She watched him closely, dissecting each and every decision he made. Nothing had been overlooked. From the way he dressed, to the way he sang to the girls in the front row, touching his tongue nearly to his nose, he had complete control of the room.
If she was lucky enough to stay, she would corner Shiloh in the coming week. And this time, she’d listen to what he had to say. He had age and experience. She was an idiot to dismiss him out of hand.
Jonah decided to sing one of the songs he had perfected back in Austin, in Southern Nights, when he was the star performer for all the ladies on Ladies’ Night. It was slow and sexy, with a primal beat. He abandoned the tight blue jeans for a tailored suit. He didn’t show one ounce of skin he didn’t want to.
In Lacy’s opinion, it only made him sexier. The classic rock tune spoke about sex, and Jonah sold it convincingly. When those eyes met hers, she couldn’t breathe. She remembered what it was like to be locked in those powerful arms, his mouth on her body, his hands sliding easily over her skin. That suit clung to his hard body, reminding her of how he looked, how he felt… how he tasted.
The second he looked into the camera, she knew that he had just secured his place in Week Two.
For a moment she had to wonder how Tony Paul would take it, following an act like that. Jonah had learned well from Gaynell. He knew what he had to do to get noticed, and he had no problem doing it. By the time his song was over, the decibel of the shrieking that filled that soundstage could have shattered glass.
Finally it was Tony Paul’s turn. Surprisingly, he had also chosen a classic rock tune, singing his praises to fat-bottomed girls, even though Lacy knew for a fact he had never been with one. He abandoned the tight clothes entirely. He wore all black, with stylish slacks and a knit shirt that spread across his vast shoulders.
Despite the extra weight and the loss of all the things he used to depend on to drive the girls wild, Tony Paul still had one crucial bullet left in the chamber. He was Tony Paul Hollis – and he knew it.
He sang to every girl like she was the only girl in the world, and each and every girl found herself wanting to be. Tony tried to sing to Lacy, too. She could only hope she didn’t wear outside the snarl she felt inside. Finally she dropped his gaze entirely.
After it was said and done, it was hard to predict which of the performances would land two guys in the bottom, sending one of them home. It was as though they learned from the mistakes of Night One, namely her big boo-boo, to bring their A-game.
The party that night was far more jovial, but Lacy made an early night of it anyway. The thought of an empty mansion was far more appealing.
Shiloh had the same idea. He joined her in the car on the way back and beat her to the studio once they arrived. She followed him and listened to what he was doing, which was clearly his own music.
“How long have you been doing this?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Off and on since I was fifteen.” He fiddled with the guitar as he spoke. His experience showed.
“How come you’ve waited so long to do anything about it?”
“Life,” he offered with a lopsided grin. “I got married young. Became a dad young. Had to get a real nine-to-five to pay the bills. About ten years ago I decided the years were going to pass either way. I could either do what I loved or drive off of a dock somewhere. I decided to start working in the business for a lot less money. Before long I wasn’t married anymore.”
“And your kids?”
He shrugged. “Better off with their mom. At least that’s how family court sees it, anyway.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“It’s okay. She was always more pissed about my being a musician than they were. The older they get, the more they get it. There are just some things in this life that we have to do. We’re working it through and I’m making it up little by little. Needless to say, winning this thing could help a lot.” She nodded. She understood. “How about you?”
“How about me, what?”
“What’s your sob story?”
“What makes you think I have one?”
He chuckled. “Because you’re battered and worn, like a stuffed rabbit who simply longs to be real.” It was her turn to laugh. “You’re human and you’re breathing. We all have one reason to cry.”
She searched his face. He was a nice guy, she had sensed that immediately. He was who he was with no apology. There was no duplicity. If there were any, he certainly would try harder to impress her. Instead she got the feeling he didn’t care about such things. He performed first for himself. He set out to challenge himself. Only by meeting those challenges would he achieve true artistic success. He needed money because they all needed money, but he really had no desire to be a big “star.” It was the love of the craft that drove him, not his ego.
