Disclaimer: I do not own Nashville or any of its music, characters, and dialogue.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay! But, YAY, Nashville is coming back for season 5! I'm so excited, and I'm very eager to keep up with my Nashville fanfic stories!

So, here's chapter 11! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think!

Nashville's Sweetheart

11

"What time you gotta be home?" They were panting slightly in Deacon's truck. It was a Friday night and they were parked on the side of the road. "I really wish you'd let me drive you there."

"I already told you that my Daddy doesn't want me dating anyone." Rayna leaned forward and pressed her lips against his once more, taking in their warmth and moisture. "Just drop me off for the ten o'clock bus."

"A'ight, darlin'." He put a hand on her face and then leaned in again, his tongue dancing with hers.

"Well," she said after a couple minutes, her breath hitched again, "maybe the ten thirty bus."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Randy Travis is comin' to the Ryman?" Twisting the phone's cord, Rayna was stretched across her bed, her mouth gaping from where her head hung over the edge. "No way!"

"He sure is," said Deacon on the other line, "and guess what?"

"What?"

"I got us tickets."

Rayna let out a squeal and then sat up, her bun falling out of place on her head. "Are you serious?"

"Serious as a heart attack."

"Deacon! That's great!"

"Yeah, well, I thought you deserved a bit of a treat."

Things were going really well between the two of them. February had arrived and they had been playing together regularly at Rayna's Monday night gig. They weren't quite singing together, though – per Watty's demands, Deacon played as her guitarist on stage whenever they needed one, which created a weird sort of powerful chemistry that even Watty couldn't deny. Apparently Rayna was right on the cusp of getting to talk seriously with Edgehill, so Watty had to bite his tongue and let them keep doing what they were doing since it was working.

It was all so strange and so incredible, really. Deacon had quit his job at the coffee shop and got a job at the Blue Bird, which was a place legendary for country music artists – aspiring and established alike. Rayna had been plugging away at school with the sincere hopes of getting her GED by the end of the school year, and her father still didn't know about any of this, which was truly a miracle.

They were both simply doing what they loved and starting to make actual names of themselves.

Deacon started laughing at Rayna's best Randy Travis impersonation, and Rayna felt her heart flutter. She loved his laugh and the way it made him sound so boyish. She'd been spending more time with him lately since they'd play together and even started writing together, and even though Watty continued to hassle her about it, she didn't care. Things were absolutely perfect.

"Oh, shoot." Rayna heard footsteps down the hall, so she jumped out of bed and went over to her nightstand. "I gotta go, Deacon. I'll call you later."

Just as Rayna put the phone back on the receiver and plopped back down on her bed, her bedroom door swung open and her father appeared in the frame, looking murderous.

"Get up," he ordered, his eyes glaring into hers. "Get up and get downstairs. Now."

"Why?" Rayna stood up, but she didn't move toward the door. "What's wrong, Daddy?"

"Get downstairs, Rayna."

"But why?"

"Don't make me drag you down there!"

Something was wrong. Even though her father was an asshole, he never was quite this bad. Feeling her body stiffen with fear and apprehension, Rayna obeyed and made her way down the stairs, aware of her father following close behind her.

"Tandy?" Her sister was waiting for them downstairs in the living room, and the look on her face said it all: he knew.

"So," said Lamar once Rayna was seated beside Tandy. Their shoulders were brushing, but they weren't looking at each other. "So."

How much did he know? Rayna didn't dare look at Tandy. She didn't know for sure that her father knew about her performances, but that was the most likely possibility in this case. Why else would he be so livid? What else could make him flare up like this?

He had been this was with Rayna's mother, too. He had hated how she always went out to play shows and how she spent so much time with Watty in the studio because he just didn't understand. To him, success and happiness only came from having a lot of money and working in the business sector. It's what he intended Tandy to do after she went to college, and it's what he had hinted that he wanted Rayna to do, too, though he understand the complications of her academics and lack of motivation.

"I want you to explain this to me." Lamar threw down a stack of photographs, the first one being one of Rayna singing on stage at her Monday night gig. Rayna's eyes widened as she picked up the pictures and leafed through them, her heart stopping when she found one of her and Deacon laughing at their table.

"Who is that, Rayna?"

"No one," she whispered, her eyes locked on Deacon's face, so keenly shaved and alive in the photo.

"His name is Deacon Claybourne," Lamar answered for her, "and he's a seventeen year-old high school dropout from Mississippi who used to work at the coffee shop you frequented and who purchases far too much alcohol with a fake ID."

"How do you know all of this?" Rayna snapped her head up to glare at him, feeling her pressure rise. It was one thing to have a private investigator follow her around at night, but it was another to do a complete background check on one of her acquaintances. It was psychotic, really, and Rayna felt herself grow angrier and angrier with each passing second.

And most importantly, Rayna thought, if Daddy knew about Deacon, did Deacon know about Daddy?

"I had you followed, of course, and I looked into all of your associations."

"How could you?" Rayna howled, throwing the pictures down on the table and jumping up to stand in front of him. "Don't you respect my privacy? Don't you even care that you're being such a dick?"

"I respect your privacy, Rayna," Lamar drawled, "but I don't respect you lying to me and sneaking around. You couldn't have been foolish enough to think that I believed you had private tutoring all the time, could you? And that your C average, while an improvement, was indicative of such tutoring?"

How could Rayna have been so foolish! That excuse only could have worked for so long. This was really all her fault for getting sloppy and for thinking that everything could go exactly the way she wanted. Perhaps she'd gotten too caught up in her other life or perhaps she just didn't care, but he hadn't been careful, and it came back to bite her.

At this point, Rayna turned around to glare at Tandy. "Did you tell him, then? Just had to get the best of me, huh?" Rayna had trusted her sister. Tandy was fierce and strict and uptight, but Rayna had thought that she was at least still loyal.

"Rayna, I didn't even fully know what you were doing!" Tandy answered, her eyes pained as she looked back and forth from Lamar to Rayna. "I knew you were up to something, but not all this! Rayna, it's not very smart and not very safe. You need to get your head out of the clouds."

"My head is just fine!" Out of frustration, Rayna stomped her foot and crossed her arms. This couldn't be happening. After all these months of hard work, after how far she'd come, after everything she sacrificed…

"What happens now," Lamar continued, his arms crossed and his eyes cold, "is that you cut all activity. I've already contacted Mr. Watty White, and I daresay that there won't be anymore late night gigs for you, young lady."