Chapter 14
“ H ey.” I take my earphones out and glance up at Harmony, wincing at the bright neon green jumpsuit she has on.
“Whatcha doing?” she asks, dropping down onto the cushion in the window seat beside me.
“Listening to music.” I’m waiting for Peace. I haven’t seen her all morning.
“Can I listen?” Harmony scoots closer, bumping her knee to mine.
“Nah.” I turn down the volume and shake my head.
“Why not?” She narrows her light brown and greenish eyes at me. “You let Peace listen.”
Because I know Peace and trust her with my music, which is a glimpse into my soul.
“Done listening for now,” I lie. “Where’s Peace?”
“Out.” Her eyes get flinty. They often do. Whereas her sister’s eyes are usually soft.
“Out with who?” I want to know.
“Whom,” she corrects me, and I stiffen. I get enough of that kind of shit at school.
“I’ll just call her.” I decide since it seems like Harmony is playing games.
“I wouldn’t.” She covers my hand with hers.
“Why not?” I’m starting to get irritated. Harmony doesn’t have a harmonious effect on me.
“Our dad wouldn’t like it,” she replies.
“Peace won’t tell him.”
“Don’t be so sure about that.” She pops a brow. “She’s a rule follower, always has been, and he told her to stay away from you. So she’ll stay away.”
“We have a workaround.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?” I ask.
“He wasn’t keen on you being in her bedroom.”
“Oh, so this is about last night.” I shrug like it’s no big deal.
“You can come to my room.” She walks her fingers over the back of my hand. “Right now if you want.”
“No, thanks.” I move my hand away.
“What do you see in Peace anyway?” She frowns. “All she likes to do is read. It’s boring.”
“She’s sweet and smart.” Beautiful in a soft way, a way that slips under my armor. Harmony rubs me the wrong way, and the longer I listen to her, the more my unease grows.
“I’m sweet and smart too.” Her lips purse. “And I’m a lot more fun than she is.”
“Yeah, all right. If you say so,” I mutter. Harmony is jealous of Peace. That’s obvious. The twins might be nearly identical physically, but personality wise, they’re total opposites. “I just remembered I have something to do.” Like get away from you. And figure out where the hell Peace is. Why didn’t she give me a heads-up that she wouldn’t be around? Doesn’t she realize the time we have to spend together is almost done?
“Where were you today?” I demand to know when Peace enters the gathering room much later. I’ve been hanging out nearly all day, waiting for her to appear. I don’t know where she’s been or why she hasn’t answered my texts, but I’m pissed off. We’ve lost nearly an entire day we could’ve spent together.
“I went to the library with Dad,” she replies.
“Did you have fun?” I ask.
“It was all right.” Peace drops her gaze. “Sorry, I missed seeing your texts until we were on our way home.”
“Why do you look so bummed?” I narrow my gaze. “I’d think the library would be one of your favorite places.”
“It’s okay.” Not looking at me, she shrugs.
What the hell is going on with her? I don’t like that she isn’t sharing with me. That makes me more pissed, and when I’m pissed, I want to tear shit up. “Let’s go see what our dads are doing.”
“My dad went to his studio.” Peace finally looks at me, but there’s no sparkle in her eyes.
“Then that’s where we’ll go.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “We’re not supposed to. We’ll get into trouble again.”
“I’ll go,” Harmony chimes in. Flipping her long hair over her shoulder, she comes closer. I didn’t notice her, but she must have been eavesdropping from the kitchen.
“Sounds great,” I say, but I don’t really care. It’s Peace that matters. “C’mon,” I cajole, staring at her. “I want to show you what I can do with a guitar.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, we should.” I frown, remembering Harmony’s words from earlier. Sure, I know Peace wants her father’s approval, but I thought she wanted mine more. “C’mon, Harmony.” Not waiting for Peace to say anything, I walk toward the studio with Harmony. I grin when I hear Peace’s footsteps behind us. I knew she’d follow.
Wanting to impress her, wanting to get her attention back on me where it should be, I go straight to my dad’s newest Les Paul. It’s black, shiny, and ought to do the trick.
“Put it back,” Peace says sternly.
“No.” I scowl at her. “You’re not the boss of me, Peace Jinkins.”
“My dad told us never to touch any of the instruments.” Her voice drops in volume.
“Well, your dad isn’t my dad.” I throw the strap over my shoulder, clip it, and bow my head over the instrument. “And this is my dad’s Les Paul.”
“Stop acting like a teacher,” Harmony hisses at her sister. I strum the strings and adjust the tuning. “Nice sound.” Harmony inches closer to me.
“It doesn’t matter who it belongs to. Dad’s going to be mad.” Looking nervous, Peace twists her hands together.
