Free Learning to Forgive (The Learning Series) by R.D. Cole Page B

my eyes. I wonder if she sees my sins or the souls of all the people I’ve killed.
    “Now, I know I’m not supposed to come up here yet, but we have someone very, very special in the crowd tonight. Someone who, I’ve heard through rumors, is pretty damned talented. So I’m gonna need everyone’s help to get ‘em up here. But first I need a fucking beer.” The crowd holds their drinks in the air and hollers. After they calm I once again address my target. “Red?” She arches her brow. “Bring me a beer, would ya? And make sure it’s cold.”
    I’m sure she is calling me every name in the book as she makes her way over to the bar to grab my beer. Honestly, I’m surprised she does it at all, but it seems she wants to leave a favorable impression on good ol’ Jax.
    She makes her way to the front of the stage and holds the bottle in my direction. “Here.” she says with pure irritation.
    I stare her down and shake my head no. “Come up here. You’re holding us up.” As her eyes narrow, my smile widens. Pissing this girl off is my new hobby.
    She makes her way on stage, and fuckers in the crowd make lewd comments. An urge to tell them to fuck off takes hold, but I bite my tongue. I don’t do emotions when it comes to women. I’m not a guy who wants what others have in this world. I accept my life how it is–the good, bad, and fucked up–because I’ve been through worse. But I feel something very close to jealousy with this messed up girl. Why else am I trying to piss her off and help her cope with her fucked up life? To accept this bad hand life’s dealt her? I might feel it, but I don’t fucking like these feelings of anger and fear that she might want one of those asshole’s attention. Fear that she might actually like one of them. Just like with Ryan the other day… I was ready to take her away when he asked her out. Keeping my smile intact, I hide my inner thoughts and realizations. I can’t afford this shit. Not now and not ever. But that doesn’t change the fact that I want her.
    When she is beside me, she once again holds out my drink, but I ignore her and address the crowd instead. If pissing her off is my new hobby, then I’m having a field day. “Isn’t she nice everyone?” The crowd whistles and I look over and see her eyes harden at the same time pink crawls up her neck. Dammit, that is hot . “But not only is she a great waitress, she’s also one hell of a singer. So as a treat, I think she’d love to sing for us. Isn’t that right, Red?”
    When I try to pass the mike, she shakes her head no before attempting to leave. My hand encases her small wrist, halting her. She refuses to look at me so I can’t see her reaction, but it doesn’t deter my tries in pissing her off. “Don’t let us down, Red. Let’s see what you’re made of.”
    In slow motion, she turns my way. The crowd starts to chant ‘Red’ over and over. I see a hint of sadness before it morphs into anger again, then she snatches the mike and shoves my beer in my empty palm. “Fuck you.”
    The crowd laughs as my heartbeat picks up. I love a good fighting partner. I enjoy having these moments of just being a guy in a band, instead of someone who kills people and smuggles drugs. Getting her riled up is icing on the cake. In fact, I might have just found my new habit.
    Grabbing the other mike with my free hand, I decide to entice her to do my bidding. I don’t know why I give a fuck, or if any of this will help her in any way, but my gut tells me it will. I’m pretty fucked up, but I hate seeing someone innocent like her become another walking disaster. I’ve seen a lot of shit, growing up on the streets. “Red? How about we make a bet? You and me sing one song apiece. The audience votes for the winner.”
    She stops pulling away, and her delicate features are cast in the colored lights of the stage. When her green eyes land on me and remind me of Carly, I release her. The likeness is so uncanny that I feel as