Everyone shouted my name. I blew out a puff of air and looked at Blake. “Here goes nothing.”
“You’ll do great. You always do.” He stood and came to meet me in front of the bar, lacing his fingers with mine. Then he kissed my forehead and handed me off to my dad, stepping back to watch me the way he always did.
“Okay, Dad. You got me here.” I smiled over his cymbals. “I hope you know Demi Lovato because it’s somewhat of a ritual for me.”
He beamed. “Eva, I’ll play whatever you want. I’m just so damn excited you’re actually doing this.”
I was only kidding. I’d already pre-picked Warrior. There wasn’t much background to the song, so it wasn’t hard for them to learn. There was no way I was singing The Rolling Stones. Mick Jagger, I wasn’t. That song choice was a big step for me, and I selected it knowing the chance I was taking.
The keyboard player softly stroked the keys in a solemn tune. I dipped my head and curled my fingers around the mic stand, closing my eyes and letting the enormity behind the song sink into my veins.
In a soft, low voice, I began telling the story I had never told, letting the words pour from my soul. I used the lyrics to get it off of my chest and let it go. Taking back the light Damon had stolen from me. With my lips bowed, eyes still downcast, I told the story of the pain and the truth I wore like a battle wound, liberation fortifying my voice with each word.
When the chorus came, I looked up with a fierceness in my eyes, a stronger voice leaving my throat to exclaim I was a warrior. I pounded my fist at my side, growing sturdier each passing second.
Blake’s arms were slack at his side, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, but I didn’t let that deter me. I needed to get this out. My voice cracked as I sang about the shame and the scars I would never show. Emotions that had been locked inside me for so long burned leaving my throat, but it felt amazing. I needed Blake to know I was a survivor and because of him I would move past this.
The second chorus came around, and the bar was quiet but for the sound of the keyboard and my voice echoing through the speakers. I straightened my spine and looked past Blake, seeking out the eyes I really needed to find. Damon stood in the corner, his eyes wide and a look of horror on his face. He fisted the bottle in his hand and met my gaze. Undeterred, I stared straight at him as I sang about a little girl who had grown up too fast, telling him I was taking back my life. My lips curled over my teeth in disgust as I bit out every word, squeezing the mic stand so tight my knuckles turned white.
He grabbed Abby by her arm and spoke into her ear. My voice was still ringing from the speakers when they kissed my mother goodbye and he dragged Abby from the bar. I was glad he’d gotten the message. He could never hurt me again. I was sure of it. And, after tomorrow, whether I lost my sister or not, I would make sure he’d never hurt her either.
With my newfound thicker skin, a lone tear rolled down my cheek as I said goodbye to the frightened little girl I’d held onto for far too long.
The ending of the song was met with screaming applause and teary eyes, everyone oblivious to the truth behind my performance.
Everyone but Blake.
My dad came out from behind the drums to hug me, drowning me in praise, but I didn’t hear a word he said. Over his shoulder, I watched Blake. His head was cocked to the side as he studied me with a puzzled look on his face. He turned to look at the door Damon had just exited and then back to me. Then he straightened, his eyes widening as if he was putting together the pieces of my tragic puzzle. He took three long strides and stood before me. He took me by my arm as the band started playing again.
“Come with me.”
He pulled me outside the bar, and I wrapped my arms around myself, shielding the cold. Grabbing my shoulders, he bent to my eye level. “What was that?”
I recoiled. “What was what?”
“Were you singing that to him? Is it him?” His eyes implored mine as he squeezed my upper arms to the point of pain.
“What’re you talking about?” I tried to break his hold, but he tightened his grip.
“Tell me, Angel. If it’s him, so help me God I’ll end his life right now. Fucking tell me!” He shook me.
“Blake stop it. You’re scaring me.” I yanked my arms from his grasp and took a step back. “What’s gotten into you? It was just a song.” My voice broke with fear. I’d never seen him this way.
He stepped toward me, and I backed up again. The vein in his neck was pounding as he bit down tight on his jaw. “You’d tell me right? If it was him? You’d tell me?” His eyes pleaded with me. Begging for the truth I’d never given him.