The Storm (The Storm #4) (7 page)

Regret fills his eyes, and he looks away from me, his hands gripping his knees. “You know, I always felt like I’d missed the mark with Jonny.”

I reach over and put my hand on Bob’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze, before letting go. “You were a great dad, Bob. Trust me, I know bad ones, and you most definitely weren’t a bad dad.”

“Yeah, I did everything right. I went to all his school plays, watched his gigs, supported him. But there was always something missing, something inside of him that I could never reach, something angry and unfulfilled. I should have done more to stop the drugs…with all of you.”

His eyes come back to me.

“There was nothing you could have done. We all had to find our own way. Jonny’s death was not your fault,” I tell him.

His eyes glaze with tears, and it hurts me to see him in pain.

“It was my fault because I’m his dad. And it was my job to protect him…protect him from the world and himself. I failed at that. I don’t want to fail again with Storm. He needs me now. He’ll need me more when Tiffany dies. He’s going to need me. I’m his family.”

“
We
are
his family.”

Gratitude fills his eyes. “I’m man enough to admit that taking care of him, without Lyn here, terrifies me, Jake. I don’t want to fail that boy. I
can’t
fail him.”

I shift in my seat, turning to him. “You won’t fail him because you’re not doing this alone. I wanted to wait and see exactly what it is that Tiffany wants from us for Storm before speaking to you about this. I don’t know if she has a plan in her mind for his care when she’s gone. But as far as I’m concerned, whatever she does have in mind, if it doesn’t involve us, then we’ll change that.

“I spoke to Tru before I left to come here, and she agrees with me. I’m hoping that you will, too. We want you and Storm to come to LA and live with us. You could either move into the house with us, or Stuart’s old place on our property is empty. But we want you close by. We want Storm with us. And it’d ease the burden of you raising him alone.”

I prepare myself for Bob to reject my offer. I know I’m asking for a lot. I’m asking for him to leave his home, his city. And Bob is a proud man. I’m just hoping that, with age, he’s gotten realistic.

He glances away. For a few long seconds, he looks out the window at New York moving past us. Then, his eyes come back to me. “A change of scenery might be just what Storm and I both need.”

A smile pushes up my lips, and I sit back in my seat. “We’ve just got to convince Tiffany now.”

Bob huffs out a short laugh. “I don’t think Tiffany is going to be the one we’ll have to convince.”

That, I have to agree on.

Storm might not be Jonny, but from what I saw earlier, he has his father’s stubbornness. And one thing with Jonny was, once he’d set his mind on something, there was no changing it.

I just hope I can get Storm to my way of thinking.

If I’ve learned anything from my kids, it’s that, if I want to get them to do something, I have to make them think it was their idea in the first place.

I just need to figure out how to do that with Storm.

When we get to Bob’s house, I head straight upstairs to call Tru. Dave and I are staying at Bob’s tonight, at his insistence, rather than checking in at a hotel.

Lyn and Bob never moved, so this is the house Jonny grew up in. I remember Jonny offering to buy them a bigger place after the money started rolling in when our band hit the big time, but they turned him down.

Even now, Bob is a wealthy man from what Jonny left them, but he doesn’t mirror his riches with how he lives.

I guess the money is something Bob will need to take into consideration, now that Jonny has an heir. I’ll talk with him about that later.

Right now, I just want to talk to my wife and kids.

As I step into Jonny’s old room, a hundred memories wash over me.

The room hasn’t changed. It’s still a shrine to Jonny’s memory.

The posters of naked chicks and bands are on the walls. Jonny’s old music sheets and his first ever guitar, his Fender Stratocaster, are propped up on a guitar stand. A mini guitar amp and guitar pedal are sitting on the floor next to it.

Even after all these years, I can still smell my youth in here with the lingering cigarette smoke and stench of grungy teenage boys who didn’t realize that showering regularly would be a good start to getting girls.

It brings a sad smile to my lips.

I drop my bag on the floor and sit on the edge of the bed.