She knew she had met a kindred spirit. She hoped that he had won the hearts of the viewing public to ensure his place there for one more week because she felt more comfortable with him than she had with anyone else in a long, long while.
If he stayed, and if she stayed, she would use this opportunity to learn from someone who had about twice the life experience she did. What Lucas didn’t teach her, she knew Shiloh could. “So what do I do when they call my name tomorrow?” she asked softly.
“Go down swinging,” he answered. “Go out there and sing like the only thing that matters is the song. Not the competition, not proving a point to the world. Sing it because you feel it. Sing it because you need to say it.” She said nothing. “Show me what you were going to do yesterday.”
For a full minute, she contemplated whether or not to comply. Finally she took a deep breath and sang the song a capella. An angry song of heartbreak became an earnest ballad of longing, just from the woeful sound of her raspy, bluesy voice. He watched her face for a while, getting a feel for her groove, before he filled in an instrumental, following the emotions on her face to complement her voice with his guitar. By the time she finished, there were tears running down her face. He reached across his guitar and caught a tear on his finger. “Told you that you had a sob story.”
With that, the dam burst. She wasn’t sure how or why, but all the feelings she had bottled up behind her rage over the years instantly became too much to bear. She sobbed into her hands, bawling just like a baby. She cried for her failures, from blowing her first performance to her failure to give the Cody the life he deserved. She had chased all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons, just like her father had done. Was she destined to walk his lonely path? The one where her son would be better off without her, just like Shiloh’s kids?
She heard him put his guitar aside as he walked over to where she sat on the stool. “Hey. It’s okay,” he comforted as he wrapped his arms around her. She shook her head and buried her head into his chest. He rubbed her back gently. “Shh,” he crooned easily as he rested his chin on the top of her head. “It’s okay, Lacy. It’s okay to feel.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist. She didn’t realize until that moment how badly she had needed that hug. It was fatherly and comforting, acutely reminding her of her losses. It had been a long, lonely decade without her father, the one who had been her hero when she was a child. She had loved every moment they shared, singing together like they were the only two people in the world who heard what the other was saying. Everything they couldn’t say, they sang. All the dissatisfaction of living a life in a cramped trailer, without material things that other people took for granted. All the conflict with her mother, for chasing after a dream destined to bring them nothing but heartache.
It was like speaking a language only the two of them knew. Shiloh spoke that language, which was unexpected and glorious. She tightened her arms around him.
“Is everything okay?”
They turned to see Jonah standing at the door of the studio. His eyes traveled from Shiloh to Lacy, who pulled away at once, wiping her tears away so that he couldn’t see. “Yeah,” Shiloh answered. “Ju
st a stressful night.” Shiloh grabbed his guitar. “I think I’m going to go meditate,” he said before he left the two of them alone. Jonah’s throat burned as he stared at her.
He had left the party early, unable to watch Tony Paul strut around like a prize rooster, confident that he had the performance of the night, which was arguably true. All the guys had a moment, but Tony Paul’s felt more significant because no one had expected his effect on the crowd. The scuttlebutt from gossip blogger Miles O’Rourke was that Jonah was their man candy for the season. No one expected Tony Paul to rally and fight for the title as rock god of Season Three.
Bolstered by this discovery, Tony Paul was the cock of the walk as he made the rounds with everyone at the party, including the girls who decided to live it up one last time before elimination night. He got cozy with barely legal Harper Clark, which made Jonah sick.
Not only had he left one young girl pregnant, he made a beeline for someone equally as young and conceivably naïve. He was a user and a poser and Jonah hated him more each and every day. It made him seethe to know that Tony Paul had touched Lacy’s body, holding her, kissing her and possessing her, when he wasn’t even fit to shine her shoes.
