Taken by Storm (4 page)

She knew she’d always been the one person MJ depended upon. The one and only person he trusted. Until she left. She’d broken his trust, and he might never give her the chance to earn it back.

“What’s to forgive? You’re both young. This rift is only temporary. You two will work it out.” He turned her around in his arms to face him. His eyes were as blue as hers behind his glasses. “Don’t you remember how you two fought when you were young? Always bickering and picking at each other. That’s what you do.” He gave her a little shake, smiling. “Do you trust me, Peach?”

She felt the corners of her lips tilt up, and she nodded.

“Good. You’ll get past this. Give it time.” He kissed her forehead and let her go.

Her dad’s confidence never wavered, and it gave her hope that maybe he was right. Maybe she was just too close and too emotional to see her situation with MJ objectively.

“How’d he take the news?” He tapped her ring under her shirt.

“There is no news. I haven’t decided. That’s why I’m here, remember?” She tapped his forehead.

He laughed. “I know why you’re here.”

She shook her head, but didn’t ask him what he meant. She knew. He thought she was there for MJ. Maybe she was. Maybe she couldn’t make this decision without fixing things with him first.

“Have you spoken to Talan since you’ve been here? I’m not blind, Peach. I know you were just crying. You can’t think clearly around MJ. That boy pushes your buttons like nobody else ever could.”

Maybe it was the accusing look in his eye more than his question that had the guilt in her heart rearing its head.
“No, I haven’t talked to Talan. We’re on a break, remember? That means I don’t talk to him until I figure out if I want to marry him.”

He nodded slowly. “I think a break is an excellent idea. Why the rush?”

Maddie took his hand in both of hers. “He said it felt like the right time, and it was, except I panicked. He’s incredible. I couldn’t ask for a better man to marry. Really.” It was the truth and Maddie hoped her dad could see the conviction in her eyes. “He loves me so much, Dad, and he makes me happy. He’ll take care of me.”

Much to her chagrin, her dad frowned. “But do you love him? Will you take care of him? It goes both ways, Peach. I can tell you from experience it doesn’t work when your marriage is housed on a one-way street.”

“Yes. Of course I do.” She did. She knew in her heart it was love she felt for Talan. A warm, kind, and caring love—not a love that would burn her to the ground and leave her in ashes. It was the responsible kind of love that people based marriages on. “Yes,” she said again.

Her dad smiled, pacified, and kissed her cheek. “I know you’ll make the right decision, Peach.”

They walked side-by-side to the patio behind the garage. Maddie hooked her arm through her dad’s. “You shouldn’t stay up so late. I expected you to be in bed by now.”

“Who’s the parent here anyway?” He tweaked her nose, and they started up the stairs to the apartment. “Enzo had a lot on his mind tonight. A lot to discuss.”

“It’s after one in the morning! That’s excessive, don’t you think?”

“I know I’m no spring chicken, but I’m not dead yet.” He opened the door and ushered her in before him. “Besides, I can’t sleep more than a few hours anymore anyway. Might as well have some company.”

A twinge of guilt sank into her chest for not being around to help her aging father. Another man she loved and let down by leaving him alone.

“Get that look off your face,” her dad said, picking up a throw from the back of the couch that she’d wrinkled earlier and re-folding it. “I’m more than fine here by myself. I don’t need you around here worrying about me. I’m a grown man, Peach.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Obviously. But I do worry. You should be retired, lounging on a beach somewhere or a golf course.”

“Enzo and I went golfing three days ago. It’s not like he has me digging ditches.”

“I know.”

He kissed her forehead. “But it is time for these old bones to crawl into bed. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Already have.” She rose on tip-toe and kissed his cheek. “See you in the morning.”

“ ’Night, Peach.”

Restless after her dad went to bed, Maddie bounded down the stairs and out onto the patio. She felt like lighting up another cigarette, but knew the only reason she was
smoking again was because she was back home and completely stressed out. She’d hate herself if she got hooked again. It took forever to quit.

Plus, her dad would smell the smoke on her.

One of these days she’d stop worrying about what he thought. She wasn’t a kid anymore, and she’d left all of her teenage fantasies behind over a year ago.

MJ stood at his window peering through the slats in the shade. When Maddie pulled his shoes off, she’d woken him.

She hadn’t wanted to break her promise, she’d said.

But she had, and that was what put them here now—apart.

Maddie had been sitting on the patio sofa under the blinding full moon for at least twenty minutes. He couldn’t tell if she’d fallen asleep with her head tilted back or not. If she had, she’d have one hell of a sore neck when she woke up.

He thought about going down and finding out, but hated himself for even considering it. Hated himself for standing there watching her like some love-sick high-school boy.

Shit, she wasn’t his to think about like that anymore. He had to get out of here. If she was staying, then the sooner he left the better.

The house he rented with two roommates was only for the school year. The problem was that they were teammates, or had been before he got booted off the baseball team. Now he didn’t know if they’d welcome him back or
if he’d have to find somewhere else to crash. He only had a couple weeks to figure it out.

With one last look, he stepped back from the window. She’d shaken him. From the minute he heard her voice tonight, he’d been out of his mind. His sanity had already been hanging by a thread since Rachael, his dad’s girlfriend, had shown up, before Maddie had strutted into the driveway and back into his life.

