Chapter 1
Irritating Bastard
“You play that song one more time and the smart speaker is goin’ out the window and you’re getting tossed after it.”
To make sure his twin got the point, Tripp jabbed the knife he’d been using to dice garlic in the direction of the nearest window, grimacing when garlic bits rained on the floor. Scowling like an evil imp, Winter told the smart speaker to shut up and commenced singing the song himself.
“Sometimes I really hate you.”
“You’ve been saying shit like that to me ever since you could talk.”
“That oughta tell you something right there.”
“Yeah, that you’re an uptight prick.”
“And you are a reckless bastard.”
“Whatever,” Winter grumbled and went right back to singing that damned song. For fuck’s sake, couldn’t he have a moment of fuckin’ silence in this damned house? Slamming the knife down into the chopping block so he wouldn’t be tempted to stab it through his brother’s heart, Tripp whirled on him, two steps away from strangling the hell out of his twin when his phone went off.
“What!” he bellowed the moment the screen lit up.
“Well merry fuckin’ holiday to you, ya miserable fuck!”
Rolling his eyes, he shoved the phone in Winter’s direction only to have his brother skitter away, still singing the damned song.
“Take it!” Tripp hissed.
Winter just shook his head and danced off.
Growling, Tripp stalked after him. “Talk to him.”
“You talk to him!” Winter shot back before resuming the song.
“One of you talk to me!”Tavis bellowed, his voice echoing through the kitchen.
“Fine!” Tripp snarled into the phone while he prowled across the kitchen for a Lysol wipe to clean the floor.
“Would ask how things were going in what’s supposed to be our downtime, but judging from the way you’re all wound up, I’ll go out on a limb and say you’re getting on each other’s nerves again.”
“How can there be anagainwhen it never stops!” Tripp growled. “Now what do you want?”
“To see what you thought of the little idea Jesse and I have been cooking up. See Wild Child is desperate to find a new bassist and we’ve come up with a plan.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tripp silently bemoaned the decision to leave the ringer on. “Why do I doubt I’ll like the sound of this?”
“Because you’re a skeptic and a hypocrite, but one hell of a guitar player so we love you despite a few frustrating flaws.”
“I don’t have time to stand here all day and listen to you give me shit.”
“Then sit your ass down and grab a notepad while you’re at it, we’ve got a lot to discuss.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
In his haste to retrieve a notepad and pen, Tripp stumbled on the folded over edge of a rug he’d repeatedly asked Winter to find a new spot for.
“Dude, be careful before you hurt yourself.”
“Be…” Sputtering, Tripp could only wave his arms around in frustration, since the only god damned person that was going to get him hurt in this place was his crazy ass brother and the mismatched collection of what the fucks he’d collected from flea markets and thrift stores across the country.