Disclaimer: I do not own Nashville or any of its music, characters, and dialogue.
A/N: Hey y'all! I'm SO sorry for the delay. School started back up (my last semester!), and the workload has been overwhelming. I had some spare time to work on this story, though, so here is part 2! I borrowed a couple lines of dialogue from the show's CMA episode, but the rest is pretty much my own events tailored to the circumstances of my story.
Please review and let me know what you think! I'm working on chapter 22 and will update as soon as I can. Thanks for reading, and have a great day!
Ball and Chain(ed)
21.
"Country Must Be Country Wide" Part 2 (Jason Aldean)
"What the hell are you doing?"
Swinging the bathroom door open, Deacon and Rayna walked in to confront a very angry Luke. His hands were clutching the bathroom stall, as if ready to kick it down, and as he turned around to face them, Rayna saw a wild rage in his eyes. She'd never seen that kind of sheer, unadulterated bitterness in him before. It was so jarring and so crazed, and if Rayna were to be honest, it frightened her a little.
"I'm pretty sure this is the men's room," Luke snarled. Rayna caught his eye, and then she looked away, suddenly wishing that she'd just gone back to her seat after accepting the award with Deacon. Confronting Luke had felt like a good idea at the time, but maybe this had evolved to a completely other level; maybe it would be better if they all just left the awards show.
"Hey, don't talk to her like that!"
"Don't tell me what to do!"
The two men moved forward and were standing with their faces merely inches apart. Deacon's fists were curled and Luke's entire body was tense. The tension in the room was overwhelming, and it made Rayna feel a bit whoozy.
"I'll whatever I damn well please, thank you very much."
"You will not! This ain't the Deacon Claybourne show here. You might have all of them in the palm of 'ur hands, but not me, Deacon. To me, you're still just that out-of-control drunk who'll never amount to anything. Anything."
"Stop it!" Before Deacon could reach forward and punch Luke square in the face, Rayna rushed between them, her heart pounding. This had escalated at an alarming rate, and whether they all liked it or not, they had to straighten up and get back to their seats. They were unfortunately something of a public intrigue, so it wouldn't be long before people came looking for them. Leaving, Rayna realized, wouldn't do any good for any of their public images, so they had to tough it out. "For the love of God, just stop it! Y'all have been like this all night, and I can't take it anymore. You're making fools of us all. And I will not be made a fool with so much on the line. Is that understood?"
The two looked up to glance at her, but they said nothing. Deacon backed off, his breathing heavy and his eyes still trained on Luke, and Luke merely stared back at him, sneering. This is going to be a long night, Rayna thought, trying very hard to keep her carefully-guarded composure. Lord, please just get me through the rest of this night.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Unbelievable. It was truly unbelievable. As Rayna threw her hands in the air and walked out of the bathroom, Deacon stayed behind to have a final word with Luke, feeling his entire body shake with a deeply-ingrained fury. Deacon had been angry about a lot of things over the course of his life, but it had never been quite like this. Luke had just told Rayna that all her success came from the fact that she was pregnant with his child and that he had proposed to her the night of her album's launch. It was like she owed everything to him – like shewas nothing without him. As if that could ever be true!
Deacon had seen this coming back when the CMA nominations first came out, and if it weren't for the fact that Luke was the father of Rayna's unborn child and that Deacon was trying very hard to control his temper, he would have punched the living daylights out of him.
"Let me just say this, you bastard," said Deacon coolly and evenly. "You don't deserve Rayna, and if I can do anything about it, you're never gonna have her. Now go clean yourself up and meet us back out there. It's the least you can do for her."
Without even giving Luke a chance to respond, Deacon turned around and stormed out of the bathroom, feeling proud. He usually handled things like that with his fists, but he'd been able to hold back. It was a step in the right direction for him, and maybe, just maybe, that'd be enough for Rayna to see that he was finally ready to be the man that she always wanted him to be.
"Deacon!" As Deacon turned and continued down the hall, he looked over to see Keith Urban coming up to him, his eyes concerned. "Hey, man, what's goin' on?"
Keith and Deacon went way back. Back in 1992 when Keith first moved to Nashville, Rayna was just starting to pick up some steam. She and Deacon had been doing small, low-key venues all around the south, and Keith was part of a band called The Ranch. They all met at one of the music awards in Nashville, and after having a guitar face-off (which Deacon lost, but he couldn't blame himself because, well, it was against Keith Urban), the two guitarists had formed a solid friendship.
"Too much to air out here, Keith." Wasn't that the truth. "But it's all good."
"Well, I know you're not asking for it, but I'd like to offer some advice," said Keith. He moved to put a hand on Deacon's shoulder. "Advice from a friend. A good friend."
Keith meant well. He really did, and Deacon could appreciate that. "Alright, then."
"Don't worry about what everyone thinks and what everyone says. You and I both know how Luke can be, and I can't say that I envy the position that Rayna is in. But do what's right, and don't think anything of it."
What exactly was he saying? Looking into his friend's eyes, Deacon saw a soft sense of compassion and understanding flecked in their blue depths. He didn't find judgment or disproval, but true sincerity.
"I've gotta get goin' because they need me on stage soon," Keith finally said, "but good luck, brother. And tell Rayna that she's got my vote for Entertainer."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"And now," said Joe Nichols, "for the big award of the night: Entertainer of the Year."
