Southern Rocker Chick

by Ginger Voight

  His voice was quiet as he responded at last. “It was all a lie, Lacy.”

  “Apparently,” I snapped.

  He turned to face me. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I swear to God.”

  I planted one hand on my hip as I glared at him. “A picture paints a thousand words, Ace.”

  He stood. “I need you to trust me, Lacy. I didn’t betray you.”

  “You betrayed me the minute you tried to dress me up like one of your sluts!” I cried before I slapped him hard across the face. He took it; he didn’t even try to fight back. It only made me madder. “I told you what Tony Paul did. I told you what it did to me. How could you, Jonah?”

  His face was contrite. His voice was constricted. “I was trying to help.”

  “I don’t need your help. I’ve been on that stage since I was your sister’s age.”

  His gaze was unwavering. “And how far has it gotten you?”

  I belted him with the other hand. Again he took it. “Go to hell!” I cried before I turned to leave. He grabbed my wrist.

  “Gay is going to fire you, Lacy.”

  I turned back to face him. “What?”

  He sighed and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. It was another set list. “Graham Baxter is coming to the club next weekend. She wants me to perform as the feature act for Dreaming in Blue. I told her that I wanted it to be Blaze or nothing. I begged her for one last chance to show that you could do everything I was doing. She said that if you didn’t follow her rules over the weekend, she’d know that you were beyond her help.”

  I stared at the set list, which included songs he would have never even dared to sing had I not encouraged him to. “So you have to choose,” I concluded softly.

  He pulled me closer. “No, that’s just it. I don’t have to choose. You can do this with me. We can do this together. It doesn’t have to be either/or, Lacy.”

  I scoffed. “God, are you really that stupid, Jonah? Gaynell is never going to help me succeed, no matter what I do. These outfits? They’re a punishment. They’re a judgment. And I’m the little paid monkey she can keep on a string because I have no choices.”

  “But why?” he asked. “Why would she go to that much trouble to sabotage you? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  I was pretty sure by then that Jonah had no idea how deep the vendetta ran between Gay and me. But in the end, did he really need that proof that what I was saying was true? Wasn’t it enough just that I said it?

  Of all the things he had done, that was the part that hurt the most. “For someone who wants me to trust him so much, you sure have a helluva time trusting me. Don’t you, Ace?”

  I left him with that, and didn’t talk to him again, even when we took the stage that night. I kept the outfit and I did Gay’s set, but I was at the end of my compromises. Mama was right. It had all been a pipe dream.

  When I got home, I sent Vanni a direct message at last. “I hear you’re coming to Austin.”

  It took about an hour, but he finally replied. “It was supposed to be a surprise.” He added a winking face emoticon.

  “Is your previous offer still valid?”

  “Why do you think I’m coming to Austin?” he replied, not even a minute later. He sent another message before I could reply, offering his phone number. I called him. He answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, stranger,” he crooned into my ear. “Long time, no see.”

  “I just have one question for you,” I stated simply. “Why do you want me?”

  He seemed confused by the question. “I told you a long time ago that I thought you had it in you to be the next big star. That hasn’t changed. In fact, I think it’s truer now than then.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re different. You’re interesting. You’ve got the voice. You’ve got the stage presence. Your original material is strong and solid. You’re a powerhouse, Lacy.” He hesitated a bit. “Or should I call you Blaze?”

  “Please don’t,” I answered.

  “Are you okay?” he asked at last.

  His voice was so soft on the other end of the line, like a long-distance friend. The minute I opened my mouth, truth began to spill from it in ways I didn’t expect. I told him about Lucas. I told him about Doyle Quinlan, Gay and Tony Paul. I explained about Jasper Carrington and all my missed chances. I even told him about Cody, to explain to him why I fought so hard. He let me go on and on until my voice cracked and I ran out of words.

  “I went through something similar when I first started,” he confided softly. “It’s hard to know who to trust. I mean, look at what you’ve gone through.” I nodded. “But it isn’t all bad, baby,” he said softly. “There are good people out there who really want to help you get ahead.”

  “And you’re one of them, I suppose.”

  “One of many, Lacy. All you need to do is send an audition tape. What do you have to lose?”

  He was right. I had nothing to lose except the restraints that already bound me, both to Southern Nights, the Hollises and Austin itself. Sending that audition tape would finally force me to sever all ties with Gay. I couldn’t be under contract and apply for the show, and it was clear as rain that needed to happen sooner rather than later.

  Once I cut those ties, Mama was forced to cut hers with Austin, that ugly little trailer and our pitiful past. Even if I didn’t get any further than the first audition, it was a change in my life that was long overdue.

  I was tired of dragging my chains.

  I was at Southern Nights by Monday afternoon, offering her the paperwork to release Tony Paul from his parental obligations. I wanted nothing to tie me to the Hollis family or to Southern Nights. My penance was over. My debt had been paid.

  She stared at the paper in her hand. “I take it I didn’t pass probation.”

  “You are correct,” I said. “For once.”

  She reached into her file cabinet and pulled out some legal documentation to dissolve our contract. “I know you won’t believe me, but I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

  “You’re right. I don’t believe you. You wanted to punish me and you did. Congratulations.”

