by Linda Kage
“What chick?” Sticks asked, suddenly too curious for my comfort.
Ignoring him, I scowled at Gally. “You’re the one who refused to even listen to her play.”
“Like you wanted a girl in the band either.” Gally glared back.
I gave a dismissive shrug. “Never know. She might’ve been good. But yeah, one of us—meaning you—probably would’ve nailed her, and she would’ve taken off within the week. Then we’d be back at square one, looking for another drummer.”
Sticks opened his mouth to say something, but I lifted a hand to stop him. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. We’ve got Sticks now.” Smiling congenially at the new guy, I added, “Problem solved.”
Sticks didn’t seem so flattered, though. He lifted a censorious brow. “So…you didn’t even let someone try out just because she was a girl?”
I heaved a sigh, and pointed meaningfully at Gally to pin the blame on him. “He didn’t. Not me.”
Gally scowled at Sticks. “Oh, shut up, queer. No one asked you.”
I was about to snap at him for being so offensive, but Sticks frowned right back. “I never said I was gay.”
Gally lifted his hands. “Well, do you prefer cock over pussy or not?”
Sticks winced. Then he ducked his chin and mumbled into his chest, “Yeah, I guess I do.”
Hating how Gally was making the newest member to our group feel ashamed, I slapped the bass guitarist hard in the chest with the back of my hand and told the drummer, “Ignore him; the rest of us do. He never did find the wizard to grant him a brain.”
As Sticks sent me a small, grateful smile, Gally frowned in confusion, mumbling, “Huh?”
“Never mind.” I didn’t have time to explain the Wizard of Oz to him. “I gotta go. See you guys tomorrow at Forbidden.” When I glanced meaningfully Sticks’s way to make sure Gally hadn’t scared him off yet, he nodded, and relief bloomed in my chest.
The band was back.
Thank God.
I slid into a parking spot with ten minutes to spare before we were set to open, but I was surprised to find as I hurried inside that I wasn’t the last to arrive. Everyone but Mason milled about, doing assorted tasks.
It was Thursday, ladies’ night, so aside from the doorman and cooks in the back, only us bartenders worked, waiting tables and tending the counter. Knox and Noel prepared things behind the bar, while Ten and Quinn took chairs off tables.
“About time you decided to show, rock star,” Ten called to me.
“Oh, hey, Ten,” I called back, snapping my fingers, then pointing at him. “Before I forget, could you let Caroline know she left one of her shirts at my place last week?” When Ten narrowed his eyes at me for bringing up his wife, I grinned. “It’s that tight, white little number with all the red lips on it. You know the one I’m talking about, right?”
“Fucker, I’ll cut you.”
I laughed. No one was as fun to rile as Oren Tenning. So I had to mess with him pretty much every chance I got. He had a comeback for everything I said too, which only amused me more.
Right on cue, his scowl morphed into a grin. “Besides, I peeled that very shirt off her last night, so ha. I know you’re lying.”
Then he was off, whistling under his breath, to move a table that had shifted too far into a major walkway. Chuckling, I turned to the bar where Knox was behind the counter, replacing a CO2 canister at the tap.
God, I loved working with these guys.
“Hey, man.” I sent Knox a head bob greeting. “How’s Felicity? She give up on you yet, so I can have a turn with her?”
Brown eyes lifted to sear me with a deadly glance. “I won’t just cut you,” he said in a voice that made me want to piss myself, because I knew he wasn’t mere talk; this one backed his words up.
Yeah, Knox wasn’t nearly as entertaining to tease. But I still liked him, regardless, because he was a good man to have on your side when you needed help.
I cleared my throat, sent him a tight smile, and quickly escaped to help Ten prepare the customer area.
As soon as I pulled a chair off the table, however, Harper admitted three people into the club. Only VIPs—aka, people close to us bartenders—were allowed inside before opening and after we closed—new rules—so I glanced over, curious to see who’d stopped by to visit. It had to be someone I liked, because I adored all my coworker’s other halves. My friends had found the most awesome women to fall in love with.
The lucky fuckers.