Finding Lacy, his closed-off, angry misanthrope, opening up to a virtual stranger was the last thing he expected when he arrived early at the house, hoping to find her, hoping to be that shoulder for her to lean on. She wiped her cheeks dry with the back of her hand as she ducked her head and attempted to pass him.
He grabbed her arm, pulling her close to his body. For a moment, neither could breathe. He didn’t let her go and she didn’t move away. Instead her eyes traveled up over his face, with that clenched jaw and those bright eyes. She had seen that look in those eyes before. He was angry. He was frustrated. He was confused. But above all, he wanted her. He wanted her despite how complicated she was. She was his puzzle to solve. He pulled her closer and she didn’t fight him.
It was all in slow motion as his mouth descended onto hers. Her head tilted back as his tongue penetrated her soft lips. She moaned softly and he strained towards her. His voice was gruff as he pulled away. “Take me to your room,” he breathed against her lips.
Her body flooded with desire. She wanted to obey his soft command, but she knew she couldn’t. The first couple that had come out of Fierce ended up with a sex scandal, having been taped during their most intimate, private moments in the secure mansion that they had shared.
That was a chance she simply couldn’t take. “We can’t,” she said.
His touch was feather-light as he ran his hands down her arms. “No one is here. Everyone is the party. We’re alone. We’re together. God, Lacy,” he muttered as he bent for another kiss.
As good as it felt, she had to pull away. She had been stumbling over Tony Paul for a week. He seemed bound and determined to be the thorn in her side. She just knew that he’d be the one to catch them. And he’d be the kind who would upload candid photos and videos to the media to torpedo the both of them.
Jonah, however, wasn’t about to let her go. “Please, Lacy. I need to be with you. Don’t risk leaving this house without us saying what we need to say or doing what we want to do.”
And just like that, her blood ran cold. She arched away to look him in the eye. “What’s your hurry, Jonah? Afraid I’m going home tomorrow?”
He had offended her. It was clear. “Any one of us could go home tomorrow,” he reminded.
“Not you,” she corrected. “And you know it. So you just want one more chance to nail me before America sends me back to the trailer park, right?” She wrenched away from him. “How does Courtney figure into your plan? Or are you going to go fuck her next, just to cover all your bases?”
His mouth fell open. How could she say that to him? “There’s nothing going on between me and Courtney.”
She sneered at him. “Don’t worry, Ace. I’m sure she can console you next week after I’m gone.” She brushed past him and stalked from the studio.
Chapter Seven
The group number went surprisingly well, given how awkwardly several of the contestants performed. It was the first week, so glitches were expected. Besides, the judges didn’t evaluate the group performances, which allowed them the liberty of mistakes.
While Lacy’s notorious stumble during the first live show suggested one slot at the bottom was already filled, it was clear that the rest of them, except for maybe Tony Paul or Harper Clark, were nervous wrecks that their names could be called in one short hour to join her.
In the end, Lila Cruz stood side-by-side with Lacy, while Jermaine and shy Seth Granger, a beautiful, long-haired and bearded songwriter with a hipster man-bun, black glasses and skinny jeans, stood next to them. These were the bottom four. Lacy could barely breathe as the boys battled it out in song first. She could feel their nerves as they left it all on the stage, desperate to get just one more chance. Despite his fancy footwork, Jermaine ultimately lost to Seth’s more folksy performance on the ukulele.
Then it was down to Lila and Lacy. Lila went first, and nerves were not her friends. Her voice cracked and she forgot a lyric. She glanced hopelessly toward her brother, Richie. He gave her an encouraging nod, but the minute Lila glanced down at Vanni, who watched her with those unreadable dark eyes, she blew her big note at the end.
Jonah was immediately reminded of her theory that Vanni had a soft spot for Lacy, and wondered if she had let that play games with her head.
Then it was Lacy’s turn. Jonah held his breath as she walked to the middle of the stage. The band didn’t join her, like the day before. Instead she began to sing a capella, in a way he had never heard her sing before.
