it from him or Tom Carter, the bassist in my band and another one of my best friends. I got lucky when it came to friends.

Both Tom and Denny deserve to know because this involves Jonny, too, but I just want to talk to Tru and then get this fucking DNA test done before I talk to anyone else about it.

I mean, what’s the point of talking about the what-ifs? Might as well know the outcome and then talk about that, deal with that.

I just…I know this kid isn’t mine.

But…I want him to be Jonny’s. This kid, whose mother is dying, I’m wishing that his father, who also suffered that same fate, is Jonny because the selfish part of me wants a piece of my best friend back.

Is that wrong?

I flick the ash from my cigarette into the makeshift ashtray on the floor between my feet. It’s actually one of Tru’s ceramic bowls that she usually fills with some scented shit. Well, the scented shit is gone, and it’s now filled with ash and cigarette butts.

Although I understand her need to walk out, it doesn’t mean I’m not frustrated and pissed off.

So, yeah, ruining one of her ceramic bowls has made me feel a little better.

There was a time when, if I’d gotten some fucked-up news or something had happened to piss me off, I would have gotten trashed and broken some stuff, caused some damage to make myself feel better.

Now, I get off on fucking up Tru’s shitty little scented bowl.

Pathetic, I know.

I pick up my glass perched beside me on the sun lounger I’m sitting on and take a sip of whiskey.

I don’t really drink or smoke much nowadays. I stopped smoking not long after JJ was born. But fuck if I didn’t need one tonight. So, I pulled out the emergency pack I had kept stashed away, and had at it.

I put the glass down on the floor beside the ashtray before taking another pull on my cigarette. I blow out the smoke and stare out at the flickering lights of LA, wishing for a lot of things.

Wishing for my past to have been different. Wishing for this not to be happening now. Wishing my past wasn’t yet again hurting Tru. Wishing Jonny were still alive.

Music starts to filter through the speakers outside from the internal system we have set up in the house—“Never Tear Us Apart” by INXS. I know Tru is home, and I know she’s talking to me. Music—it’s how we always talk. And I’m taking this song as a good sign.

I glance over my shoulder, and she’s standing in the doorway. She looks just as beautiful, if not more so, as the day she walked back into my life all those years ago.

“You’re smoking,” she says softly.

“Yeah, sorry.” I put the cigarette out in the bowl, pushing it aside with my foot.

“Don’t be sorry. If I smoked, I’d be having one right now.” She looks down at her bare feet, curling her toes in, as she runs her hands down her skirt.

It makes me want to touch her. I need to touch her.

Her eyes lift back to mine, and the ache in them hurts me. “I’m sorry I left earlier. I know I should have stayed and talked. I was just…”

“Angry.”

“Yeah.” She blows out a breath.

She’s still standing in the doorway. Too far away.

I need her here.

“Come here.” There’s no argument in my tone.

And there’s no argument from her as she pads toward.

She goes to sit beside me, but I pull her onto my lap. With her legs on either side of my thighs, I band my arms around her waist. Burying my face into her chest, I just breathe her in.

The feel of her along with her scent always calm everything around me.

“I want to be angry,” she says quietly. But her hands tell me different words as her fingers gently sift through my hair. “But I just kept thinking about you—when you were a kid…and your dad…and if you hadn’t had us…”

I tip my head back, staring into her eyes. They’re glazed with the past and the present. The sight brings up memories of things I haven’t thought of in a long time. And I hate that she’s thinking of them now, that this is making her think, making her hurt.

If Tru hurts, I hurt. We’re bound together.

She’s the other half of me.

The best half of me.

“I don’t want this boy to be yours.” Her voice catches, and tears creep in her eyes. “But the mother in me…I keep thinking, if it were JJ, Billy, or Belle…I just can’t bear the thought of a child being alone without his mother. And…” She moistens her dry lips with her tongue. “Whatever happens, Jake, I’m right by your side. I’m
always
by your side.”

And fuck if I don’t love her more than I have in all the years combined in this moment.

“What did I do to deserve you?” My voice is hoarse, and the lump in my throat is the size of Texas.

“You just got lucky, I guess.” Lifting her shoulders, she gives me a gentle teasing smile.

I press my lips to hers, reverently kissing her, like she deserves to be kissed, how she should always be kissed. I know she deserves better than me, but I’m selfish and I want her. I just pray to God that she doesn’t wake up one day and realize this.

“You taste like the past,” she murmurs against my lips.

I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, and right now, I’m afraid to ask. Then, her grip on my hair tightens, and her thighs clamp around mine. She kisses me harder, and I know it’s a good thing.

When she parts from my lips, I’m hard, and I want to be inside her. No matter what’s happening or going on in our lives, I always want her. Nothing eases my mind or body like being buried deep inside Tru.

She places her hands against my cheeks, locking eyes with me. “I know I’m not perfect.”

“I think you’re pretty fucking perfect.”

A small smile touches her lips as she gently shakes her head.

“I’m going to feel cheated that JJ…that he isn’t your firstborn child. I might want to shout and scream, and I might hate the thought of how this will affect our kids, but I’m going to do my best to hold back my feelings and find a way for us to get through this. So, what I’m trying to say is…I know this isn’t going to be easy, Jake, and I might feel hurt and angry if this boy is yours—”

“He’s not mine.”