MJ crashed down on his bed and squeezed his eyes shut tight so the room wasn’t spinning. From outside his bedroom door, he heard his grandfather, the only other person in the house, pad down the hall. He didn’t think the man ever slept, probably thought sleeping was a waste of time when he could be scheming how to ruin someone’s life. The man was sadistic, worthy of being the evil dictator of a third-word country.

MJ shucked off his jeans and yanked his T-shirt over his head. He was hot from drinking and wondered what temperature the cheap Old Man had the AC set to. Didn’t help that thinking of Maddie made him sweat.

He ran his hand over his chest and stopped above his heart where a black tattoo of an ornate skeleton key was inked on his skin.

She had its other half—a lock in the shape of a heart with a keyhole in the center—tattooed on her lower stomach beside her right hip bone. Laying on top of her, he’d slide down to kiss her breasts and their two tattoos would come together. Lock and key.

God.

He ran his hands over his face, roughly.

He had to stop thinking about her. She wasn’t his and never would be again.

His pillows shifted and the sheet tangled around his legs as he rolled over and buried his head. Sleep. He just needed sleep. Everything would look better in the morning.

Sometime during the night, MJ’s lip had swollen to double its normal size. It throbbed like it had its own heartbeat. So did his head.

Hungover and feeling the aftereffects of his night of heavy drinking, he stumbled out of bed and staggered to the adjoining bathroom.

Why did he have to be so stupid?

After taking the hottest shower he could stand, he dressed and headed down to the kitchen to find food. The greasier the better. He smelled bacon and his stomach growled.

He rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. Rachael sat on a stool at the breakfast bar jabbing a text message into her phone. Yesterday he’d been hesitant and a little nervous when she arrived. Now he just wanted her gone.

She looked up and saw him standing there like an idiot. “Morning,” he said.

“Morning.” Her eyes had dark bags under them. “What happened to your lip?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He spotted a plate of bacon and some toast on the counter and helped himself to it, clamping his teeth down on a slice of toast and tearing a piece off.

“Right.” He could feel her eyes boring into his forehead. Her phone chimed and she struggled to keep back a smile that tugged at the corners of her lips as she read the message on her screen.

“Merrick?” he blurted without thinking. Damn if he didn’t sound anxious for it to be his dad she was texting.

Her eyes darted up to his, dark brown and guilty as hell. “No,” she said, and flickered her eyes back to her phone. “Sorry.”

Bullshit. MJ knew something was going on.

Rachael tucked her phone into her back pocket. “So, are you coming to Turtle Tear with me to visit with your aunt and uncle and meet your cousins, Holly and Sam?” She patted her pocket with the phone. “That was, um, Beck, the pilot. He wants a time to meet at the airport.”

Beck the pilot, huh? “I don’t think I’m going with you. I’m going to pretend none of this ever happened after you leave.”

Rachael smirked, silently calling bullshit on
him
. “Do what you have to do.”

MJ’s grandfather slipped into the kitchen. “Why are you eating in here? We have a dining room.” He put a hand on Rachael’s back. MJ watched her flinch. “How are you this morning, dear? Have you heard from my son?”

Enzo Rocha, always on his game. MJ laughed silently to
himself. He knew his grandfather’s strategy. First he took Merrick’s son, then his property, and finally he’d turn his girlfriend against him. If the Old Man had his way, Rachael would leave here wondering why Merrick was such a terrible son, why he couldn’t see that his father was doing everything for his family’s best interest.

If only MJ could figure out why Enzo had to make Merrick out to be the bad guy. Why was it so important that the Old Man come across as the hero?

Maybe Merrick was a bad guy, but MJ knew Enzo was one too.

He didn’t want anything to do with either of them.

Rachael squeezed her lips into a thin line and shook her head. “I haven’t heard from him.”

MJ almost spit out the sip of coffee he’d just taken. Rachael was a terrible liar. A poker face she
did not
have. She’d heard from Merrick, all right.

His grandfather made a
tsk tsk
sound. “He’ll come around.”

MJ tossed his toast back onto the plate. He wasn’t going to stick around and listen to false promises that his asshole father would come around. He strode past his grandfather, but the Old Man caught him by the arm. “Hold on a minute. I’d like to talk to both of you in my office in an hour.”

“I have plans.” MJ tried to free his arm, but his grandfather held tight.

MJ clenched his teeth and smiled. He knew not to press his luck with his grandfather, but if he could take one
swing… it would only take one and the years of held back aggression would take the Old Man down.

“Your plans can wait.” The look he gave MJ was like a dare and a promise all in one narrow-eyed glance. It said,
I’m the reason you’re not on the street. You’ll do as I say or you will be.

MJ jerked his arm hard, freeing it. “Yeah. One hour. Got ya.”

M
addie stopped the golf cart beside the lake at the back of the Rocha property. She walked a fine line by being there. More memories of her and MJ than she cared to remember lingered in the water and the blowing limbs of the moss-covered trees. She wasn’t sure she could hold them at bay, or the tears they would inevitably bring with them.

She picked up a long stick and rounded the lake, batting the tall grass in front of her as she went. Startling unseen things—turtles and frogs—with each footfall, they splashed into the lake making the water ripple and sparkle in the morning sunlight. Mixed with the heady scent of dry grass and wildflowers, it was almost too much for her to take.