Breaking Her Bad by Michelle Mankin

 

 

 

 

 

Kyle

“You don’t have to do it.” Claire glanced at me, swinging her legs. “No matter what Addy says.”

“I want to do it.”

It was late. Sitting beside her on the edge of the stage, I knew I needed to go, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to expand time so we could have more of it to share alone, just the two of us.

“It’s a big-time commitment.” She tilted her head. “And you have a job that takes a lot of that already.”

“That’s true.” I tucked a long strand of her silky hair behind her ear, my fingers grazing the sensitive skin around the shell. “But there’s no way I’m going to turn down an opportunity like this.”

Addy was right. Everything she said. Only, it wasn’t just a chance for me, my uncle, or even just Claire. It was our chance together as a couple.

“Okay. I’m glad. I love making music with you. Love other things.” Her eyes darkening, she shivered. “Like making . . . having sex with you.”

It was more than sex. Everything with the addition of Claire was more.

“I love all those things too. I love being here with you.” I gestured to the bar.

It was packed, nearly at capacity now. Missy and Chad were together at one of the pub tables. After Tommy and his dad left, Claire and I had messed around with a few more songs. Missy had offered advice, but Chad had mostly watched Missy.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get any alone time together,” I said, and she sighed.

“I’m sorry too.”

“This band stuff is awesome.” That had to be said. “If your aunt is right, if we can make a go of it, it could change everything.”

I knew RCA had given Tempest three hundred grand to sign with their label. I might be able to extract myself from Martin with that much money. If I gave him my third of it.

“It’s something we can work on,” I said firmly, “and believe in together.”

Claire nodded excitedly. “A shared dream.”

“Definitely,” I said, though I was way the hell beyond the bounds of what I knew. “You and me, Claire. I don’t have all the answers. I don’t have any experience with what we’re doing. I’ve never had a dream before. It’s always been just me and Bob, and us getting by the best we could.”

“I’ve never had a dream either.” She bit down on her lip. “Just my mom’s plan for me. But now there’s you. Us.” Her gaze glistened like autumn leaves kissed by sunlit dew.

“Us.” Taking her hand, I squeezed it. “That’s a priority. And our friends. Then the music and the band.” I didn’t want us to fall into the same trap our parents had.

“Establishing priorities is important,” she said softly.

I reached out to touch her cheek. “You’re important to me.”

“And you to me.” Her gaze shone brighter.

My fingers flexed tighter around hers. “Watching you at center mic . . . you’re amazing, sexy as hell, and being in sync with you turns me way the hell on.”

“It turns me on too.” She licked her full lips. “Watching your fingers on the strings makes me think about how good they feel on me.”

My eyes blazed. “So tomorrow, we make time for just us first, then the band. Yeah?”

She nodded. “But what about at school? Can we meet on the rooftop again?”

“I want to, but you have class.” When she tried to protest, I rushed to explain. “I don’t want your grades to tank, and you to get into more trouble with your mom on my account.”

“So, not during class.” Claire’s brow creased. “How about at lunch? We have it the same hour.”

“We do, but if I can’t move product in the morning, I have to move it at lunch.” As much as I wanted to ignore that I had a leash, I could only move so far before it snapped me back, reminding me it was still there.

“Oh.” Her chin dropped.

“Hey.” I let her hand go and wedged my finger under her chin. Lifting her head, I searched her eyes. “I know it’s difficult to be together, and it really sucks that we have to keep us a secret. But this at Addy’s . . .” I gestured again. “It’s nice, and the band stuff is a good cover.”

“Do you think we can really get somewhere together? As a band, I mean?” she asked.

“Our parents almost did.”

“Almost, but not quite.” She worried her plump bottom lip again with her teeth. “Did you know who I was . . . who my mom was when we met back in Lakeside?”

“Nope. I had no idea. My dad never talked about his ABCR days. It all took place before I was born. I guess he wanted to forget it. I didn’t know about Addy and my dad until Bob interviewed for the job at Footit’s. And I didn’t know about Barry being the drummer in ABCR until Tommy told me.”

Armed with all that new information, I found myself reexamining everything I thought I knew about my parents. With only caring between them and my dad’s addiction, they’d started their marriage on shaky ground. Maybe worse than shaky if my dad had remained hung up on Addy.

“All I knew when I met you,” I said softly, “was that you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t resist you then, and I certainly can’t now.”

Claire’s eyes filled with tears. “Yet you have to go.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “It’s work. I hate it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, but her expression didn’t agree. “I wish you could call me. That I could call you.” Her lips trembled. “This is more difficult than I expected. I don’t say that to be clingy. I know we can’t be together all the time. I just love spending time with you.”