I stare over at a framed picture on the desk of Jonny, Tom, Denny, and me. It was taken right before we did our official first gig as The Mighty Storm. I remember shitting myself that night. Jonny was calm as fuck, like he just knew he was born to be up onstage.

Sucking in a breath, I shut my eyes.

“Why did you have to fucking die?” I breathe the words out. Opening my eyes, I focus in on him in the picture. “You should be here, Jon. You should be here with your kid.”

Rubbing my eyes dry, I get my cell from my pocket and FaceTime Tru’s cell. I need to see my family’s beautiful faces as well as hear their voices right now.

“Hey, baby,” she answers.

The sight of Tru’s face and the sound of her soothing voice ease me.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m better now,” I tell her with a smile.

She smiles back, lighting up her face. “How did it go with Storm?”

I let out a breath, my fingers rubbing my forehead. “Not great. He didn’t want to talk to us. He stormed off to his bedroom. Tiffany suggested we go back later for dinner after she’s had time to talk to him.”

“Makes sense. He’s thirteen and going through a lot right now. His emotions have got to be all over the place.”

“Yeah, I just…”

“Patience, Jake. I know you don’t have much of it, but you’re gonna need it in spades with this kid.”

“I’m trying.” I give a weak smile that I know she totally doesn’t buy.

“How’s Bob doing?”

“He’s holding up. I spoke to him about him and Storm moving in with us. He agrees it’s the right thing. Just need to speak to Tiffany and Storm about it now.”

“What’s Storm like?”

“Exactly like Jonny.” As I say the words, the emotions I’ve been holding in all day come out, my eyes filling with tears.

I don’t have to pretend in front of Tru. She’s the only one I can ever be myself with.

“It was like I went back in time, and I was thirteen years old with Jonny standing in front of me.”

“Oh, honey,” she whispers, touching her fingers to the screen.

I press my fingertips against hers on the small screen of my cell.

“It was just a shock, seeing him, you know?” I move my hand from the screen and dry my eyes on my sleeve.

“I know, baby. So…you’re going back tonight for dinner?”

“Yeah. Hopefully, we can spend some time with Storm and talk to Tiffany about where we go from here.”

“Is that Dad?”

I hear JJ’s voice in the background.

Tru’s head turns slightly. “Yeah. You wanna talk to him?”

The next thing I see is JJ’s face.

“Hey, Dad. Guess what?” His brown eyes are all bright, and he has this huge smile on his face.

My heart feels lighter seeing him. He looks so much like Tru. Belle does, too. Only Billy has my black hair and blue eyes.

“What?” I smile.

“At school today, in recess, we were playing soccer—the boys from my class against the boys from the grade above us. We totally won! And the best thing? I scored the winning goal!”

“That’s amazing, JJ!” I exclaim. “I wish I could have been there to see it.”

“Yeah, me, too! It was so awesome, Dad. You would’ve loved it.”

The next thing I hear is, “JJ! Where are you?”

The sound of Belle’s squeaky voice makes me chuckle.

“I’m in Mom and Dad’s room, talking to Dad,” he tells her.

“Dada’s home?”

“No, he’s on the phone. You wanna talk to him?”

“Gimme phone.”

The phone starts to move, and I’m guessing that Belle is grabbing at it.

JJ laughs. “Love you, Dad,” he gets in before Belle wrestles the phone from him.

“Love you, too,” I call out.

Then, I see Belle as she holds the phone up close to her face.

“Dada, guess what?”

“What?” I smile at her.

“I got mawwied today.”

I freeze. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Mawwied. I got mawwied, Dada.”

“Um…who to?”

“Cweed Cawter.”

“Uncle Tom’s Creed?”

“Uh-huh. Aunt Wywa, Cweed, and baby Woni came to pway. Aunt Mimone and her huge tummy and Fwankie came, too.”

Tom and Lyla have two kids. Creed is the same age as Belle, and Joni is six months old. Simone and Denny just have Frankie at the moment—who’s six, the same age as Billy—but Simone is pregnant with twins, and she’s due in a few months.

