The Price of Mason

by Linda Kage

  Except Tucker glanced back and caught me in the act. He said nothing, simply lifted an eyebrow as if to say, see what I mean; you can’t even take your eyes off me.

  I huffed bitterly and spun in the opposite direction to…hell, I’d forgotten why I’d even come into the hall. I just wanted to storm away in anger, so that’s what I did, marching down the hall until I remembered…oh yeah. The run in my hose. Shoot.

  Trick was long gone by this point. I glanced down at my fishnet to discover the hole had already grown so big there was no way to hide it now. I was going to have to take them off completely, or make more holes so it’d look like they were there on purpose.

  Because I didn’t want to take the time to unlace my boots and shimmy them off, I went with option two, poking sporadic holes here and there until I was satisfied with how I looked.

  Checking the hall, I tipped my head toward the stage, realizing the contest had started. Some girl was currently butchering the Alicia Keys song, “Fallin’.”

  Hoping I had a minute to pop to the bathroom, I dashed down the hall away from my room and hurried to take care of my business. My name was halfway through the lineup on the roster tonight, so I was pretty sure I still had a while before it was my turn. But I hurried through the break anyway, smiling vaguely at a girl and her mom who were fussing over the sequins on her dance costume.

  It made me wish my own mom were here, but then everything would’ve been different if she’d shown up or even known about my big night. Suddenly, I wouldn’t be me anymore; I’d be her daughter.

  I knew she never meant for that to happen. She and Dad had always supported me and my sisters, making sure we had enough love and attention despite how busy they were with their careers. But that’s what came with fame. And tonight, I wanted to be selfish and earn my own spotlight under my own steam.

  After finishing my business and washing my hands, I hurried back toward my room, only to spot a woman wandering around as if lost. When our gazes caught, she smiled and stepped forward. “Hey there, darling. Do you think you could help me? I’m looking for Tucker Holt’s room.”

  As soon as she said his name, I noticed the resemblance. Same eyes, same color of light hair, same dimples. She had to be his mom.

  I smiled at her, feeling an instant affection, even though that made no sense. Tucker and I were by no means friends. Meeting his mom should have no effect on me whatsoever. But I said, “Sure,” and changed my course completely to lead her in the direction of where I knew his changing room was supposed to be. “He’s this way.”

  No idea why I’d committed his room assignment to memory; I certainly didn’t know where anyone else in the competition was waiting for their turn.

  Tucker might’ve gotten a little too close to the truth when he’d accused me of being obsessed with him. But I’d never let him know that.

  “I just wanted to tell him how proud I am of him,” his mom told me as she pulled a coin from her pocket and showed it off. “And maybe let him borrow my lucky penny.”

  I smiled warmly. “Aww, that’s so sweet. But I doubt he’ll even need it. He’s really talented.”

  She flashed me a grin that was pure Tucker. “He is, isn’t he? I don’t know where he got it; I can’t carry a tune to save my soul. But Tucker…” She shook her head, smiling tenderly, her eyes twinkling with love. “He’s loved to sing since he was just a little tot.”

  I nodded and pointed at her. “You know, they say kids who are raised happy and secure enough to feel comfortable singing at a young age can attribute it back to awesome parenting.”

  Actually, I had no idea who said that because I’d never really heard the sentiment before, but I thought it sounded good and would make her smile. Which it totally did.

  Her dimples flashed as she cupped my face and murmured, “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing? Thank you, baby.”

  Glowing a little under her praise, I nodded and motioned to the door I’d paused us in front of. “Here’s his room.”

  Turning to blink at his name written on a sheet of paper that was taped to the door, she jumped before laughing at herself. “Oh! Wow. Thanks again, sweetheart.”

  She turned back to me, studying my outfit before asking, “Are you singing tonight, too?”

  Without speaking, I nodded.

