The Mighty Storm (The Storm, #1)



I’ve been mulling over what Simone said for hours.

She’s right, and I know it. I should tell Jake that I believe him over the girl, and what my real fears are about being with him.

But I can’t.

Because if I do he’ll talk me back into his life, and right now that just isn’t what I want.

Well, I think it isn’t.

I’m standing backstage at Madison Square Garden with Simone. The support band is playing. They’re pretty good. Really good in fact.

They’re a local band who won a competition through a radio station to support TMS here at their show in New York.

It was Jake’s idea to put the contest out. No one knows that, except for me and Stuart. Jake credited it as the bands idea.

He has such a good heart. I wish he would show it to more people than just me.

Ben drove Simone and I here from the hotel. I’ve got my luggage in the car. Ben is going to take me straight to the airport after the show. All I have to do is let him know when I’m ready to leave. Simone is staying on in New York to spend a few days with Denny.

I haven’t seen or spoken to Jake since this morning, which is a good thing. I think.

I don’t know.

I don’t know anything anymore.

Spotting us, Denny comes over, eyes firmly pinned on Simone. I’m so happy they found each other. One good thing to come out of me and Jake, I guess.

I drift off to the side giving them some space. I hate being the third wheel at the best of times. At the worst of times, even more so.

Just knowing Jake is around here somewhere is driving me nuts. I’m on constant high-alert for any sign of him.

So far, nothing yet. I’m wondering if he’s avoiding me after our fight this morning.

I’m wearing the pink dress and ridiculously pretty blue heels that Simone forced me to buy earlier, and I’m already regretting the shoes, my feet are bloody killing me. Why don’t I ever learn that pretty does not equal comfy.

I prop my butt up against the wall and bend over, slipping my foot out of the shoe, I rub my sore instep with my hand.

When I glance up I see a pair of black Converses approaching me.

Eyes up to the black jeans, reaching the sleeveless, vintage ’94 Nine Inch Nails ‘Downwards Spiral’ T-shirt, with a guitar strapped pressed tight across it, the instantly recognisable tattoos on full show, to finally meet with Jake’s face.

He looks amazing. Beautiful. Just like the rock star he is. And was always meant to be.

I slip my foot back into my shoe. Nerves instantly encompass me, encapsulating me.

“You should learn to wear sensible shoes.” He nods down at my feet.

“I should.”

“Then again, if you did, I’d have never have got to carry you into the hotel that night.” His tone is low, intimate, and his eyes meet mine intensely.

Nerve endings fire sparks out into my body, causing an intense rush of want and need for him.

Looking down, I break our stare.

“So … uh … Denny said you’re leaving straight after the show.” He takes another step closer to me.

We’re only a foot apart now. I want to reach out and touch him more than anything. But I can’t.

“Yes.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Sorry I can’t make the after show party. I have to get back home – work you know – and my flights booked so…”

“Sure, yeah, of course, I understand.” He pushes his hand through this hair.

I meet his eyes, and I can see the blatant disharmony in them.

“So will I see you after the show? Before you leave,” he asks.

“Yes.”

That’s a lie. I won’t be here when he comes off stage. I’m going to leave during the encore. Everyone’s at their highest at that point, so I’ll be able to slip away without being noticed.

I said goodbye to Jake once. Twice is just too much.

“Okay, so I’ll see you after the show then,” he smiles, his mood seemingly picking up.

“Yeah … looks like you’re up.” I nod in the direction of the roadie who is waiting to hook his guitar up.

Jake gives me a rueful smile. It almost breaks me on the spot.

Reluctantly, he turns to go.

“Jake?”

Stopping, he turns back, slipping his guitar around to the front.

“Have a great show,” I smile.

“I will … and Tru.” He takes a step forward, back to me. “You look beautiful in those shoes … and that dress, but then you look beautiful in anything.”

Then he’s gone, readying himself to perform to his adoring New York fans, unknowingly taking my heart with him.





Chapter Thirty





Jake is performing better than his last few shows, maybe that’s because I’m here, or maybe it’s because New York was his home for a time. I’m not sure. But because he’s better, the guys are better and the band as a whole is on fire, and the crowd sure are feeling it.

I’m happy for him, for all of them that this tour is going out on a high, and I’m so glad I’m here to see it.

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