And I’m going to be having some serious words with Tom, telling him to keep his kid in line. No way is my girl marrying a Carter—well, any male—ever. Belle’s going to be a nun when she’s older. I’m not even kidding.

“How exactly did you get married, Beauty?” I ask her.

She gives me a look that clearly says she thinks I’m stupid for not already knowing. “Dada, I held his hand, of cwouse.”

I bite back the laughter wanting to burst from me. “And does Creed know that you’re married, baby?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “’Cwouse he does. I told him so.”

Yep, she’s definitely entering the nunnery when she’s older.

I press my lips together, the tears in my eyes now from humor.

“I love you, Beauty.”

“Wuv you, too, Dada. Bye.” She kisses the screen, leaving wet lip marks on it.

Belle drops the phone, and the next thing I see through those lip marks is my bedroom ceiling.

“Um, Belle?” I call. “Tru? Anyone?”

“Hey.” Tru’s smiling face appears as she picks the up phone.

“Belle just dumped me and ran off,” I tell her. “And she just told me about her marriage to Creed.” I give Tru a look, raising my brow.

“Oh, yeah.” Tru laughs. “No need to worry there. Poor Creed. He went white when she told him that they were married. He definitely doesn’t have Tom’s scent for women.”

“Oh, give him time.” I chuckle. “Where’s Billy?”

“He’s in his room, sulking.” She looks like she’s holding back a smile.

“Why’s he sulking?”

“He got in trouble at school today.”

My boys aren’t bad boys, but it’s not totally unusual for them to get into trouble from time to time. They have my naughty streak.

“What happened?”

“I’ll let him tell you. Hang on.”

She starts to move with the phone, heading for Billy’s room. “Billy, your dad’s on the phone.”

I hear him grunt.

“I don’t want to talk to him.”

Um, thanks, Billy.

“Billy, your dad misses you, and he wants to talk to you.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

Billy’s face appears on the screen, and a real scowl is etched there.

“Hey, bud. What’s up?” I say softly.

“Nothin’.”

“Mom said there was a problem at school today. You okay?”

His eyes flash up from the phone—at Tru, I’m guessing—his frown deepening. “Mom, you promised you wouldn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t say anything, I swear,” she says.

“B, your mom just told me that there was a problem at school, not what happened,” I tell him, bringing his eyes to me. “You wanna talk to me about it?”

“No.”

Um, okay.

“Anything else you wanna tell me about what happened today?”

He pauses for a minute, biting his lip. “Well…I did sign up for…guitar lessons at school.”

“You did? That’s awesome news!”

Finally, one of my kids is showing an interest in music. JJ is all about sports, and Belle is obsessed with princesses and apparently getting married.

A shy smile creeps across Billy’s face.

“I can help show you some of the basics before your lessons start, if you want. Put you ahead of the class,” I offer, wanting that smile to stay.

His eyes brighten, his smile getting wider. “Sure. That’d be cool, Dad.”

“Okay, we’ll do that tomorrow night when I get home. You and me, guitar lesson in my studio.”

“Can’t wait,” he beams.

My heart elevates.

I made him happy, and that makes me beyond happy.

Look at me, total expert at fixing my kid’s problem.

“Put your mom back on for me,” I tell him. “And, B? I love you.”

He pauses and smiles again. “Love you, too, Dad.”

Seriously, there is nothing like hearing your kids tell you they love you.
Nothing
.

Tru’s beautiful face appears back on the screen.

I can tell she’s walking, so I ask quietly, “You out of earshot, babe?”

“Gimme one sec.” I hear a door shut, and then she says, “Okay, go ahead.”

“What did Billy do at school? I’m dying to know.”

Her eyes fill with mirth, and she bites her lip. “Don’t tell him I told you.”

“I swear, I won’t. Now, tell me.”

“Well, he…
accidentally
killed the class goldfish,” she whispers, humor in her voice.

I hold back a laugh. “And how did he manage that?”