  She patted my arm. “Well, good luck to you. I’ll be looking forward to your performance.” Then she turned away and tapped on Tucker’s door, opening it when he called a greeting from inside.

  I started to turn back for my own room, but his mom didn’t quite get the door shut behind her, leaving it cracked open.

  It was totally wrong and intrusive, but I crept back to the crack and peeked in, unable to stop spying when I saw a portion of Tucker’s face when he spotted his mom. He lit up like a Christmas tree and opened his arms, calling her mama.

  Oh, Lord. How could he make himself look even hotter by merely saying mama? It was no fair.

  And so freaking adorable that my hormones melted into a puddle.

  She hugged him and then pulled back to cradle his face in her hands just like she’d done to me moments ago.

  “Yep,” she announced, looking him over. “You definitely look like a winner to me.”

  He smiled big before his expression fell and sadness entered his gaze.

  “I don’t know,” he said, pulling away from her to tug off his hat and run his hand through his pale hair. “There’s this girl. And she’s really good. I don’t think…” He sent his mom a rueful glance before admitting, “I don’t think I can beat her.”

  My heart stalled in my chest as I wondered…was he talking about me?

  It was one thing to have confidence in my own abilities and be satisfied enough with what I could do; but to hear Tucker praise me was a whole new sense of wonder. My skin buzzed with awareness, pleased more than I could admit that he recognized my talent.

  “Pshaw,” his mom scolded softly. “What is this I’m hearing? You’re good enough for me, and that’s all that matters. I just love listening to you play and sing. Everyone else will too, whether you win or not.”

  “I know,” he muttered moodily, turning away to pluck at a few stings on his guitar. “But…” His voice went low and muffled as he admitted, “We could really use that prize money.”

  Three

  Rory

  My mouth fell open and I pressed my hand to my chest as Tucker’s mom did something freakily similar inside his waiting room.

  Then she shook her head sadly and said, “Tucker Rawlings Holt, is that what this is about? The money?”

  Cringing, he turned back to face her. “Even you have to admit it’d be useful. I saw the notices in the mail, Mama, I’m not stupid. Just how far behind are we on the bills?”

  Refusing to answer, his mom shook her head and lifted a hand. “That is not your concern, baby. I will take care of any money issues in our house. You are not to worry yourself with—”

  “Not my concern?” Tucker cut in incredulously. “How can you say that to me? Ever since Dad left, abandoning us, you’ve said it was just the two of us, you and me in this together against the rest of the world. That sounds a lot like it should be my concern.”

  “Yes, but I meant it’d be just the two of us emotionally, not—”

  “Well, now I have a chance to maybe help out financially, so I’m going to…if I can.”

  “But you should use that money to save for college or—”

  “I’m already planning on taking out student loans for college, Mama.” Grasping her shoulders, he smiled at her before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But we need this money now, so I’m going to win it. For you.”

  Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head and covered her mouth. “I don’t know what I did to ever deserve a boy as amazing as you, but God blessed me when he sent you to me. He sure did. Here, baby. I want you to take my lucky penny.”

  As she held it out to him, I turned away and retreated to my own room, feeli
ng… I’m not even sure what I felt. But it was strange and foreign and big. At least the sensation filled my chest as if it were something major.

  I sat in the chair in my room numbly, saying nothing, doing nothing, just…thinking.

  I had something to prove tonight. I wanted to show the world I could do this without the Asher and Remy Hart or Non-Castrato name. This was supposed to be my origin story, dammit. How dare Tucker Holt come along with a nobler, less selfish motive than mine?

  Gah, he ruined everything.

  When someone tapped on my door, letting me know I was up next, I grabbed my guitar silently and followed the organizer backstage where, big surprise, Tucker was in the middle of playing, taking his turn right before me.

  I peeked at him from the side of the stage, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw him sitting on a single stool under the spotlight, his cowboy hat tipped down as he focused on his fingers that strummed the guitar. He played Garth Brooks’ “The Dance,” and he did it beautifully. Pride swelled in my chest. He didn’t make a single mistake. There were a couple points in the chorus where he could’ve been stronger, but for all accounts and purposes, he nailed it.

