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Authors: Ren Alexander

The Keys to Jericho (18 page)

BOOK: The Keys to Jericho
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Shaking his head, Rio crosses his arms over himself, and then his legs at his ankles in front of him. “Shit. That’s funny.”

“Holy shit!” Hadley says, laughing.

Our earlier argument forgotten, I declare, “Rio Duquesne, you’re my fucking hero.”

As Kat and Liberty look at the screen in front of them, they start laughing and patting Dash on the shoulders. Dash points to our table and says into the microphone, “This goes out to my main man, Jared Beckett. Love you, buddy.”

Fucker.

Rio, Finn, and Hadley laugh as everyone else looks in our general direction, while I take a swig from my glass.

Dash takes the lead on the song, causing the room to erupt in laughter and whistles, which only gets him more into acting like the ass he is. Kat and Liberty dance behind him, singing the chorus. He’s taking the acting the part of a girl too much, pretending to paint his nails, tossing his imaginary long hair, and strutting around the stage. And he’s sober.

This is fucking hilarious and disturbing in an infinite amount of ways.

I’m caught up watching Dash until I see Kat spin around, her skirt showing more of her legs, and Calder’s antics are ancient history. I want to run my hands along her silky skin, up her skirt; the thoughts are rampant and I can’t think of anything else.

Clapping and shouting eventually distracts my fantasizing, and the three laugh as they slowly make their way through the people complimenting their performance.

“I think Dash needs
more
of a payback,” Rio says.

I set down my drink. “What do you suggest?”

“You, singing this song right here.” He walks over to me, pointing to a song.

I frown at the book and then him. “I don’t care what it is. I’m not singing.”

Finishing his drink Finn says, “I’ll give you fifty bucks to get up there.”

“What the fuck? Why don’t
you
? You’re the one who takes dares for pay.”

He shakes his head and puts his glass on the table. “It’s not sports-related. Not only that, I’ve been drinking, so my boss would be pissed.”

Sitting back down, Rio says, “I’ll give you fifty on top of that. Do it, Jare.” He takes a sign-up paper, scribbles down the song and gives it to our waitress as she stops at our table.

“I can’t sing.”

“Nobody else can, either. It’s just fun,” Hadley reasons.

“Then why don’t
you
do it?”

“I don’t want everyone looking at me!” she shrieks.

I turn to Rio. “What about you, Duquesne?”

He not-so-apologetically grins. “I’m sober.”

I scoff, “Hypocrites. All of you.”

Returning to the table, Kat breathlessly says, “Did I look like a total idiot up there?”

I shake my head. “Just Dash.” And Liberty, but I’ll lay off her…for now.

Dash whines, “Hey, I think I was pretty great up there!”

Rio says, “Your
man
loved you, Douche.”

I give Duquesne the finger, and my sister and Kat laugh. Too bad Liberty wasn’t paying attention, because I do have enough to go around.

After two more rounds of shots, I’m told it’s my turn. By now, I’m raring to get up there, which means I’m definitely wasted.

Hadley shouts, “Come on, little brother! Don’t be a wimp!” My mouth drops open at her using Liberty’s insult. Really. Hadley can’t even do this and she’s calling
me
names.

Weaving through people, I take the stage and say, “This is for you, Dash Calder of Annapolis, Maryland,” as Ugly Kid Joe’s “Everything About You” starts. I would’ve given out his phone number if I had memorized it.

Dash rolls his eyes and shoves Rio’s arm as Duquesne laughs uncontrollably, which is highly abnormal for him. My sister and Finn laugh, but I don’t know whether it’s the song choice or Dash’s reaction that they think is funnier.

I don’t even know how I sound. It’s all outside my sphere of caring. I just want to sing about hating Dash for putting me through this shit tonight, and inviting Kat here without my prior knowledge. If he thinks he’s going to interfere, he doesn’t understand how wrong he is or how lame his efforts are. It’s all in the past. Why can’t he just leave it there like
I’ve
been trying to for years?

On the other hand, if he thinks
he’s
going to date her, he’ll be even sorrier he ever pondered
that
idea.

When the song slows, I get on my knees, crawling to the edge of the stage, pointing at Dash and singing about hating everything about him, but not the least bit sad about it. More surprisingly, even though I’m drunk and therefore, would have an excuse, I avoid indicating Liberty at all costs, except to grin at her once. Maybe a little overzealously, which could be taken as sarcastic—and should be—but whatever.
Que sera sera.

What
is
unexpected is Kat’s reaction. She looks in awe, confused, or afraid. I’m not sure which one I want her to be.

After the song is over, I go back to the table, eschewing people trying to stop me. I don’t want to talk to them when I’m sober, so why do they think I’d want to talk to them now? Despite that, some girl tucks something into my jeans pocket, which, even drunk, is fucking annoying.

Finn and Rio throw their fifty-dollar bills at me with Finn high-fiving me and announcing, “That fucking rocked!”

Rio says, “I’ve never laughed so hard in my life, Beckett. That was so much funnier than Dash’s bit. Yours was extremely heartfelt.”

Dash irritably grabs his iced tea. “It wasn’t really all
that
funny, Jericho.”

Snatching up the money, feeling the adrenaline rush mixed with the alcohol buzz at full throttle, I sit back down next to Kat. With a smile, she says, “I’ve never seen that side of you before.”

I stuff the bills into my pocket, and hanging my arm behind Kat’s part of the booth, I smirk and lean close to her. “There’re several sides of me you haven’t seen before.” I take my time inhaling her perfume as she anxiously plays with a button on her shirt.

She stutters, “I-I know.”

Breathing close to her neck, I whisper, “What’s wrong,
Kit Kat
?”

Kat swiftly turns to face me and I instinctively sit back. “You remembered calling
me
that?”