  She sighed as she looked up at me. “Believe it or not, Lacy, this wasn’t about you. I do what is right for my club. And I’m not going to torpedo myself simply because I feel sorry for you.”

  “Save your pity,” I snapped. “I don’t need it, any more than I needed your money.”

  She nodded. “So where will you go now?”

  “Why do you care?”

  She reached into the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a photo. It was a photo I took when Cody was first born, something I had sent to Tony Paul a long time ago. “I’m not as heartless as you think, Lacy.” She glanced down at the photo with a bittersweet smile. “He looks just like Tony did when he was a baby. He could be his twin. I always knew you were telling the truth.”

  “So why did you fight me?” I asked.

  “Because I’m a mother first. Tony Paul is my son, and I’ll do anything to protect him. I think now you have some sense of that yourself. The compromises you make, the things you do that you swore you never would. We’re mothers. That’s what we do.”

  I thought about the new and scary road ahead of me. “I suppose you’re right.”

  I stood on one side of her desk. She stood on the other. We said nothing further as we went our separate ways at last.

  It had gone a lot smoother than I could have ever predicted, especially after our sketchy past.

  The harder question was what I was going to do with Jonah. As hurt as I was, I needed closure. I needed to know why he did what he did.

  And I hoped beyond hope that it was all a monstrous misunderstanding, so that he could be a part of my future instead of a footnote in my past.

  I showed up at his apartment Tuesday afternoon. He looked surprised to see me.

  “I didn’t expect to see you today,” he said softly.

  “It’s Tuesday, isn’t it?” I ask
ed.

  He nodded in agreement before he stood aside to let me in. Leah brightened immediately when she saw me.

  “Lacy!” she exclaimed as she ran over to say hello. She threw her frail arms around me, which I happily reciprocated. She was a darling girl.

  All of Jonah’s girlfriends seemed to think so.

  “Where’s Cody?” Leah asked.

  “At home,” I answered. “I kind of needed to see your brother alone today.”

  Leah nodded. “I’ll give you some privacy,” she said before she disappeared down the hall into one of the bedrooms.

  Jonah motioned toward the bulky furniture in the tight space. “Please. Make yourself at home.”

  I nodded. But as I walked to the sofa, I realized that wasn’t where I wanted to be. I changed direction and headed down the hall. His bedroom was easy to spot, with its darker, bold colors and a rumpled queen-sized bed.

  Jonah followed me. He barely shut the door before I threw myself into his arms. I kissed him hard, as hard and commanding as any of the kisses he’d ever given me. “Lacy,” he managed breathlessly, but I shook my head.

  I didn’t want to talk.

  He had one last test to pass. If it was real, I’d feel it.

  “Shh,” I said as I pulled him onto the bed. “Don’t talk. Just make love to me, Jonah.”

  He groaned deep in his throat as he kissed me, his mouth devouring mine as his tongue nearly choked me. This was no time for playing nice. I wanted him to fuck me as though he’d die if he didn’t. I needed to know that I was more important than anything else, including the music. I wanted to be chosen, to be trusted, to be loved, and I was tired of waiting. I encouraged him with moans and sighs as he slipped a hand under my shirt. I wrestled with the fastener on his snug jeans.

  He pulled away slightly. “Lacy,” he said.

  “You said you loved me,” I murmured as I wrapped my legs around him. “Prove it.”

  He obeyed my command by tearing off my shirt and burying his face between my breasts. He drove me crazy, teasing me with his warm mouth, while he tore away all the clothing that stood in our way. Finally he had stripped me bare. I opened my legs and pulled him towards me. “Fuck me, Jonah.”

  He looked every bit as crazed as I was, but he pulled away briefly to retrieve something from the nightstand. I spotted the wrapper immediately.

  Off my stunned look, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  My throat was tight as I answered. “I could ask the same of you. Why a condom now?”

  He struggled for something to say. “You can’t be too careful,” he finally shrugged.

  After all these weeks, after all we shared, after all he’d learned, he could still say this to me. I squirmed out from under him. I perched on the edge of his bed, feeling like a fool. “I guess you’re right.”

  He reached for me, brushing his hand on my bare shoulder. I recoiled instantly. “What’s wrong?” he asked again.

  I turned to face him. Tears burned in my eyes but I was determined not to cry. Not in front of him. Not now. “Nothing is wrong. If you don’t count the fact the man who claims to love me doesn’t trust me.”

  “Because of the condom?” he asked.

  “Don’t play stupid, Jonah. It insults us both.” I reached for my discarded clothes to begin dressing.

  Several emotions crossed his face, confusion, anger, suspicion. None of it made me feel any better. “Did you want another baby?” he finally asked.

  And there it was. There was the reason we could never be together. He said he loved me and Southern Nights was just a job. But when it came right down to it, when he had to double down on trusting me rather than a bunch of strangers who had been playing us off each other like puppets, he chose the puppeteer. Gaynell had certainly chosen well for her replacement son. Just like Tony Paul, Jonah had picked the option that did him the most good… and it sure as hell wasn’t me.

