Dare to Live Read online

  “Is this the girl you were telling me about?” Jake asked me with wide eyes, salivating.

  Roxanne tittered or snorted, and maybe Jessie did as well. I couldn’t tell since I was piercing Jake with my gaze so hard it hurt. Nevertheless, heat barreled upward and gripped my cheeks like a vise.

  Jessie nibbled on her bottom lip. “Rox, I’m not sure I want to sing anymore.”

  At that, I addressed the girl who was doing things to my body. “Don’t be afraid.”

  She considered me for a second as she lifted her chin. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were a little glossy. “I’m not scared. It’s just I’ve never sung in front of a crowd. I only sing when I’m working on engines or in the confines of my house.”

  Her words didn’t match the fright in her eyes.

  “You work on engines?” Jake asked. “Like cars?”

  Jessie poked out her pretty breasts. “Motorcycles. Although I have tinkered with car engines.”

  “Is this the line to sign up?” a guy asked from somewhere behind Roxanne and Jessie.

  Jessie began to shove Roxanne out of the way.

  “She plays the piano,” Roxanne said as both of them got lost in the throng of people milling around.

  I jotted down Jessie’s name but didn’t get a chance to ask what song she was singing. Not a big deal. When we called her name, she could tell us then.

  “For fuck’s sake, dude,” Jake crooned. “If you don’t ask Jessie out, I will.”

  I gripped the pen so fucking tight, my fingers were about to snap. I nodded at the impatient dude in line with a guitar on his back. Instead of spewing his name, he threw down a business card.

  “Cat McCoy.” I read the card again then raked my gaze over the hefty guy who looked as though he could play running back for the NFL. I logged his name on the roster then handed his card back to him.

  “Keep it. I’m sure James Robinson will need all my information after I perform tonight.”

  “Cocky, aren’t you?” I asked with a sneer.

  Most people who signed up for open-mic night came in with a deer-in-the-headlights look or had shaky voices when trying to tell me their names. This dude, who had to have been my age of twenty-one or maybe a year or two older, seemed to have his shit together—chest out, chin up, with a confident aura about him.

  Cat McCoy didn’t respond as he melded into the crowd.

  Jake and I both watched him.

  “You think the dude can sing?” Jake asked.

  “I could give a fuck if he can.”

  “Whoa. What’s with the mood?” Jake asked. “It’s Jessie, isn’t it?”

  I growled under my breath. I’d been happy to see her until she mentioned motorcycles.

  “Dude, she’s a nurse and works on engines,” Jake said. “Man, my dick is hard thinking about her and engines.”

  Mine wasn’t anymore. She’d reminded me why she wasn’t the girl for me. I supposed that was par for the course. First, I’d received rejection letters. Then something as sweet and fine as Jessie had brightened my night only to stomp on it. Then again, she could stomp on me all she wanted as long as she wore those red high heels, which showed off her long legs that disappeared up under her black miniskirt.

  I hopped off the stool. “We should get things rocking and rolling.” We had a long list of performers, and I had to clear them with Mr. Robinson.

  As I pushed through the crowd, an uneasy feeling settled in my gut. Fucking great. Anytime I had one of those weird feelings, something bad always happened.

  Chapter 6

  Jessie

  I bent over the bar to tell the pretty bartender my drink of choice. Even though the music playing from the speakers on the stage wasn’t that loud, the bartender, Ashley, couldn’t hear me over the two rowdy dudes sitting in the seats next to Roxanne and me.

  “Two glasses of house red wine,” I said.

  Ashley nodded and set out to pour two glasses of wine.

  Roxanne nudged me then tipped her head at the businessman who was sitting on her right. “He just got divorced. Poor thing.”

  Then the divorcee launched into a toast with his buddy as they raised their beer glasses. “Here’s to women, creature divine. Bleeds every month, and bears every nine. The only creature between Heaven and Hell that can get goodies from a nut without cracking a shell.”

  Roxanne and I giggled. Then she said to the divorcee, who was clean-shaven and not bad looking, “Good one, dude.”

  He smiled briefly then began chatting with his friend, clearly not interested in Roxanne or anyone except the baldheaded dude with him.