  When he finished, the crowd cheered, and his smile looked a little dazed and overwhelmed as he waved and bowed for them.

  Then he swiveled in my direction where I was waiting just offstage to take my turn. He started to exit, only to slow when his gaze met mine. Then his jaw tensed, he picked up his pace again, and nodded solemnly as he passed by.

  Drawing in a breath when the coordinator waved me forward, I glanced back at Tucker’s retreating back before I spun around and strode before the crowd.

  This was my night, dammit.

  I greeted everyone pleasantly and took a few moments to get my gear into position before moving to the mike and hovering my fingers over the strings.

  Then I exhaled and dove in, playing hard and confident from the get-go. Everything felt right; I had this competition in the bag. My voice was in perfect shape, and the notes flowed from my fingers like art.

  I was nearing the first chorus when I glanced over toward the sidelines and saw him in the shadows, watching me, devastation lining his features.

  He knew he couldn’t beat me.

  Heart rate kicking up, I faced the crowd again and missed a note, my voice going flat and then hoarse.

  I swallowed and returned to the song, only to botch another note a few lines later. But I kept on. Another mistake later, I could even see from the faces in the crowd that I was done and out of the running for first place. So I finished just as strongly and confidently as I’d started, smiling at everyone and nodding my thanks when they applauded, not as heartily as they had for Tucker, but still with impressive excitement.

  When I turned to exit the stage, Tucker was gone, thank God, because I wasn’t sure if I could face him right then or not.

  Returning to my room, I sat in silence, at peace with what I’d done. I could always make my start some other day. This definitely wasn’t the end for me.

  Once the competition was over and all the contestants were brought onto the stage to announce the finalists, I was actually surprised when I made it into the top five, along with Tucker and the dancer I’d seen getting ready with her mom in the bathroom. But it wasn’t until they called his name as the winner that I finally released a relieved breath.

  He’d actually done it. Thank God.

  Overwhelmed, he gazed around at the cheering crowd with wonder before his gaze sought mine. I lifted my eyebrows and tipped my head, silently commanding him to step up and accept his prize already. He lurched forward, and I smiled to myself as I watched his hand tremble when he reached out to accept the envelope and trophy being extended to him.

  From that point on, the rest of the contest was a blur. The host wrapped it up, and thanked everyone for coming, and the contestants scattered around me, hurrying off to find their families.

  I glanced back to spot Tucker between people as his mom found him, laughing and crying as she gave him the biggest hug ever.

  Nodding to myself, I started down the steps, only to nearly bump into my aunt and uncle along with Trick, who were waiting to congratulate me on placing in the top five.

  “Not too bad,” Trick told me, chucking me fondly in the shoulder. “I mean, I’d never seen you mess up so bad like you did on the—” He stopped talking and ducked when Aunt Eva slugged him in the arm.

  “You did great,” she insisted, turning to me and giving me a warm hug.

  “Thanks,” I said, accepting a hug from Uncle Pick next. “I’m just going to grab my things from the changing room, and I’ll meet you guys at the house, okay?”

  “Or we could take you out to eat,” Uncle Pick offered. “Celebrate your top five.”

  I shrugged before shaking my head. “No, that’s okay. I just…I don’t think I want to go out tonight.”

  “That’s completely fine,” Aunt Eva reassured me, squeezing both my hands before glancing at her husband and then telling me, “Well, you did awesome. Better than I could ever do.” As if realizing she was only making things worse, she cringed and hugged me again. “We’ll see you at home, Rory.”

  “Yeah. Bye.”

  I slumped back to my room and packed away my guitar. Then I sat there in silence a while before deciding I didn’t want to be here any longer. When I opened the door, the place seemed to have cleared out quite a bit. Good. That would make my walk of shame much more comfortable.

