Read Redemption Song Online

Authors: Melodie Murray

Redemption Song (8 page)

“Ethan, I’m . . . I’m not sure I can do this.”

Ethan turned to find the color swiftly draining from Alaina’s cheeks. He held back a smirk. She looked hilarious, but cute as heck. He loved her style. Her little purple tank top, loose fitting faded jeans, and her signature Converse shoes. Her hair was long and dark and he noticed that she did wear a little makeup during the day. Her style was very punk rock, but by her current expression, fierce was the last adjective he would use to describe her. She looked like a terrified kid standing there, holding those scissors.

“I thought you said you’d cut Ben’s hair before?” Ethan said.

“Well, I have, but that was different. Ben’s ten and if I messed up, we just combed it funny for a couple of days and hoped nobody noticed. You are not ten, and if I mess up, people will definitely notice.”

Ethan smiled. “Calm down, Alaina. You’re stressing out. It’s just hair.”

“No, it is
Ethan Carter’s
hair, and that little bang flip thing you’ve got going on there is known worldwide. They call it the ‘Carter Cut’.”

Okay, this time he couldn’t hold it back. He had to laugh. “The Carter Cut? Seriously? Where did you hear that?”

“I . . . might have . . . read it somewhere.”

“You Googled me, didn’t you?”

“No!” She sighed and her lips pursed.

He could tell by her guilty grin and the way her eyes darted from his that he was right.

“You did! You Googled me!”

“Well, what did you expect? You’re sharing a room with my brother. I have to look out for him. I’m all he’s got.”

Her comment cut Ethan like a knife as flashbacks of his overturned Camero on that dark mountain road came to mind. Once again, he hoped he would never have to tell Alaina the real reason he was in Alabama. Instead, he made a joke to mask his unease.

“Whatever. You’re a stalker. Just admit it.”

“Yeah, okay,” she replied sarcastically. “That’s why I had never heard even one of your songs until yesterday. If that’s my best attempts at stalking, then I’m terrible at it.”

Ethan paused, unsure if he had heard correctly. “You had never heard my music until yesterday? But you said you’d heard it from Granny Mae’s room?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, but I never listened to an entire song or anything.”

Ethan felt his mouth hanging open slightly. “Wow. I don’t know whether to be insulted or insanely impressed.”

She shrugged. “I told you I don’t listen to that kind of music.”

“So, how was it?”

“Your music? It was . . . cute.”

“Cute?”

“Yeah, cute.”

What did cute mean? Was that good? Ethan had never heard of his music being referred to as cute. Rockin, sure. Jammin, maybe. But cute? Never.

“What does that even mean?” he asked incredulously.

She grabbed his chin, and rotated his face back toward the window. Running her fingers lightly through his hair, she grasped a strand and made her first cut, her courage returning.

“I don’t know,” she said. The songs have good beats and your voice is amazing, but I guess now that I’ve met you, I don’t really see you singing those songs. The lyrics are so poppy and sappy. It just doesn’t feel like you mean what you’re singing. Like you’re just singing for the sake of singing, not to get out a message. Does that sound weird?”

Ethan laughed to himself. “Nope, that doesn’t sound weird at all.”

How had she picked up on that? Alaina had known Ethan for less than a day. How could she—when even his own mother couldn’t—figure out that he hated singing those stupid songs?

Ethan raised a brow. “So I should be singing messages?”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” she said. “You are so famous, Ethan. You have the ability to make a difference in so many people’s lives. I would love to have that kind of opportunity. I wouldn’t waste it by singing corny little love songs about relationships that don’t even exist in the real world.”

Ethan grinned. “I wish you’d just tell me how you really feel.”

Alaina laughed. “I’m sorry. I have this little problem of voicing my opinion even when people don’t ask for it.”

“No, it’s okay. I think I might like that about you.”

Alaina stopped mid-snip and Ethan felt a twinge as the tension between them increased.

“What would you sing about?” Ethan asked, changing the subject.

Alaina paused. “I don’t know. Thankfulness, maybe? Or loss. I would sing about things that could provide encouragement for people going through situations like mine. Something that would help them step back and take a look at the big picture, you know? And I think I might sing about Jesus.”

