Darting towards the front door, I pull my keys hard of the hook, causing the hook to come loose from the wall, hitting the floor with a crash.
I don’t turn back at the crash, nor do I stop to check the damage.My truck mere metres away.
I’m on my way, baby.
Forty-one
Mabel
With McCoy’s parking lot filled to the brim with trucks, I descend around the corner towards Iris’s clothing store and park right outside.
I look up towards the lit-up sign and give her a nod through her security camera’s, letting her know it’s me in her parking spot.
I turn back towards the bar, speed walking in the direction of the music booming through the town as I get closer. Turning around the corner, I check the road beforecrossing the street and entering the lot.
I spy Maverick’s truck parked next to Luke’s, with my brothers a few spaces further down.
They’re all here.
Hurling myself towards the entrance, I hear the crowd inside as the door swings open and closed. Jake’s regular spot never disappoints with the crowds, even after that shit show that happened last Saturday, one I don’t want nor need a repeat of tonight. I’m hoping I can slip in and out again without too much attention from everyone else.
Suddenly, the crowd becomes silent, and I hear the typical tapping of the microphone. “How’s everyone doing tonight?” Cole asks through the microphone, but the crowd’s now almost out of the door.
“Before we start, with our very own Jake Bennett,” wolf whistles erupt through the crowd at Jake’s name, and I pull my hood up to disguise my hair; I don’t need the questions and bless your hearts.
I try to squeeze myself further into the building, attempting to locate my group as well as the man who’s asked me here tonight.
“If you could put your hands together, please welcome, once again, Maverick Bennett.” Cole says through the microphone as I freeze in myspot, turning towards the stage, abandoning my original plan.
Light applause echoes through the bar as I watch Maverick walk up onto the stage, shake Cole’s hand and stalks in front of the microphone, guitar in one hand, the other holding onto his chest for dear life.
Silence greets him as the small stage light creeps onto him, showing the beads of sweat falling down his face. I stop, frozen to my spot, hood still placed firmly on my head, hiding away from what’s potentially going to happen.
Maverick leans down onto the stool just in front of the microphone, then places his guitar on his leg.
“Thank you,” he says to those who applauded him, my eyes refusing to leave him.
“So, last weekend should have been the best day, however, due to no faults of no one other than my own, it wasn’t,” He pauses, shifting his stance to get himself more comfortable with his guitar; he’s going tosing.
“The past has horrible ways of biting you in the ass, so if you’ll let me, I want to try and make some of this right again.” He says into the microphone,before adjusting his baseball cap to cover his eyes, hiding away from the audience before him.
I stand, watching him strum the first cord on his guitar as he plays the instrumental toTyler Bradon – Try losing one, and the crowd freezes, listening to the melody. Maverick opens his mouth, eyes never leaving the ground hidden under his hat and the lyrics come out so smoothly, my eyes water up in an instant at the softness his voice is producing.
As he reaches the first chorus of the song, my feet start to move on impulse, listening to the words as if its them that’s guiding them through the still crowd, squeezing myself through to try and get closer to him.
I hold my hood steady, as my eyes never leave him as he bares his soul to the crowd of people Infront of him.
He’s singing this song for me yet has no idea whether I’m in the room or not. He’s still singing it to me, whether I’m here or not.
He’s singing it to the same audience where we broke apart, once again, over the same lie that took him away from me in the beginning.
He’s making his choice, and that choice is me.
Even after all this damage.
I make my way to the front of the stage, almost within touching distance of him as I hear the breath he sucks in, ready to make the almighty finish thatTyler Braydendoes in his songs; it’s powerful and raw, exactly how Maverick Bennett was always supposed to be.
I stand tall, reaching my destination right in front of him. I spot my friends and brother over to the side in our usual space up at the bar, Iris leaning her head on my brother, tears welling up in her eyes at the song. Hope holding her hands to her face, trying not to let her emotions fly at the song. Luke, Colter and Jake stand tall behind the woman who I adore and admire. I turn my neck straight and in line with the man who’s heart I so desperately want to fix.
