So he did.
Then launched intoHighwaywhile the fans screamed.
Epilogue
Two Years Later
“You ready to do this?” Killian slid from under the steering wheel and waited for Mike to climb out of the vehicle. In the climate-controlled garage back home, eight beautiful, sleek, high-performance cars waited, yet when time came for a sneak performance at a club, nothing said inconspicuous like the unmarked equipment truck they’d borrowed for the occasion.
Mike crawled out of the vehicle and stopped. “What?” He nodded toward a familiar rusted-out El Camino and let out a laugh. “You mean, they haven’t gotten rid of that eyesore yet? Though I kinda like it. It brought me you.” He gave Killy a quick kiss. “I thought they’d have it towed away when Merle expanded the parking lot.”
Killian’s old ride sat exactly where he’d left it in The Rarin’ Stallion’s parking lot, with the rims sunk into concrete and labeled with a plaque, containing his and Mike’s names and the dates they’d played at the club. He shook his head. Some people. No, not “some people”, but Merle, who’d greatly expanded his business since Killy and Mike’s chance meeting made his club famous.
They pulled their guitar cases from the back and trudged toward the building’s front door. Merle had found a fresh coat of paint for the building and resurfaced the parking lot. Not a single dandelion marked the asphalt this time. He’d better be careful: if the place got too fancy somebody might order a martini. The neon sign of a rearing horse still beckoned, adding its bit of crass. The sights, the scents, even the heat all seemed so familiar.
The place would certainly hold one hell of a lot more people than the first night he and Mike had played here, and more pool tables took up room in the back.
The cheap disco ball still hung from the ceiling, and brought a smile.
Some things never changed.
After a moment, Merle and the woman behind the bar noticed the two men stalking through their midst with purpose. A middle-aged woman parked on a barstool peered over her shoulder and went back to watching Merle with way too much interest. And chugging a beer.
Merle grinned. “Hot damn! I wasn’t expecting you, but then again, you never tell me, you just show up.” He quickly added, “Not that I’m not glad to see you. You boys are welcome anytime.” The man made a damned good liar, not letting on that he and Killy had spoken regularly for months, building up to this night.
The bartender smiled wide, nodded to Mike and slipped them each a beer.
“Thanks,” Killy said, making his way to the stage. “Got something we need to try out. Mind letting us have the place for a little while? We’ll try not to bother you too much.” His heart pounded hard enough to outdo Jake on a drum solo. “Then, if it’s okay with you, we’ll hit the stage around nine. Reckon the house band’ll mind much? All tips are theirs.”
“Oh, no. They won’t mind at all.” Merle’s grin, if possible, grew wider. “Just wait until I tell ‘em.”
Killy gave a laugh. “Not too much publicity, mind you. This is supposed to be one of our surprise appearances. We don’t want media saying we’d planned it.”
“You have my word.” He turned toward the bartender and the starry-eyed woman who, judging by her lack of interest in Killy and Mike, didn’t know of Trickster. Either that or she’d set her cap for Merle so well nothing else mattered. “C’mon, ladies. Why don’t we go down to the diner and get a bite to eat before we open?”
The woman lit up and wriggled from her stool, snagging Merle’s arm with one beringed hand to steady herself on impossibly high heels. “Why, handsome, I thought you’d never ask.”
Either Merle had second thoughts, or swallowed a bug. “Um… yeah…errr…” He turned desperate eyes to Killy, mouthing, “This is all your fault!”
Killy mouthed back, “I’ll owe you.”
With a resigned shrug Merle led the two women out of the bar. Killy sighed his relief. One hurdle jumped.
Mike had no idea what was about to hit him. Something a long time in coming.
That had begun in this very club.
No one knew of his full plans but him and Annie, who’d given him a pep talk and helped him with a few purchases.
“What was it you wanted to try?” Mike asked, finishing up his tuning. Like Killy, he now owned a lot of guitars, but for tonight, they’d brought the instruments they’d played two years ago.
“How about we warm up a bit withHighway, since it’s Merle’s favorite.”
Confusion on Mike’s face melted to acceptance, then a grin. “Sure. Hey! Remember that first night we played here?”
Did Killy ever. Being so alone, not caring what the future brought. Or if it brought anything. Living day to day, barely putting one foot in front of the other. All that changed the moment he’d first set foot in this club and laid eyes on Mike.
Mike, who’d listened without judging, and treated him like a man, didn’t fawn or want things from him.
