Outlaw Country

by Davida Lynn

  Colton was sitting on the gravel, his back to the wall of Muscle Shoals Sound Studio. He had a legal pad in his hand, and he was scribbling furiously. His mouth moved, but Gracie couldn’t pick out the words. She wanted to watch him for eternity. She was aware of the Colton Wade on stage; he was in his element then. What she saw in front of her was a different kind of beautiful. That powerful creation was happening right before her eyes. Gracie was often disillusioned with songwriting when she did it, but Colton made the songwriting process seem so powerful and mysterious again. She was dying to see what he was scribbling on the paper.

  Colton looked up at her, and Gracie felt like she had been caught spying on the neighbor. “Sorry, I’ll...I’ll be inside.”

  “Nah, grab an acoustic and get the hell back out here.” His voice had no hints of suggestion.

  Gracie spun on her heels to grab the first six-string she could find.

  Colton watched the hem of her dress rise as she turned. He groaned and told himself never to forget those long, tanned legs beneath the white dress. They were screaming at him to release them from what little fabric was keeping them from being free.

  He looked down at the messiest words he’d ever spewed. They were rough, raw, and he liked them that way. Words that would normally take him weeks of agonizing had come in a matter of minutes, and they couldn’t be changed. Any edit or replacement would only shatter the image painted on the glass.

  The door opened, and Gracie’s Hummingbird Martin came into view. The woman who had sparked something inside of him followed. He scrawled chords across the top of the lyrics. He heard them in his head, and he already knew how it would sound. The music wasn’t anything complicated, but Colton’s songs never sounded lush until The Guilty Party got ahold of them. He knew this case would be no different.

  Fifteen minutes later, Colton and Gracie walked back into the studio. They had run through the song a few times; enough for both to get their parts. As they came into the small studio, Colton was easing Gracie’s nerves, “Nah, the band will pick it up in a heartbeat. You’ll make your interview.”

  Kathleen spoke up, “Actually, I got the journalist to come here. I know a good thing when I hear it.”

  Within a half hour, Gracie Hart and Colton Wade with the Guilty Party had a decent take of “Standin’ Next To Destiny”. It was rough and tumble like Derrick Trucks sitting in with the Rolling Stones. Roger and Kathleen were talking about distribution strategies before the final note finished ringing out.

  When they stepped out of the vocal booth, the reporter and photographer were waiting. What was scheduled to be an interview with Gracie Hart turned into an interview with her and Colton together.

  The photographer noted that the two looked perfect together. Outside of Muscle Shoals Sounds, she had them lean against the brick wall. Kathleen didn’t like Gracie’s head on Colton’s shoulder, but the manager inside of her was beating out the mother. She knew it would be just a shot for the single cover and nothing more. Her heart pounded, but Kathleen Hart clenched her hands and bared it.

  Roger’s heart raced. He knew Colton was on the precipice of something big. One tip in the right direction, and he’d reach a level of stardom like most only dream of. A hit single with Gracie Hart could be just the ticket. He didn’t particularly care where Colton’s hands were. The single was about finding love right in front of you, with Colton’s trademark wit and innuendo icing the entire cake, so he wanted the two singers to look like they were all over each other.

  Colton’s manager was already prepared to get the rumor out that the two were an item, and he’d leak a few cell shots of his own to prove it. The photographer was snapping away and getting plenty of juicy shots, which would only fuel the fire.

  His phone buzzed, and Roger headed back towards the front of the building. “Yeah, Ar. Good news, I hope?”

  Colton couldn’t help himself. They were in the perfect pose; there was no way the photographer could miss it. He timed it so his hand was on Gracie’s ass the moment the camera clicked. He had a ten-dollar smile on his face as Colton Wade grabbed Gracie’s ass and gave it a nice squeeze.

  “All right, we’re done here!” Her mother stepped in and grabbed Gracie by the arm. “Jesus, do you have any manners at all, or are you just some tattooed, Id-driven man-child?”