  Ashley brought us our drinks.

  I slid my glass closer to me. “You should try to hook up with Jake tonight.”

  She snorted. “While he’s off-the-charts good-looking, you know I like my men huskier and with more meat on them.”

  The last guy she’d dated was linebacker material, and Jake was on the lankier side.

  We banged our glasses together lightly but with no formal toast except the boring “cheers.”

  “You’re going to sing, right?” Roxanne asked.

  I took a long sip of wine. “The crowd scares the bejesus out of me, although if I keep drinking, I might not be that nervous.” The wine I had at the house was helping to keep my nerves at bay.

  At that moment, the owner, Mr. Robinson, who was handsome for an older man, stood at the microphone. From where Roxanne and I were sitting, we had a clear view of the club. The customers who were lounging on plush furniture on the balcony had a great view of the stage. Waitresses zipped around, taking orders from the balcony patrons and customers on the main floor, where people filled just about every table.

  “I already added your name to the list. You’re getting up on that stage.” Roxanne’s smile warned me not to defy her, or else she would haul me up there.

  I swallowed more wine. I had no doubt she would. It might not be so bad since the wine had relaxed me. Maybe I wouldn’t be so scared once I started singing.

  Roxanne leaned in to me. “Kody is on the other side of the stage with Jake.”

  I hadn’t been looking for the blue-eyed god, who I wouldn’t have minded bringing back to my house for one night. I squirmed where I sat. Liquor always enhanced my libido. I shouldn’t have been drinking anymore. I felt lightheaded as it was. Good thing Roxanne and I had taken a cab. Nevertheless, it was time to enjoy myself.

  The first singer up for open mic was a Cat McCoy. The men next to us cracked up when Mr. Robinson called his name.

  That was a weird name, but it fit as a name to remember if he was trying to make it in the music business. The big, beefy guy got up on stage, ball cap on his head, goatee cut close to his pointy chin, with his guitar in hand. He strummed two chords then launched into the Bob Seger song, “Turn the Page.”

  I was in awe as I listened to his deep, gravelly voice belt out the tune to perfection. Midway through the song, I got up. “I have to use the restroom. Be right back.”

  I wound around tables, careful not to walk in front of the stage to block anyone’s view. When I reached the doorway leading to the restroom, I locked eyes with Kody. Jeepers. Even in the dimly lit club, his eyes were like high beams shining down a dark road. I shivered then smiled coyly before barricading myself in a bathroom stall. The small space spun too much for my liking. Yeah, I had to sip wine and not gulp it down like a wino. Tomorrow was going to hurt. I had no doubt that my head wouldn’t recover for a couple of days.

  After I did my business, washed my hands, took in some very deeps breaths, and washed my mouth out with some cold water, I headed out to Roxanne. I’d just reached the doorway into the main club, when Cat finished his song. Then I heard my name drop from Kody’s lips. He was standing to my left, reading from a notebook. Mr. Robinson nodded at him before Kody got up on stage.

  Oh no. Please don’t call my name.

  Kody strode up, his jeans riding low on his hips and his white T-shirt stretched across
his muscled torso. His right bicep flexed when he grabbed the microphone. “Next up is Jessie Ryan.” He turned his head toward me.

  Roxanne whistled. I only knew it was her because she screamed my name after she belted out one of her tomboy whistles.

  I shook my head at Kody. He waved me up. I shook my head again. Jake was over at the piano, adjusting the mic, while Mr. Robinson closed the distance between us.

  “Jessie?”

  I craned my neck up. “Yes, sir.” Those two words came out garbled, while my heart raced for the exit and beyond.

  “It’s a small crowd. Just take your time.” Mr. Robinson’s voice was soothing.

  My face scrunched. Small crowd, my ass. There had to be at least two hundred and fifty people in the club. Then again, a big-time record producer like Mr. Robinson was used to large venues of thousands when he booked his clients.

  I blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t think my voice would please the crowd.”

  He set soft green eyes on me. “I understand you play the piano. Just play like you’re playing in an empty room.”

  The drone of voices hummed around us.

