Free Highway Song: A Smokey's Roadhouse Novel by Jessa Jacobs Page B

cleaned up and got dressed, I pondered what he ’ d said. Did I have a thing for Amy? And if I did, so what? She ’ d be with us at most a few more days, and then I ’ d likely never see her again. But he was right. Something about her drew me in and made me want to protect her. Which was funny, because of all the girls I ’ d ever known, I ’ d bet she was the one who least needed my protection.
    What about that switchblade? Where ’ d she learn how to handle that? It wasn ’ t your typical girlie protection device, which usually ran to police whistles and Mace. It was all too much for me in my weakened condition from sleeping too hard in the heat. I decided the best thing to do was get into the relative cool of the bar.
    Inside, I found Kirk sitting at our usual table playing solitaire, while Cole kibitzed. Axel was at the bar annoying Amy, who was smiling at him anyway and fending off his advances with good natured jokes. Mark and Ike hadn ’ t returned yet. In fact, I wondered out loud how they were getting around.
    “ Smokey took them in his pickup. They needed some way to carry the drum kit if they find one, ” Cole answered. That sounded to me like Smokey was a lot more into this gig than I thought.
    I walked over to the bar and took a seat too close to Axel. He scooted his stool over.
    “ Why didn ’ t you wake me up when I asked you to, dickwad? ” I might have sounded a little belligerent.
    “ Um, I thought you needed the sleep? ” he offered.
    “ Try again. ” I was getting a headache from lack of food and the aftereffects of the heavy sleep. He wasn ’ t getting off easy.
    “ Okay, shit. I wanted a chance with Amy, and I figured if you were out of the picture …”
    Amy was standing within earshot. I caught her rolling her eyes
    “ How ’ s that working out for you? ”
    His shoulders slumped. “ It isn ’ t. ”
    “ Get your ass away from her before I kick it for you. Next time I ask you to wake me at ten, you ’ d better be there at nine fifty-nine, watching the second hand count it down. Got it? ”
    He could have objected that he wasn ’ t my personal servant. But lucky for him, he didn ’ t. He just nodded and slid off the stool before wandering off in the direction of our table.
    “ Weren ’ t you kind of hard on him? ” Amy asked.
    “ You didn ’ t mind him coming on to you? ”
    “ I didn ’ t care. I knew I could handle him. You, I ’ m not so sure of. I ’ m not your personal property, you know. ”
    Maybe it was the lingering effects of the nightmare, but that didn ’ t sit right with me.
    “ You will be. ”
    I didn ’ t linger to hear her contradict me. I went over to the table and asked the guys if they wanted to start without Ike, especially since we didn ’ t know if we ’ d have percussion anyway. My suggestion was met with varying degrees of hostility. It seemed I was going to have to explain why I ’ d brought Amy into the bus. I didn ’ t want to have to do it twice, though. I was going to have to wait until Ike and Mark got back.
    My stomach growled, making me wish I hadn ’ t left Amy hanging with that last smart-ass remark. I was going to have to go back and ask her for something to eat. This place was long past giving me claustrophobia. If we didn ’ t get out of here soon, I ’ d repaint the sign to say Hotel California. Or get out on the highway and hitch, with or without the band. I was that desperate.
     
    Not long after Amy had served me a bologna sandwich on white bread to make me regret my giving her attitude, Smokey, Ike, and Mark showed up. Ike was his usual charming self when he carried in the bass drum that said Fighting Utes. Smokey wasn ’ t much happier. He ’ d shelled out a cash deposit to the high school for their band room kit, and it had to be returned by tomorrow at noon. At least that wouldn ’ t be a problem.
    The problem was with Ike. The kit wasn ’ t the set-up he liked, of course. That was a given. We ’ d have to