She pauses, giving me a look. “You can’t be sure of that.”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Nothing in this life is a surety, Jake.”

“The way I feel about you is. I’ve loved you my whole life, Tru. There hasn’t been a single second in it when I haven’t loved you, and I’ll continue to love you until my fucking black soul is dragged from this earth, kicking and screaming to hell. Then, I’ll continue to love you from there.”

“Your soul is not black. And you’re not going to hell.” There’s a touch of laughter in her voice.

Knowing I’ve eased her hurt, even for a split second, has me feeling worthy of her—even if just for that split second.

“Well, I sure as fuck ain’t going to heaven, sweetheart. Look…” I take ahold of her hand, pressing my lips to the palm, sliding my fingers between hers. I hold it against my face and stare deep into her eyes.

Looking into Tru’s eyes wrecks me, but it’s a wreckage I would happily go down with. I will go anywhere with her, do anything for her.

“I know you’re trying to look at all the angles so you can ready yourself for this. But I’m telling you, there’s nothing to ready yourself for. That kid isn’t mine.” I express the confidence in my words through my eyes to hammer the point home.

She gazes at me for a long moment. Then, closing her eyes on a blink, she releases a soft sigh. “You want him to be Jonny’s. That’s why you’re so adamant that he’s not yours.”

Fuck.

Tru always can see right through me.

She’s staring at me, and now, I can’t bring myself to look at her.

So, I look past her, at the City of Angels spread out behind her.

“Is that wrong?” I whisper the words.

She runs her thumb over my cheek. “No. It’s understandable. But, Jake…you…
we
need to prepare ourselves for the fact that he could be yours.”

Releasing her hand, I press my face into the hollow of her neck, my hands sliding up her back to bring her as close to me as I can. Even then, it’s not close enough.

I need more. I will always need more when it comes to her.

And I stay there, silent, breathing against her skin, inhaling her sweet scent.

No matter how much I might want to say it over and over again, telling her there’s no chance that he’s mine, she’s right.

There is that slim possibility that he could be mine.

And, honestly, I don’t know what the fuck to do with that.

-Uploaded by Em's EORD-

I watch Tru sleeping beside me.

The house is quiet, empty of the kids.

We should be tearing this place up, having crazy fucking sex in every room, like we used to before the kids came along.

Instead, I’m lying here, running all the what-ifs through my mind. Going over my past, I’m trying to remember this Tiffany chick who could potentially be the mother of my child. Pent-up aggression and frustration flow through me.

“Can’t sleep?” Tru’s soft voice surprises me.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“Trying to—unsuccessfully. I can hear the wheels turning in your mind. You wanna talk some more?”

Talk is all we’ve done

Talk and then have bouts of silence until neither of us could bear it. Then, when Tru suggested going to bed, I nearly sighed with relief.

I never thought we’d be here, that this would be us.

It’s not us. Tru and I don’t do this.

We don’t dwell. We get on with things.

Namely, I want to get on with her.

“No, I don’t want to talk.” I roll over, putting myself on top of her. “I just want to feel…I
need
to feel
you
.” I slide my hand up her waist, and wasting no time, I crush my mouth to hers.

And she’s right there with me. Her arms wrap around my neck, and her legs come up and around my waist. She moans into my mouth, and I feel it all the way down to my cock.

“Fuck, I need you,” I groan into her mouth.

“I know. I need you, too.”

This isn’t going to be slow loving. This is going to be hard and fast—but not too fast. It’s been way too long since I’ve been inside my wife. I’m going to savor every fucking second of this.

Tru’s hands work down my back, her fingers creeping into the waistband of my pajama bottoms.

Why the fuck am I wearing pajama bottoms when the kids aren’t home? For that matter, why the hell is Tru wearing pajamas? They need to go now.

“Clothes off. Now,” I tell her as I sit up.

I grab her pajama shorts and yank them off along with her panties, too, and then I attack her pajama top with the same ferocity.

Now, she’s naked, just how I like her.

Fucking perfection.

“You still have clothes on.” She gives me a sexy smile, nudging my pajama pants and massive boner with her toes.

I grab her foot and bring it up to my mouth. I run my tongue up her arch, loving the way she moans and lifts her back off the bed.

I nip her big toe with my teeth, making her squirm. Keeping hold of her foot, I shuck my pajama pants off. Then, I kiss my way up her gorgeous leg to her thigh. Her scent hits me, and my mouth starts to water.

I run my nose up her pussy, inhaling deeply. Then, I lift my eyes to hers. “I want you sitting on my face.”

“And I want you in my mouth.”

“Quite the dilemma.” I grin at her. “But we can make it work.”

I lie back on the bed next to Tru, and a beat later, she is on her knees, shifting around, until her beautiful ass is sitting just above my head.

I look up at her. Slightly bending over, she’s already staring at me with needful eyes. Lust and want burn through me.

I reach up and grab ahold of her thighs, and I pull her straight onto my mouth. As my tongue plunges deep inside her, she falls forward on a gasp, her hands landing on my stomach.

This is exactly what we both need right now.

We need each other. We need to fuck each other, long and hard.

Just for tonight, we need to forget everything else and remember each other.

As long as I have her, then everything else will be okay.