Tender Thorn

Tender Thorn

Julie Napier

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 by Julie Napier

All Rights Reserved.

Dedicated to the best ever editor on Earth

Who understands me,

Who challenges me,

Who has pushed this novel into so much more than I ever knew it could be.

To Jason

Chapter 1

Quit eying the new bar wench!

Wally rolled his eyes and mouthed something that looked like Jesus Christ but couldn’t be heard over techno mix the deejay was trying out. Smoke and churning lights washed over the beach bum crowd like the warm waves they couldn’t get enough of in the daytime.

Maybe if you quit holding out on poor ol’ Walls he wouldn’t have to look. Cricket giggled as he attacked his fourth shot and lifted his bare freckly arm for another.

Have Casey take a crack at her. Jamie’s glazed eyes flicked toward his buddy. What are you batting these days, pretty boy, a thousand?

Casey rubbed his shaved head, wondering whether it was too late to make the switch from beer to whiskey, and secondly whether doing so at this point could possibly save this night.

Casey wouldn’t lower his standards for anything less than the finest, Cricket teased.

Casey glanced up at the darkened stage where he and his band mates were scheduled for a gig tomorrow night, trying to recall when singing with these jokers had been fun.

His view was obstructed when the new bar wench made her way to their table to take Cricket’s order.

A six out of ten, he allowed. Simple clothes worn a little loose but definitely a nice body. Long dark hair that waved over her chest to conceal more, decent face…

Giving into the challenge laid before him, Casey leaned forward and grinned. I didn’t know Shorty was hiring models now.

She gave him a brief appraising glance. I like that one, hotshot. Clever. She then cleared the empty shot glasses and wiped the dribbles off the nicked wooden table. Another round of Jose?

Drunken guffaws from everyone but Casey.

Unless you got a birthday cake back there. Cricket straightened his shoulders.

Her dazzling smile authenticated Casey’s pickup line. Is it your birthday? Well, the next round’s on me.

The four buddies stared at one another and Stephanie was crossing her arms in distaste.

Shit, she is HOT, dude, Jamie breathed, watching her disappear into the crowd which was just starting to get revved up on this Thursday night.

Still not hot enough for Case, Wally pointed out.

Casey’s dark eyes revealed nothing.

Doesn’t matter, Cricket said. She shut him down like he was ugly as… YOU!

Casey drank his beer, checked the time on his cell phone, and wondered if he should leave their drunken asses to find their own rides home. He should just call it a night, Casey told himself, go home and lift some weights and pass out. Six a.m. and the new jobsite were right around the corner at this point.

Not for the first time today, Casey wished for that elusive third option. Finishing his beer, Casey stood up. Just then he saw the waitress making her way back to the table with a tray filled with shots and a candle in what looked like a Boston Cream doughnut.

Casey sat back down. He watched her, willing her to meet his eyes just once.

She set the plate in front of Cricket and quickly distributed the shot glasses and the doughnut. Cricket tried to give her a hug but she twisted out of reach.

Thanks, new girl! Good one. Cricket gave a thumbs up instead and blew out his candle.

She nodded, eyes sparkling through the misty green and yellow lights as Ne-Yo shuddered through the speakers.

Placing a bottle of Yuengling Lager in front of Casey without a word or a glance, she was gone.

A few groupies showed up and joined them. Casey didn’t add to the conversation. He noticed the new girl seemed to have given away their table; a waitress named Hallie delivered subsequent rounds of drinks. She was blond and perky and most of them had screwed her at one time or another.

The music cranked on, the lights swirled and jetted, and after a few more drinks, nearly everyone moved to the dance floor.

Casey stayed put at the table. Every now and then he would see the new girl delivering drinks, fending off the inevitable advances of the regulars. She did so with exactly the same amount of indifference that she had paid him.

You look madder than hell, Case! Hallie said as she leaned against his shoulder.

Crash and burn, Casey said, stroking his goatee almost unconsciously. The new girl’s not exactly Suzy Sunshine.

Austen is kind of shy, Hallie agreed.

Austen.

She gave Cricket a round of drinks and a doughnut for his birthday, figured she’d hang around long enough to make up the money in tips.

Hallie rolled her eyes as her boss made a V with his fingers, pointing them at his beady eyes and then toward her. She started to clear the table slowly and her voice could barely be heard over Jimmy Buffet. That was really sweet of her. I bet after tomorrow she won’t be swapping tables to get away from you.

Casey sat with those words as Hallie left.

