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“You think they’ll believe me. Eve, you’re better off letting it go. Do you think all these bikers are staying away from you because of Hallow? Not with you and him split up. It causes as much trouble for me as it does you but the rumors work to your favor.”
Speechless. I’d not thought about it like that.
“You should thank Paisley,” he said.
“You think she’s behind it.”
“Paisley feeds off all the drama here. She creates a good deal of it too. But I’ve come to find she’s imaginative. She might even think this shit is real. You know she thinks she can see shit.”
Bobbing, I knew Paisley claimed to see auras and the like. Thought she was a witch or something.
Kingpin went on, “Anyway, there ain’t nothing we can say that will change their minds. Folks will come to their own conclusions. The club will see the truth in time. Everything comes out in the wash.”
“Are you sure there ain’t anything we can do?” I asked, racking my brain for a solution.
“You and I ain’t had a practice section all month. I don’t even think we’ve spoken, have we?”
“Not really. Not at any length.”
“Frankly, I miss it. Singing, that is. We’ll bring the house down tonight, Angel.” Kingpin winked at me as he left.
Exhaling, I groaned. The man treated everyone the same. The winks, calling them love, or in my case, Angel, but it was me everyone swore he was sweet on.
Chapter 8
Eve
That night as I got ready to sing with Kingpin, I wondered if Hallow would show. Making sure to look my best, I put on more makeup than usual. After all, I needed to be seen in the harsh lights. Then I cried and ruined it all. I had to paint my face again. Instead of being miserable, I decided to let a fury take over.
I had no idea what I would wear so I grabbed my wedding gown. I still had the stupid thing at Royal Road with me. I hadn’t left the clubhouse since my falling out with Hallow. Because, I had nowhere else to go. I’d given up my life for the man and didn’t have a pot to piss in. I planned to change all that. I’d been saving up. Tonight’s performance would help.
Putting on my white lace wedding gown, I took the scissors and sliced into the skirt. Staring at the gash, I knew there was no going back. I made my wedding gown into a knee length dress for this performance. Paired with a light blue jean jacket and my cowboy boots, it was fucking perfect.
Fuck Hallow.
We had a packed house. I’d been singing to our largest crowd without any coaching for well over a month. So, I wasn’t nervous about the folks that gathered before me as I adjusted my mic. But the jitters were there all the same since Hallow sat in the bar, watching me.
Bringing his guitar, Kingpin joined me on the stage. We’d be singing most of the songs together. Prez would show me up, for sure. He had just as much talent as his brother with a lot more passion and energy in his voice. More than that, he was completely comfortable doing anything he damn well pleased here at his own establishment. He was a great partner, though, knowing just when to inject some charm. So, we had a blast, with Loretta Lynn’s and Conway Twitty’s, “You’re The Reason Our Kids Are Ugly”.
It reminded me of how Wolf and his ex-wife would sing together at Bootsies. And during “Save A Horse (Ride a Cowboy)”, Kingpin had me do the part that would make more sense for him. I was Big and he was Rich. I could barely sing for laughing. Rome took care of the guitar solo like no one’s business. The rest of my band consisted of one fiddle player, Ember. A sweet girl, I hoped didn’t hang out at the club. I’d not seen her around when we weren’t playing. Then there was a drummer called Specks because of his ever-changing glasses. He used to play on Lower Broad. I’d seen him around. Couldn’t miss him. He’d become a prospect like Rome, but I suspected he was here for the men. A talented sweetbutt named Cali played bass, horns, and keyboard, depending. I’d seen her with Hallow before, so I had my reservations about her that I set aside every time we were on stage together. Dimple, filled in for the rest, like an Elvis shaped putty.
Our setlist was a glorious mix of old and new, country and not. Singing, “Make You Feel My Love”, I almost lost it. Thankfully, they weren’t all love songs. Changing over to Alan Jackson and Jimmy Buffet’s “It’s Five-o-clock Somewhere”, I could control myself. I didn’t quite care for the song, but it was a crowd favorite even at well past five. I’d have to suffer through some other favorites, “Give Me All Your Lovin’” and “Sweet Home Alabama.” If it wasn’t a duet, Kingpin played his guitar or the piano while I sang like during my cover of “Midnight Rider” by the Allman Brothers Band. Because of course we had to play music the bikers wanted to hear. I’d become accustomed to covering favorites at Bootsies, but one day I wanted to sing something of my own.
We’d switch back to something that affected me. Like Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper’s “Shallow”, but I had to concentrate so much on hitting those notes I couldn’t think of Hallow. I was no Lady Gaga, but Kingpin gave the fella a run for his money. Some of the selections seemed silly, like the Cure’s “Just Like Heaven”. But Kingpin insisted his brother would want to cover something similar, something from the eighties. Never mind the fiddle made the song completely different. As it was, the famous Beau Strick would not hear us since we hadn’t performed it when we planned.
Belting out our rendition of Noah Cyrus’s “Dear August” kicked me in the gut. After all, August was Hallow’s for real name, August Adam Hart. I’d picked the song just for that way back when Hallow and I were more than okay. When we were planning a wedding. Before I’d really listened to the damn thing. As I strummed and hummed, the song eerily echoed my current state. Lonely for well over a month, I’d had nothing but long sleepless nights. Without him, my world turned dark. I wondered if there was any way Hallow and I could get to the end of this. If we’d get our happily ever after. But more and more, it seemed like the road I traveled with him was ending.
I chanted the chorus looking at anyone but Hallow who’d crept closer and sat in a corner near the stage. My heart shattered into pieces at the sight of him. His face, still bruised and swollen, was a stark reminder of our battered bond. Kingpin’s eyes stayed on me. His gaze was the only thing holding me up as he sang the other feller’s part. I knew it was just part of our training, something I no longer needed. Kingpin sang to me, and I knew it was just all part of our act, but what would everyone else think? More importantly what would Hallow think? After that song, I made a cutting motion to our Prez.
He stepped in close, too close, placing his hands on my arms and leaning in so I could whisper in his ear.
“I’m doing the last song alone,” I strained, hoping he wouldn’t argue.
He didn’t. “Take five.”
As Dimple started in with Elvis’s “Too Much”, we took a much-needed break. I needed to dry my eyes. Kingpin went to his woman and his posse, drinking, and cracking beer bottles on one another. That wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Royal Road wasn’t just some dive bar. But the lush surroundings of the casino didn’t matter when the President decided to celebrate. And after all, it was all part of the show. The patrons there came to see some action, in any case. It’d be cleaned up straight away so no one who mattered got hurt.
I rushed to the ladies’ room, took care of business as quick as I could, washed my hands and began fixing my makeup. Sky’s dark hair appeared in the mirror. If she were a snake, she’d have bit me. From the scowl she wore, she hadn’t liked what she just witnessed. The girl didn’t realize our performance was all an act. The chemistry Kingpin and I had on stage wasn’t at all real. It was nothing but good show business meant to sell me as a serious vocalist.