I crook an eyebrow, astutely smiling. “I remember a
lot.
” Sometimes the memories are worse when I’m drunk, which is another reason to not drink, but if I drink them fast enough, I pass out and forget them all.

She smiles back, biting her lip, not looking drunk as I am, but I know she is with all the shots and drinks she’s had.

Liberty says something to Kat, robbing her attention away from me.

Thieving bitch.

Taking a breather, and looking for more drinks, I see on the other side of me, my sister leaning against Finn, kissing his neck, showing she’s less inhibited. She’s definitely trashed, too. As she kisses Finn, while her hand roams over his chest, his glassy eyes partially close and he squeezes her leg, digging his fingers into her inner, upper thigh. If she were wearing a skirt, he’d unquestionably be fingering her in front of all of us.
Damn it.
I’m
not
sleeping on the pullout with Dash tonight. Hadley needs to sneak Finn into a bathroom just so I don’t have to hear them later. Besides that, they really need to start fucking during the week, instead of saving it all for the weekends. It would be a lot less awkward for me, at least.

Our waitress returns, telling Liberty and Kat it’s their turn. What the hell just happened?

When they get to the stage, “Dirrty” flashes on the screen and they give each other a giggling look before rolling their hips with the music.

Kat’s skirt shifts up and down as she squats and stands, her legs opening and closing with the music, nearly flashing everyone. Unfortunately, I can’t see anything.

She and Liberty march around each other, taking turns singing the lyrics, both shaking their asses, but I’m only watching Kat’s skirt swishing with the rhythm.

Fuck. Me.

I definitely need to sneak Kat into the bathroom. 

I wish.

Liberty’s stupid ponytails swing around as she awkwardly spins; however, unlike Liberty’s rotating, Kat’s movements are mesmerizing. I’m captivated by her. Still.

It’s only getting worse.

For the most part, I’m able to ignore Liberty, focusing only on Kat, but the song ends too soon. Flabbergasted by what I just saw, I glance over to Rio, whose mouth is gaping as much as mine.

When Kat disappears from the stage, I look around and happen to notice Finn kissing and licking up Hadley’s neck. His short sleeve of his black T-shirt slides up, exposing his barbed wire tattoo as his hand creeps up her ribs. He then whispers in her ear, making her giggle. Christ. I’ll have to sit in between them in the backseat just to keep their hands out of each other’s pants.

Liberty returns to the table without Kat, so I look around the room to see Kat back on the stage as “Mercedes Boy” displays on the screen. She giggles before singing about doing things to someone in a Mercedes, all while staring straight at me.

What. The. Fuck?

Is this a prank? I can’t fathom that she’s really directing this to me. She didn’t want me back then. Why would she want me now? I’m just the next convenient man in her vicinity. Yet, she isn’t looking at Calder.

“Whoa, Jericho. I think she’s singing to you, and about doing very naughty things to your…car.” I know having my sister here stopped him from saying something else.

I don’t acknowledge his comment, and with Dash and Rio watching me, I try to remain calm and casual, but inside, I’m a live wire, humming all over, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol.

As another person takes the stage, Kat returns with a red face, looking everywhere but at me. Obviously flustered, she says, “I’ll be back.” When she makes it two tables over, I get up and follow her out to the lobby, where she goes to a corner and faces the wall, while catching her breath.

“Are you okay?” I cringe at how stupid I sound.

Kat spins around. “You followed me?” I can’t believe I did, either.

“You looked upset.”

She shakes her head. “I just needed some air. I can’t believe I got up there by myself,” she says with a nervous laugh. “I can’t sing.”

“I can’t, either. You were great, actually.”

“I was?” She smiles, and I’m again lost.

I dully nod and she says, “So were you. I liked when you crawled around, tearing into Dash.”

I shrug and glance to the people milling around the lobby. “He had it coming.” She laughs, and I look back to her. “Are you having fun, catching up with him?”

Kat twists her hands together, entwining her fingers. “I’ve been doing that when we go out to lunch, but we do email each other occasionally, and run into each other from time to time.”

“Well, it’s nice that you’re here spending more time with him.” No, it hasn’t.

She shakes her head, her eyes not leaving mine. “He’s not who I’m here to see.”

What?

In my drunkenness, I’m not sure if she means me or someone else. I inanely ask, “What do you mean?”

She takes a deep breath, her chest heaving toward me. “Jared…”

“Jared. Kat. You two are up next,” Rio says behind me.

I promptly turn around. “What?”

“Yeah. A duet. Dash signed you up. You have to do it. He’s betting money against you not doing it. Finn and I each have twenty that you will.”

Swiping over my face with my hand, I mutter, “My friends are dicks.”

Without thinking, I grab Kat’s wrist and lead her to the stage, where “Don’t You Want Me” begins playing.

Holy fucking hell.

I’m forced to plead with Kat in song for the reasons why I’m not good enough for her, just so Dash will lose his bet.

And it’s harder for me than it looks.

When it’s Kat’s turn, she sings about needing to be on her own, despite still having…feelings…for me.

Fuck. I hate Dash Calder. This song is unadulterated torture at its best.

Kat and I are only focused on each other, her face expressing something that I haven’t seen on her before, and for the length of the song, at least, nobody else exists as we slay the other. I wonder if she’s enjoying it now as much as she did in school. For me, it’s like cutting an old scar open and letting me bleed all over the stage for everyone here to see.

There’s so much…emotion…on her face, and I swear she blinked back tears once, but I have no idea what’s driving her through this. If this song wholly utters what I would say to her, then what song would she use for me in return?

Fucking Dash. He thinks he knows me or what I’ve been through.

When the song is finally over, Kat and I part ways, even though we’re going to the same table.

BOOK: The Keys to Jericho
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