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My brother visibly grimaced and bit his lip before running a hand through his hair. “Uh. Her name’s Crissy.” The bathroom door opened and he raised his voice towards the hallway, “You can head to the kitchen. I’ll be out in a minute.”
I smacked him in the stomach. “And I repeat, what about Kelly, and why is that girl using my bathroom?”
“Uh.” He cursed under his breath and sat beside me on the bed. “Come on, Bri. I’m not exclusive with anyone. I like Kelly, I do, but I don’t want a relationship.”
I heard his condescending tone and glared. I shot back, “What’s wrong with a relationship? You could do with some maturing.”
He gave me a ‘duh’ look. “I’m in a band.”
“So?”
“So. I’m. In. A. Band.” He shook his head. “Come on. For real. You don’t get that?” His shoulders rolled back, and a cocky expression flashed over his face. “I’m hot shit. Why would I want to get a ball-n-chain?”
I stared at him, waited ten seconds, and then smacked him on the back of his head.
“Ow.” His hand moved to where I hit him, and he cradled it. “What was that about?”
“I’m going to have to apologize to my future boss because my brother’s a man-whore douche nozzle. That’s what that was about.”
“Your future boss?”
“Kelly offered me a job.”
His eyes got big. “No way. You can’t. Em and Luke said they okayed you to join the band.”
“No.” I shook my head. A big yawn came over me, and I reached for my phone. “Braden, why are you in my apartment at three in the morning? I’m tired. Leave me alone.” Nudging him off the bed, I pointed to the door and yawned again. “Go. Leave. Take your Kelly-replacement-because-you’re-afraid-of-commitment girl with you.”
“Oh.” His cheeks puffed out, and he raked a hand through his hair. “You’re going to hate me, like really hate me.”
Why did I get a sudden doom and gloom feeling after hearing those words? Ignoring my gut, which told me to push him out the door and lock it, I folded my arms across my chest. Dear Lord. I would probably need His help by the end of the night, judging from the sudden nervous look on my brother’s face.
His laugh moved up an octave, and he shifted, his hands going behind his back. “Uh, I need your help.”
“That’s established. The ‘with what’ is not.”
He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Bri. Don’t be snippy.”
I lifted an eyebrow. I was waiting.
“Okay, okay. Paul called me. You know Paul?”
“From Shifter?” I named another local band.
“Yeah. He said Emerson’s at his party, and he’s in bad shape. He wants us to come and get him out of there.”
I sighed. Goddamn, Emerson. “Yeah,” I mumbled as I started to look around for a sweatshirt. I’d need to put on jeans, too. “Is he drunk or high? I need to know what to prepare myself for.”
“He’s drunk.”
I heard the hesitation in my brother’s voice and looked up, fixing him with a stare.
He shrugged. “And high.”
“All right.” I shooed him out of the room. “Get lost. I need to change.”
“You’ll come?”
“Yes.” Ducking my head, I pulled a sweatshirt on and grabbed a new pair of jeans. These were faded and ripped, like all my others. It was my trademark look. “Get out before I change my mind.” As he did, I grabbed my shoes. With Emerson, who knew what situation would happen. Having to run away or chase someone down was realistic for us. It’d been like this all our childhood. Emerson did something or said something, and the rest of us had to fight for him. I didn’t know why Elijah hadn’t been called, and I didn’t want to ask Braden either. He’d scowl and say this is family business. When I was ready to go, I headed for the kitchen and found Braden waiting with his girl.
She had long black hair that fell to the middle of her back with white streaks running through it. Her jeans were like mine, and she was wearing a black tank top. Her boobs were pushed up to high heaven, and her lips were plump. We didn’t run in a wealthy crowd, and this girl didn’t look like she had money for Botox, but I was pretty sure she had way too much injected into her face. She would’ve been pretty if she had gone with a natural look— less makeup, less Botox, less cleavage, and less white streaks, but I didn’t say a word. I never mixed well with ninety-eight percent of other females.
“We ready to go?” I asked, grabbing my keys.
“Hi, I’m—” Crissy held her hand out, but Braden stepped in front of her.
He pushed her arm down and nodded to me, saying, “Yep. We’re all good.”
Ignoring the puzzled look she gave him, I swept past them and headed for Braden’s truck and took shotgun. When Braden and the girl realized what I was doing, he started laughing. The girl paused. A soft “Hey,” left her, but Braden hushed her before going to the driver’s side. She had no choice but to take the backseat. When she got inside, I waited, but she was quiet. Good. No fight there, but then I saw another one coming.
Braden started the car and pulled across the road…right into Luke’s driveway.
“What the hell?” I sat forward in my seat.
“What?”
My brother’s tone was too innocent. My eyes narrowed. “Stop with the bullshit. Luke?”
“This is what we do. This is our crew.”
Frustration like no other rose within me. This had been our crew. Emerson got in trouble. Braden, Luke, and I went to help him, and after dating Elijah, I knew he got called quite a bit, too. This wasn’t our crew anymore, but it didn’t matter what I said. Luke was leaving his house, and he braked when he saw who else was in the car.
His mouth tightened, but then he went to the other backseat door.
So he hadn’t known either.
I hissed to Braden as the door was opening, “We need to talk about how things have changed from three years ago to now.”
He rolled his eyes. “Get over it. We need all the help we can get. Paul said some other guys were at the party—guys he didn’t know. He asked Emerson about them, but Em was adamant that he needed to leave them alone.” When Luke shut the door, Braden looked up in the rearview mirror. “Hey, man.”