Natalie
If I hadn’t been so nervous about getting up on The Strangled Cat’s stage for the first time with an audience, then I’d be pissed at Colt. What did I have to do to make him realize we were meant to be together?
No denying it, I was hook, line, and sinker in love with him.
He’d made me come four times—four fabulous mind-melting times—but my entire body still ached for more. Being with him made me daring and dauntless. Like I could conquer the world.
I wasn’t mad at the woman who’d broken his heart, and if I ever met her, I’d let her know that she’d hurt someone enough they never wanted to fall in love again.
I’d ask if she was proud of the damage her actions had caused.
I would never hurt Colt, and I believed in my heart he would never hurt me. To the rest of the world, he was a tough-as-old-boots cowboy, but when we were alone, I got to see how caring and sweet he really was.
It was still early, but since it was a Thursday night, tourists had begun to arrive for a long weekend of partying, which meant the bar was already jammed. The food and the music at The Strangled Cat brought people through the door. I wasn’t kidding myself that they were here to listen to me sing. I was just background noise while they ate and drank, but I would give it my all.
Montana Chambers once said in an interview you had to give everything to every show, be it ten people or ten thousand. That you always had to bring your A-game and be professional. Well, tonight, I would bring my A+ game and more.
With a deep, centering breath, I followed Lucas on to the stage. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for.
He tapped the microphone and said, “How ya all doin’? Welcome to Thursday night at The Cat.” A chorus of cheers and several ye-haws greeted him.
I stood behind him fiddling with my guitar strings, my heart hammering a million miles a minute.
Lucas continued, “We’ve got a treat for you tonight. Making her debut, please welcome Natalie Davis all the way from Gainesville, Georgia.”
There was a smattering of applause. Lucas stepped away from the microphone and gestured for me to take his place.
I adjusted the mic stand, and feedback screeched around the bar. I jerked back, not missing the sniggers coming from some of the audience.
“Evenin’, everyone. Like Lucas said, my name’s Natalie. I’ve been singing and making up my own songs since before I could walk.”
“Get on with it,” a man’s voice called out.
A movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Colt was on his way over to the heckler, but I shook my head to stop him. I could handle anyone and anything without his help. With a nod in my direction, he went to lean on the bar.
“What’s your name, sir?”
“Mike.”
“Mike, I’m gonna write a song about tonight, and you’re going to get a mention for being my very first heckler.” I strummed a generic tune, then began to sing. “There was a guy called Mike, thought he was some kind of hot stuff, tried his best to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough. Tried to make me quit, tried to make me cry, but ended up in the hospital thanks to my guy.” The audience laughed, and Mike looked sheepish. “Anyone else like to be in my song?”
“You’re the worst,” a lady wearing a pink, sparkly cowgirl hat called out, then cackled along with her girlfriends. “The name’s Anne with an E.”
I strummed my guitar again. “Ann with an E, guzzled cheap red wine, she was looking for love, sure had been a long time. Mike bought her a drink, she threw it in his face. I’m not that desperate she said, you’re a fucking disgrace.” Ann with an E roared, and the audience cracked up along with her.
My nerves vanished, and for the first time all week, my confidence soared. I glanced at Colt, who had noticeably relaxed. Both of us knew everything would be fine.
For about ten more minutes, I traded insults with the crowd before launching into my songs. They danced and clapped along, sometimes singing a few words of the choruses. They didn’t boo me or heckle me off the stage like in my nightmares.
“For my last song,” I said, “I’d like to slow things down a little. I’ve been going back and forth all week about singing this for you because it’s one of the most personal things I’ve ever written, but since we’re all friends here, I think I’m in safe hands. This one’s called Break Me. Enjoy.”
After I sang the last note, there was silence, then the bar erupted, and I couldn’t stop the happy tears rolling down my face. It seemed as if everything in my life had been building up to this one moment.
“Thank y’all so much. I’ll be here tomorrow night and every night until y’all get sick of me. Hope to see you again, especially you, Mike.” He grinned and tipped his head in my direction.
I jumped off the stage and headed straight for Colt, and not caring who saw, I threw my arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me tight. “I didn’t doubt you for one second.” He released his grip and nodded to a man and a woman standing by his side. “I didn’t want to tell you before you got on stage, but I asked some people to come hear you sing. This here’s Conrad and Missy from Four Leaf Records.”
Conrad grinned. “Stop by around ten on Monday. We’d like to talk to you about a few ideas
