Chapter 11

Richie squinted as he peered through the pickup’s grimy windshield.  They were on another back road, slowly rolling along the gravel path through the pine forest.

Annie glanced sideways at Richie, chuckling at his pensive expression.  “Gettin’ worried?” she teased.

“A little.  After that hooch you fed me back at the house, I’m starting to think you’re not as sweet and innocent as you seem.”  Richie gave Annie a little grin.

Annie smirked as she kept her eyes on the road.  “I never claimed to be sweet and innocent.”

Richie didn’t answer but his grin widened as he looked out his window.

A few bumpy minutes later moonlight flooded Richie’s view as the truck emerged from the trees.  Ahead of them stretched miles of marsh, the tall grasses rippling in the moonlight.  Annie guided the truck to the right, following the dirt path as it turned South.

About a half-mile in the distance Richie spied a building, a soft bluish light glowing from its exterior.  He assumed that was their destination since there was clearly no other sign of human life.  As they drew nearer Richie could see the building was actually an old barn, sided in weathered wood and roofed in tarnished corrugated metal.

A wooden porch had been affixed to the front of the structure, spanning its length.  The addition made the building look like some sort of half-house, half-shed.  The shack was surrounded by an assortment of old cars and beat-up trucks, crowded into a gravel lot.

"What is this place?"  Richie watched a pair of men approach the building and mount the porch steps.  A rectangle of reddish-blue light glowed briefly in the open doorway as they entered the building.  Through his half-open window Richie heard a cacophony of guitars, drums, and bass.

"This..."  Annie pulled the truck on to a patch of sparse grass at the parking lot's edge.  "... is Ruby Mae's."  She threw the transmission in park and killed the engine before she turned to face Richie with a smile.  "Worst-kept secret in McIntosh County.  Also the best Juke Joint you're gonna find anywhere 'round here."

Richie's gut tightened at Annie's words.  He had spent the past few months hanging around music halls and bars, begging for the chance to play.  Now that he had finally conceded defeat and walked away from his dream the last place he felt like going was a live music joint.  

Annie watched as Richie took a deep breath and swiveled his gaze back to the building in front of them.  She could almost feel the return of his sadness as his shoulders slumped.

Annie cursed silently.  She had hoped Richie would enjoy this place, that maybe he would relax and open up to her.  This was her refuge, where she sought solace when the hard reality of life closed in on her.  Listening to the Blues always soothed her soul.

"Richie?"  Annie's voice was soft, almost apologetic.  "We don't have to stay if you don't wanna.  We can do somethin' else.  I just thought maybe we'd grab a drink..."

Her gentle tone filled Richie's heart with guilt.   You stupid Fuck.  Where the hell else did you think you'd be going tonight, out here in the middle of nowhere?  Of course she was gonna take you to a bar.

Richie shook his head vigorously, cursing his inability to hide his reaction.  "No!  Annie, I want to.... I mean, if this is where you want to go, I'm game."  He gave her a half-hearted smile.

Annie arched a brow.  "You sure?"  She saw the glint of sadness that flashed through Richie's chocolate eyes.

"Yeah.  I'm sure."  Richie nodded again, smiling more brightly.  "Umm... so this is where you get into all that mischief?"  He attempted to lighten the moment by recalling the phrase he and Annie had bantered about earlier.

Annie giggled softly.  "Somethin' like that."  She reached over to squeeze Richie's hand.  "I like to come here, to escape.  It's the kinda place where you can be with a bunch of people or by yourself, all in the same room.  Whatever you need."  She left her hand resting on Richie's as she gazed at him, her blue eyes shining hopefully.

Richie looked down at his lap, his heart again warming at her touch.  He turned his hand under Annie's until their palms brushed together.  "Sounds great," he replied, trying to muster his enthusiasm.  "Besides, I could use a beer."  He chuckled throatily.  "They got that here, don't they?  Or is everything here.. uh... home-brewed?"

Annie's musical laughter made Richie's smile turn genuine.  "No more moonshine for you, huh?"

"Nuh-Uh.  Sticking to the stuff with labels."  Richie looked up, his gaze meeting hers.  "C'mon.  I'll buy ya a beer."

Annie squeezed Richie's hand again before pulling hers away and turning to open her door.  They climbed out of the pickup then together crossed the lot, weaving single-file in between closely-parked vehicles on their way to the front porch steps.

A blast of raucous music greeted them when they pulled open the sagging front door.  Richie followed Annie inside, blinking as his eyes tried to adjust to the smoky, bluish haze.  He stepped aside so he wasn't blocking the entry and looked around.

It was a large, open room, but not not nearly as big as the building looked from the outside.  As his gaze swept to his left Richie realized a long wall cleaved the old barn, separating this space from another. His eyes traveled down the wall to a dark doorway in the back corner.  A slice of red light glowed at the floor, clueing him in to the probably-illicit activity taking place behind the wall.

Richie had spent enough time in the South to know that most clubs had not-so-secret gambling halls in the back room.  He was willing to bet if he wandered through that door he would find at least a couple dozen men shooting dice or playing cards.  He had also spent enough time in similar establishments in North Jersey to know better than to enter such a room uninvited.

