“Mmmhmm,” I respond, pressing my front against his. “Maybe more of that short skirt, no underpants things.”
“I’m listening.”
Going up on my toes I breathe against his ear, “Definitely the no birth control.”
His head tilts, his cheek presses against mine. He slides his down, squeezes my ass, pulls me against him. “You don’t say?”
“What do you say,babe?”
“You know what I always say when it comes to you,” he responds, that devilish twinkle back in his eyes. He leans forward, brushes his nose up my neck to my ear where he whispers, “I got you,babe…”
47
AN INEVITABLE ENCORE
DECLAN
“You sure you wanna do this?”
Ren has already asked me this question at least a dozen times since I first mentioned my amazing idea at the beginning of this concert. He’s staring at me, his expression that of a friend long used to humoring his sometimes-impulsive brother.
Smiling broadly, I nod, slapping him on the back. The curtain opens, I motion for him to go first which he does, though outwardly begrudgingly. I follow close behind, chuckling to myself as the roar of the crowd immediately dies off once they recognize that I’m not alone on stage.
Ren stopped a few feet away from the curtain, so I give him a nudge, maneuvering him close to the edge where my mic is still in the stand. The crowd is picking back up in enthusiasm, knowing that my earlier promise of a special surprise is about to commence.
“Y’all know my buddy, Ren, right?” I ask and then laugh, adding, “Of course, you do. Everyone knows Rennick Rafferty.”
Everyone cheers, always excited when I segue into some kind of off-the-wall storytelling segment. I am a lot of things, but one thing I am not, is boring.
“He saved my life once.” The crowd oohs and aahs, so I nod. “That’s right. Many years ago I got myself into a bad situation and Ren showed up and saved my fucking ass.”
“Were you wasted?” A fan shouts from the back of the crowd.
I make a face, lift my hand, wave it side-to-side. “Maybe, but not so wasted that I didn’t know what was going to happen.”
“Come on,” another voice from the crowd shouts. “Tell us the story.”
I chuckle, placing my foot on top of a speaker and leaning forward, my arms braced on the top of my thigh. “Oooh, that’s right. You all do love a good story time.”
The crowd goes into a frenzy and I let them scream it out for a moment before raising my hand in the air. They quiet down quickly and I wait a bit, trying to decide how much of the story I want to tell. The smart choice would have been not bringing it up at all, but since this is entirely relevant to where this encore is going, I may as well be a dumb fucker and use it to bring my point home.
Turning to Ren, I move the mic away and ask, “You mind if I tell ‘em?”
“Why would I mind?”
I shrug. “I know you’ve been asked in interviews about how we met and always refused to answer. Figured it was only polite I ask.”
“It wasn’t my story to tell, Dec,” he responds quietly, his gaze somber. “You’re welcome to tell it as you wish.”
I turn back to the crowd, one hand in the air as I bring the mic back to my lips. “I gotta warn you all, the story you’re about to hear may be triggering. It’ll take a few minutes to get to thegnarly parts, so I caution you that if you’re triggered by drugs or potentially criminal behavior you’ll want to depart now.”
I wait a moment, watching the shift as a few people make a beeline for the exit, then I wave to my stage crew who have been waiting in the wings. They scurry out, carrying a couple chairs, a table, a pitcher and two glasses. A huge potted palm tree that I knew would be ostentatious but also made me laugh.
They set it all up in the middle of the stage as planned and then I motion to Ren, who’s giving me a look of annoyance that can only be shared between brothers. Blood-related or otherwise.
“Seriously, man,” Ren mutters as he slowly seats himself. “You gotta make a show out of everything?”
“Hey, if I’m going to use my life experiences as a cautionary tale to others, then I may as well do it in style.”
