Rock Chick Reckoning (Rock Chick #6)(46)

His mind was on other things.

I took my eyes off Buzz, looked at the crowd and wrapped my hand around the microphone with a toss of my hair.

This was Pong and Leo’s cue.

Pong’s sticks clicked on the drums, Leo started the first chords and I knew without looking that Buzz had clued in.

He couldn’t help but clue in. We al knew what those clicks and strums meant.

“This one’s for Linnie,” I told the crowd.

Everyone screamed; the wave of sound hit the band, firing us up al the more even though most people probably had no idea who Linnie was. They didn’t care, any song that was for someone was going to be something. And this song, a song we rarely ever played, they knew would rock the whole f**king house.

I glanced at Buzz and found his face was pale but his eyes were on me and they were shining. I looked away, knowing if I kept looking at him I’d lose it, just as Hugo’s deep voice started smoothly delivering the lyrics.

And the lyrics were to ZZ Top’s kil er, kickass “La Grange”.

Hugo sang.

A few more strums, a few more clicks.

I felt it in my bel y, like I always felt it in my bel y just like I knew Linnie always felt it in her bel y.

Wait for it… my brain breathed in anticipation.

Pong’s drums went wild and Leo’s soft guitar went solid.

The crowd surged in and my stomach plunged.

This is what it’s all about. This is what Linnie lived for, my brain told me what I already knew, because I understood Linnie. I lived for it too.

Hugo’s velvet voice slid back in, “Have mercy…” then he smoothed through the “haw haws” and then delivered the lyrics.

When it was time, Pong rounded out the beat; I went front stage and started to blow the lid off.

“Have mercy,” Hugo finished, stepped back with a big, white smile at me and I rol ed.

I walked the stage, eyes on the crowd, Leo and Pong setting the rhythm. I watched the crowd throb, the heads bob, the bodies sway, the hands in the air jacking out the beat. I smiled wide at them. They were asking for it and, as usual, I gave it to them. It was the only good thing I had to give, I was generous with the gift and they sucked it right up.

Leo stopped, Pong and I took turns, Leo cut in and I cut out, leaving it to Leo and Pong.

Then Pong exploded, Leo came back and, final y, so did I.

Floyd joined the fun, scooting across the stage, crouched low, jaw jutting back and forth, playing air guitar like he was a white Chuck Berry.

I watched Floyd’s antics and only I could hear my laughter over the music. My eyes moved to Hugo who was doing a weird, super fly black man dancing to rock ‘n’ rol dance, shoulder’s moving up and down, hands tucked tight to his chest, head bobbing, feet moving around in a wide square.

The crowd was there, feeding us but they’d also somehow melted away.

The band was al on its own. We were the only ones in the club and we were tight, most ev’ry night and there was no mistake about it.

Buzz, his bass not needed in the song, was jumping up and down, a wide smile on his lips, tears streaming down his face, his bass flipped around so it was at a slant along his back.

I was working the stage, working the band, fol owing alongside Floyd as he made another crazy crouch-walk back across the stage.

I tossed my hair, throwing my head back to do it and just kept playing.

I stopped, leaned forward at the h*ps and laughed open-mouthed in the direction of Leo who was moving his h*ps and shaking his head, his dirty hair in his eyes, grinning like a loon. I looked to Pong who was banging on the drums, swinging his wild hair around so much it was like a living thing.

Linnie would love this, my brain told me.

Linnie always loved this, I told my brain and she did.

Linnie’s favorite was always ZZ Top’s “La Grange”, she begged us to do it, every gig.

Here’s to Linnie, my brain whispered.

“Here’s to Linnie,” I whispered back.

I smiled at Buzz, he smiled at me and went to the microphone as the notes started to fade.

“Long live rock ‘n’ rol !” he screamed.

The crowd roared.

I nodded at the lighting guy.

The stage went black.

* * * * *

A bottle of Fat Tire beer was shoved into my hand by Duke when I came down the steps at the side of the stage. “We got trouble,” Duke growled but I’d already felt it. The high from “La Grange” disappeared in a flash and my eyes moved to the source of the trouble just as Duke plastered himself to my side and the band came clattering down behind me.

“What’s goin’ on?” Floyd asked.

I moved toward the back wal where Lee, Vance and a newly-arrived Mace had Monk pinned to the wal using nothing but their col ective badass presence to hold him there.

“And lighten the f**kin’ crowd,” I heard Mace finish on a snarl when I stopped several feet behind his back. I didn’t have to see his face to know Mace was not in a good mood. I just had to look at the straight line of his back and the tight way he was holding his powerful body.

“Have you lost your f**kin’ mind? ” Monk screeched, eyes huge and riveted on Mace.

“You don’t close down the door and lighten the crowd, I’m gonna lose my f**kin’ mind, make no mistake,” Mace returned and, honest to God, there was no mistake to be made in the tone of Mace’s voice.