Put down your pick
and jackhammer, baby,
No blasting stick
Or C4, honey.
I swear
I swear
I swear
There’s nothing you can do
It’s bedrock and you can’t break through
Walk away
Shut my door.
Because you can’t get love from stone
And I’m bound to be alone
Forever.
I make up a few more verses with dynamite and blasting caps and scat the refrain while the guys jam. When we’re done, I’m a frigging emotional wreck.
“Holy shit.” Sam plays back the recording he made. “That was good, sis. Real good.”
I have no idea where all the emotion came from but I’m betting it’s from a hot guy with eyes that bore a hole right through me.
I open the fake book, blow my nose, and pick out a tune where the lyrics don’t hurt so much. “C’mon. Let’s get a few more under our fingers then meet downtown. I need a few minutes of shuteye before the gig.”
Much later, at my apartment, I feel better all dolled up in my new halter dress. The slit in the front dips almost to my navel and the open back shows off the long thin tat down my spine. Spike heels do nice things for my butt and my hair is all blown out, split ends rolling under like they should. Some mascara, blush, and a whole lot of concealer block out the accident’s bruises.
In fact, I look pretty okay as I take a last glance in the mirror.
Knowing Sam will setup for our gig helps me save a few bucks. I’ll take the subway with my monthly metro card. I’ll be paying off the hospital bill for years to come but there’s nothing I can do by fretting. Somehow, I’ll figure it out.
I always do.
As is the norm, the elevator’s out so I take off my shoes and pad down the stairs in my bare feet. When I look up, I sense rather than see the man in the stairwell. I gasp, about to scream until I see who it is.
“Jack? Jeesh. You scared the b’jesus out of me.”
“Don’t try to lose me again. Got it?”
I nod. The guy is fucking scary when he wants to be. I get into the dark SUV and he lets me out in front of the club. “Go straight in. I’ll join you after I park.”
It takes a moment to adjust to the darkness. Then, I find my way to the dressing room and warm up the vocal chords. The first tune is a little rough but by the second, we’re into it and the applause feels good.
After saying hello and thanking everyone for coming out, I head to the bar for a water and my heart stops.
Andy’s sitting there, looking sexy as hell in a black polo shirt, black jeans, and light leather jacket. His eyes drink me in and I smile until I see who is draped over his arm, big boobs poking into him.
Damn it, Dahlyla. Really?
