I scribble my name in the sections she’s marked and gather my things. Before I can even turn around, I feel Trip’s eyes, judging me.
I head toward the door, Trip close on my heels. Once we’re outside, my brother clears his throat. “I called the rental car company to come pick up their car from the impound lot. Kyle is waiting around the side with the Escalade to take us to the airport.”
I raise my eyebrows. “That’s it? No big lecture?”
Trip sighs. “What do you want me to say, Tyke? Do you really need me to tell you how much you fucked up? How bad this is going to look for the band? You know better than anyone this isn’t good fucking PR, so why voice it? As long as I can remember, you’ve been the stable one. I’m sure this isn’t going to happen again. You always do what’s best for the band. It was a one-time mistake. We all make them.”
“Glad to hear you actually still care about the band.”
Trip flinches. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? When have I ever not cared?”
I shake my head. “Come on, brother. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. No one has cared for a while now, including you. You guys spend all of your time with your women and leave all the work to me. I’m the one writing all the songs while Noel and Riff are off being husbands and fathers and you’re out there playing house. Do you think that’s fair? You guys get to fuck around and not give a shit about the future of this band?”
He licks the corner of his mouth as he huffs. “Fuck you, Tyke. Just because we settled down and found other interests, don’t think for one goddamn minute that we don’t care about the band anymore. Nothing with the band has changed. You’re the one who’s changed.”
Anger boils inside me. Is he really that blind? Can he not see how so much has changed in the year since Noel and Riff got married, and he got with Holly? I love my brother. I don’t want to lose him, but I’m not going to stand here attempting to make him see my side when I know it’s a lost cause. I’d be better off beating my head against a brick wall.
“You’re right, Trip. Things are most definitely different and are going to change even fucking more.”
Without another word, I turn on my heel and walk away from my baby brother. It’s not the best option, but it’s the only one I’ve got. Whatever it takes, I’m going show the rest of these guys that they’re letting this band die. And despite what they think, I’m the only one fighting to keep us together.
“Evil Twin” – Arctic Monkeys
Present Day
Fuck.
I’ve done it again.
I turn my head and survey my surroundings. Four white hotel walls and a horrible painting of a man fishing in a pond are the first things that come into my hazy line of sight. The second thing is the blonde knocked out cold next to me, her tits hanging half out her shirt.
Damn. What in the hell did I do last night?
I squeeze my eyes shut while the pounding in my skull beats continuously. Raising my hand, desperate to pinch the bridge of my nose to ease the pain, my arm stops far short of my face. My gaze snaps down to my wrists, bound at my sides with a thin rope, and I yank my arm, attempting to move my feet as well without much luck.
What in the hell?
My heart thunders in my chest as my foggy brain quickly pulls together that someone has no intentions of allowing me to leave this bed. Panic rolls over me when I can’t recall whom I came here with, or even how I got here. As much as I hate to admit it, Trip was right—some chick has finally gone all Misery on my ass.
I survey the knot tied in the rope. It doesn’t look like it’ll be that difficult to loosen, if I can just figure out a way to get my hands on it. Twisting my wrist side to side, I attempt to wiggle out, but it’s no use. It’s tied too tight.
I shift beneath the sheet that’s draped over me, and realize I’m completely fucking naked.
Shit. Being naked and tied to a bed is never a good thing. This isn’t going to end well.
The bathroom door opens and I freeze, unsure of what the hell might be walking toward me. A slender brunette in a black mask with a great set of tits struts into the room wearing a tight leather outfit that wraps her body like a glove. As if the outfit wasn’t over-the-top enough, she’s also toting a black whip in her left hand, alongside an expression that screams she’s ready to inflict some major pain. I tense at the sight of her.
What in the holy fuck have I gotten myself into?
I yank my wrists, attempting to free myself, and the woman cusses at me in Spanish, clearly unhappy with my change of heart. “Hijo de puta!”
It only takes a split second for me to recognize the voice before I burst out laughing, instantly relaxing against the stark-white sheets. “Gabby, what the fuck?”
Her lip pokes out in a distinct pout as she pulls the mask off, revealing her smooth, tan complexion. Her big brown eyes complement her perfectly round face and button nose, reminding me of just how attractive she is. “Aww, come on, Tyke. I’m not done playing yet. Don’t you want to have some more fun with her? She was a good sport.”
The woman next to me continues to breathe softly, and while I’m positive that this woman provided great entertainment for Gabby and I last night, I can’t remember a damn thing about it.
There’s no time to try to remember it though, because the moment I sit up a little straighter, the sun’s harsh rays poke through the thick drapes, letting me know I’m already late. “Can’t. I have a band meeting at one.”