  “Why are you encouraging me?” I flicked my gaze to Kody, who was waiting patiently at the mic with a guitar lying on the stool beside him. His gaze was pleading with me.

  I was about to ask if Kody was playing with me, when Roxanne ran up. “Jessie. Please give it a shot. I want everyone to hear your pretty voice.” She pouted.

  I didn’t like disappointing her. Besides, the liquor had taken away some of the nerves.

  “Do ‘Building a Mystery’ by Sarah McLachlan,” Roxanne said.

  “Great choice,” Mr. Robinson added. Then he held out his elbow as though he was ready to walk me down the aisle.

  My fingers went around his big arm.

  Kody gave me a huge grin. Jake raised a thumb in the air.

  The crowd applauded. One man shouted, “I bet you’re great.”

  “Sexy too,” another guy piped up.

  The last statement made me blush, and the encouragement, not only from the crowd but also from Mr. Robinson, warmed my heart. I took a seat at the piano and froze.

  Jake ran over to Kody and whispered in his ear. The expression that swept over Kody’s face gave me more reason to get off the stage. I couldn’t tell if he was shocked at what Jake had said or confused or hurt, although my vision was rather blurry. I shook my hands, closed my eyes, and thought of the song. If I was going to do this, I had to sing and play with all I had. The last thing I wanted to do was look like a fool. I also wanted to show Kody I could sing, because the way he had his arms crossed over his chest said he didn’t believe I could. Or maybe I was seeing things. Oh, hell. I wasn’t making any sense.

  Jake sauntered over and adjusted my mic on the piano. “Give them hell.”

  “So Kody isn’t playing the guitar with me?” Please say no… or yes. Oh, hell. I didn’t know what I wanted, although having someone else with me on stage, like my brother, would have helped calm me down.

  “No. This is all you, babe.” He started to leave.

  “Wait. What did you say to Kody?”

  Jake gave me a devilish grin. “That you’re Mr. Robinson’s next star.”

  I almost wailed in laughter. Instead, sweat beaded on my neck. “Are you a psychic?”

  “I’ve been in the industry a long time. I can spot a star when I see one.”

  “But you haven’t heard me sing.”

  He leaned down close to my ear. “It’s always the shy ones that rise.” Then he moseyed over to Kody and Mr. Robinson, who had settled offstage and slightly to my right. That was a good place because in order to look at them, I had to turn my head a bit, and if I did, I might screw up.

  Roxanne gave me a nod along with a huge smile. So I blew out a breath, or more like fire… or what could have been fire with all the wine I’d had. I pressed the piano keys as I launched into the song. Once my fingers touched the ivory keys, I got lost in the words and the melody. But the song needed a guitarist to make it more powerful.

  “You come out at night. That’s when the energy comes.” Suddenly, the club narrowed to the piano and me. “And the dark side’s light. And the vampires roam.” As soon as I sang that last line, someone started playing the guitar.

  I glanced up then out near the mic to find Kody strumming the guitar as he set his sights on me. I wanted to keep looking at him, but if I did, I would screw up for sure. So I lowered my head, not losing a beat as I kept singing. The sound was amazing, the crowd quiet, and their faces riveted to the stage. My earlier dizziness was now more of a high from singing rather than the liquor. Or maybe the two together were creating a sense of freedom, as though I were riding my Ducati and letting the wind breeze over my face. My world was perfect, where no vampires roamed.

  After the four-minute rendition of “Building A Mystery,” I lifted my fingers from the keys, not moving or breathing.

  The crowd cheered so loudly, my head began to hurt.

  I shifted from the crowd to Kody, whose mouth was slightly open, his eyes full of something I couldn’t make out. I turned to Mr. Robinson, who also had his mouth open. The only one that didn’t look like a zombie out of that TV show The Walking Dead was Roxanne. She was jumping up and down, clapping.

  I wanted to get up but couldn’t. I was afraid my legs would betray me because those nerves I’d had before I started had quadrupled. I swallowed hard as I planted my hands into the bench and pushed up. I hesitated for a second before I walked over to Roxanne on shaky legs.

