He picks up his phone and points at me with it. “If you believed in love, you’d love me.”
I give Dash a dirty look to shut him up, while Hadley sullenly says, “Jared, don’t… I wish you wouldn’t think like that,”
I roll my eyes. “Not everyone can be…like you and Finn, Hadley. Just stop with it already.”
“You can’t just give up.”
I breathe in a tolerant breath. “How can I give up when I never even participated? I’m fine.”
Hadley’s quiet, and surprisingly, so is Dash, except for giving me fucked-up directions.
Fifteen minutes later, he at last says, “Turn down there and pull into the lot.”
“This place?”
“Yeah…”
“Oceanic?” Hadley asks, reading the teal, neon sign emblazed across the front.
“What the hell is it?” The building is a faded, red brick with the name of a bread factory in chipped, white and black paint across the middle. The sides of the building are flooded with blue light, pointing down from the roof. The parking lot is surrounded by a brick and wrought iron fence.
Holy fuck. I’m going to murder Dash Calder.
I say, “It’s a damn club.”
Dash corrects me. “It’s an old factory.”
“How in the hell is that better?”
“It’s been converted into a club.”
I glower at the building as I drive through the lot. “It looks too…upbeat.”
“Live a little, Jericho. Park here.”
“That threat to run you over with my car is good for shit like this, too.”
“Come on. Rio will be meeting us here.”
“Yeah, and he’s going to want to help me kick your ass.”
When we’re all standing in the parking lot, I lock my car as Dash says, “What about you, Finn? Are you willing to give it a try?”
He shrugs and grabs my sister’s hand. “If they have Jack Daniels, I don’t care about the décor.”
“Great!” Dash says, looking around the lot. “I don’t see Rio yet, so let’s go in.”
People are hanging by the door, crowding the entrance, laughing and shouting to each other. Christ. I feel too old for this shit. We have to work our way through to get into the building. A remixed disco song grates my ears as we follow Dash inside, and once in, we’re all floored by what we see. It’s as if we walked into one of those walk-thru aquariums at a zoo. The floors are a polished, light blue that is lit by lights with a wavy filter on them, making it appear as if we’re walking through water. The walls are stone, but the room is filled with polished oak woodwork, including the massive bar with wooden columns rising to the rusted, steel I-beams overhead, leaving some of the former industrial aspects in the design, which I can appreciate. An open staircase with oak banisters leads upstairs. There are pictures on the walls and statues of marine life everywhere.
“Let’s go to the third floor. We’re supposed to have a table reserved for us.”
Looking at the stairwell, I ask, “Why? What’s up there? I’m not dancing.”
Dash leads us through the crowd. “Dancing is on the second floor, and it’s Retro Saturday.”
“You’ve been here before?”
“No, but I know one of the managers, and he filled me in about the layout and shit.” Not surprising.
We go up the stairs, past the considerable, blue-marbled dance floor, and up to the third floor straight into a lobby, before entering a lounge-type room where there are tables along the perimeter of a minor dance floor, a smaller version of the bar on the first floor, and at the front of the room…a stage. Behind the stage is a large screen TV hanging in front of a metallic, blue curtain. What the fuck is this shit? I turn to Hadley and Finn behind me, who look as perplexed as I do.
Dash nods and waves to a guy behind the bar, talking on a phone. Smiling back, he puts up his index finger as he says something over the counter to a waitress, and nodding at us. The blonde waitress makes her way through the crowd and over to our group. “Hi! Follow me!” she shouts over the crowd noise. She takes us to a dimly lit, curved booth that is roped off with Reserved.
She says, “I’m Marcy. Here are some sign up forms for the stage and that little book in the middle of your table lists all the songs we have. There’s usually an hour wait between performances in the rotation, depending if people actually take their turns, so it could be shorter. Just hand me the slips when I come around and I’ll let you know when it’s your turn. Got it?”
Dash nods, but the rest of us sit, dumbstruck. She asks, “What can I get everyone to drink?” Dash is proactive and hands her his ID, which she still looks doubtful that it’s not fake.
