Free In Tune (Red Bird Trail Trilogy Book 3) by Laramie Briscoe Page B

me stuff to wear?” she asked B.
    B held up a clothing bag and what looked like a makeup bag. “I gotcha covered. You’re not going to know who you are when I get done with you.”
    Harper hoped like hell no one else knew who she was either. Cash had received his papers that told him how much his fine was going to be, and after seeing it was more than two month’s rent, she knew she was going to have to do something drastic. He was going to try and plead, because they couldn’t afford to lose their insurance, but things would still need to be paid for, and they’d both come to an agreement that he wouldn’t do the Trail again. They couldn’t take that chance.
    “Fix me up,” she told them, trusting them completely.
    “We’re gonna have so much fun.” B grinned.
    *
    Harper gave herself a once-over in the mirror situated in the dressing room. The skirt she wore was short, the heels she wore were high, and the shirt she wore was tight. B had done her makeup smoky and her hair was “jacked to Jesus”—or so Wanda had said as she’d given her a thumbs-up.
    “What’s your song?” B asked.
    “Song?” This was all such a new experience to Harper, she had no idea what the other woman was talking about.
    “You know, your song. The one, the minute it comes on, makes you want to give anyone around a strip show? Every woman has that one song. Mine is ‘Porn Star Dancing’. Can’t even explain it, but when I hear it, I want to shake my ass and get paid for it.”
    Harper went through her mental database of songs that made her want to get up and shake her ass. It took her a few moments, but then it dawned on her. “‘Rocky Mountain Way’, but the Godsmack version.”
    “Hell, yeah, now go out there and make some money!” B gave her a high-five and went to give her request to the DJ working that night.
    It was easy for B to say; she had made a living showing off her body for a long time. Harper never showed hers to anyone except Cash, but she thought about how far the money would go. She would be able to buy Christmas gifts, maybe put some back in savings. She knew this wasn’t something she would do all the time, but especially with the ticket and the fees, desperate times called for desperate measures.
    She looked out over the crowd and gasped. Cash was not supposed to be helping out tonight, but she could see the back of his head, and she wondered what he would do if he caught a glimpse of her. So deep in her thoughts she hadn’t even heard them introduce her, B pushed her so that she stumbled onto the stage. Harper had never been in this situation before, and she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to act or respond to the catcalls from the men in the audience.
    “Go for it,” B yelled at her. “Look at Cash, and go for it.”
    Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, not sure she could look at Cash. It embarrassed her even more to know he was in the crowd and still hadn’t turned around yet.
    Walking further out onto the stage, she decided that if she was going to do this, she was going to do it right. It was easy to pretend she was dancing for Cash, and she was in good shape—it was nothing for her to grab onto the pole in the middle and swing around on it, attempting to do moves she’d seen other women do before in movies.
    She watched the back of Cash’s head as she came to a stop and stood in the middle of the stage. She teased the crowd, suggesting she was going to take off her shirt. The whistles of approval and the dollar bills thrown on stage were enough of an incentive for her to keep going. She took the skirt off, winking at one of the guys in the crowd and moving her head this way and that, letting her hair obscure her vision. It was easier that way.
    She dropped to the ground and crawled towards where Cash stood, shaking her chest and letting the men in the front row get a good look at her covered tits. Slowly, she approached Cash, and when she got close enough, she snaked her arms