Chapter 11 #2
It was eight in the evening by the time I reached the doors—which were standing open despite the fall chill—and an acoustic duo was playing a cover of "Mr. Brightside" in a gritty, bluesy tone, which was an interesting choice.
The bouncer was a mammoth man with long jet black hair, who was covered in what looked to my extremely sheltered white girl eyes to be actual native, tribal tattoos, but the real kind, not the shitty douche-bro type.
He was wearing baggy Adam Sandler-style gym shorts and a tee that could fit two of me and still have room for activities.
He looked me over, asked for my ID, scanned it, and scrutinized me.
"Lindsey Snelling from LA." His voice was so deep my ribcage rattled.
"Uh, yeah, that's me. Hi." I grinned nervously, even though I was obviously old enough and had no reason to be nervous; this guy was just so big he could yeet me back across the Inside Passage from here.
The giant man checked the time on his phone and then looked at me. "You can make it if you hurry."
I blinked at the non sequitur. "I…what? Make it where?"
"The concert."
I shook my head. "I'm sorry…I feel like we're having a conversation, but you know what we're talking about and I don't."
He leaned in through the door. "Kaylee!” The volume of his shout left my ears ringing. “I’m going to the concert. Have Brian come to the door."
"GOT IT!" A female voice answered back in a shout.
The giant lumbered to his feet, towering at least six inches over me. "C'mon, Lindsey Snelling from LA. You can ride with me."
"Ride with you where? And no offense, but I don't know you, and you're kinda scary."
He grinned down at me. "Name's Ink Isaac."
"Ink…?" A penny dropped. "Ohhh! You're one of Dane's six billion uncles."
He nodded, grinning at the exaggeration. "Sure am."
"I remember seeing you at Rune and Duncan's wedding," I said. "I was…a little distracted that day. Plus, you looked way different with your hair down and wearing a suit."
He just nodded again. We reached a vintage Suburban, and he lowered his bulk behind the wheel—the whole vehicle sank a few inches. I hesitated, and then got in on the other side.
"So, uh, where are we going? A concert of some kind?"
“You’ll see."
I swallowed hard. "How—how is he?"
He sighed, tipped his head to one side. "He’s okay. Finding his way." He looked at me. "He doesn't know you're here?"
I shook my head. "No. No one does. I mean, my friend Raquel knows I was headed this way, but I haven't told anyone up here that I was coming."
He didn't answer that, either, beyond a nod. Man of few words, I guess.
He pulled into the University of Alaska Southeast, Ketchikan campus, and parked near the Performing Arts Center.
Color me baffled. He ambled unhurriedly toward the building and led the way inside.
The last of the crowd was filing into the auditorium, and we joined them.
Ink stopped just inside, scanning the rows—the Badd family wasn't hard to find, as they'd taken up an entire section near the back, with a few seats still saved.
I spied Dane's Dad, his mom, Delia and Hunter—sigh, swoon—with their kids on their laps; there was Rune in an aisle seat, rubbing her giant belly, Duncan beside her, arm around her as he leaned forward to exchange jokes with a female cousin.
My god, so many cousins—it was a sea of absurdly good-looking humans.
My god, what did that family eat? PHAT pills?
I know, I know, no one uses that term anymore. Shut up.
Ink spied a short, dark-haired woman with four kids, a seat saved between her and the kids. He glanced down at me. "No one is mad at you."
I swallowed hard. "I…"
He patted my shoulder with a paw the size of a Kodiak bear's. "You look like you're about to shit yourself. I can't speak for Dane, but I know the rest of the family understands how things go. You did what you had to do. No one is mad at you."
My heart was clamoring and clattering in my chest, and my anxiety was trying to feed me ideas that the Badds would all hate me for hurting Dane.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"Cuz we ain't like that, darlin'. He didn't tell us much, either. But he's not mad, so we're not mad."
"He's…he's not?"
A shake of his head. "Nah. Hurt, maybe. Confused, definitely. Angry? Dane's not an angry guy."
I looked around. "Thank you, Ink. But…why are we here? What is the concert?"
Rune had seen me with Ink and was valiantly struggling to her feet. I scuttled over to her and knelt beside her. "Don't get up, don’t get up."
Sinking back down with obvious relief, Rune twisted to hug me over the armrest. "Linz! You're here!" She pulled back and fiddled with my hair, sniffling. "Why are you here?"