There it was. The J word.

Their gazes met through mirrored reflections. When Ethan remained silent, Alaina asked, “What? Is that weird?”

Ethan considered this. “No. Not weird.” He paused. “Just, I officially feel like a total jerk.”

Alaina laughed and squeezed her eyes shut tight; her nose scrunched into a cute little line of embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Your music is great, really. I like it . . .”

“No, that’s okay,” he interrupted. “You were just being honest. And in a way, you’re right. I don’t sing about anything important like that. But if it’s any consolation, I have no control over my song selection. Everything I’ve written is still a well kept, treasured secret.”

She looked surprised, continuing to run her fingers lightly through his hair, making the occasional snip here and there. The touch of her fingers in his hair sent chill bumps down his arm.

“Why is that?” she asked.

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask the big-wigs at my label.”

Alaina moved around to the front to work on his bangs. She studied him carefully while continuing to snip at his hair. Why did Ethan get so uncomfortable when she did that? Why did he feel like he owed her more of an explanation? Her huge brown eyes were wide with concentration as she twisted his head slightly from side to side; trying her hardest to make sure that the cut was even. When she was satisfied with her work, she reached for a bit of hair jell and ran it through a small chunk of his hair in the front. Finally, she grabbed a large hand mirror off the nightstand and handed it to him so that he could view the back of his head. The cut was short on the sides and in the back, but spiked just a little right around his bangs. The brown color made his eyes seem extra blue. And he had to admit, it was one of the best, and cheapest, haircuts he’d ever received.

“Well, I’m no big-wig, but personally,” Alaina’s eyes appeared just above his shoulder in the mirror, “I’d love to hear an Ethan Carter original sometime.”

Ethan ran his fingers through his new hair. He couldn’t believe the difference it made in his appearance. With a hat and some sunglasses, it was possible that he might actually be able to walk around like a normal person while he was there. Suddenly, Ethan felt a glimpse of something he hadn’t felt for a long time. Freedom. And it was all thanks to Alaina.

And she wanted to hear his real music. It had been a long time since Ethan had played one of his own songs for anyone, but he was interested to see her reaction to his lyrics. He enjoyed and appreciated her honesty. In fact, he just enjoyed her company.

Ethan shifted his gaze and met her reflecting eyes in the mirror. “Alaina, for you, I think that can be arranged.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

Alaina

 

Alaina was thoroughly impressed with her skills as an amateur cosmetologist. She loved Ethan’s new look, and he’d been right. The change in color and style seemed to alter his looks just enough that people might not realize who he was. Besides, nobody in Fairhope actually knew that Ethan Carter was the grandson of Granny Mae. Apparently, it was a well kept family secret. No one would be expecting to see him roaming the streets of Alabama. Maybe if they weren’t looking for him, it would be less obvious that it was him.

Alaina only hoped it would work because Ethan was itching to get out of the house. He had already asked her what people around there did for fun on a summer Monday night. Alaina informed him that, normally, she would be working, but everyone else usually hung out down by the pier. Which would have been a great outing for them aside from the fact that “hanging out at the pier” was code for getting wasted on the beach, and Alaina had way too much on her plate to be mixed up in the drama of high school parties. She mainly kept to herself, which made it difficult when Ethan asked if she wanted to go out that night and do something fun.

Alaina had sort of forgotten how to have fun.

The latest doctor’s appointment had been almost more than she could handle. She had felt so helpless. Alaina knew chemotherapy couldn’t be comfortable for anyone, but she always just sat there speechless, waiting for it to be over. That kind of stuff was so far out of her league it was ridiculous. And now, another appointment loomed ahead in only a couple of days. Would it get any better this time? Would she be inspired with amazing words of comfort at the perfect time; something that would turn the entire situation around? Probably not.

Alaina merely wished there was something she could do, but she wasn’t a doctor. She was a teenager whom, only a year ago, thought she had lost everything, only to realize that she still had so much left to lose.

Alaina had lost a piece of herself after her parent’s untimely death. A piece that she didn’t think would ever fully fill in. How many pieces did she have left? She didn’t think she could stand to lose any more chunks of her heart to the death of someone she loved. It was too much. So she did the only thing she knew to do.

