Chapter 22 – Elias
I lied.
I’m a decent singer.
My mother taught me to sing along with piano lessons.
Every Friday night—at least up until I was forced to shadow my father—Mom would rearrange the living room and setup a makeshift stage.
Lance would play the piano, since he was better than me, and I would sing.
Mom would sit on the couch, beaming at her two handsome sons, crying at our performances.
Now I realize she always cried because she knew it would all come to an end someday.
I haven’t sung since I was a teenager. Unless you count solo performances in the shower.
But I’m not as good as Sage.
She leads me to the front and introduces me to the karaoke DJ, a long-haired man dressed in a colorful outfit and red boots that remind me of the ones worn in that Broadway show Kinky Boots . He hands me a piece of paper, and I write down my song, making sure to hide it from Sage.
“No peeking,” I tell her.
She holds up her hands in innocence.
I assumed the DJ was going to put me at the back of the list, and we’d leave before I was called up to sing, but he enters my song next.
Now.
The song is playing now.
New York State of Mind by Billy Joel.
God.
Why am I doing this?
Sage sits on a stool with her back to the bar. Her hands are clasped, and her eyes are lit up with anticipation.
That motivates me.
I belt out the lyrics and immediately, the crowd reacts with hoots and hollers.
Sage drops her hands to her lap; her mouth hanging open.
She’s all I focus on as I croon. The song isn’t even romantic, but the way Sage bites her lip and fidgets on the stool tells me she’s ready to climb me right here in the middle of the bar.
When the song ends, I don’t waste time and grab her hand to pull her toward the door. I ignore the accolades from everyone as I pass by, only pausing to pay our server before squeezing through the crowd to get outside.
We barely make it a few steps out the door before there’s a loud pop followed by a scream. I stop in my tracks and reach for Sage, clutching her arm to bring her to the ground.
My men surround us, guns drawn.
“Are you okay? Did you get hit?”
“N-no.”
Sage’s voice is small and trembling.
“Someone’s shooting at us. I need you to stay behind me, okay?”
“Okay.”
Sage clings to my back, and I order one of my soldiers to protect our rear as we make our way to the SUV. People who were walking down the sidewalk are now running for cover as two more gunshots ring out.
I curse and reach for my gun when a bullet whizzes next to my ear.
“Where are they shooting from?” I ask Jax.
“Fifth floor window across the street. I already have men going over there.”
“Have you called for backup?”
“On the way.”
I need to get Sage out of here, but I also need to find who is shooting at us so I can brutally murder them.
I open the SUV’s door and help Sage inside .
“Lock the doors. Stay down. I’ll be right back.”
I don’t give her time to argue and close the door.