"Long story," I said. "Short version is fuck LA and I had nowhere else to go. Also, ummm." I gave her a simpering grin. "Is your couch available?"
Duncan heard me, whipped around, stared at me, exchanged a meaningful look with Rune, and then tipped his head to one side.
"Couch? No. Spare room with a bed where you can stay as long as you need?
Yes. We're about to have this baby any second, though, so I hope you either sleep soundly or have earplugs. "
My eyes burned. "I don't want to get in your way or anything. I won’t stay long, I just—"
Duncan interrupted. "Linz, you're my wife's best friend. Regardless of anything with my brother, you’re her family first."
Rune leaned into her husband. "See why I love him?"
My throat was tight. “Yeah, I do. So, um…obviously, Dane doesn't know I'm here either. I sort of just showed up."
The lights dimmed just then, and the orchestra in the pit—which had been warming up with a dissonant racket—quieted.
"Lindsey!" A voice hissed.
I twisted around and saw Ella, one of Dane's cousins, who I'd chatted with a bit during the wedding reception, was waving me to an empty seat next to her in the next row back; I patted Rune's arm. “We’ll talk more after whatever this is."
She nodded and turned forward as college kids filed onto the stage from the wings.
The guys were wearing tuxedos, and the girls were wearing plain black dresses—which, honestly, weren't the most flattering.
More than one poor girl could have used a tailor to either take in or let out the dresses.
One girl was about to bounce out of her dress if she failed to hold her cleavage down, while another could have hosted a Christmas pageant in the bodice of hers; it was so loose.
They all filed onto the risers occupying the stage in a semicircle, and an older woman in a tailored black pantsuit stepped up onto a podium and tapped her wand thingy against the edge of her music stand.
The choir—for such it was—rearranged themselves in a single shuffle, some stepping up, some down.
Why, I don't know; choir things, I guess.
Silence.
Tap-tap.
The orchestra started a melody—I recognized it but couldn't place it until the choir started singing—it was a classic hymn I don't remember the name of, but it was standard choir fare. They sounded fantastic, but I still wasn't sure why I was here—why the whole Badd clan was here.
I scanned the faces on the risers, looking for a familiar one, but we were in the back and I am sort of nearsighted; I've just never bothered with corrective lenses.
It's only in situations like this that I notice it; this and night driving.
The hymn ended. Pages were turned. A few people on the risers moved positions, again for reasons that were opaque to me.
Tap-tap.
A broad-shouldered figure stepped down from the back row and made his way to the mic stand at the front of the stage.
Dane.
His tux had tails, and he looked fucking stunning. James Bond who? Hunter who? The man was a god. The way he filled out that jacket? The white bowtie? A lot of dudes look dumb in bowties. Dane? Hot.
"Fuck me," I whispered. "Dane?"
Ella looked at me in shock. "He has a solo?"
"He's in a choir?" I shot back.
"HUSH!" Someone behind us hissed.
Dane was laser-focused on the director, waiting for the cue. The orchestra started “Hallelujah” by David Buckley, as made famous(er) by Shrek.
Dane took a deep breath, wiped his hands on the front of his trousers. Poor guy was so visibly nervous, I was nervous for him.
And then the cue came, and he opened his mouth, and…
The man could sing.
Like holy shit.
I don't know fuck- about baritone or tenor or soprano—that one’s girls, I think?
—I just know his voice was rich and smooth and expressive as he began the low, quiet opening, his voice growing in power and richness as the song built.
When it crescendoed at the chorus, the choir joined in, weaving a harmony around Dane's voice.
The song went slow and quiet again, and the choir faded until it was just Dane again, finishing the song.
When it was over, I was crying.
Not sure why.
But when I looked around, pretty much every Badd in the house was looking emotional. Ella was literally open-mouthed as a single tear trickled down.
"Did you know he could do that?" I asked as the crowd lurched to its feet, applauding.
"No!" she hissed back. "Did you?"
I could only shake my head.
Dane looked as stunned as the rest of us, as if he couldn't quite believe what had just happened, either.
That was Dane's only solo, but the rest of the concert, now that I knew why I was there, was amazing. They did some current pop numbers, some classics, and an obscure piece in Latin I've never heard of that was haunting and gave me shivers.
Dane was glowing. He moved with the music, swaying, eyes closed, looking so full of light and life I almost didn't recognize him.