  I’d just cleared the back hall, and the exit came into sight when a shadowed form stepped into my path.

  “Excuse me,” I mumbled, starting to move around him distractedly until he blocked my way again.

  “Rory,” he said, tipping his face up just enough to let me see his face under the ball cap he wore.

  I met his green eyes and sighed out a breath before saying, “Dad.”

  Four

  Rory

  Dad’s lips twitched into a grin. “Hey, you. Where’s my hello hug?”

  Tears wavered in my eyes as I threw my arms around him and hugged him hard, breathing in his familiar scent. It’d been two months since I’d seen him in person. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him until he tucked me into his arms and kissed my hair.

  “Who told you?” I asked. “Uncle Pick?”

  He chuckled and ran his hand over my short, spiky hair, his gaze going regretful as he probably thought back to why it was so short now. “Who else?”

  I nodded, swallowing. “Anyone else with you? Mom? Ayden? Riley?”

  “Nah, it’s just me tonight. Mom had a thing with a new client at the studio. Ayden had voice practice, and Riley’s grounded for playing a prank at school.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “Do I even want to know what she did?”

  He shook his head. “Probably not. I’m more concerned with wanting to know why you couldn’t even bother to tell us you were going to play in a competition.”

  I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Because then you guys would want to be here, and—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, nodding his understanding. “Then we’d blow your cover and ruin the entire reason you’re here in the first place. I get it.”

  “I’m happy to see you, though,” I said, squeezing his arm. And I was. Happier than I could express.

  He hugged me again, only to pull away and arch an eyebrow. “So…you thought the cowboy should win, huh? You got a crush on him or something? Your mom would call him a cutie.”

  Blushing, I ducked my face and went to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, only to remember I didn’t have hair long enough to tuck, anymore. “Well…” I admitted. “He needed the prize money more than I did.”

  Dad nodded, his eyes watching me steadily. “You scared me there for a minute. I knew you never choked. I’ve seen you run on stage with your mother and me when you were only five and belt out a perfectly flawless performance. I was beginning to think you were sick or something until I saw the look y
ou two gave each other at the end, and then it finally clicked into place.”

  “Dad,” I groaned, wincing. “We did not give each other a look.”

  “You totally did,” he argued on a laugh. “That boy likes you. And I think you like him back.”

  Rolling my eyes, I bumped my arm into his before saying, “He hates Non-Castrato.”

  As easygoing as my father was, he merely shrugged and kept smiling. “Hey, we’re not for everyone. He clearly prefers a different genre, which is fine. He was good, though. And I could tell he really loves what he does. You think he’d be interested in making a record? If we clean up his sound a little, I think Hart Productions might just have our next top country singer.”

  “Really?” I asked, my eyebrows perking. “You think he has that much promise?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Dad answered. He started to say more, only to shift his gaze over my shoulder. Something glinted in his gaze before he murmured, “Well…speak of the devil.”

  I turned, only to back into my dad when I saw Tucker hesitantly approaching us. Tearing his gaze from mine, Tucker eyed my dad, as if not sure what to say to him.

  So Dad reached past me, sticking out his hand. “Hey there. I’m Rory’s father. Congratulations on your win tonight, son. You did awesome.”

  Tucker nodded respectfully and shook with Dad. “Thank you, sir.” His gaze moved to me, and his voice softened as he said, “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”

  My brow furrowed with question as I gave an uncertain, “Uh...”

  I glanced up at my dad.

  “Oh!” he said as if catching on. “Okay. I, uh…I’ll just be over here.” Dad pointed to the side and moved away to give me and Tucker a bit of privacy. We watched him find a chair about thirty feet away, where he sat and pulled his phone from his pocket to occupy himself.

  Not sure what Tucker wanted to say, I turned back to him nervously. He wasn’t throwing out any insults, so it made me think he had something serious on his mind.