The gorgeous brunette in the lead of the trio marched straight to the bar, her face wreathed in anger. The first boy directly behind her hung his head in shame, while the younger one behind him, gaped around him in starstruck wonder.
Aspen Gamble stopped in front of the counter opposite where her husband was counting out bills before he slotted them into the cash register.
“Your brother,” she snarled, making Noel’s head come up. “Is in so much trouble right now, I can’t even deal with him.”
Noel immediately scowled at the older boy as the kid slumped onto a stool and glumly set his elbows on the bar top and then his chin in his hands.
“Brandt,” he growled. “What the hell did you do?”
Brandt opened his mouth to answer, but Aspen spoke over him. “He got into a fight. At school. The very school where I’ve been working only four months. It was so mortifying; I was called to the principal’s office. Oh my God, Noel. I have never in my life been in trouble with a principal before.”
“You weren’t the one in trouble,” Brandt argued. “I was.”
“But I’m your legal guardian, which puts me in the same boat as you. I seriously cannot believe you. You broke that other boy’s nose.”
“Totally shattered it,” Brandt agreed with smug pride before both Noel’s and Aspen’s frowns had him slumping back into his seat with shame.
“What’d he do to make you punch him?” Noel asked, still the puzzled outsider.
“Oh, that’s the best part,” Aspen railed, still glaring at her teenage brother-in-law. “He refuses to divulge that little piece of information, so I have no idea why he just walked up to some boy who was merely trying to get into his locker between classes and decked the hell out of him. I heard it even knocked him unconscious for a couple seconds. But all Brandt will say on the matter is…”
When she lifted her eyebrows Brandt’s way, he sighed reluctantly and replied, “The cocklicker deserved it.”
“He said that verbatim, too, straight to the principal,” Aspen wailed.
I’d just settled on the barstool on the other side of Colton, the younger brother, who was staring at all the bottles of alcohol lining the back wall with wide eyes. But at Aspen’s words, he glanced at me. “What does verbatim mean?”
“Means word-for-word,” I murmured back.
He nodded while Noel sighed and scrubbed his face before sending Brandt a dry glance and repeating, “He deserved it?”
“Well, he did!” Brandt cried.
“So this is what Noel’s bar looks like from the inside?” Colton asked me.
I didn’t correct him that it was technically Pick’s bar. Since this was where his big brother worked, it’d probably always be Noel’s in his mind. So, I said, “Yep. Pretty cool, huh?”
He shrugged. “It’s okay.” Then he slapped the top of the counter to catch Knox’s attention. “Hey, bartender. I’d like a beer.”
Knox blinked his way. “How old are you?”
“Eleven,” Colton proudly reported.
“Yeah…” Knox shook his head slowly. “Cherry limeade is all you’re getting from me.”
As Colton heaved out a sigh and gave a reluctant groan, saying, “Fine,” Brandt thundered, “Why can’t you just trust me? It wasn’t as if I attacked some poor, innocent, unsuspecting guy. I’m telling you, the douchebag cocklicker fucking deserved it.”
While both Aspen and Noel railed at him to watch his language, Ten slugged him companionably on the back. “Hey, man, I totally believe you.”
>
Noel sent him a scowl. “You’re not a part of this conversation.”
“Uh, excuse me? I’m just as much his brother-in-law as Shakespeare is,” Ten argued, motioning to Aspen.
“Except Aspen and I have legal custody over him. You don’t. Butt out.”
“I just don’t see why you’re not cutting him any slack,” Ten went on mildly. “Since he came to live with you, he hasn’t gotten into one scrap. He’s been a damn good kid.”
“Thank you,” Brandt told Ten as Knox set Colton’s drink on the counter in front of him.
The eleven-year-old took a big drink and sighed out his satisfaction. “Thanks.” Then he eyed Knox a second before tipping up his chin. “Hey, are you the one dating Felicity?”
Knox paused and cocked him a curious glance. “Yeah. Why?”
“You ask her to marry you yet?”
Eyebrows furrowing, Knox narrowed his eyes. “No.”