Lacy thought about Cody lying next to her in bed, asking her to sing. He never judged her. He never criticized her. He never tried to talk her out of doing the one thing she knew in her heart she was born to do. Instead, he would stare up at her, a captivated audience, enthralled by her voice. He accepted her unconditionally. He was her safe place to fall.
And she sang her song just like she had sung it to her son. Her voice cracked, but it didn’t matter. Her emotional, raw performance left most of the audience in tears. They saw a new side to Lacy Abernathy that night. They saw the one brave enough to be her true self, the scared self, the awkward self, the self that wasn’t afraid to claim its pain.
Vanni smiled at her through his tears as she took her spot beside Dominique. “That was what I was waiting for,” he told her.
Allison and Ryder made similar comments. It was clear they were both moved by her performance. “Never be afraid to feel something,” Allison advised. “The audience needs to believe you. Don’t even open your mouth if you can’t convince yourself of your story.”
Ryder nodded. “Being a cool or angry rocker chick, that’s no trick. For decades we’ve met star after star who decided if they couldn’t fit in, they’d kick down the door and hold us all up by the throat. But you don’t have to lose who you are as a woman just to pave the way as a rock star. You can own every part of who you are, no matter what you’re feeling. If you’re using anger as a shield, no one will buy what you’re selling. But this Lacy is interesting. Just listen to that crowd behind me.”
It dawned on her that everyone was chanting her name. She hadn’t even heard that before.
The judges took a vote and each one called her name, keeping her in the competition one more week. She burst immediately into tears as she glanced down at her mother, whose mascara had likewise smeared down her cheeks. She wore a proud smile, for the first time ever, as she applauded for her daughter.
In fact, Jules hadn’t known until that moment how much she had wanted Lacy to do well. It would have been so much easier to ditch the whole thing and go back to the real world. The minute she heard Lacy sing, and the audience respond, Jules suspected that was no longer an option.
That night the party was more intimate and much more somber. They said goodbye to the two people they only begun to know. Lila was angry,
and she didn’t really bother to hide it. When she spotted the warm hug between Vanni and Lacy, she nearly mowed Jonah down on her way out of the hotel. “Are you okay?”
“Not really,” she snapped. “I’m going home while that bitch gets to stay.”
“She’s not a bitch,” Jonah said softly. “She’s just…,” he trailed off with a sigh. “Flawed.”
“Aren’t we all?” Lila shot back. “I thought that was why this show existed. Instead I get sent packing because I don’t fit into a size four like she does.”
“Come on,” he said. How could she even think such a thing after Lacy’s performance? She was so much more than a pretty face. “You know that’s not it.”
Her eyebrow arched. “No? Then tell me where she went Monday night, after she’d fallen right on her face for the whole world to see. You know she didn’t go back to the mansion, right?”
His stomach dropped. “No. I didn’t know that.”
“So where was she?” He had no answer for her. “Look. I know the type. She can’t cut it as a true artist, so she uses her little wounded bird act to fuck her way up the charts. Why? Because she can. She can shake her ass. She can show her tits. She can sell her song to any guy in the front row who thinks he has a shot with her. It only makes everything harder for people like me who really give a damn, who really have talent.” She glared back at Vanni. “He didn’t come racing over here to hug me goodbye, now did he?”
Jonah glanced back at Vanni and Lacy, who stood closely. He was much taller than she was, so he regularly bent to talk to her, speaking into her ear to fight the loud music all around them. He had a big smile for her, and she didn’t bother hiding her tears from him. They were interrupted by Tony Paul, who offered his hand to congratulate her.
More than anything, Jonah hated seeing the two of them together. Tony Paul sized her up like a raw piece of meat, which made her visibly uncomfortable. Jonah had to seriously resist the urge to ride to her rescue. He knew she would only turn on him for doing it. Loving Lacy was a bit like handling a scorpion. He had to be gentle or she’d sting him in a flash.
Southern Rocker Showdown Page 8
