No Inhibitions (The Sinful 3)

Without another word, and with everyone else still mute, he forced himself to stand up, withdrew his wallet and tossed down a handful of bills on the table that would more than cover their bill, then headed out to the car, taking his humiliation with him.

Chapter 14

Tempest was in such a state of shock that it took her a few moments after Remy left the table to gather up her things and follow him out. She put the photo she’d given him for his birthday into her purse and started scooting out of the booth, her only thought to get to the man she knew was dealing with so much inner turmoil and pain.

As soon as she stood, she saw Kyle glance at his mother, looking utterly bewildered by the scene that had just transpired between Crystal and Remy.

“Mom, what’s going on?” he asked again, this time his voice demanding an answer.

Crystal’s hand fluttered nervously to the necklace at her throat, her fingers fiddling with the diamond pendant. “It’s nothing, Kyle,” she replied in a dismissive tone.

Tempest had every intention of pushing past the two of them and ignoring whatever conversation they intended to have

in favor of getting to Remy, but Crystal’s cold response—and the way she was sweeping this entire issue under the rug as if it was a pile of dirt she didn’t want to deal with—enraged Tempest beyond anything she’d ever felt before.

“It’s nothing?” Tempest repeated incredulously, startling the other woman with her heated, angry tone that drew stares from guests at nearby tables, though she didn’t give a damn. “How can you call your firstborn son nothing?”

Kyle’s jaw dropped at that revelation, his expression stunned.

“This is none of your concern,” Crystal hissed in a low voice, her face flushed with embarrassment at being called out in a room full of affluent people. “You don’t know anything about the situation.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Tempest took the two steps that separated her from Crystal and got right up in the other woman’s face, unleashing all the fury she felt on Remy’s behalf in a nonstop tirade. “I know everything about the situation. I know you relinquished all your parental rights to Remy to marry some rich guy and never looked back, and when Remy was orphaned at fourteen after losing his father and needed someone to care for him, you refused to take him in, which meant he spent four years getting shuffled through the foster care system, all because you are a selfish, despicable woman who only cares about herself. You, Crystal Lowell, are rotten to the core.”

Crystal’s green eyes had grown wide with every word Tempest threw her way. “How dare you!” she snapped indignantly, lashing out more out of self-preservation in the face of being publicly shamed than anything else. “You know nothing about me or my life.”

“I know enough,” Tempest said bitterly, a part of her feeling sorry for Kyle having to find out that he had a half brother this way, but it wasn’t her problem, or even Remy’s. “You abandoned your firstborn son for a life of luxury. You rejected the best man I’ve ever known, but you know what? As hard as his life might have been, he was clearly better off without you in it.”

With nothing left to say, Tempest brushed past the furious woman and picked up her stride to get to Remy as soon as possible.

“Jesus Christ, Mother,” Tempest heard Kyle say behind her as she kept heading for the front door. “What the hell is going on?”

Tempest refused to stick around a second longer to hear the pathetic excuses Crystal would undoubtedly come up with. There was no viable explanation to smooth over what she’d put Remy through as a child, and certainly no plausible answer or reason for abandoning a kid.

As soon as she stepped outside, she found Remy sitting in his car at the curb in the valet section, waiting for her. She slid into the passenger seat and buckled up and immediately felt the tension radiating from him. He didn’t look at her, didn’t say a word, just put the car into drive and merged out onto the street, his jaw clenched hard and his hands wrapped around the steering wheel in a tight grip.

The pain in her heart for this man was so great it hurt for her to breathe. “Remy, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t,” he bit out, stopping her before she could console or calm him.

The one word was harsh, but Tempest could only imagine the depth of hurt and rejection he was dealing with. How raw his own emotions had to be after that painful encounter with a woman he hadn’t seen or spoken to in over twenty-five years. A woman who’d looked right through him and all but denied his existence. It didn’t matter if Remy was seven or thirty-four, being ignored and spurned by your own mother was a hard, emotional blow.

The drive back to her apartment was intensely quiet, and as much as Tempest respected and understood Remy’s need to process everything that had just happened in his own way, with each minute that passed in silence, she could feel him stewing on all the insecurities his mother’s rejection had instilled in him—which his ex-wife had reinforced. Could see him withdrawing into himself and shutting her out, and Tempest’s biggest fear was that he wouldn’t let her back in.

By the time he drove into the underground parking structure and brought the car to a stop in front of the private elevator that she and her brothers used to get to their apartments, Tempest knew he’d retreated entirely.

She swallowed hard and put her hand on his arm. “Remy, come upstairs with me so we can talk about this.”

He finally glanced at her, and the look in his eyes was empty and devoid of any emotion. As if he was hardening his heart all over again when she’d just started to find her way into it. “There is nothing to talk about, and I prefer to be alone.”

There was such finality to his words, even without him saying outright that they were through, but Tempest wasn’t one to just walk away when things got tough or obstacles were put her path. Not when it came to something she wanted, and in this case, for the first time in her life, what she wanted, what she needed, was the man she’d fallen in love with. Without a shadow of a doubt, she knew that Remy, despite all those inner demons he was battling, was worth fighting for.

“I know you’re not used to counting on anyone or sharing your pain and grief, but you’re pushing me away when you need me the most,” she said, hating the desperate tone of her voice and the tears that burned at the back of her throat. “That’s not what couples who care for one another do, Remy. They lean on each other. They share their fears and insecurities, knowing that the other person will be there for them. I will always be here for you.”

“You can’t know that,” he said, his tone flat.

She knew he’d never had that kind of loyalty in his life, someone steadfast and true that he could always depend on no matter what, and in a moment of clarity, it dawned on her that he was attempting to let her go before she walked away from him, which, in his experience with women, was all he knew. Deep inside, he was still that little boy who feared being rejected by someone he loved. She already knew him that well.

She unbuckled her seat belt and turned toward him, prepared to fight for the happiness they’d created together over the past two months. The soul-deep intimacy. The fundamental connection that she’d never had with another person other than her brothers.