Strung Out (Needles and Pins #1) by Lyrica Creed Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lyrica Creed
you.”
“Hello to you too.”
“Shut up, shit head.” Reaching out, he ruffled the boy’s long layered hair. “Where's your dad?”
“Talking to your neighbor”
Gage rolled his eyes, thinking of the starlet Colt had been fascinated with since seeing her at her mailbox months ago.
“You been practicing?”
“Yeah. Dad's going to buy me that Gretsch I want for my birthday.”
“Cool. Bring it over when he does.”
“Bring what over?” Colt arrived on the scene.
While Gage worked with Seth, Colt isolated himself in the recording booth where he listened to what Gage had laid down so far. Dramatically ripping off his headphones, and bursting into the main room, he declared it crap.
With an aggravated sweep of his hands, Gage surged to his feet.
“Well, go on. Say what you
really
think.” He picked up a box, flipped up the lid, and selected a vape pen. Seth, likely realizing his own practice was over for the day, slipped from the room, and Gage felt a twinge of guilt.
Colt curled his bottom lip in disgust. “It sounds like you’ve taken shit we scrapped and mixed in new shit.”
Which was exactly what he’d done. But the end result wasn’t shit, although it still needed work. “I knew you’d be a douche. Let’s hear what the others have to say.”
“Let’s don’t. They’ll think you’re slipping. And you don’t need them to think that right now.
We
don’t need them to think that right now. Dammit, if you fuck this up for all of us, I’ll fuck you over.” Colt threw himself on the couch and kicked back.
“Try, it, motherfucker. Go ahead and try it now. Why wait?” He ceased loading the atomizer and backed the challenge with an icy stare.
But Colt’s attention had drifted. “One of your women escaped from the basement.”
At Colt’s words, Gage looked up, seeing Scar. Little did Colt know, that was a bad, bad joke at this time. He hadn’t mentioned it to Scarlette, but certain members of Rageon were known for their extreme fetishes. There were rumors of hush money settlements and borderline abduction incidents.
Sitting up straighter and ignoring the fermenting fury on Gage’s side of the table, Colt defended himself. “What? Not like you don't tie them up sometimes.”
Restraining himself from punching the other guy in the throat, he instead made the introductions. “Meet my sister, Scarlette.”
The moment the introduction registered and Colt realized she wasn’t a random chick wandering in, he immediately sprang to his feet.
“Scarla.” She held her hand out to Colt, and Gage watched the polite handshake. “Nice to meet you.”
Colt responded with a surprised but meaningful look toward Gage. When Gage refused to confirm his evident question, he leaned in to kiss her hand. “The pleasure’s all mine.” Right before his lips met the skin, he turned it palm side up.
Scarlette’s eyes fluttered a moment, and when she was slow to pull her hand back, Gage leaned in and invaded their space. “We ordered Indian takeout. It’s in the kitchen.”
“Sounds wonderful. I’m starved.” With a last look and smile at Colt, she exited the room, and Gage wondered if he was imagining the extra sway in her hips. Five angry clicks turned the pen on and a five-second ram of the button heated it.
“Your sister?” Colt plopped back down on the studio couch and waved away the proffered vaporizer. “Scarlette? That’s Scarlette.” The initial inquiry in his tone blurred into shock.
“Don’t be weird with her, man.”
“I wouldn’t. I was just surprised. Except for her eyes, she doesn’t look…”
Gage blew out an irritated, vaporized breath. “Because she tries not to. She hates the association. The attention of it.”
Colt nodded, still in a stunned state. However, it didn’t take him long to regroup. “She in a relationship?”
While he smoked, Gage moved about the room putting everything back in its place. At this question, he froze. “No, fucker. Don't ask
“Hello to you too.”
“Shut up, shit head.” Reaching out, he ruffled the boy’s long layered hair. “Where's your dad?”
“Talking to your neighbor”
Gage rolled his eyes, thinking of the starlet Colt had been fascinated with since seeing her at her mailbox months ago.
“You been practicing?”
“Yeah. Dad's going to buy me that Gretsch I want for my birthday.”
“Cool. Bring it over when he does.”
“Bring what over?” Colt arrived on the scene.
While Gage worked with Seth, Colt isolated himself in the recording booth where he listened to what Gage had laid down so far. Dramatically ripping off his headphones, and bursting into the main room, he declared it crap.
With an aggravated sweep of his hands, Gage surged to his feet.
“Well, go on. Say what you
really
think.” He picked up a box, flipped up the lid, and selected a vape pen. Seth, likely realizing his own practice was over for the day, slipped from the room, and Gage felt a twinge of guilt.
Colt curled his bottom lip in disgust. “It sounds like you’ve taken shit we scrapped and mixed in new shit.”
Which was exactly what he’d done. But the end result wasn’t shit, although it still needed work. “I knew you’d be a douche. Let’s hear what the others have to say.”
“Let’s don’t. They’ll think you’re slipping. And you don’t need them to think that right now.
We
don’t need them to think that right now. Dammit, if you fuck this up for all of us, I’ll fuck you over.” Colt threw himself on the couch and kicked back.
“Try, it, motherfucker. Go ahead and try it now. Why wait?” He ceased loading the atomizer and backed the challenge with an icy stare.
But Colt’s attention had drifted. “One of your women escaped from the basement.”
At Colt’s words, Gage looked up, seeing Scar. Little did Colt know, that was a bad, bad joke at this time. He hadn’t mentioned it to Scarlette, but certain members of Rageon were known for their extreme fetishes. There were rumors of hush money settlements and borderline abduction incidents.
Sitting up straighter and ignoring the fermenting fury on Gage’s side of the table, Colt defended himself. “What? Not like you don't tie them up sometimes.”
Restraining himself from punching the other guy in the throat, he instead made the introductions. “Meet my sister, Scarlette.”
The moment the introduction registered and Colt realized she wasn’t a random chick wandering in, he immediately sprang to his feet.
“Scarla.” She held her hand out to Colt, and Gage watched the polite handshake. “Nice to meet you.”
Colt responded with a surprised but meaningful look toward Gage. When Gage refused to confirm his evident question, he leaned in to kiss her hand. “The pleasure’s all mine.” Right before his lips met the skin, he turned it palm side up.
Scarlette’s eyes fluttered a moment, and when she was slow to pull her hand back, Gage leaned in and invaded their space. “We ordered Indian takeout. It’s in the kitchen.”
“Sounds wonderful. I’m starved.” With a last look and smile at Colt, she exited the room, and Gage wondered if he was imagining the extra sway in her hips. Five angry clicks turned the pen on and a five-second ram of the button heated it.
“Your sister?” Colt plopped back down on the studio couch and waved away the proffered vaporizer. “Scarlette? That’s Scarlette.” The initial inquiry in his tone blurred into shock.
“Don’t be weird with her, man.”
“I wouldn’t. I was just surprised. Except for her eyes, she doesn’t look…”
Gage blew out an irritated, vaporized breath. “Because she tries not to. She hates the association. The attention of it.”
Colt nodded, still in a stunned state. However, it didn’t take him long to regroup. “She in a relationship?”
While he smoked, Gage moved about the room putting everything back in its place. At this question, he froze. “No, fucker. Don't ask