Chapter 17

Back inside the pub, Seth, Shannon and Kayla were waiting for Dean emerge from the bathroom. He had been in there for quite a while, wiping the blood from his face. Everyone else from the pub had gone home except for the bartender, who had just finished talking with the cops about the parkinglot fight and was now closing up for the night.

Dean finally exited the bathroom, paper towel held against his nose, wiping the rest of the blood away. Seth approached him.

"You alright, Dean?"

"I'm fine. It's like I told Braun it wasn't my first fight. I feel it won't be my last."

Shannon stepped forward. "Do we need to call you and ambulance?"

"No. Nothing broken. Thanks anyway, Aussie."

Shannon smiled at the usage of her nickname. She hadn't heard that in years. "No problem, Patriot."

"I think Shannon and myself are going to head home for the evening."

"Sure. It was fun...until this anyway."

"You take care, man."

"You too. See you guys later."

Seth guided Shannon to the front door and escorted her out to the car. Kayla stood in front of Dean with an ice pack in her hands.

"Have a seat, Mr. Ambrose."

Dean sat down in a chair at an empty table. Kayla sat right next to him. She eyed his bruised face.

"Why didn't you let Seth help you?"

"It wasn't his fight."

"But still..."

"I'm a grown man. I can take care of myself."

"He could have killed you."

"He didn't, did he?"

"No. But..."

Kayla sighed dropping the subject altogether.

"You sure you don't need an ambulance?"

"No ambulance necessary. Positive."

"If you say so."

"I say so."

Kayla, ice pack in hand, reached forward and place it gently to his discolored eye. Dean winced.

"Ow."

"Sorry. I'm sure it hurts."

"A little. That guy sure packed a wallop."

"I'll say. That's the second time you came to my aid. Although, this time, it's me with the ice pack in my hand, holding it to your face."

A soft smile crossed Dean's lips. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. You played a pretty mean guitar tonight. You looked like you were having fun up there."

"I did. I was."

"Were you nervous?"

"Not really. It's was like riding a bicycle. It all came back to me."

"You did great."

"Thanks again."

"Sure."

As Kayla moved the ice pack towards Dean's cheek, she began humming a song to herself and then the words escaped her as she softly sang them.

Please come to Boston for the springtime.

I'm staying here with some friends and they've got lots of room.

You can sell your paintings on the sidewalk.

By a cafe where I hope to be workin' soon.

Please come to Boston, she said 'No'.

Would you come home to me?

Kayla ceased her singing and Dean picked up the chorus.

And she said, 'Hey ramblin' boy, now won't you settle down?"

Boston ain't your kind of town.

There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me.

I'm the number 1 one fan of the man from Tennessee."

Kayla and Dean stared into each other's eyes without either one saying a word. After a moment, Dean decided to break the silence.

"You know what? I feel like playing another song."

Kayla looked towards the stage, then back at him. "All the guitars are gone though."

"I can also play the piano."

Kayla looked at him in surprise. "Really? Since when?"

"I took piano lessons after I moved away. Music was always, in a way, my escape."

Kayla sat the ice pack on the table. "Well now, Mr. Ambrose. I would like to hear that."

Dean rose from the table and took Kayla by the hand and led her to the stage area.