Page 246 of Fury

“It is. Reality.”

“My mom’s always been popular, but she never gave it too much importance. When she told me about the two of you, I had to come see for myself.”

“To check me out? See if I’m good enough for her?” I asked.

“No, the kind of man you are is up to her. She’s no dummy. But when she told me about you two, about your history, I had to see her with you.”

The noise and music playing in the bar faded as I focused on Beck’s words. His concentrated, serious face.

“My mother is good at glossing over, making everything seem easy when it isn’t at all. She did that with her work, with my dad, with guys she’s dated. But I always knew there was a piece missing for her.”

“You mean the right man?”

“It’s more than that.” He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “It’s a core piece, the piece that lets her fly. It’s different for everyone, of course, but I was never sure what that was for her.” Beck set his bottle down on the bar with a clink. “It’s that one verse in a song that turns everything around. That makes perfect sense and grips your heart and soul then sends it soaring. Without it the song goes nowhere. From what I’ve seen tonight, you’re her verse, Finger.”

This boy.I put my beer bottle down next to his and held his vibrant blue gaze. “She’s always been my verse.”

Beck’s eyes glistened with water and he swallowed, looking away quickly, leaning back against the bar. “She always pushed me to go after my dreams, and it wasn’t just mommy talk; she knew what that meant. I figured she had her own dream locked inside her. She inspired me with her focus and discipline and her sense of wonder. She literally bred that in me. She blended any fears I had with her excitement, and made me realize it was okay to go out on a limb, to risk, that it was actually good for me—I’d survive somehow, I’d make it. And when I did fall, I’d pick myself up and find another way. That was all part of the journey. And she was right.” He faced me once more, his features back in control. “She’s my rock and she’s my waterfall.”

My heart ached in the hollow of my chest at the frankness and passion in his voice, in those beautiful words. I knew exactly what he meant, and he knew I did.

“She told me your story,” he continued. “I’m sure she’s left plenty out, but that’s okay. I know what I need to know. I’m real glad you two found your way back to each other and that she’s happy. Happy like this.” We watched Lenore laughing at something Grace was telling her. “She finally got her dream.”

“Ah, Beck.” I took in a breath. “Your mother raised an extraordinary man.”

He averted his gaze again. “She’s the extraordinary one.” His lips tipped up softly. He was pleased.

“Total agreement.” My eyes went over his shoulder to the back wall of the bar where I knew there was a photograph. “I think that’s your dad’s band over there in that photo framed in red.” I pointed to it.

He blinked. “Oh, man. Yeah, that’s them.”

I gestured to the bartender and, explaining who Beck was, asked him to bring the photo over.

“Sure thing.” He took it off the wall and handed it to Beck.

“Look at that,” murmured Beck.

I glanced at the image of Cruel Fate rocking in the late nineties in Pete’s Tavern. Tables crowded, standing room only. His dad jammed on his guitar, sharing the mic with a bandmate, howls plastered on their young sweaty faces, long hair flying.

“You’re headed in the same direction, Beck. Enjoy it.”

He dragged his teeth across his lip, staring at the photograph.

I leaned my arms on the bar. “You going to play anything tonight?”

He looked up at me. “I just wanted to come here and see the place.”

“Your mom mentioned she was disappointed she wouldn’t be able to get out and see you perform on this tour.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“It’s open mike tonight. Her best friends are here, and I know we’d all love to hear you play.”

He scanned the bar. “I’m sure the sign up is probably closed by now.”

I put a hand on his arm. “Hold that thought.”

Butler was a guitarist and played here sometimes on open mike nights. If there was an in with management, the musical One-Eyed Jack would be it. I caught his eye, gesturing for him to come over. He did, and I asked him to talk to the manager to get Beck included in tonight’s performers.

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