Chayton's Tempest (10 page)

Maverick sat in his hotel room waiting for his pizza to

arrive. He’d gone to the base and worked out for a while before

coming back and centering his focus so he could have a

fighting chance. His parents had called him ten times and he’d

ignored them each and every occasion.

He was stretched out on his bed and the image of

Tempest’s face played before his mind. The look of pain and

abandonment that filled its dark beauty every time she looked

at him killed him. Then he considered how much pride it had

when she looked at her son. Correction,
their
son. Rolling over

onto his belly, he groaned, “I don’t know how to make this

right.”

A knock at his door momentarily snapped him out of his

self-pity. Grabbing money from his wallet, he opened the door

and froze. Standing before him wasn’t the pizza delivery

person. It was someone whom he’d hoped he’d get to know.

Maverick stood there staring into mirror images of his

own dark eyes. On the other side of the door was his son.

Finally face to face with him, Maverick was speechless.

“Are you just going to stare at me or invite me in?” the

young man asked.

Silent, Maverick swung the door open wider in

invitation. His son flowed past him, dressed in a nice suit; and

once he was in the middle of the room, he spun around and put

his eyes on an older version of himself.

“Please, sit down,” Maverick offered as he gestured to a

chair.

The man shook his head, sending his longer hair flying

about his face. “No, I can’t stay. I got your address from where

you shoved it in the door. I just wanted to ask you to your face

if what you told my mom today was true or not.”

 
“It was. I never knew about you. And if I had I would’ve

been there.” Maverick sat down in another chair and placed his

elbows on his thighs. “Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“What is your name?”

“My name is Dakota, Dakota Falcon
Burnell
. And you?

What’s yours?”

Maverick felt the sting of tears in his eyes. Blinking them

back, he smiled as he said, “James
Chayton
Lonetree
.”
I can’t

believe she named him after me.
“I know this has to be hard for

you, I can’t imagine what your mother told you about me.”

“Don’t talk bad about my mother.” A sliver of warning

filled his tone.

“I’m sorry; I don’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m not

talking bad about her. I just don’t know what she has told you

about me.” Maverick watched the struggle of a young man

who desperately wanted to know his father and one who felt

betrayed by him.

“All she said was that you never came. She didn’t

slander you, at least not to my face. Do you know what it was

like for her?” he questioned.

“I don’t have any idea,” Maverick admitted.

Fists clenching, Dakota took a step forward before

stopping and visually relaxing his body. “Why did you come

down here?”

“I was told to come here in a vision,” he told his son as

he prepared himself for the scoff of disbelief.

Dakota narrowed his eyes but nodded, he knew about

vision quests. It was a part of his heritage. “Okay. And what

are you going to do now? You’re upsetting my mom by being

here.”

“I’m going to do my damnedest to make up for what

I’ve done to the both of you in the past.” Maverick stood as

there was a knock at the door. He opened it to find the pizza

guy. Taking the food; he paid for it and closed the door behind

him. “Are you sure you don’t want some?”

 
“Nope. I have a date.” The first smile Maverick had seen

out of Dakota crossed his face, making his eyes sparkle like

black diamonds.

“You have your mother’s smile,” Maverick blurted out

before he could stop himself. As the smile faded, Maverick

insisted. “I mean it. Your mom had that smile when I knew her

back in the town we grew up in. It didn’t appear on her face

often; but when it did, it was like the sun bursting through the

clouds.”

“Did you love her? Is that why you slept with her?”

Dakota asked.

“I don’t know if it was love, but I had strong feelings for

her,” Maverick answered honestly.

“She loved you. I remember her telling me how much in

love with you she was. How up until I was born, she would

imagine that you would come looking for her; you would

sweep her up and take her away to somewhere safe. The way

she talked about you it was like you were a knight in shinning

armor. But when you didn’t come, she felt deserted.” Dakota

straightened the sleeve on his suit.

“I overheard her and Bertha talking one day when I was

a teen about how horrible the birth had been. How she almost

died and wouldn’t be able to have any more children. But she

never held it against me. My mom loved me from the very

beginning. I don’t want her to feel like that again.”

Maverick easily read between the lines. “I don’t want to

hurt her, or you. I hope you can believe that.”
I can’t believe she

had such a hard time of giving birth, and to know she can’t have any

more children and the one she had wasn’t under preferable

circumstances. What did I do to you, Tempest?

“Time will tell,” Dakota said emotionlessly. “I have to

go.”