The nightclub rapidly dwindled to half capacity. Casey’s glance fell briefly on Jamie attempting to talk an old girlfriend into going home with him.

Two fucking options. Casey shook his head and headed for the bathroom.

Most of the waitresses, Hallie included, were caught in conversations or taking smoke breaks. On the way back, he saw Austen at the bar loading up another tray.

He touched her elbow and felt her tense up as she whirled around with frightened eyes.

Austen?

She seemed to exhale as she recognized him. Yuengling—one more before they shut the bar down?

I’d settle for a Boston Cream and your number.

The fear was replaced with dismissive candor in her sea green eyes. Too bad it’s not your birthday.

My birthday was three weeks ago, he said. The lights were starting to get brighter as last call was announced.

Austen gave a cool half smile as she hefted the tray up. You don’t look like you eat too many Boston Creams, slick.

Then she was gone.

A grin spread on Casey's face as his interest in playing here tomorrow night grew. His drunken friends found him, more than ready to head to Cricket’s for more partying.

You puke on my seats and I’ll knife you, Casey warned as he reached for his keys.

Austen got up at dawn and went for her morning run along the beach. The rosy tones of the sunrise and the rush of the ocean were soothing after a restless night. She had a hard time sleeping for longer than an hour or two at a time anymore.

After a smooth six miles, she made it back and started the shower. Fixing a mug of tea, she dropped her sweaty clothes into the hamper and hopped into the pelting water.

The days were taking on a comfortable, predictable pattern. There was peace in the routine, and a safe feeling to the peace.

Austen didn’t regret her decision to start over. The other places had been interesting and beautiful in their own ways. Packing up and leaving the last one at midnight, she had arrived at Pleasant Beach at five in the morning. With her windows down, the crashing ocean seemed ominous, almost frightening. Her heart hammering, Austen had pulled over and forced herself to walk down the sandy beach toward the sound. Stars still dotted the sky and the very faintest pink tinged the horizon. The chill waves gingerly closed around her ankles, the sound softened, and Austen looked up to see a shooting star blazing heartily across half of the sky—the first one she had ever seen in her life. Tears blurred her vision and she found it difficult to breathe.

Before heading into work, Austen glanced once more at the bare walls of her condo and decided to pick up some paint this weekend.

Green, Austen said to nobody in particular. Emerald green. As she closed the door, she felt her lungs constrict.

Shorty’s gonna make you go home and change into something sluttier! Jenny proclaimed as Austen passed the group of smokers in the parking lot.

Austen glanced down at her cream-colored dress dotted with curls of ivy that reached her knees but dipped down to reveal at least as much cleavage as the other servers there.

Feel free to help yourself to my closet. Jenny jerked her thumb toward an ancient El Camino. Save you a trip!

Noted. Thanks, Jen.

She continued into the bar through the scarred metal back door without another word as four pairs of eyes watched her.

Reggie and Gronk had arrived. But then the bouncers were constantly there, either working or partying. They were transplants from Jersey, cousins or something, and had the Guido vibe about them.

Hey, girl! Gronk said in a voice that was surprisingly high-pitched relative to his caveman frame. His dark gelled curls were combed to the left side tonight, and Reggie’s spikey dark hair was gelled and combed to the right. Their combined knowledge of hair products was second to none.

Hello, boys. Austen greeted them with a wave. It was still cool in the interior before too many bodies clogged it up.

Austen slipped behind the bar and began wiping down the glasses. The early birds came in and she started to fill a tray with orders and softly sang along to the slow country jams playing.

What’s good tonight? A deep voice had her looking up. The man had broad shoulders, deep chocolate eyes, a trim goatee and was completely bald. The smile on his face was pleasantly off center.

She remembered him from last night. Before she could stop herself Austen felt a pang of heat shoot through her middle.

Yuengling Lager. Or are you wanting something stronger tonight? She straightened her shoulders and bit off the words just a little to get her mind back on track. Then, as if in apology, she smiled.

That’s what I was waiting for, he said. I waited all night last night for another one of your smiles.

Austen took a deep breath. This she could deal with. She held up a finger and took her time delivering the drinks. When she returned, the man still hadn’t moved. He hadn’t even stopped smiling. The result was unsettling. Charming, even.

What’ll it be? Austen asked, pressing the bar with her hands. It was still quiet enough that they could hear each other without screaming over the flashing haze.

Just water, he replied. I’m setting up to sing tonight.

Austen grabbed a bottle of water and set it in front of him. Souls for Fears? Don’t suppose you came up with that name on your own?

Joint effort, he replied.