“Following the rules is no fun,” Harmony says, and for once, I agree with her. “It’s not going to win you any points from him if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Are you a teacher’s pet at school?” I ask Peace.
“She’s Miss Matthews’ favorite student,” Harmony replies for Peace and points at me. “Hey, you’re actually pretty good with that.”
“Thanks.” I grin and strum a few more chords, knowing just the tune I’m going to play.
“Where’d you learn to play the guitar?” Harmony asks me.
“Watching my dad.” I rake back a big chunk of my hair that has fallen into my eyes.
“Did he give you permission to play his guitar?” Peace’s brow furrows.
“You use a lot of big, fancy words.” I squint at her, still pissed. I don’t like how she’s acting, and I especially don’t like that my skill on this instrument doesn’t seem to impress her.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Her cheeks are red, her eyes bright. I get the idea she might be pissed too.
“What question was that?” I pretend I don’t understand, my gaze hard.
She cranks up her chin. “Did your dad say it was okay for you to play his guitar?”
“No.” I shake my head. “But he’s not gonna know I did shit. Unless you blab.”
“Peace won’t tell. She can keep a secret.” Surprisingly, Harmony defends her sister. She bumps Peace’s shoulder. “Right?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Peace whispers, then jumps when her dad hits a high note inside the studio. We all glance in that direction as War’s voice rises above the complex guitar chords that my father is laying down with a double cutaway. Adding the snaky groove of Sager’s bass, the steady churn of Dizzy’s acoustic, and the foot-tapping beat of King’s drumming, and anyone listening would conclude that Tempest’s new song is really good. I highly doubt Avery and Brutal Strength can come up with anything better.
“Yes or no?” I shift so that I’m standing in front of Peace, and she can’t ignore me. “Are you with me or not?”
“I just don’t want you to get into trouble, Bo.” With a plea in her gaze, her eyes lock on mine.
“So what if I do?” Fuck doing what we’re supposed to. What will that get us but a steady diet of disapproval. Doesn’t she see that it needs to be us, her and me versus everyone else?
She glances at her sister as if she needs Harmony’s help rather than mine.
My gut tightens, then tightens some more when my dad yells, “Robert Garrett Jackson!”
“Oh, no.” Peace lets out a nervous squeak.
Being angry, I didn’t notice that the music had stopped. But Harmony noticed and flees. Peace steps in front of me as my dad stomps toward me, but I brush her gently aside.
“This is on me,” I tell her.
“Is that my guitar?” my dad asks, his gaze blazing.
“Yes, sir.” I jerk up my chin.
His eyes narrow. “I don’t recall giving you permission to pick it up.”
“I wasn’t picking it up,” I say, laying on the sarcasm. “I was playing it.”
“Robert.” Dad sighs and shakes his head. “Son, this isn’t a time to piss me off. This is the point where you’re supposed to say you’re sorry.”
When he says son like that, he means he wishes I’d never been born.
“I’m not sorry.” I give him shit, but my shoulders drop under the weight of his disapproval.
“I asked him to play your guitar.” Peace steps closer to me. “Actually, I insisted he play it. I…” She trails off, her eyes widening as her father appears. He’s out in front, the obvious leader; the other members of Tempest fall into place around him.
I start to speak, but she beats me to it.
“In fact, I dared Bo to do it,” Peace lies. “He told me no. He said he’d get in trouble.” I stare at her and try not to show how impressed I am with her as she continues to come up with bullshit to keep me out of trouble. “I took the guitar off the stand and gave it to him. It was me. It’s all my fault.”
“Why, Peace?” War believes her and scowls at me. Yeah, I’m not his favorite person, but I don’t care. I’m back to being hers. “You know the rules.”
Don’t touch his things. Don’t go into the studio. Peace knows. She told us.
“I don’t like the rules,” she says, and my lips twitch. This is probably the biggest lie of all. She’s a rule follower like Harmony said, but not if it means I’ll get into trouble.
“That’s not an excuse, Peace,” War snaps, and she flinches.
“I don’t have an excuse.” As some of her courage drains from her, she hangs her head and murmurs, “I just wanted to hear Bo play. He’s really good. If you listened to him, I’m sure you’d see how?—”
“I think you both know better.” Dad is looking at me. He means I should know better, but most of all, he wishes I were someone else’s problem. “Go to your room.”
“But, Dad,” I protest and plant my feet. No way am I letting Peace take the blame. “Peace isn’t?—”
“No more excuses,” my dad cuts me off. “You did what you did. Accept the consequences. One being that you’ll stay in your room and out of trouble until we leave in the morning.”
“Yeah, okay.” I unclip the shoulder strap and hand over his Les Paul. “See you, Peace.” I make eye contact with her.
“Bye, Bo.” She gives me a subtle nod. She knows this isn’t it. I’ll find a way. We’ll talk. We must since I’m leaving in the morning.