Breaking Her Bad by Michelle Mankin

 

 

 

 

 

Kyle

“Yes, I knew Collin.” Addy clutched the icepack in her lap. Her greenish-blue eyes were shiny when she looked at Claire. “He was the one I told you about this morning. The one I thought would be my forever.”

Claire glanced at me. “Only he wasn’t.”

Did her thoughts run along the same lines as mine? Was I it for her, or was she having doubts? I didn’t want that. Not when I was so sure she was it for me.

Addy’s lips flattened. “No, he wasn’t. He married Kyle’s mom.”

“Why? What happened? What went wrong?”

After firing off her questions, Claire took the only remaining vacant seat at the table. I moved behind her, placing my hand on the back of her chair. She swiveled to place her uninjured hand on top of mine. Her warmth seeped into me, her touch settling me.

“What didn’t happen, you mean.” Addy’s tone was bitter as her gaze turned unfocused. “Drugs. Greed. Betrayal by friends, manipulation by others. Finding out those outsiders we let into our tight group of friends, we should never have let in.”

“I’m sorry. That sounds terrible.” Claire put her left hand, the one Belinda had smashed, on top of Addy’s.

I had the thought that Claire formed a bridge, between the past that Addy represented and the present that she and I did.

“It’s over and done. The past is unchangeable.” Refocusing on her niece, Addy wore a determined look. “I try not to dwell. Your mom and I both do. It’s best not to, or you can never really move forward.” She attempted a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yes, that’s true,” Claire said. “But I’d like to talk more about this.”

“Perhaps another time.” Addy glanced at me. “I didn’t realize this morning who your boyfriend was. With you two together, it seems like another chance.”

“A chance for what?” Claire asked.

“A chance to redo the past. To get it right. I don’t want to interfere with that by bringing my old history into it.” Addy pulled in a breath and let it out slowly. “Don’t let anyone come between you. Be honest with each other. Don’t just share your hopes and dreams, combine them. Okay?”

She slid her hand out from under Claire’s, picked up the ice pack, and set it on Claire’s hand.

“Okay,” Claire said.

I considered her aunt’s advice. It was sound. But even as I thought on it, I knew hopes and dreams were Claire’s area of expertise, not mine. I just knew I wanted her.

“Good, honey,” Addy said, then glanced between us. “And don’t ever do drugs.”

Defensive, I flattened my lips. “I’m not my dad.”

“That remains to be seen.” Studying me without speaking for a long moment, Addy tilted her head. “My niece is obviously into you and you her, but you need to take better care of her than you have.” Removing Claire’s hand from hers, Addy gently set it on the table and stood. “I need to get back to work.”

Claire turned her head to watch her aunt walk off. I took the seat Addy had been in, and Claire looked at me, her brow furrowed.

“Addy only knows that I got hurt. She doesn’t know the specifics.” Claire frowned. “It’s not your fault. Not your responsibility.”

“She doesn’t need to know the specifics to be right.” My body tense, I reached for Claire’s hand. I covered it with mine, stroking her skin with my thumb. My tension eased from the connection.

Missy moved behind Claire’s chair and put her hand on the back of it like I had earlier. “You can’t be everywhere at once, Kyle.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Chad stopped beside Missy. Looking at me, he exhaled heavily. “I was just a couple of feet away from Claire when it happened, and Belinda slipped right past me.”

“No one needs to take the blame but Belinda,” Claire said firmly. “Can we please move on to another topic?” She glanced at me. “I finally get to be with Kyle without hiding it. I don’t want to waste time talking about Belinda or school.”

“Right.” Missy placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

“Us.” Claire glanced around the table, her gaze shiny. “Us as friends. Friends that are like family. Friends that genuinely care and look out for me. I’ve never had that before.”

“Never knew anyone like you before,” I said, my voice gruff. When Claire said heavy emotional stuff like that, the fragmented pieces of my heart fluttered as if each one had wings.

“Kyle’s right.” Missy nodded and squeezed Claire’s shoulder. “And you know how it is for me. I’ve never had a girlfriend. I feel fortunate to have one now.”

“I used to be a Southside newbie like you, Claire.” Chad moved to stand where she could see him. “But I made a friend, a genuine one. Lace made Southside feel like home. Missy does too, when she lets me be her friend.” He hit her with a censuring look. “Even if a friend tries to shut you out, you can’t let them. You have to take care of them like your aunt said. Friends are family you would die for, even if they’re stubborn. Even if they make you mad. “

“Lace made her own choice.” Missy moved beside him and bumped his shoulder.

Chad’s hazel eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t only talking about Lace.”

“Okay.” Missy frowned at him before looking at Claire. “Time for a new subject.”

Claire nodded. “We could do more homework, I guess.”

“No.” Chad groaned. “Please, no. I’m done.” He made a slicing motion over his neck. “You two talked Shakespeare to death. Let’s do something else.”

“Kyle could play his guitar.” Claire gave me a hopeful look. “You said you would.”

“I did.” I stood. “I’ll go get it.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Standing, I noted Claire had a different shiny look in her eyes now. I knew that look. It was one I was definitely down for.

Apparently picking up on the vibe, Missy rolled her eyes. “We’ll wait here. But don’t take too long,” she did air quotes, “getting his . . . guitar.”

“Only as long as it takes to get it,” I said.

Moving to Claire, I slid my arm around her slender waist. My blood pumped hot with anticipation as I escorted her across the space. Finally, the afternoon was going in a direction I wanted.