“Listen.” I framed her lovely face. “I’ll come to Addy’s earlier tomorrow. We’ll go in the back, just me and you. There’s a lock on the door.” I raised a brow.

Her eyes darkened promisingly. “That sounds like a plan.”

“Good.”

I slid my fingers into her hair. Getting the angle I wanted, I lowered my head and kissed her. My intention was a lip touch. But as soon as my mouth met hers, it went serious.

For her too. She untucked my shirt and ran her hands up my back, directly on my skin. Mine were inside the back of her jeans when someone cleared their throat.

I broke the kiss and growled, “What?” as I turned my head.

“You’re sitting on a stage.” Missy hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “People are watching.”

“Oops,” Claire said, but she smiled.

I didn’t think she cared. I certainly didn’t, though I probably should.

“Time to go.” Unable to stop myself, I kissed Claire once more. I had to taste that smile. It was like sugar and sunshine.

“See you tomorrow,” I told her. “Early.”

• • •

 

Claire

Missy caught my eye after Kyle left. “You two need to take that heavy PDA to a room,”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded absently, still dazed after Kyle’s kisses. “That’s our plan tomorrow.”

“Good. But now’s now.” She beckoned from her spot below me. “Time to come off that stage, rock ’n’ roll girl.”

“Right.” I stood.

“Fucking hell, Claire.” She shook her head at me, following me with her gaze as I crossed the stage. “You don’t just sing, girl. You sing. Or should I call you rock ’n’ roll queen?”

“Claire will be fine,” I said in a teasing tone, descending the stairs. “Or Kyle’s woman. Or Missy’s bestie.”

“I hear ya.” Her eyes twinkling, she shook her head in disbelief. “You are ah-mazing onstage. “

“Thank you.”

As I stopped in front of her, she tapped her chin, studying me. “Only thing missing is proper rocker-chick gear.”

And that we lacked a bassist. But I had an idea on that.

Missy threw out her hand, then flipped it around to point at herself. “Lucky for you, I know just the chick to help you with your onstage look.”

“Would you?” I asked.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” She nodded. “Wanna brainstorm and grab something to eat before I take you home?”

“That’d be great, but where were you thinking?” I asked. The days of me going to the Stop on a whim were over. I had limited funds.

“Tommy texted that we should come over to his restaurant. Said the food’s on him.”

“Awesome.” I let out a relieved sigh. “I can do that.”

“Great. Me too.” Her lips curved. “Free is my favorite type of meal.”

After grabbing our gear and waving to Addy, who was helping Bob clear tables, we left.

Outside in the parking lot, I asked Missy, “Where’s Chad?”

“His dad called while you and Kyle were talking.” She pulled out her keys and twirled them. “He had to go home.”

“Is his home a good place for him?” I was curious. Not just about Chad, but how well Missy knew him.

“His parents are divorced. His mom sucks, and his stepbrother too. Majorly. But his dad is good people.”

Missy knew Chad well. I liked that Chad at least had a good dad.

“So, what’s the situation with you and him?” I asked, and she scrunched her nose.

“There’s no situation.”

I gave her a pointed look. “There is so one.”

“He’s cute as hell. Funny.” She unlocked my door and went to hers. “But we’re just friends. I thought I made that clear.”

“The two of you together don’t look like just friends.” Climbing in, I buckled my seat belt and watched her do the same. “Why don’t you want to be more? He definitely does.”

“Because I’d lose a friend when it went wrong.” She inserted the key and cranked it, and the engine sputtered to life. Loudly. She gave me a look. “I don’t have so many friends that I’m willing to risk losing one.”

“It might be worth the risk.”

“Not in my case. Trust me.”

She backed the car out, and we both fell silent as she drove. I stared out the window, not really focusing on the view. It wasn’t much of one with all the closed shops and guys patrolling the sidewalks wearing gang colors.

My mind wandering, I sifted through the details of what I’d learned about Addy and my mom.

It was weird how Addy had been serious about Kyle’s dad, and now here we were, me and Kyle. But was it really all that strange? I imagined Addy and Collin had common interests like Kyle and I did. Their shared love of music was a definite one. Also, it seemed they’d had a common friend group.

I wondered if I asked my mom about ABCR, would she talk to me about it? How much would she share? That time in her life seemed like a closed door, a locked and closed door. I worried how she would react knowing I was in a band.

“You wanna come out of your thought coma so we can go inside?” Missy asked, refocusing me.

Realizing the car was parked, I glanced around, surprised. “We’re here.”

“Yeah, dingus.” She rolled her eyes. “At Tommy’s restaurant. Well, his dad’s.”