She glanced up at the stage and the remaining members of the band and then at him. Of course. Well, good luck out there.

Any requests? He offered payment for the water.

Austen held up a hand. Shorty allowed the bands free water. Don’t suck.

He left the five on the bar. I’ll see what I can do. On an unrelated note, you look great tonight. That dress is really classy on you.

She watched him walk toward the stage where the band was setting up before a slew of orders came in faster than she could fill them.

Hey, girl! Jenny greeted her and gave her a hug, not noticing or not caring that Austen grew rigid at her touch. Looks like you got things under control. You were the main course of gossipfest outside, and being such a fascinating person, you distracted us from the time.

Austen gave her a cool smile. Understandable.

I think the bitches want to like you, Jenny confided. Here, lemme take this. She winked and took the heavy tray of beers, heading to the dance floor and the thirsty throngs of female patrons.

What kind of music do they play? Austen asked casually as she passed Jenny ten minutes later.

Rock and roll mostly. But Casey can sing ANYTHING.

Casey.

They both glanced at the dance floor, which was quickly attaining cattle car status under the whirling lights. At least sixty women in bright summer dresses or sausage casing style skirts were giggling and swaying.

Austen recognized each member of the band from the table she had waited on the night before. The red-faced guy with greasy light hair and a Souls for Fears t-shirt that strained over his extra-large frame was sound checking his guitar. Then there was the one who reminded Austen of a fish with his watery eyes and scaly skin, also playing guitar, who had the heavy-faced girlfriend. The girlfriend was here tonight, alternating making smooch faces at her man and bestowing hateful looks at the audience. The birthday boy, devoid of the murky lighting from the previous night, appeared to be a scrawny guy with a receding hairline and a dopey grin sitting behind the drums.

And Casey. He was adjusting the microphone, his face total business. He may have been close in age to his pushing-thirty friends, but that appeared to be the only similar quality.

Does he like, strip or something?

Jenny laughed, her rainbow pony tails looking like glowsticks under the black lights. I wish, girl. You’ll get it when you hear his voice. Then she was gone.

The band started playing at ten and it was standing room only. People stood around their tables and sometimes on their tables, until Gronk or Reggie made their way around to discourage it.

Hysteria from Def Leppard was first. Austen stopped her work as Casey nailed the opening notes. The song title described the groupies’ reaction perfectly; she and Shorty may have been the only ones not cheering in the entire bar.

The band seemed to feed off the audience reaction, as they got progressively better with each song. The playlist was varied: Santana, Johnny Cash, Godsmack, Jason Aldean, Guns N Roses and Austen smiled when she heard him break out Meshuggah’s Rational Gaze. That one she hadn’t heard in a while, and she was pleasantly shocked by the choice of song and how well this small-time band handled it. Delivering drinks became almost a battlefield encounter as the heightened animation of the crowd took over. Shorty’s was at capacity tonight, maybe over.

It was hard to tell for sure over the shrieking and speakers but Austen had to agree with Jenny’s assessment of Casey’s voice.

When Austen was pushing through the damp bodies of the women toward the front to deliver some Sex on the Beaches, she looked up at Casey for a moment.

He seemed to wink at her while belting out Journey’s Still They Ride.

The booze-fueled fans screamed their approval.

Casey announced the final song nearly two hours later. The crowd hollered and chanted for him as the first chords of the song cast chills down Austen’s spine.

Just before her vision started to shudder, Casey began to sing the lyrics that were as familiar to Austen as her own name.

You okay? Hallie gripped Austen’s arm. You need some water or something?

Austen was trembling as Casey sang the heart-wrenchingly beautiful song. Half of the women appeared to be almost in tears as his voice caressed the words and melody like the most affectionate of lovers.

‘Let this love, let it wash away your tears. Circle of thorns, hopelessly twisted…’

You’re shaking like a leaf, honey, Hallie said and pulled Austen toward the back room, pushing through the swinging door and effectively cutting off most of the ambient noise. Maybe you should sit down for a second.

Austen gratefully accepted as she sat down on an overturned bucket. Empty boxes that hadn’t been broken down yet littered the cracked concrete floor of the narrow room. Reggie’s standard box of doughnuts sat half eaten on the low shelf beside her. Austen breathed in the sour, mop-water air and tried to relax her shaky limbs. Her ears were ringing from the intensity of the noise that was now relegated to an echo in the cold dim space.

Been a long night. Hallie filled the silence as she pressed the door slightly open and smiled toward the stage. "Don’t sweat it, honey; the heat and the noise will get