But just as we were about to enter the back hallway, Bob appeared with my dad’s guitar in his hand. “Here.”

“Thanks, Uncle Bob.” I sighed as I took it. “That’s very thoughtful.”

But terrible timing.

“You’re welcome.” He gave me a hopeful look. “Can you play ‘When Doves Cry’?”

That was a favorite of his. Any song related to birds. No wonder he’d scurried off to grab the guitar.

“How about ‘Blackbird’instead?” I asked.

“No.” He stubbornly shook his head.

“I can’t hit the high notes on that song, bud.” I shifted my gaze, ensnaring someone who could. “But Claire can.”

“No way.” She shook her head.

“Two bird aficionados giving me grief.” Shaking my head at both, I turned my attention to the one who was possibly as stubborn as my uncle. “C’mon, babe. I’m playing. The least you can do is sing with me.”

“Oh, all right.” Caving, she turned, gesturing to the stage. “You go up first. I’ll follow you.”

“You first.” I threw the diamond-patterned guitar strap over my shoulder. “I wanna look at your ass in those tight jeans.”

“Kyle . . .” She glanced at Bob, her cheeks reddened.

“Go.” Remembering her reticence to perform onstage in Lakeside, I told her, “Hit the stairs. Quit stalling. I also wanna make sure you don’t bolt.”

“That was the me I was before you,” she mumbled, walking toward the stairs.

Grinning, I followed. I liked knowing that maybe, just maybe, me being a part of her life wasn’t all bad. Distracted by her sexy ass, I didn’t notice until I stepped onto the stage that Tommy had arrived.

“Hey, man.” He lifted his hand in the air. Heading for the stairs on the other side of the stage, he climbed them and pointed to a drum kit at the back of it. “Mind if I join you?”

“That would be awesome.” Claire beamed. “With three, it’ll be almost like we’re a band.”

Almost was right. Guitarist. Percussionist. Singer. We only lacked a bassist.

“Kyle?” Tommy stopped beside the kit, giving me an expectant glance. “It okay with you?”

“Yeah, man,” I said, having that feeling again like with Addy earlier.

With the addition of Tommy, three ABCR children were on this stage together. Tommy was Barry’s son, Claire was Rachel’s daughter, and I was Collin’s son, of course. The past colliding with the present.

Who would appear next? Did Andy have a child around somewhere who was our age?

Processing deep thoughts, I found a cord and plugged my acoustic into a nearby amp. Claire marched to the center of the stage and switched on the mic attached to a pole. She looked experienced and confident in that position. Moving to the right of her, I flipped on the mic on my side, planning some harmony.

“You ready?” My weight on my back foot, I shifted and glanced at Tommy.

His eyes sparkling, he responded with a wicked little drum fill.

Nice.But I downplayed it. “Showoff.”

Claire glanced at me. “Ready?”

“Always.” I grinned when I saw a shiver roll through her. She was remembering the roof like I wanted her to.

“‘When Doves Cry,’” Claire said into the mic, like this wasn’t fooling around but an actual professional gig.

Her sweet voice amplified made the fine hairs on my forearms stand on end. But I had my shit together. I had an idea how this was going to go. Tommy had done his bit to show off, and now it was my turn.

I shredded the opening chords, and Claire’s jaw dropped as she watched my fingers fly.

Across the space, glass shattered as Addy lost her grip on the beer mug she’d been polishing. I would have thought her reaction was just me and how I kicked ass musically. But I think it was more who had just walked in.

A huge muscular dude with shoulders like a defensive lineman stared at her like she stared at him. His black hair in a club behind his thick neck, he had strong features like his son, and his eyes were the exact same shade.

Obviously, it was Barry, Tommy’s dad.

But I didn’t have time to think about that, or how Barry was looking at Addy and what that might mean. My woman needed me to provide accompaniment on vocals, so I did. What Claire needed, I was determined to provide.

My Claire.

Addicted to rocking her world, I coaxed some electric-guitar-like feedback from the acoustic strings. While I crushed lead guitar, Tommy ruled on drums. Then Claire put her lush lips to the mic.

Singing, she sexed up the lyrics her way. She did the eye thing Prince did, the flowing arm gestures, and his spin moves. Tracing her curves, she also undulated her hips and made the song even more foreplay than it already was.

I grinned. We were great, the three of us in sync. Glittering gazes all around, we let go, letting the music take control. The troubles of the day faded into background noise.

Claire was right, what she’d said all those months ago about music being therapy. There was power in music. Sharing it with people you cared about was like flying without your feet leaving the ground.

Feeling lighter than air, I put my mouth to the mic and met Claire’s gaze, harmonizing with her on the chorus. She was a dazzlingly bright light, rocking it out wearing an Anthem tee and her red duck boots. When the radio version of the song segued into keyboards, Tommy pounded his drums brilliantly.

Claire and I moved together to Tommy’s beat. Not surprisingly, she was an excellent dancer, and it turned me on to see her twerking her ass in front of me. But knowing the end of the song was coming, I shook free from my sensual daze.

I went to her mic, and she joined me. Our eyes on each other, we harmonized for the fade-out, our mouths nearly touching.

I wanted to kiss her so badly. Only knowing her aunt and Barry were watching kept me from doing it, and making our interpretation of the Prince song like his live Tokyo one.

But I wouldn’t have pantomimed masturbating. I would have laid Claire on the stage and buried my cock inside her, making the orgasmic climactic finish of the song a real one.