  Colton laughed so hard he had to crouch down. He pulled off the sunglasses and wiped a tear away. “Couldn’t help it, ma’am.” He put his hands up. “Truce. Truce. You and me both know we gotta sell this record, and in my experience, sex sells. You got a better marketing strategy?”

  Kathleen pulled her daughter towards the Mercedes M Class. “You think we need this?” She called back to Colton, who couldn’t make the smile go away. “You need this, and you just lost it. Come on, Gracie.”

  Colton was still chuckling when Roger came back from his phone call. He looked around. The photographer and reporter were trying to look anything but awkward. Colton had a case of the giggles, and Gracie and her mother were gone. “What the hell happened?”

  As the SUV kicked up gravel and sped off, Colton shrugged. “Oh, you know how women are.”

  Colt could almost see the dollar signs in Roger’s eyes vanishing. The manager walked straight up to Colton and stared him down. “God dammit, Colton. Are you just trying to do everything you can to not succeed?”

  “What’s it matter? We got damn near a whole album’s worth of material recorded in one day. She goes her way, I go mine, and that bitch of a mother don’t have to worry about me getting my hand up little Gracie Hart’s skirt.”

  Colton dug his cigarettes out of his pocket, his hangover making a triumphant return.

  Roger stood there staring for a few seconds. He’d seen Colton do some stupid things, but this one was the first that might actually shoot him in the foot. “What’s it matter? What’s it fucking matter? I just got off the phone with the label. You know, your record label? The very same record label that also happens to have one Gracie Hart. While you couldn’t keep your hands off of her, I was talking the label into putting you two on tour together.”

  The singer lit up as he shook head. “Nah, that ain’t a good idea. I don’t think Gracie’ll be allowed out for a play date anytime soon.”

  “It was a fantastic idea.” Roger didn’t care who heard him screaming at his client. “Right up until you started playing grab ass. The deal’s done. We’re shifting around both your touring schedules. In a week’s time, we’re hitching onto a rocket ship.”

  Colton’s ego was almost big enough to need its own tour bus. “Whatever moves product, man.”

  “This isn’t even about product, Colton. This is about the rest of your life. How long you really think you can keep up the drinkin’ and partyin’? I know you haven’t saved a dime that you’ve earned.”

  He knew he had made his manager mad. Roger was from New York City, but when he let his guard down, a little bit of Southern influence came through. Colton didn’t feel like answering.

  “Colton, you got a play nice. I mean it. Apologize, send flowers. Whatever you gotta do to make this right, you do it. I’m not going on some tense tour with them for two months because you can’t keep it in your pants.”

  Kathleen had a death grip on the steering wheel. Her daughter had tried everything to try and smooth over what happened, but it just wasn’t working. She couldn’t forget the image of that filthy, little, redneck pervert’s hands on her daughter’s behind.

  “Mother, he was just playing around. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

  She couldn’t look at her daughter, but Kathleen nodded vigorously. “Didn’t mean anything by it. He meant a whole lot by it. You know the only good thing about Colton Wade? You found out what a sleaze he was on day one instead of two months into another wasted relationship.”

  Gracie and Kathleen rarely went after each other, but her daughter couldn’t help but snap back. “What do you know about relationships? Besides hovering right next to mine, that
is.”

  Kathleen stewed. She let the silence linger so that her daughter could let her hurtful words rattle around in her young mind. “Mom, I-”

  Her apology was cut off by Kathleen raising a hand. Kathleen didn’t turn to look at her daughter as she tried to blink away the tears.

  For a few miles the two traveled in silence. Kathleen’s work phone buzzed, stirring both Hart women from their anger.

  Kathleen reached for the phone without turning. She didn’t want to catch a look from her daughter in that moment. After some fumbling, she pulled the phone to her ear, giving her best professional voice, she said, “Kathleen Hart.”