The Bridgestone Arena grew silent and nervous whispers filled the air. This indeed was the most coveted award of the night since the Entertainer of the Year Award reflected not only musical excellence but also performance, awareness, publicity, and everything else that went into being an entertainer in the country music business. It was truly an honor even to be nominated for such an award, but for Rayna, winning would be an even greater honor. She had been nominated a few times back in the 90s and won the award once, but to win tonight would prove to the world that Rayna Jaymes was back and that she wasn't going anywhere. And that she can hold her own, without Luke.
"You got this, Ray." Deacon's mouth was near her ear, and she felt his hand rest lightly on her thigh. His touch was warm and felt good over the satin material of her dress, and for a brief moment, Rayna felt heat rush to her cheeks. She was reminded of all the times that his thigh-touching had led to much more, and the thought made her feel both excited and self-conscious.
Glancing around the arena, Rayna still couldn't see Luke. He hadn't come back after the bathroom incident, even though Raya had made it clear that he needed to suck it up and act like a goddamn adult. Apparently, he couldn't do that for her; apparently, he didn't care enough about her.
Sighing, Rayna put her hand over Deacon's and stroked his fingers gently, first his thumb and then the rest of his hand. They exchanged a glance, and warmth once again flooded through Rayna's system. All they had ever needed was a glance. He understood, and he moved his hand to take hers fully, squeezing lightly.
As they read off the names, though, Rayna felt someone sit down on the other side of her. Luke was back, his hat drawn down over his eyes, and Rayna felt Deacon stiffen on her other side.
"You're drunk," he said, his voice low and cold. Rayna stopped and goggled, for it was true – Luke's eyes were glassy and he smelled like the bottom of a whiskey barrel. "You asshole. You went and got drunk."
"Yeah, I did." Luke looked directly at him, and he laughed. "Guess that's one thing I can have that you can't – a drink."
What had happened to him? This wasn't the man Rayna knew and had loved. Luke had always been supportive, but throughout the evening, he was nothing except jealous and mean, to both her and Deacon. It contradicted almost every feeling she had ever had about him in the past when their relationship was strong.
In that moment, Rayna fully realized that she was right – she couldn't marry someone like that. Luke wanted to take credit for all of her achievements, and Rayna didn't deserve that. Deacon had never done that during their twenty plus years of touring and performing together, and he had more right to than Luke did. It baffled Rayna, really, because she hadn't even worked with Luke that much professionally. What was one hit song when she and Deacon had performed dozens together?
"You wanna say that again?" Deacon demanded, leaning over Rayna to glare at Luke. He was only making things worse. Rayna put her hands on his chest and tried to push him away, but he didn't budge. "Have you got the nerve to say that again to my face?"
"Deacon, don't." She was practically pleading with him now, and in the aisle over, Kenny Chesney caught her eye, looking as though he was about to come over. "Deacon, stop. Please."
"Yeah," said Luke, and he leaned closer, too. Rayna was literally smashed between them. "Whiskey is the one thing you'll always want but will never be able to have. How does it feel, Deacon? You got the bitch, and I got the bottom of the barrel. A bit of an upgrade for me, I think."
"And the winner is... Rayna Jaymes!"
In that same instant, it happened. With all the cameras trained directly on them, Deacon hopped over Rayna and pummeled Luke to the ground. The people in the aisles jumped up to avoid the grappling, and the entire room turned to see Deacon punch Luke and Luke snake out of his grasp and body slam into him.
"Don't you ever say that about her!" Deacon was shouting, brushing off Luke's slam and countering with one of his own. "You don't even deserve to breathe the same air as her!"
"She's got you wound 'round her little finger, doesn't she?" Deacon's fist collided with Luke's nose, and a sickening crack hit the air. Blood started to pool from the site of contact. "Doesn't matter anyway, though, does it?" Luke was laughing now, a wild, erratic laughter. "You got 'er, and I'm nothin' but leftover road kill."
Security arrived by now and was rushing the two of them down the aisle toward the exit while Brad Paisley swooped Rayna up in his arms.
"Up you come, darlin'," he said, ushering her to the stage.
Rayna went along with it blindly, her body moving forward as if floating on clouds. She was beyond feeling, and she was dimly aware of a quiet, sporadic clapping echoing throughout the hall as Brad practically carried her to the stage and accepted the award for her, muttering a few words of gratitude on her behalf before rushing her backstage. Luke's bloody face and Deacon's cut fist filled her vision, and she heard herself let out a low whimper.
"Rayna? Rayna." The vision cleared and Rayna blinked to see Brad, his eyes wide and anxious. "Say somethin', Rayna. What happened back there? Are you alright?"
"No," said Rayna quietly, and with that, her eyes widened. Very distantly, she felt her lower stomach grow damp, and Brad followed her eyes as she looked down. He gasped, and some crew members came running over to her, touching her dress, brushing her arms, and rambling frantically in her ear.
"Rayna," said one of the assistants, a woman in her mid-thirties with pale blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Vaguely, Rayna thought she was pretty, but the alarm in her voice was frightening. Rayna felt scared, and she felt so very alone. "Your water just broke. We're calling an ambulance and are getting you over to the hospital."