“Wait. Performances for what?”
“Karaoke,” she answers like I’m the stupidest person ever, which I am for trusting Dash not to be a fucking idiot.
I shake my head. “I am not doing that.”
She says, “You don’t have to.”
“Jericho, just have fun.” Right. I can’t even drink this bullshit away.
“Hey, Beckett.”
I look over to see Rio and beside him, his wench, who’s wearing goddamned pigtails and a short, yellow dress that would serve better as a shirt on an infant.
Fucking great.
She waves and says, “Hi, Jared.”
With Rio watching me, I swiftly nod at her, but avoid direct eye contact; therefore, I don’t catch what she does in response.
Bitch.
I say to Rio, “Finally, you decide to join us.”
Rio steps aside for his keeper to take a seat, and she answers for him, “I had to work overtime. Sorry.”
This early in the night, I refrain from rolling my eyes at that excuse or for her stupid pigtails. I’ll save it for later.
Rio scowls at the stage and then at Calder. “What the hell, Douche? Karaoke?”
I scoff, “You didn’t know?”
Rio’s eyebrows pucker and he dryly frowns. “You really think this would’ve been my idea of a relaxing Saturday night?”
We both shake our heads at Dash, making introductions. Hadley and Liberty start yakking about the clothes they’re wearing, in which Hadley complains about the ordinary jeans she wore, since she didn’t know to bring different clothes. I could use that nail gun right about now.
Finn surveys the room—probably for fans of his show, Dash checks his phone—for the 50th time, and Rio blankly stares off into space—most likely wishing for a nail gun of his own.
Okay. I’m ready to leave.
Marcy returns, and since Rio and I are the designated bitches, he orders a pop and I stick with fucking iced tea.
Our seats in the booth are set back from the table, so there’s room for us to walk around it, without climbing over people. I lean forward and say to Calder, “You’re the only one who’s going to get up there, so what was the point of this?”
He asks, “Hadley and Finn, are you going to do this?”
Making a face, Finn says, “Uh, no.”
Hadley laughs and shakes her head.
Setting down his phone, Dash picks up a piece of paper and asks, “What song are we going to sing?”
“We?” Rio clarifies with a dirty look.
Sighing, Dash nods. “Yeah. We. You, Jericho, and me. We can do a group song.”
Rio indignantly laughs. “No way. I’ll sit here and watch the rest of you make asses out of yourselves. That’s entertainment enough for me.”
Agreeing with Rio, I say, “No fucking way.”
Dash says to Duquesne, “Well, you could always sing Duran Duran’s ‘Rio.’ Get it?”
Rio narrows his eyes. “No, Douche. That reference was way beyond my comprehension.”
I say, “Dash, next time, use those wooden letter blocks to spell it out for him to avoid the confusion.” Rio rolls his eyes at me, and I grin.
“I’ll do a song,” Rio’s wench announces, running her fingers through one of her blonde tails. “I just need t
o have some drinks first.”
“Anyone else? Dash asks, looking to the rest of us, but something catches his eye and he sucks in his lips to ineffectually hide a smile. What the hell now?
I demand, “Calder, what’s so funny?”
He jumps up and shakes his head. “Don’t start without me. Give me a minute.”
As he disappears amongst people, I ask Rio, “So, what song does Calder want to sing?”
Rio grins and reaches for the book. “Oh, please. Let me.”
Leaning forward, I clasp my hands together. “Hurry up before he gets back.”
He flips through the book until a slow grin spreads over his face. “Perfect,” Rio proclaims. Liberty watches as he writes something down and she laughs.
“He’s going to kill you, River.”
“Not a chance in Hell. Douche owes us.” He shrugs. “And I could kick his ass in my sleep.”
“Only if you’re not laughing too much,” I throw at him. Rio glowers at me, but it only makes me laugh as I sit back, crossing my ankle over my knee, as well as my arms over my chest.
Rio hands the papers to the waitress as she brings us our drinks and I ask, “What’d you pick?”