  Kathleen snuck a peek, and her anger flared when Gracie slid those damn buds in her ears. “I don’t care what you’ve heard about the session today. We won’t take one more picture with that juvenile. Not one more interview, not even so much a damn mention. When I tell you what he did, you’ll-”

  As someone in PR from Gracie’s record label cut Kathleen off, she almost broke. A good yell might do her some good, and some faceless desk jockey was as good as anyone else. Her muscles tensed, and Kathleen groaned in preparation.

  Before the waterfall of swears could pour forth, Kathleen was caught completely off-guard. In that moment, she heard the worst news imaginable. Kathleen filled with fury. Fury at Colton, his manager, Gracie, and herself. She had let it happen. She had agreed to the duet in the first place.

  “Please tell me there is some other option. What about a music video?” Kathleen was desperate. Anything would be better. Something short was the best option. The motherly side of Kathleen’s brain was winning out over the managerial side. She knew there was money to be made, but no amount was worth letting Colton near Gracie again. The label was dead-set.

  The faceless voice from Moonshine Records spoke, “It’s already been decided. The two will go on tour together immediately.

  She let out a resolute sigh. “How long?” Kathleen knew there was no fighting something as big as Gracie Hart and Colton Wade. Ads would be so easy to come up with: Yin and Yang. Black and White. The bad boy and the good girl. The last was the one that worried Kathleen the most. She had seen Colton’s eyes all over her daughter.

  “Indefinitely.”

  “Are you serious? The entire tour?” Kathleen was dangerously close to pulling over to the side of the road. Her hands trembled, and she needed to count to ten and try to vanquish some of the stress.

  Nodding through the details, Kathleen said, “Fine. Fine. Send me the updated tour itinerary.” She knew the man on the other end had more information for her, but she hung up. Kathleen couldn’t take anymore.

  She flicked the turn signal indicator up and glanced to the right, past her daughter. Traffic was clear, so Kathleen came to a stop on the gravel shoulder and put the Mercedes into park.

  Leaning forward, Kathleen put her head on the steering wheel. With the engine off, she could hear Gracie’s music blasting. Emmylou, maybe? Whoever it was, the music was too damn loud. Gracie would go deaf before she could even rent a car.

  Without looking, Kathleen reached over and yanked one of the buds from Gracie’s ear.

  “Hey!” Her daughter squealed in surprise. “What the hell?”

  “What the hell. What the fucking hell!” Kathleen wasn’t yelling at Gracie or even herself, but there was rage inside of her that needed to be released.

  “Mom, what’s up?” There was concern in Gracie’s voice. Concern and a hint of fear.

  Kathleen forced herself up from the steering wheel. She looked into her Daughter’s eyes. She wasn’t upset at Gracie anymore. She was worried for her daughter’s career, her future, but most of all, Kathleen was worried for her daughter’s purity.

  “The tour is now you and Colton as a double bill.”

  Colton had played festivals with nearly fifty thousand people in the crowd, but somehow the roar was louder this time. Twenty thousand less, and the roar was still louder and more powerful. He was awestruck as he stood just off stage in the stadium. The sound bounced around and came at the performers like a jet screaming past. All of that sound, and it was just for his and Gracie’s bands coming onstage.

  She nodded to him, and the two of them walked on at the same time. He actually felt nervous. Maybe it was the huge crowd, maybe it was the way their cheers went absolutely insane the second he and Gracie stepped into the spotlights, or maybe it was just how much was riding on that night’s show.

  Colton had played nice, just as had Roger demanded. He apologized to Gracie over the phone, although it was his way of getting her personal number. He tried to apologize to her ma, but she wasn’t having any of it. In the leadup, he’d been a good boy in interviews. He’d cut back on the drinking and the partying, and even though no one asked, Colton hadn’t snatched up a single groupie since Muscle Shoals.

  The lights were brighter than they had been during the warmup. Colton had been able to see into some of the stadium seating while he and Gracie sang to an empty house. They were beating down on him, making him wonder how quickly he’d soak through his wife beater and snap-up cowboy shirt.

