Strung Out (Needles and Pins #1) by Lyrica Creed Read Free Book Online Page B

her out.”
    “I’m a good guy.” Colt fished around in a little box and his fingers emerged with a pack of Zig Zags.
    Colt preferred his smoke old school. Hell, he did too, but he had his voice to look after. One hit wouldn’t hurt… He abandoned the pen and continued cleaning the room. “You’re a slut. I mean it. Stay away from her.”
    “I’ma settle down one day.” Colt pinched from a nug and shredded it over a paper.
    “No, you won’t.” Gage hooked the headphones on the bracket next to the soundboard and eyed Colt’s rolling progress.
    “I’m taking this home to enjoy in peace.” Colt licked the edge and held up the joint.
    Fine. Wasn’t as if he wanted a joint anyway. Something stronger was calling his name…
Despite the few hits from the vaporizer
,
the longing washed over him like a warm ocean wave on a sunny day, and he defensively blanked his mind against the feelings.
    He was clean, had slept through the worst of the detox of that particular mistress before bailing out of rehab. The other night—the night Scar had arrived—he’d binged on meph instead. Taking Colt’s place, he sat down, once again snatching up his alternate vice to take the edge off while Colt stood at the windows texting.
    “Damn kid.” His friend and bandmate grumbled. “Can’t answer a text. Where’d he get off to?”
    Looking beyond Colt to the empty pool, Gage held the pen to his mouth and pressed the button. Immediately his jittery cravings waned some. “If he’s not swimming then he’s probably watching TV.”
    Colt took a hit, and Gage another, before they left the device on the table, headed down the hall and descended the stairs to the movie studio.
    “Seth, we've got to bounce.” The sounds of dialogue enhanced through speakers drifted up the stairway, and Colt called out before reaching the landing.
    Gage however snapped immediately to the background music common to a certain genre of film and wasn’t surprised when Colt pulled up short.
    Seth scrambled for the remote and after the screen went blank, turned a wide-eyed embarrassed stare their way. “It was already on when I turned the TV on. I swear!”
    Colt swung his eyes away from his son. “Dammit, Gage! Really?”
    He didn't want to rat out Seth’s fib, so he clammed up. But there was no way he’d left the receiver on that station. Although he obviously subscribed to the channel because he watched it occasionally, the watching had always been in the privacy of his bedroom.
    Maybe Colt decided on revenge for subjecting his son to a porn station. Or maybe he was simply a dick, because he detoured by the kitchen before leaving. “Listen, Scarlette, um Scarla, there's a place in Studio City that serves the best sushi rolls. I'd love to take you sometime.”
    Once again, Gage restrained the urge to punch him and instead pinned a glare onto the side of his head, which Colt ignored. Turning his attention to Scarlette, he found her surprised by the invitation. Her fork lay abandoned on her plate, and when her gaze fluctuated from Colt to him, he felt his chin swaying side to side.
    “I'd like that, thanks.” Ignoring his negative headshake, Scarlette accepted the date.
    “Thursday then?”
    “Sure. Thursday's good.”
    They exchanged phone numbers, and he saw her pick up her fork again as Colt meandered proudly from the room. Gage turned the opposite way, going back into the studio as Colt and Seth let themselves out. Wouldn’t do to hit his bandmate in front of his son.
    Slamming around in the studio gave him no satisfaction. Reigniting the pen, he put his lips to it for a hit and picked up the one guitar he’d left lying about. Blasting the front off the amp did nothing to temper his mood.
    A barely discernible noise halted his improv playing. In the ensuing silence, the tapping sound was clear. “Yeah?”
    The door swing inward and Scarlette inquired, “Should I put the food up?”
    Ignoring her question, he set aside the guitar and