“Well…” Colton puffed up his chest. “She’s kind of the woman of my dreams, so…” He sighed as if refreshed by the thought of Felicity Bainbridge. “If she’s not married by the time I’m sixteen, I’m making her mine. Just thought I’d warn you, you know, man to man.”
“So…you’re saying I’ve got five years to put a ring on it or I’m going to find myself some healthy competition, huh?”
Colton merely shrugged, and Knox broke out grinning. “You’re on, little man.” He held out a fist and the two bumped knuckles.
On the other side of them, Brandt was still arguing his case. “Why does it really matter why I did it? His nose is still broken, and I’ll still be suspended from school for a week. None of my motives will change any of that. Can’t we just drop it?”
“I don’t understand why you just won’t tell us?” Noel growled.
As I watched Brandt clench his teeth in frustration, I decided he was protecting someone else.
Thirty seconds later, I learned who when Mason swept in late, two minutes before we were supposed to open.
When he spotted Brandt, he veered toward him, saying, “You…I need to talk to you. Sarah told Reese what you did today.”
Brandt winced and slowly turned on his stool to face Sarah’s brother. “She did? Shit.”
Mason nodded. “Reese was over at my mom’s when Sarah got home from school, clearly upset. It took some coaxing, but Reese finally pried out of her what had happened. And…” He heaved in a deep breath before holding out a hand for Brandt to shake. “Thank you.”
As Brandt turned an embarrassed bright red, Noel waved his hands. “Thank you? What! Lowe, what the hell did he do?”
Mason needed another second before speaking, then announced, “Some little asswipe was bullying Sarah, messing with her wheelchair and calling her names. I guess she spent her lunch hour crying in the bathroom. When Brandt here heard about it, he taught the idiot some manners.”
We all turned to gaze in amazement at Brandt, who only sank lower and lower onto his stool, looking totally mortified.
Aspen finally covered her face with both hands and groaned. “Oh my God, I am so sorry, Brandt, but…” Lowering her fingers, she scowled. “Why didn’t you just say that from the beginning?”
The fifteen-year-old growled out a mutter. “Because she was embarrassed and didn’t want any more attention brought on her.” He scowled Mason’s way. “I can’t believe she caved and told Reese. I promised her I wouldn’t drag her name into it, and that’s all she wanted.”
Mason only shrugged. “I think the guilt got to her. She didn’t like you getting suspended because of her.”
“Like I give a shit if they suspend me because of that. She didn’t ask me to do anything about it. Hell, she didn’t even know I’d found out about it. He deserved it, and I’ll go after any cocksucker again who messes with one of my friends.”
“You sure the fuck will,” Noel raged in agreement. “That little shit-stain bully. I’m going in to talk to the principal tomorrow so he gets just as much if not more punishment than Brandt’s getting.”
“And I’m going with you,” Aspen declared.
“Oh, I’ve already called him,” Mason assured them with a tight, angry smile. “He’s well aware that the kid wasn’t innocent in any of this, and he assured me he’d do something about it.”
“Jesus, you guys.” Brandt groaned and clutched his head. “This is exactly what Sarah doesn’t want. If you make a big deal out of it, a million people are suddenly going to take notice of her, feeling bad and pitying her, or worse, maybe even blaming her. She doesn’t want that.”
Having witnessed enough of their family drama, I slid off my stool and patted Colton on the back as he continued to sip on his cherry limeade, watching the show. Then I made a last round through the customer area before letting Harper know we could open.
Quinn had similar thoughts and was picking up a stray straw off the floor. He grinned at me as he nodded his head toward the bar. “It’s never a dull night around here, is it?”
I chuckled. “Not with the drama we manage to stir up.”
Motioning a finger toward Harper, I let him know we were good to let customers in. He nodded, and half a minute later, they started trickling through the entrance.
I took my first table full of orders of the night and brought them to Knox to be filled since Mason and the Gambles were still arguing amongst themselves over how to seek justice for their younger siblings. Ten gave up on trying to put in his two cents’ worth and decided to help Quinn and me wait tables.