  “Of course that’s what you’d think. Hear that from your best buddy Gay?” I spat. The second I was dressed I slammed out of the room and raced down the hall. Tears blinded me as I headed for my car.

  Jonah was right on my tail. “Lacy,” he said as he grabbed my arm. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

  Tears poured down my cheeks. “They say that the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. So I guess that clinches it. I’m insane.” I tried to pull away from him but he held me tight.

  “Lacy,” he repeated as he stared into my face.

  I reached into my pocket and retrieved the flyer I found at the club the day before. It was for the new lineup on Saturday, with Blaze opening the show and Jonah performing solo as the feature act. “Congratulations. You made it.”

  “This isn’t set in stone,” he tried to insist. “Gay told me that we could reevaluate on Thursday.”

  “There’s nothing to evaluate,” I assured him. “I already told Gay I wasn’t interested in the feature spot.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I told you. I don’t want that. I don’t want any part of the lies, the manipulation, the backstabbing and the mudslinging. I just want to sing, Jonah. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Fame changes people. Just look at you.”

  “That’s not fair. I’m still the same guy you met months ago.”

  My eyes traveled over his new clothes, the styled hair and his trademark beard. Even the boots were new. “See?” I croaked. “Just another lie. Goodbye, Jonah.”

  I slipped into my car and revved the engine. It only made me think of how it all started months ago, when he had come to my rescue in a darkened parking lot.

  My hero. My Good Samaritan. My Boy Scout.

  Now he was just another liar and another user.

  He kept calling for me as I drove away.

  I never bothered to look back.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I sang my last set at Southern Nights to a packed crowd, including Graham Baxter and Giovanni Carnevale. It was a fitting farewell, considering I never would have darkened the threshold again had it not been for those two VIP guests.

  I didn’t say anything at all to Jonah. I couldn’t. I could barely face him. I couldn’t believe that I had been so badly fooled a second time. It was my fault, I supposed. I raced headlong into every embrace hoping for the best.

  As it turned out, I should have prepared for the worst.

  As usual.

  True to her word, Mama agreed that we’d finally get the hell out of Austin, now that my gig at Southern Nights crashed and burned. I had saved as much money as I could over the next six weeks, working double and triple shifts at Mama’s diner, socking away every last penny as we sold the trailer and most everything else. In the end, we had about five thousand dollars in our pocket as we headed west that October to start a brand new life.

  At first I didn’t tell Mama about Fierce. I wasn’t ready to do that until I actually got the gig, and there were several rounds of auditions to go.

  In the meantime, we could work a couple of throwaway jobs to make ends meet. Mama got a restaurant job at a swanky hotel in Anaheim, while I worked housekeeping. When I wasn’t working, I was practicing. By the time I got that first callback in November, I was ready to sink my teeth into the rock ballad that intimidated me most.

  My first obstacle was getting past the makeup guy, Jorge Navarro. Like everyone else in my life, he wanted to polish me and make me marketable. He coaxed me into his disco wonderland filled with black lace and incense, but I promptly told him I had no interest in being styled.

  “This is a show about being accepted for your talent, not the way you look, right?” I asked, my hand on my hip as I stared at the beautiful androgynous man with dark hair, guyliner and even more tattoos than I had.

  “True,” he conceded. “That’s why you have the oh-so-enviable opportunity to brand yourself. I’m just here to guide you, honey. You’re the one who throws paint on the canvas.”

 
We proceeded to fight for the next hour and a half over wardrobe, makeup and my hair. He was just about to throw up his hands in defeat when I saw the long ivory gown hanging off one of the racks in his massive closet. It was vintage, complete with ornate beading. It looked almost like a bridal gown, but that was what drew me to it. I knew I’d never wear a real one, so I might as well make this one shot count.

  Once we decided on the dress, he encouraged me to go retro with my hair, with a 40s style full of waves and curls, that actually enhanced my unusual color. After he won that battle, he used that success to convince me to wear pinup style makeup, with bold, sweeping eyeliner and ruby red lips.

  I was immediately taken aback as I stared at my reflection. I never even knew I could look like that. My skin was bared in spots, but elegantly so, as if framing my tattoos. I didn’t feel cheap. I didn’t feel sexualized.

  In fact I felt empowered. It was like I was seeing Lacy for the first time ever.

  I walked out onto that stage in front of the three judges, Vanni, of course, as well as Ryder Reed and country star, Allison Ewing. The producers of the show sat right up front. There was Graham Baxter, an elegant man in his 40s, with salt-and-pepper hair and warm, dark eyes. Next to him was Shannon McKenna, who had parlayed her time on a reality dating show to become a media powerhouse.

  I was a bundle of nerves when the song began. If I failed now, I knew this was the end of the road. I had to make this work or else I’d be scrubbing toilets for the rest of my life. Because of how much was riding on it, the song took on a more poignant meaning. I felt every word to my core.

  Finally I reached the last part and that bitch of a note I knew would strangle me if I didn’t wrestle it under control. I didn’t believe I’d hit it up until the very second I did. I looked at Vanni, who was beaming with pride.

  I knew I nailed it.

  After that, I wasn’t even worried about going on to the next round. Yes, there were plenty of talented people there, vying for their spot in the show.