His curiosity satisfied enough, Richie let his eyes slide back along the wall to the makeshift bar near the door.  It was crudely fashioned of two-by-fours and corrugated metal, topped with a peeling laminate countertop.  Two battered Frigidaires stood against the wall behind the bar next to a long counter covered with an assortment of cans, bottles, and glasses.  Richie snorted when he spied a couple ominous-looking glass jugs.  He wondered if they contained a brew similar to what Annie had poured from her Mason jar.

On the wall behind the bar was a long, cracked mirror adorned with taped-up photographs and magazine pages.  There was no evidence of a liquor license.

A beefy black man wearing a white apron around his waist leaned on one hand against the bar, conversing loudly with a grizzled older patron.  On wooden stools perched tired-looking men, hunched over their glasses on the bartop or grinning slyly at a couple voluptuous ebony-skinned women who hovered close by.

The back half of the room was crowded with mismatched tables and chairs, most of them occupied or temporarily vacated.  Between the tables and a raised platform opposite the front door an informal dance floor was packed with sweaty, dark-skinned bodies gyrating to the sultry, funky beat provided by the house band.

As his eyes swept over the tables and dancers Richie realized he and Annie were definitely in the minority in this room.  Only a few other white patrons mingled here and there.

Richie felt another little stab of pain as his gaze settled on the quintet on the stage.   The musicians were all older Negro men, with one exception.  A young black man sat perched on a stool, his fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings of a dark blonde Gibson electric guitar, his head back and his eyes closed as he grooved with the beat.  Beside him a gray-haired man picked at a big battered bass violin.  The band was rounded out by a portly but energetic piano player, a paunchy, heavy-jowled trumpeter, and a thin, anemic-looking man smoking a cigarette while he pounded out the beat on his drum kit.

Annie watched Richie as he stared at the guitarist on the stage, his smile melting away.  Her heart swelled with sympathy.  That instrument was obviously the source of his melancholy.  Annabelle was certain Richie's sad story was locked up in that battered case he had been toting down the road when their paths crossed yesterday.

"Hey, you owe me a beer, remember?"  Annie gently squeezed Richie's elbow and tipped her head toward the bar when he turned to look at her.  "I'll see if I can find us a table."

Richie nodded, forcing himself to smile back at her.  "Okay."  He was just ready to turn for the bar when a loud, deep drawl caught his attention.

"Hey there, Annie.  Didn't think I'd see you here tonight."  A burly young blonde man with a sparse moustache and long sideburns pushed past Richie to stand beside Annabelle.  He slid an arm around her shoulders and gave Richie a long once-over.  His steely blue eyes narrowed slightly with his suspicious appraisal.  "This your friend from up North?"

Richie immediately tensed at the man's challenging tone.  He stared back at Annie's friend, feeling a pang of jealousy at the sight of his arm around her.

"Oh, so you heard, too."  Annie's voice was calm, but some of its gentle lilt had disappeared.  "Rex, this is Richie."  Annie took a little step forward, shrugging his arm off her shoulders.

"Yeah, I heard.  Everybody in town heard about the new guy at Eddie's Texaco."  Rex replied to Annie's comment before extending a beefy hand.  "Rex Farrell."

"Richie Sambora."  Richie accepted the gesture, his pulse jumping just a little when Rex's hand squeezed tightly around his for a perfunctory shake.  It was clear from both his expression and his handshake that Rex was not thrilled by their meeting.

"So, you're from New York. What you doin' all the way down here in Darien?"  Rex stepped closer to Annie and again rested his arm around her shoulders, silently relaying his claim on her.

"New Jersey.  And just passin' through."  Richie's voice was flat as he stared back at Rex.  He watched Annie calmly remove Rex's arm from her shoulders again.  The man was barrel-chested and thick-necked, and probably outweighed Richie by a good fifty pounds.  But Richie would be damned if he was going to back down, especially since Annie clearly was not receptive to Rex's familiarity.

"Eddie's fixin' Richie's car.  It won't be done 'til Monday, so I'm showin' him what there is to do in Darien on a Saturday night."  Annie calmly explained the situation to Rex, then stepped over beside Richie so she stood facing the big man.  Her arm brushed against Richie's as she smiled placatingly.  "Thought he might like to take in a little of the local culture while he's down here."

"Mmm."  Rex nodded slowly, his eyes lingering on Richie for another long moment before they turned to Annie.  The big man gave her a tight-lipped grin.  "You know this crowd ain't too partial to strangers.  Don't trust 'em."

Annie let out an exasperated little snort.  "Rex, you know as well as I do that anybody who's here with me is gonna be just fine."

"Yeah, well.... I'll be watchin' out, just in case."  Rex's steely eyes found Richie's again, ensuring he got the message.

Annie sighed, but her voice remained even and calm.  "Rex, I been comin' here for years.  Everybody knows me.  Ain't nobody gonna mess with me tonight or any night."  She dropped her chin and gave the big man a pointed look.  "And ain't nobody gonna mess with my friend."

