Chapter 22
Melody
H ound Dog never gave me any idea of what to expect when lesson two came around a few days later.
He had been in and out of the house “taking care of business”, only to come home and not give me anything about his businesses or why there was a cut above his eye one day that I had to bandage up. He said it was to keep me from worrying, which only made it worse to think about when he left every morning.
Within those times, I submitted a couple songs that I had already been working on to a couple record companies. I needed more money, I was starting to feel like a free-loader. But the man told me not to worry about bills and that he would take care of everything.
“Don’t worry about them, Melody. I’m taking care of you.” he would say when I tried to pay for groceries or even when I went to go get us coffee one morning and I found that the order had been “taken care” before I got there.
The man hid things whether to protect me or not scare me off, but I was feeling like at some point I needed more than what he was giving me. He wanted all of me.
I wanted all of him. But I was only getting the side he wanted to show.
I needed to take the chance to take my newfound confidence and bravely tell him to give me more, to not hide from me.
Temperatures were dropping and if I learned anything from last time, layers were going to be needed. My boots clicked against the cement as I followed the lights to the center of the warehouse, seeing Hound Dog waiting for me with a wide smile on his face.
My heart beat fast enough to make my head pound at the same time.
It was just us, no instruments, no props. It made me feel even more worried about what to expect.
“I’m starting to think you get me out here to plot to kidnap me,” I tried to joke, my fake laughter echoing between the walls.
“Didn’t I technically already do that?”
“I mean depending on who you talk to, your brothers may say you did. That’s why I haven’t met them yet. But Sadie, she would say it’s because you were playing hero.” I went into his arms as he encompassed me with a tight hug until our lips met witha tender kiss.
I threw my hint out there, and got no quick response. I placed my palms on his chest, pushing back, focusing on my task at hand.
“Okay, teacher. What are we doing tonight?” I asked, backing away from him before we ended up tangled up with each other like every night since the first time.
“Straight to the point, okay then. Tonight I want to see where you are at with your basic skills.” He pulled a stool randomly from the side, folding his arms across his perfect chest.
“My basic skills? At thirty, I have been doing this for ten plus years.”
He raised an eyebrow, “And at thirty-seven, with more experience under my belt, you’ll listen to me.”
Fuck, he was thirty-seven, that tracked. He had been in the game when I was just starting. Age is just a number, but damn no wonder why the man was a gorgeous specimen.
“Yes sir,” I sassed him.
“Careful, little songbird,” he warned me, his stare freezing me in my tracks. “Sing your scales.”
“In what key, sir?”
Okay, now I was just being a brat.
He trailed his tongue over his teeth before he commanded me, “Traditional, key of C”
I turned away from him, knowing that I couldn’t see him while I reverted back to basics. That, and I didn’t need him to see the eye roll that I did before singing the solfege.
“Again,” he commanded when I finished.
I sighed, but did as he commanded. A voice is like a muscle, you train it well and it goes to say something about “muscle memory”.
“Good, now do it a half step up,” he said.
I didn't understand the lesson. I knew how to do this, I composed songs nearly every day. I was getting annoyed.
Taking his command, I sang the scale a half step. His lesson was turning into a warm up. I waited for him to tell me to work on my dynamics or even vocal placement. I was a mezzo alto, I knew placement.
Fuck, I knew everything. I taught myself and workshopped with some of the best voices I knew around the area. Now I was feeling insulted. I turned a quarter back toward him. “Work on your arpeggio,” he barked out.
My eyebrows furrowed. And yet without a fight, I went into arpeggios. My voice filled every empty space between us.
“Good,” he praised, still sitting in his chair.
“Anything else, oh great one, ” I retorted. I was getting bold with every lash out I was giving him. I could chalk that up to the pent up madness that was stirring in me.
Hound had a stern look on his face, an expression of disappointment. “Something wrong? Something you want to say?” He was challenging me, testing my how long it would take before I broke down.
I looked away from him because I didn’t know how much longer I was going to be before I broke for real.
“Other than blindly trusting you, when little has been given to me?” I let my chaotic thoughts free.
Hound cocked his head. “Little trust?”
“Yes, Nash. Because I don’t think I can trust Hound right now.”
His given name sounded weird coming from me, because I didn’t know Nash.
I knew very little about Hound Dog, the president of the Saint’s Outlaw MC.
His eyes grew a heavy fire, his nostrils flared. “You can’t trust me?”