“Thank you, for coming to see me. I want to get to know

you; can we go out for dinner or something like that?”

Maverick stood, wrote something on a piece of paper, and

walked to the door. “Call me if you make a decision; it’s my

cell and I have it on 24/7.”

“We’ll see.” At the door, Dakota turned to the man

beside him. “Well, um, well, goodbye.” Finally he just reached

out his hand to Maverick.

“Goodbye, Dakota. Come back anytime.” Maverick

wanted to hug his son, but would graciously settle for a

handshake.

Sure strides carried the young man down the hall

without a backward glance and out of sight. Maverick closed

the door once he could no longer see his son. This time when

he was alone in the room, he allowed the tears to fall.

He cried for the twenty-one years that had been stolen

from him and his family. He cried over what he put Tempest

through and he cried because he was making progress in

getting to know his child.

Around seven-thirty that night, Maverick showered and

dressed to go to the bar. He had to find a way to get through

the protective barrier Tempest had around her. Not just her

heart, but every inch of her was protected.

Luckily for him, motorcycles were easier to park than

other vehicles. If he’d believed the place was busy last night,

then tonight was off the charts. As he opened the door and

stepped inside, his observant gaze took in all the men and

women having a great time.

Moving through the throng of people, Maverick sidled

up to the bar. He noticed the women around him watched him

with open curiosity and plenty invitations. In the past, he

might have flirted with any or all of them, for that was the kind

of man he’d been. But now, all he wanted was the rich,

dappled-brown eyes of Tempest on him. And that woman was

serving some guys near him.

The man closest to Maverick was talking to her. He

narrowed his eyes but held his peace. He’d wanted her before

he’d even known who she was; and now that he knew she was

the mother of his child…well, that made him even more

possessive.

“I’m just saying, babe, that a wet T-shirt contest would

bring in a bunch of customers. Especially if
you
were in it,” the

man said.

Maverick didn’t like the direction this was going. He

took in her attire. She wore a pair of snug-fitting leather pants

that hung around her full hips and a fuchsia tee that showed

off a bit of her belly; not much, but enough to attract attention

to the smooth walnut-colored skin. Her hair fell around her

face, framing it gently.

Tempest shook her head. “No, thanks. I don’t want to

have that. And I definitely wouldn’t be competing.”

The man licked his lips and leered. “How’s about you

put on a private show for me and my boys here?” He reached

across the bar to grab her wrist.

Maverick growled low in his throat. Tempest was his.

Astonished at that revelation, he hesitated for a moment.
When

did she become mine?

There was no time for him to dwell on that, for the

uncouth man holding her refused to let her go when she

tugged. Maverick stood and intervened. His eyes were alive

with black flames.

Stepping between two of the friends, Maverick reached

out and gripped the third man’s wrist, applying enough

pressure to get him to let go of Tempest. “It’s not polite to grab

women,” he warned in a lethal voice.

“Let go of me, man!” the man snapped. “This has

nothing to do with you!”

Tempest stood there and watched Maverick come to her

rescue. She’d known the second he’d sat down at the bar, but

the men she’d been serving had been taking up her attention.

Now he was the one to save her from that clammy touch.

“I think you need to apologize to her,” Maverick

continued as if the man hadn’t said a thing.

 
“I’m not apologizing to her. I was just joking.” The man

tugged harder again, but to no avail. He wasn’t getting free.

Tightening his grip on the wrist, Maverick suggested in

a low voice, “
I
think you need to apologize to the lady.”

“Ouch, you are hurting me. She’s just a bartender. What

the hell do you care, man?” The question came as tears filled

that man’s eyes.

His two friends did nothing to help him, obviously not

wishing to tackle the large man who had intervened on the

bartender’s behalf. The bar had begun to fall silent as everyone

watched bouncers approach the tall Native American who had

interceded on Tempest’s behalf. Maverick pulled the man up,

dropping his wrist and holding onto his shoulder.

“That
bartender
is the mother of my child.” The words

were delivered crystal clear and just about everyone heard him,

especially the staff. “Now apologize.” It was a command.

The man did just that. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to

offend you,” he blurted out.

Maverick cut his eyes over to Tempest who nodded

slightly at the man. Then he released his grip on him and

allowed him to drop heavily back to his seat. The man rubbed

his shoulder and glared at Maverick. The bouncers tapped the

men on the shoulders and escorted all three of them out.

“Come here,” Maverick ordered Tempest.