“You’ll have to wait and see. I’ll piss my pants if he sings that song. I doubt he does it, though.”
“Oh, he will if he knows what’s good for him.”
“Tag team.” Rio nods and we grin at each other.
“Check out what I found hanging around the bar.”
Looking up, I see Dash, and standing next to him, Kat Merrick. Her purple-striped hair is piled on top of her head, and she’s wearing a gray, short-sleeved, button-up top that isn’t so buttoned up, and a short, black and red pinstriped, pleated skirt.
Holy fuck.
What the hell is she doing here? Damn it, Dash!
Wait a damn minute. Are they…together?
I’ll tear out his esophagus and tie it around his neck like a fucking bowtie.
CHAPTER 11
“Can I sit here?” she asks as I gawk at her.
“Jericho, move over.”
Shaking my head slightly, I numbly move and she sits down next to me.
“Thanks,” she says with a frail smile to me, and then turning to everyone with a warmer version. “Hi.”
As Dash introduces Kat and she shifts to get more comfortable, her perfume slaps me across the face—the same fucking one she used to wear in high school. I’ll never forget that scent—a mix of flowers and pure Katriona Merrick. So many times, I had imagined burying my nose against her throat just to smell her, and so many times, I’ve used that scenario for fuel in the shower.
“You and Jared look so much alike,” Kat tells my sister, brushing her leg against mine as she angles herself toward Hadley. “Sorry,” she quickly says to me, jerking her legs away. That move reminds me of how she didn’t want me to touch her during the last few months of my senior year, hitting me harder than I had anticipated, and I’m left speechless.
“He used to be my little brother,” Hadley replies with a laugh. “Jared, Kat told me earlier at her mom’s that you had a class together in school?”
I stiffly nod as I stare at the round, wooden table. I forgot that Hadley would’ve met Kat today. How much did they talk about me?
Liberty takes a karaoke sign-up paper and says, “Kat, we should sign up now, since there’s a wait. We can have some drinks before then.”
She weakly nods. “Okay.”
Rio’s warden goes on to say, “I have the best song. Hadley, do you want to do it with us?”
Hadley rapidly shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’ll dance, but not sing.” She asks Finn, “You’ll dance with me, won’t you?”
He makes a sour face. “No, but I’ll watch.”
“That’s no fun,” she pouts.
Finn smiles, pushing his leg into hers. “For me, it will be.” Don’t they fucking ever get enough of each other?
Dash says, “Kat, come on. Help me out. Do a song with me.”
“I’ll have to be liquored up first.”
Dash angles his head, looking over at the bar, and says, “I’ll be back.”
Clearing my throat, I attempt speaking again, asking Kat, “So, Dash asked you to come here?”
She plays with her small, silver hoop earring and avoids eye contact with me. “Yeah. My brother is a manager here. He’s right there in the green dress shirt.” When I take a second look at the guy behind the bar, now talking to Dash, I recognize him more from when he was in our school’s band, and how I chickened out asking him more about his sister.
She hesitates asking, “Do… Do you mind me being here?”
I shrug with my right shoulder, which is closest to her. “Why would I? I don’t have coffee, though. Are you going to mess with my iced tea instead?” Why did I say that? I sound as petty as what she did.
Kat ruefully smiles, her eyes lifting to my face, but I can’t look away from her lightly glossed lips. “I’m sorry about that. It was only salt. I didn’t poison you.”
Still distracted, I blandly say, “That’s good to know.”
Kat glances down to her lap, and we sit in a wooden silence until she softly says, “It was stupid to do. I was just… Jared, it’s been so long since I’ve seen or talked to you. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Staring at a purple streak on the side of her head, I swallow through my tightening throat and dryly answer, “I’m not.” Not about the coffee, at least.
“Are you sure? You didn’t want to talk to me after you remembered who I was.”
“I didn’t recognize you. Big difference. You even told me a different last name.”
She shrugs, not yet facing me again. “You wouldn’t have remembered me anyway.”