“Awesome.”

I unfastened my seat belt, and we both got out, pushing in the locks before we slammed our doors. No power locks for the old Oldsmobile. Missy rounded the hood to join me on the sidewalk.

Pho B was a small glass-fronted restaurant that appeared to be the only open business on the block. I pulled open the glass door with the name etched on it, and Missy stepped through while I held it for her. Letting it go, I followed her inside. The interior was a soft green. Black-and-white photographs of temples hung from the walls. The aroma of garlic and onions made my empty stomach grumble.

“Hey.” Tommy waved at us from behind the counter. “Sit wherever you like.”

“Thanks,” Missy said.

“Be with you in a second.” Tommy held up a finger. He had a phone to his ear. “Just let me finish taking this order.”

We glanced around. There were about a dozen tables, but we chose one of the booths closest to him. Sitting, I could see Barry cooking through a pass-through window behind Tommy.

“Hey, long time no see.” Tommy strolled to our table, grinning at his own joke. “Wanna train first or eat first?”

“Eat. I’m starving.” Missy ran her gaze over him, “It looks . . . and smells delicious.”

“Got it.” Tommy kept his voice even, not reacting to Missy’s flirty tone. “What’ll it be?”

For some reason, even though Missy was gorgeous, he wasn’t interested. Was it because of Chad?

I shrugged. “Whatever the chef feels like making.” With the food being free, I didn’t think it would be right to be picky.

“Yeah, that.” Missy nodded. “For me too.”

“Pop will like that.” Tommy tucked his order pad in the front pocket of his black apron.

“Is your dad the only chef?” I asked.

“Yup,” Tommy said with a slight drawl. “Can’t afford any more staff just yet.”

I cocked my head. “How’d he learn about Vietnamese cooking?”

“From my mom.” Tommy narrowed his eyes, probably wondering why I asked so many questions. “He didn’t just meet her in Vietnam. She’s Vietnamese.”

“Ah, right.” I pointed to my temple. “Learned a lot of info today. Still processing. I’m sorry your parents got divorced.”

“It is what it is, and it all went down a long while ago.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “The karma from everything’s on her anyway, not him.”

“Tommy!” Barry bellowed.

“Oops. I’d better go see what he wants.” Tommy turned toward the kitchen, holding up his pad. “I’ll put in your order and be right back.”

He left in a hurry, the strings on his long work apron swaying over his ass. I noted it was a great one, but not nearly as great as Kyle’s.

Missy sighed, watching him. “His ass is nearly as good as Kyle’s.”

I laughed. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

When Tommy returned, he grinned at us. “Ladies.”

I blushed. Missy dropped her gaze to the tabletop, her lips twitching. His dad stepped forward to join him.

“Hey again,” Barry said warmly, his dark brown eyes piercing like his son’s.

“I don’t think we had formal introductions.” I pointed to myself. “I’m Claire Walsh. This is my best friend, Missy Rivera.”

“Barry Evans.” He grabbed Tommy, locking him in a playful headlock to bring him close. “And this is my son, Tommy Evans.”

“Right.” I smiled. “Thanks for cooking for us.”

“My pleasure, darlin’.” Barry studied me for a beat. “You look like Addy, but more like your mom. Your eyes are your dad’s.”

“Did you know my dad?” I asked, sitting up straighter.

“Yeah.” Barry nodded. “He was a good guy. I’m sorry for your loss.”

I teared up, and Missy reached across the table. Grabbing my hand, she squeezed it.

“Sorry.” I sniffed back my emotion. “It still hits me hard.”

“I’ll bet it does.” Barry’s gaze was sympathetic as he took in Missy and me. “Addy and Rach used to be close like you two. Or they were, before Skellin and his sister came along and got between them.”

“Martin Skellin?” I sat up straighter, thinking I had to have heard wrong.

“Yeah, Martin.” Barry scowled. “That rich, entitled, piece-of-shit prick.”

Whoa.My eyes widened.

Barry’s big hands formed impressive-sized fists. “Asshole glommed onto ABCR when they started taking off, and zeroed in on Addy. Wanted her. Did whatever the fuck it took to get her, even though he busted up a shit-ton of lives.” He refocused. “Sorry. I don’t like the dude, and I hear he’s just as big an asshole now.”

“He is,” I said.

Seeming to sense my tension, Barry changed the subject. “Enough about that asshole.” He glanced at each of us, one by one. “So, you guys started a band tonight?”

I guessed we did. So, I nodded.

“What are you gonna call yourselves?” he asked.

Tommy shrugged. “I dunno.”

His father grinned. “Might want to figure that shit out before you go onstage.”