Just as she spoke the band ended their song and the crowd broke into applause and whooping cheers.  Annie paused, waiting for the noise to die down, then smiled.  "But thanks for lookin' out for me.  It's mighty gentlemanly of you."

Richie caught the hint of sarcasm in Annie's tone, and he couldn't stop a slight smirk from curling the corner of his mouth.  It was obvious Annie wasn't going to take any shit from this guy, but she wasn't going to make a scene either.  And Richie would be damned if he was going to let this guy bully her.  Rex could probably take him out if it came to that, but Richie was gonna make him hurt first.

Annie snickered quietly as she watched Rex and Richie attempt stare each other down.  Then she rolled her eyes and reached for Richie's hand as the opening notes of a new song filled the air.  "Have a good night, Rex.  C'mon, Richie.  Dance with me."

"Evenin',"  Rex nodded curtly at Richie as Annie tugged at his hand.

"Evenin'." Richie replied tersely, then turned to follow Annie as she pushed her way between the closely-packed tables toward the dance floor.  He realized as they moved that he recognized the song the band was playing.  It was an oldie but a favorite of his, Otis Redding's "Dock of the Bay."  When they reached a small clear space Annie turned toward Richie and smiled.

"Sorry 'bout that.  Rex really is a good guy.  He's just a little protective of me."  She started to raise her arms to Richie's neck but stopped in surprise when he captured her right hand with his left and placed his other hand on her hip.

"Uh... Oh!"  Annie was taken aback as Richie stood gazing down at her, waiting for her to follow his lead.  It had been a long time since a man had danced properly with her.  In fact, it hadn't even been a man, it had been a boy in her high school etiquette class.  And then only because they were required to learn ballroom dancing for the Spring Cotillion.

Richie frowned as he began to move, smoothly guiding Annie into a slow, rhythmic sway.  "Why's that? He sure didn't seem too happy to see you with a guy."

Annie rested her left hand on Richie's shoulder as she let him guide her in their dance.  She chuckled softly at his obvious jealousy, enjoying the little surge of excitement that jolted through her at the realization.  "Well, he's always been that way, especially since we used to date."

Richie's pupils dilated slightly at news, delivered matter-of-factly in Annie's gentle drawl.  "Used to date?  Like back in High School?"

"And a little bit after that."  Annie's eyes sparkled as she gave Richie a sweet smile.  "But now we're just friends.  We haven't been together in a couple years."

"Does he know that?"  Richie's gaze flickered across the room to the spot by the front door, where Rex still stood.

Annie laughed softly.  "Yes.  He does.  We've both dated other people.  He just takes his job seriously, is all. Very seriously."

Richie snorted derisively.  "His job?  He's some kind of Bouncer at a backwoods Juke Joint."   He winced slightly as the words rolled off his tongue, realizing how demeaning they sounded.  He hoped Annie wouldn't take offense.

Annie gazed at Richie for a second, her eyes tracing over his stormy features as another surge of heat coursed through her.  She could hardly believe her eyes and ears.  Richie had been so quiet and polite and shy in the short time she had known him.  Now all of a sudden here he was, a man full of testosterone and adrenaline, ready to defend her against an unwanted suitor.

"Rex isn't a Bouncer, Richie.  He's a Deputy Sheriff.  He hangs out here off-duty to keep an eye on things, be sure they don't get out of hand."  Annie almost giggled when she saw Richie's eyes widen momentarily, then narrow.

"So that makes him some kinda Hot Shit?  Makes him think he owns you?"

This time Annie couldn't help herself.  She chortled huskily, her blue eyes sparkling as she grinned at Richie.  "Don't worry, Richie.  He doesn't own me, and he damned well knows it.  He just wants to be sure you don't take advantage of me, that's all."

With her words Annabelle slipped her hand from Richie's and stepped in close.  "And trust me, if I want to be taken advantage of, there's not a damned thing he can do about it."  She pressed her body against his, exhaling softly with the contact.  Circling her arms around Richie's neck, she continued to sway in time with the music, to his lead.

Richie inhaled sharply at her words and at the feel of Annie's soft curves pressed against him.  His dick jumped against his zipper and his mind went momentarily blank.  Automatically his arms slid around Annie's waist, his hands resting together at the small of her back.

Annie purred softly and turned her cheek to rest against Richie's chest, letting her eyes drift shut as she savored the feel of his arms around her.  She had been yearning to do this ever since she had gazed down at his sleeping form on her couch this morning.  The sensation of his embrace had been the subject of her daydreams all afternoon.

It felt even better than she had imagined.

Richie's entire body tingled as he held Annie, guiding her in a slow revolution on the dance floor.  He stared ahead unseeing for the first minute, just breathing in the heavenly scent of her hair and reveling in the warmth of her flesh.  It was like they were in their own world, the only two people in this room swaying to the music's gentle beat.

Slowly Richie's senses returned:  first hearing, then smell, then touch, then sight.  As he turned slowly toward the back of the room with Annie in his arms Richie's gaze traveled to the front door.  His chocolate eyes narrowed as they met Rex's moody stare.

Then a triumphant smirk curved his lips as he tightened his arms around Annie and continued to dance.