  He forced a smile onto his face and tried to push the nerves away. Some nervous energy was good, but too much could have you forgetting a lyric or just a bit too unsteady on your feet. Colton tried to control his breathing as he and Gracie weaved around all the band members on stage. Between her four and his six, there was a maze of people, cables, and instruments to navigate past.

  Gracie got to the microphone first, since the first song had Colton playing guitar. He slung it over his shoulders and turned to the huge crowd. Because of the lights, he could only see Gracie in front of him. All I really wanted to see, anyway.

  She wore cowboy boots beneath a light blue sundress, and the red bow barrette in her hair made Colton shake his head. Gracie had gotten under his skin so easy and so fast. He couldn't stop thinking about her. It had been a chore to resist bombarding her with texts or calls, but he had to play it cool.

  The band kicked off the first song, the duet of “Jackson”. The Internet buzz must have been powerful because the crowd went crazy as the chicken pickin’ of Colton’s lead guitarist and brother, Kitt, blasted from the speakers. He couldn’t believe it.

  Gracie’s fanbase was barely out of their teens, and they were screaming their heads off for a single that hadn’t even been released. A cover of a forty-year-old song, to boot. A great, wide smile came across Colton’s face as he pictured the money rolling in.

  Not from “Jackson”, but from all the new fans. The money from the duet was going to cancer or some disaster relief or some shit. Colton never bothered to ask. He didn’t care all that much if the cash wasn’t going into his pocket. If the band put on a good show, he’d gain thousands of new fans over the tour. That meant merch sales, digital plays, and CDs sold. All of that on top of “Standin’ Next To Destiny”, which was going to net him a pretty penny.

  Colton strolled up to the microphone thinking about every one of the thirty thousand fans buying it or listening to it online again and again, and his nerves calmed. He got to the stand just in time to sing the first lines of the song.

  Gracie’s heart raced, hearing Colton’s deep voice beside her. She could see his guitar catching the lights in her periphery. She closed her eyes and swayed as he sang. When she opened them, he was facing her in time to catch her lines.

  Gracie felt a rush from the top of her head shiver down her spine at that line. The fire was anything but out between her and Colton. The two weeks since the magic at the recording studio had left Gracie itching for more of the country bad boy. He’d all but ignored her since calling to apologize.

  Despite all of her mother’s protests, Gracie had convinced her mom that Colton would behave himself, all the while praying that he wouldn’t. Gracie knew that Colton and Shepard were similar in some ways, but there was something wild in Colton that she just had to experience.

  She didn’t know exactly what that meant, but
Gracie had to know. He was dark, wild, and everything that she wasn’t. Everything that her fans thought she wasn’t, anyway. At nineteen years old, Gracie was ready to go for it. She was tired of her V-card hanging over her head, and she couldn’t think of a better way to get rid of it.

  As the two of them sang, she watched his hands on the guitar. He was rough with it. He manhandled it. His fingers were strong, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up just enough to tease the ink that circled his arms. Gracie had seen him shirtless in pictures she’d found, but nothing compared to the real thing. Just those hints of his masculinity got her heart racing.

  While Colton and Gracie traded lines back and forth, a magnetism forced them closer. It wasn’t long before Gracie and Colton were back to back. She could feel his broad back pressing against her bare shoulders. Every beat of the kick drum seemed to press the two closer together. By the time the song finished, Gracie had the mic in her hand, and she leaned her head back against Colton’s shoulder. It felt good. It felt right.

  The crowd went nuts. They seemed to love her unconditionally, but Colton was an added spark that her tour needed. She was nearing the end of her album’s cycle, and even though it had gone platinum, it was wearing off with fans. With Colton and his band joining the last leg of the tour, her songs and show got a big shot of adrenaline.

  As Gracie turned to Colton, she blew him a kiss. He gave her that cocky smile as he pulled the guitar up and over his head. The audience couldn’t get enough of their playful back and forth. Gracie was drinking every bit of it in, too.