Breathless. Sharron McClellan
“I get it,” Jess said with a knowing nod, praying the young woman didn’t elaborate.
“Besides,” Liz said, “He’s as smart as Zach, and I love smart men, don’t you? You seem like you’d need a challenge. Like Zach.”
“Um, yeah,” Jess replied, not sure she wanted to go where this conversation was heading.
Nate’s muscled arm pulled Liz away, saving Jess. “No more girl talk. It’s time!”
At the announcement, a cheer rumbled through the bar and the chant of, “Jess. Jess. Jess!”
Heat flamed Jess’s cheeks as she realized that getting her drunk wasn’t the objective. There was more, much more, and it seemed to involve not just the crew but everyone.
“Sorry!” Liz called out over the chanting. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper. “Here.” She handed it to Jess.
“What’s this?” Jess asked, opening it. The original paper was stained but covered with something shiny and smooth. Jess ran her hand over it. Laminated.
She brought it closer to the light. There was a poem printed on it. A badly written poem, both in content and penmanship. “What am I suppose to do with this?” Jess asked, waving the paper, fairly sure she was going to hate the answer.
Zach leaned in so she could hear him. “It’s a song. We want you to sing it.”
Jess’s smile faded. “Sing this?” She’d rather do rum shots.
“Yes. It goes to the tune of ‘Row Row Row Your Boat.’”
For a moment, Jess stared at the crowd, her mouth open. “Of course it does,” she finally managed to say.
Zach grinned at her, daring her to back down.
Oh, hell no. She was not going to give him the satisfaction. She gave a curt nod, and he motioned for the bar to be quiet. The chanting died back. She glared at him. He was a dead man. Later. Taking a deep breath, she sang, “Sail, sail—”
“Wait,” Liz cut her off.
Jess stopped. “What? Was it that bad? I never said I could sing.”
“It’s not that,” Liz said, looking to Zach.
Zach took Jess’s hand. “You have to stand up on the seat. The bar needs to hear it.”
Horrified, Jess shook her head. “No. I draw the line at standing on chairs.”
The bar started clapping and Zach shrugged. “Okay. It’s a bench. Not a chair. And you’ll disappoint everyone.”
She shook her head. “I’m not doing it,” she said through clenched teeth.
“It’s tradition,” Zach countered, his hand tightening around hers.
Tradition. The one phrase he knew she’d give in to. She glared at him. He’d better have steel beneath all that charm, because after this, she was going to beat the hell out of him, given half a chance.
“You’re a dead man, Holiday.”
The threat only made him smile wider.
She pulled her hand away. “I can get up by myself.”
Liz shoved another shot in her hand. “This helps.”
Jess downed it and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Wobbly with the second shot, she managed to stand on the rickety bench. She waved to the room, and they grew silent.
“I’ll get food,” Liz said. “When you’re finished, we’ll eat.” She scooted out but not before kissing her husband.
Nate held up a globe candle, spotlighting her. “So you can see,” he explained.
“If that’s your story.” She turned her attention back to the sheet of laminated paper. There were six stanzas. It was signed Diego.
She glanced down at him. The quiet ones. They were the worst.
Diego grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.
“Sing!” an unknown voice called out.
God, she hated this. “Sail, Sail, Sail a boat, above the briny deep. Watch out for land, watch out for crabs, and never fall asleep.”
She stopped. “Crabs? This is stupid. I mean, really, really, stupid.”
“Louder!” someone shouted.
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Catch, catch, catch a fish from the ocean green. Make it fresh, make it large, with scales like aquamarine.”
God help her, Diego couldn’t write to save his life.
She began the next stanza, and the crowd joined in, their loud, enthusiastic voices overriding her. Despite the fact that her face still burned from embarrassment, Jess smiled.
The room was hers, and she loved it. And apparently, they were pleased with her, as well.
On the fifth stanza, with the crowd still drowning her out, a sudden movement at the bar caught Jess’s attention.
Liz. Her movements were jerky. Wrong. Jess’s voice died and the crowd kept singing. Had Arachne followed her here? Jess stood on her toes to watch for trouble.
Liz was trying to make it back through the crowd, and then someone grabbed her arm. Jess stiffened then realized it wasn’t an assassin. It looked like Trust Fund. And the idiot was trying to kiss Liz—his friends egging him on.
Another movement caught her eye.
Nate, pushing his way through the crowd to his wife.
She hadn’t seen him leave, but from her vantage point, he looked pissed.
Jess shoved Zach’s thigh with her foot, catching his attention. “Problem,” she mouthed, nodding toward the bar.
Zach jumped up, pushing his way through the sea of people with Diego in his wake. With the crowd still singing, Jess jumped down and followed, arriving just in time to see Nate draw back his arm, and then his fist connected with Trust Fund’s jaw. In seconds, Nate was lost in a pile of flailing bodies, and Liz jumped on top to save her husband.
“Get her,” Zach said, turning to Jess as he entered the fray.
In his expression, she saw the steel she’d wondered about, and more. Grabbing Liz, she pulled her off the men. Behind her, she heard the distinct sound of fist hitting flesh. “Stay here,” she said, turning back.
When she turned around, the brawl was in full force, and she spotted Zach and his men at the opposite end of the bar.
“I swear,” she muttered. Why did initiations always seem to end with bruises and blood?
Calmly, she worked her way through the mob, taking time to dodge an uppercut, grab the fist to use its momentum and pull the owner to the ground. She kicked him in the ribs to make sure he stayed down.
Jumping over the moaning man, she reached Nate first. He was standing now, his face dark red as he punched Trust Fund. A few more blows, and Nate would put him in the hospital. “Enough,” she said, grabbing his arm.
Nate hesitated, then let go of the man’s shirt. He fell to the floor in a heap. “Get Liz out of here before she gets hurt,” she shouted, knowing if there was anything that would get Nate’s attention, that was it. Nate nodded and went to find his wife.
Around them, the brawl escalated. She spotted Zach as a fist came out of nowhere, clocking him in the jaw.
Jess winced.
Zach shook his head, stunned, and by the time he moved to retaliate, the man was gone.
“You okay?” Jess asked, keeping her head down.
“Get Diego,” Zach shouted.