“Not true.” Kat looks up, meeting my gaze. Fuck. I’m saying way too much.
Now, I’m the one who looks away, feeling her eyes on me.
“Then why have you been avoiding me?” She sounds…sad? Why? She’s the one who didn’t care.
As I scan the stage, not watching or listening to the people on it, I evenly answer, “I’ve been busy at your mom’s.”
“Well, I hope you’re not mad. We have so much to catch up on, Sonic.”
That was unexpected.
Unwillingly glancing back to her face, I can’t escape from smiling at the sound of her calling me that again, and Kat matches me with one of her own. As my smile turns into a small laugh, she nudges me with her arm, and it surprises me.
She asks, “Did you think I forgot I used to call you that?”
Feeling inept, I’m clueless as to what to say. “Uh, I guess you didn’t forget.”
Kat smiles and her faux blue eyes snare mine, causing me to stare into them a little too long, trying to see into the beautiful brown they used to be. When I realize I’m staring, I hurriedly look back to the stage, frowning at my idiocy.
She puts her hand on my arm and asks, “So, are you going to get up there on stage?” Barely hearing the question, I glance at her hand as the memory of her touching me at my locker on my 17th birthday floods my mind. Even though I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt this time, it still does things to me, which makes me want to do things to her.
Taking a subtle deep breath to calm myself first, I answer, “No way. Are you?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“If Calder has anything to do with it, you’ll be up there.”
Taking her hand back, Kat shrinks somewhat with an anxious smile. “Ugh. You’re probably right.”
I chuckle and fleetingly look around, forgetting that there are people watching us. I catch Hadley as she puts her hand on Finn’s leg, whispering something to him. Finn briefly glances at me, smirking. My sister is definitely talking about me. What the fuck did I do now?
Dash, grinning, returns to our table with our waitress in tow. “Compliments of Pete,” she says as she places a tray of shots on the table. Noticing there are way too many, I swiftly take Rio’s and Dash�
��s, swigging them back in a rush, letting the alcohol happily buzz my thoughts.
“What the hell, DD?” Dash shouts.
“Don’t you know that revenge is best served in a shot glass?”
“Fine,” he concedes, shaking his head in mock disgust as our waitress returns again with our drink order. He knew he had this coming.
“Good. Switch me drinks then, designated bitch.”
Finn downs his shot and Hadley’s, so I’m not the only one taking advantage of the free alcohol.
Kat reaches for a glass, tipping it fast. Setting it on the tray, she says, “We need more.”
I grin at her. “Now, you’re talking.” A loud windbag starts wailing into the microphone, so I have to shout, “Dash, go get us some more booze!”
Kat stands. “I got them. My brother owes me some favors.” I watch her leave, not only checking her out, but also wishing she weren’t leaving, even if this time is temporary…for now.
Her scent still lingers, persistently assaulting me, but I can’t stop inhaling it, and reveling in the nostalgic torment.
Breaking my trance, Dash says, “You can thank me later, Jericho!”
Turning, I glare at him. “Slick move, Calder!”
He throws his hands out, unable to blink while lamely suppressing a smile. “What?” He’s a horrible actor.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I invited a friend here. So? You seem to like that she’s here!”
As I harden my gaze and tighten my fists, from the other side of me, Hadley says, “Jared, Kat is so nice. She said you used to be friends with her.”
I mumble the obligatory, “We were driver’s ed. partners. That’s all.”
Liberty butts in, “I love her hair! She’s so pretty!” Liberty would be somewhat pretty, too, if I didn’t hate her face so much.
The screeching broad finishes her song. Over the hooting, I curtly shout, “Thanks! I didn’t notice!”
Her eyes grow larger than her dress. “You should ask her on a date!” Isn’t being here a forced one, really?
With a riled look at my best friend, warning him to control the bitch, I growl, “River…”
He leans forward, returning my glower. “Jare…”
As we unfalteringly eyeball each other, Liberty carries on, “You and Kat would look good together, if you’re nice to her.”
The Keys to Jericho Page 16