She prayed.

Alaina found her strength in God. That was the cause of the wear and tear on the ragged Bible that sat on her little table by the window. Countless nights, when she couldn’t sleep, her Bible was the only thing that calmed her nerves to the point that she could keep her body tied to her bed. Her mood shifted constantly. On her helpless nights she simply sat and stared, unable to move a muscle, trying to find some way of coming to terms with what was happening. On her angry nights, she wanted to run out into the streets and scream at the top of her lungs until someone pointlessly challenged her to shut up. On her hopeless nights, she stuffed her face in her pillow to keep Ben from hearing her uncontrollable sobs. She didn’t want to scare Ben. He didn’t need that. He was too young. She was all he had. She needed to be strong for him.

And then, out of nowhere, Ethan Carter walked into her life.

Ethan might have just been using her to help him stay undercover, but Alaina couldn’t express to him how much of a comfort the distraction of his presence was. He obviously had no clue what was going on, which made her a little sad, but he would find out in due time. It was inevitable.

Alaina had almost reconsidered when Ethan asked her to go out with him. She was afraid to leave Granny Mae. Alaina held a huge responsibility to her. Granny Mae had taken her and Ben in when they needed her the most and there was no repaying that. The last thing Alaina wanted was to inconvenience her in any way.

But when Granny Mae caught a glimpse of Ethan’s new look and heard that he wanted to get out of the house and do something normal for a change, she had insisted that Alaina go.

“Sweetie, believe it or not, you are still a kid and you have the right to a little fun every now and then,” Granny Mae had said. “Now you go spend some time with Ethan. He’s surrounded by adults all the time. I bet he’s glad to have found a friend like you.”

So that was that. Now, Alaina sat alone in her bedroom wondering what on earth she and Ethan could possibly do in Fairhope that he would find the least bit entertaining. What should she wear? She didn’t want to dress like a bum in case they went to a nice restaurant, but she also didn’t want to get too dressed up. Obviously, Ethan Carter was not asking her out on a date (as if she even had time to date). This was strictly a platonic outing. She didn’t want him to think that she had gotten the wrong impression.

After changing outfits about five times, she finally settled on some calf length leggings with a little sundress and a different pair of Converse’s than she’d worn earlier in the day. Alaina had never been much for heels. She didn’t see the point in forcing herself to walk around in something that made her want to cut her own feet off by the end of the night. Granted, she could have used the extra height, but heels still weren’t worth it.

Alaina was grabbing her clutch purse and heading for the door when she was surprised to hear a tiny knock from the other side of it. No one ever knocked on her door . . .

She did one last mirror check and reached for the knob. She turned it slowly to reveal the source of the knocking.

Ethan stood before her with an excited grin plastered on his face. His dimples showed when he smiled that big. His eyes were the brightest blue she’d ever seen. He wore a pair of long khaki cargo shorts with a deep blue, polo style, short-sleeved shirt. In his hand was a single yellow rose, just like the ones that grew out back in the garden.

“Hey,” Ethan said a little sheepishly. “It’s hard to pick someone up when you live in the same house. I’m sorry. This was the best I could do.”

Alaina was speechless. She reached out for the rose as Ethan handed it to her. “Wow, thanks.”

“I just wanted to do something to thank you for all of your help today. It’s not every day you get some paranoid pop singer asking you to do his hair.”

Alaina smiled and held the rose to her nose. She loved the smell. “No problem. It was fun . . . and I think the new cut makes you look . . . handsome.”

There went her big mouth again. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

“You do?”

No backing out now. “Uh . . . yeah.”

Alaina’s eyes darted up quickly from their spot on the floor and immediately locked with Ethan’s. Their gazes held for a brief moment until they simultaneously shook loose and turned their focus.

“Are you ready?” Ethan asked, stepping aside so that Alaina could make her way into the hall.

Other books

Succumbing To His Fear by River Mitchell
Not Fit for a King? by Jane Porter
The Bridge by Robert Knott
A Clear Conscience by Frances Fyfield
Sacrifice by Jennifer Quintenz
Becoming Countess Dumont by K Webster, Mickey Reed
A Drink Called Paradise by Terese Svoboda
Eternal by Kristi Cook


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024