  Mr. Robinson stopped me before I reached my best friend. “Amazing. Where did you learn how to sing and play like that?”

  “My mom taught me and my brother how to play the piano. I just sang when I played.”

  “Well done,” he said. “Well done.” Then he headed over to Kody, where they chatted.

  Roxanne rushed up to me. “You were amazing.”

  I blinked several times and took in some long-needed breaths. I’d actually sung in front of a crowd. Oh my God. Not only that, Kody was an amazing guitarist. I was curious, though, why he joined in and what he was thinking about my performance. On that note, I placed my hand on my abdomen. Nausea swished around, and I almost ran to the bathroom, when I spotted a familiar face strutting toward Roxanne and me.

  Before I could nudge Roxanne, she poked me. “You said he was coming home, but what is he doing in the club?”

  Mack looked different, rougher than I remembered. He had more tattoos on his arms; he’d pierced his nose, eyebrow, and lip; and a scar stood out on his chin that hadn’t been there when he’d left town. Next to him was Lowell, who was smiling so big, my heart burst open.

  Roxanne and I wove around the tables and up to Lowell and Mack. The minute I got close to Mack, I wanted to retreat. Liquor oozed off him, and Mack and booze didn’t go well together. He leaned down and planted a wet and slow kiss on me as I dug my hands into his rock-hard chest.

  He abandoned my lips to whisper in my ear as he gripped my ass. “You know I like it when you fight me.”

  “You’re drunk.” I turned my attention to Lowell. “You didn’t drive over here with him.” I would kill my brother.

  “We took a cab,” Lowell said. He’d switched his powered wheelchair for his manual one. Those were easier to get into a cab since the manual ones folded.

  “Get your hands off her,” Roxanne ordered in her stern motherly voice.

  Mack let out a laugh as he let go of me. “Nice to see you, Roxy.” He winked at her.

  She threw him the finger.

  I laughed.

  “Sis, you were amazing up there,” Lowell said. “Who’s the dude who was playing the guitar?”

  “Kody Maxwell,” Roxanne answered.

  Mack uttered some swear words under his breath, but I didn’t get a chance to probe before Kody ambled up. His features were hard, and his biceps flexed. Upon further examination of his sexy body, I noticed that he had his fists c
losed tightly at his sides.

  Whoa! That high I’d had fizzled like quicksand. I was all for a guy protecting me, but I didn’t do possessive, where he got all jealous if I talked to other guys. I’d seen the remnants of a relationship of a friend of mine in nursing school who had dated a guy that didn’t give her room to breathe. She’d stressed so hard, she’d lost some of her hair. I’d asked her why she didn’t just break it off. Her response had been that the sex was off the charts. Sex or not, I wouldn’t have put up with a guy like that.

  “Is there a problem here?” Kody asked.

  Mack glared as he regarded Kody.

  Kody angled his head at Mack. I sensed some bad blood between them and wondered if they knew each other. I’d known Mack since he was fifteen, and if he knew Kody, I wasn’t aware of it. Granted, I didn’t know all of Mack’s friends since I was older and hadn’t paid attention to him when we were in our teens.

  “Do you two know each other?” I asked.

  The two hunky men glared at one another. Kody was buff and tall like Mack, but he didn’t have that scary edge to him like Mack did. My mom had always said to watch out for the quiet boys. Those were the ones who bit.

  The waitress came up and placed two beers on the table. Then she ducked away as though she knew something was about to go down. Lowell picked up his beer, his gaze shifting between Kody and Mack. Roxanne and I did the same.

  Mr. Robinson’s voice came through the speakers, announcing the next person to perform.

  Kody’s nostrils were flaring at a rapid rate. “I never forget a face.”

  Mack used one hand to cover his fist as though he was gearing up to fight. “I never forget how my foot felt when I was kicking the lights out of you.” The loathing in his tone was thick and icy.

  Lowell choked on his beer. My jaw hit the wooden floor as my attention swung to my brother, silently asking him if he knew that Kody and Mack knew each other. Then again, whether Lowell had any insight into what was transpiring between the two didn’t matter. What did was making sure they didn’t get hurt or hurt anyone else around them.