“No, and hell, maybe I can’t trust Nash either.”
He took a few steps toward me, but the coward in me kept my distance.
“Why not?” he asked, his shoulders tensing up.
I gulped, released a tiny breath. “I’ve given you more of me than anyone else. But when I ask you about where you’ve been or see the cuts on your hands, the blood or sweat on your t-shirts, it’s nothing. But when I bare my soul about my imperfections or what was told to me, that’s okay.”
He didn’t say anything, so I took the opportunity to keep going. “You’ve given me attention, food, a roof over my head, and those are fucking important and I’m grateful. But I thought we were getting somewhere, but be honest Hound, am I captive, a dirty secret, or am I someone that you actually want and aren’t ashamed of.”
The choice was his, and the way he answered would determine if I went back to the old Melody or stayed to become the person that Hound told me he saw. I also wanted to pummel him to the ground for making me feel like I was nothing more to him.
I let him approach me, but there was no sweet and gentle Hound Dog that I had gotten, there was a small darkness that roamed over him. For a moment, I saw more of the soul that was there cradling mine.
The warmth radiating from his skin was enough to make my own body sweat.
“You think I’m ashamed to see you, to show people who you are?” he asked.
“I didn’t ask what I think, I asked you, what am I?” I thought he was holding back something that he was ashamed of, but not of me. He was holding back to be a person that he wasn’t normally.
His hand gripped my chin in a possessive hold. “Mine.”
Okay, instant wet panties.
“Yours to what? Hide, own, keep on the side, what, Hound? Give me something, trust me to take whatever you have in your life as well.”
We stepped back to a wall, sending reminisce moments of the Blue Sax. My mouth was left gaped in a small O.
“How about you listen,” he commanded. My once gaped mouth was now closed to prevent protest. I once said that he could kill me in an instant. His hands left my chin only to yank mine above my head, preventing me from running.
“My turn to talk,” he said. I nodded.
“Being mine is a whole thing. Mine is a blessing and a curse and I’m trying to keep you safe. I am not ashamed to be seen with you, I am terrified of those around us that see you and know that you’re my weakness.”
My heart sank.
Weakness? Me?
“I don’t want you to carry any darkness or anger that comes from my world. You don’t need that.”
I didn’t stay quiet. “And how about you let me decide what I need?”
His grip on my wrists tightened, little shocks of pain shot down my body.
But Hound softened when I didn’t back down, instead he nudged my neck to the side and placed soft trailing kisses there. I was supposed to be mad at him, but his touch was trying to wipe it away.
“Hound, you can’t do that and expect to win.”
His voice vibrated against my neck. “I can try, Melody.”
I nudged his head away. “Ask me what I need.”
“What do you need, Melody?”
“I need you to be you. I need you to let me in and not withhold anything you think will scare me away. What you’re doing now will make me run.”
“You won’t like what you see, what you feel, what you’ll know.” He transformed his kisses to nips, trailing his one hand along my collarbone, pushing away clothing.
“How do you know?” I challenged him, bucking against him.
He bit my shoulder blade and the smallest whimper came out. “Don’t push me, Melody.”
“Then let me go,” I hissed out. It wasn’t doing any good, being held hostage. I was wanting more from this and obviously, I was the one willing to fall hard enough and want more than enough for the both of us.
At least, that was what it felt like to me.
“That’s the thing, I can’t let you go.” His heated stare came back to me.
“Either you let me go or you start giving me all of you,” I threatened him, the pure emotional rage building in my throat.
He kept fighting it. Fighting between wanting to give in or convince me otherwise.
I wanted to burst into tears at our struggle. How did we get this deep into something that barely started? How did I let myself fall for a man that was holding back so much from me?
He turned loose of my wrists, the fire in his eyes slowly died, and I was afraid I got my answer.
I cradled his face in my hands, my thumb rubbing his cheek. He was a good man but with a lot of weight that he was carrying for more than one person.
A strong man can only hold so much strength.
“Baby,” I whispered, “don’t hide from me.” I threw his words back at him from the first time we met, the first time our eyes laid on each other.
He leaned forward kissing my forehead, which was my favorite, especially from him.
“What do you want to know?” he quietly asked.
“Everything you can give me tonight,” I quickly answered before he could retract the question.
He nodded, “Let’s go home then.”
He stepped back, and before he could leave my sight, I joked with him, “I guess this means the lesson is over?”