I’d just delivered a tray full and was pocketing the payment when my cell phone alerted me to an incoming text. I checked the screen, surprised to find it was from my new drummer.
I just realized I don’t have an exact time or address of where to be tomorrow for the gig. I’ve only been to Forbidden once and I didn’t drive so I’m not sure if I remember how to get there.
I zipped back the time and address and pocketed the phone, only for it to ding seconds later.
Gracias. Me and my two boys will see you then.
After I told him okay, all the while wondering who his two boys were, he spit back another message to me.
And by two boys, I meant my drumsticks, not the pair in my pants.
Before I could even think up a response to that, he messaged me again.
Not that the other two won’t be there too, of course. But technically, you won’t be seeing THOSE boys, so yeah…I’m only talking about the drumsticks.
I grinned, growing more amused by his rambling posts. I could almost picture him groaning to himself as if he knew he kept saying shit he didn’t mean to even as he typed more. And on cue, he wrote.
So, yeah, I’m just going to shut up now before I dig myself any deeper into my humiliation. See you tomorrow.
I laughed outright and typed back that I’d see him then.
“Who’re you flirting with?” Ten asked, making me jump out of my skin because I’d been so preoccupied with pushing Send.
Scowling at him, I shoved him back when he tried to read the screen over my shoulder. “None of your business, nosey ass.” Then I tucked the phone into my pocket out of his sight.
He snickered and wiggled his eyebrows. “Just tell me she’s hot.”
I rolled my eyes. “What makes you think I was even talking to a girl?”
“Because you were grinning and laughing as you read the messages, like a little douche boy with a crush.”
“What the hell ever.” I shoved at his shoulder again, this time to shut him up. “I was not. It was the new drummer in my band. And he said something funny…so I laughed.”
“Yeah…” Ten kept eyeing me as he scratched at the scarred side of his face. “I’m not buying it. You were reading your screen far too long for it to be from another dude.”
I stared at him in absolute confusion. “Huh?”
“It took you a while to read the screen,” he explained. “Ergo it had to be from a chick. Two guys messaging back and forth to each other will
keep it to five words or less per text…or they’ll just call. So yeah…you were most definitely sexting.”
“Whatever.” I shook my head as I walked off. “You’re weird. Stop being so weird.”
“That’s okay if you don’t want to talk about her yet,” he yelled after me. “I’ll learn who she is soon enough.”
“Freak,” I muttered under my breath. But for some strange reason, what he said stuck in my head. Making sure he wasn’t looking, I pulled my phone from my pocket and reread my conversation with Sticks.
Sure enough, everything I’d typed to him had been squeezed into five words or less. His shortest text to me had been ten words long.
“Huh,” I murmured, frowning as I shoved the phone back into my pocket. Then I finished my shift and didn’t think about the bizarreness of it again.
“¡Dios mío! I am such a moron.” I tossed my cell phone onto the coffee table as if it was infected and swiped my hand across my forehead, utterly mortified.
I’m surprised Asher hadn’t called me a freak and told me not to bother coming to the show tomorrow. What I’d just texted him had been beyond idiotic.
I’d started out, trying to be funny, but then it’d sounded like I was being too sophomoric. Yet when I tried to explain what I’d really meant, it’d all just gone downhill from there and splashed right into shit lake.
“Ugh.” This was his fault, I decided. The guy was just too hot. After spending hours in his company, listening to him sing, I was still rocking too many raging hormones.
But Asher had shocked me today. In a good way. After my first encounter with the group, I’d had it stuck in my head that Galloway was their leader. That had concerned me. I mean, not enough that I didn’t want to play with them tomorrow, but it’d still been a distressing, disturbing, depressing thought.
After this afternoon, however, it was apparent that Asher took care of things. He knew where the songs were kept, had paid the bill for the studio rental, he’d made all the suggestions on changing and fine-tuning songs here and there, and he’d been the one to remind us where we were supposed to meet for our next gig. Him, I might be able to get behind as a leader…especially since he had such a nice behind. But Gally? Hell to the no. I would never stick with a band longer than one gig if he led it.