Gabriel

 

My phone wakes me with an obnoxious rooster crow, and it makes me groan. I use that ringtone on purpose because the person on the other end constantly cackles at me, so I thought it was hilarious. Funny, but fitting. She doesn’t appreciate it, but I still keep it.

I almost don’t answer because I don’t want to deal with my sister, but if I don’t, she’ll just continue to call until I pick up. Mom must have told her I was in town.

“What?” I don’t intend for my voice to sound so gruff, but I’m hungover and barely got any sleep.

“Geez, Gabriel, it’s after one in the afternoon.” She greets me with an attitude, and I immediately get annoyed with her.

“Didn’t go to bed until four, Gianna.”

“That’s still nine hours of sleep.”

I know it’ll irritate her, so I say, “Didn’t say I went to sleep at four.”

She makes a gagging noise, and I would laugh, but I’m too damn tired. All the shit that’s happening with the band and Kolby and Jamie is exhausting. “You’re disgusting.”

“You’re calling me on one of the few vacations I have and waking me up to talk shit?”

“No,” she snaps. “I’m ignoring the fact you’re in town and didn’t call me to let me know you were home because I actually need your help.”

At the sound of urgency in her voice, I sit up, and the sheet falls to my lap. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just have to go out of town for a couple of weeks last minute for work, and I need someone to take care of my cats.”

“Over Christmas?”

“Yes. Over freaking Christmas. My boss said I could fly back, but what’s the point when I’d only be here for a day? Now, I really need to go pack. The Uber is coming in ten minutes. Can you watch them for me or not?”

Leaning back on my headboard, I say, “No.”

I know she’s glaring at me, one of the unfortunate perks that comes with being a twin. “Come on. You’re in town, and you have nothing else to do until you guys go back on the road.” I haven’t talked to her in a while, so she doesn’t know it’s going to be months that we’re home because as of right now, we have no drummer.

“One, that’s not true. I have a shit ton of stuff to do. And two, I hate cats, Gianna. Ask Mom to do it.”

“Mom hates driving in the snow, so I’m not going to ask her. And you don’t hate cats. You’re not even allergic to them like Dad is, so you can’t use that excuse. You just hate anything that might inconvenience you in the slightest or doesn’t benefit the almighty Gabriel Hunter.”

My body heats up in agitation, and I don’t even try to check my response. “That’s fuckin’ bullshit.”

“No. What’s bullshit is you, Gabriel. You’re barely home, and whenever you are, all you do is hide out in your big fancy house and pretend nobody else exists but you. Just like always. I should be surprised but I’m not.”

“Like always?” I growl.

“Yeah. Like always. You always were selfish. Only ever thought about yourself and never gave a shit about any of us you left behind. So ya know what, Gabe?” I know she’s pissed because she called me Gabe. My entire family always calls me Gabriel. In fact, they’re the only people who do. With most families, when the mom says the kid’s full name, that means they’re in trouble, but for us, it’s the opposite.

I should just hang up on her instead of continuing to listen to her bitch. “What, Gia?” I snap.

“Forget I called. Forget you have a mother who still lights a candle every Sunday for you and a father who prays for your forgiveness each night before he goes to bed. Forget if it wasn’t for them, you wouldn’t even be here. Forget the fact that you left and when you did, you left me with your shit. Forget I live fifteen minutes away from you and forget my fucking number. Not like that’ll be hard because you never call it anyway.”

And with those acidic parting words, my sister hangs up on me. I don’t bother trying to call her back because she won’t answer. Once she’s pissed, she won’t talk to you until she’s ready and not a second before. I learned that the hard way throughout the years.

Dropping my phone on the floor, I squeeze my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose to relieve some of the pressure from my impending headache and the stress of dealing with my family.

She’s partially right. I hide out and avoid my parents as much as I can because, straight up, I don’t want to deal with them and their shit. Every time I come home, I question my own sanity because, without fail, there’s always drama. Then again, with me there always is, even when I’m not home. Especially on the road. It’s not like I go out looking for it; it just comes to me.

Or maybe it’s because I have a short temper and a zero-tolerance policy for bullshit. I don’t let anything slide, I don’t let things go, and I definitely don’t give anyone a pass for being a douche.

“Who was that?”

Shit.

I wince and take a breath because I totally forgot I wasn’t alone. My eyelids open to slits, and I stare down at the blonde rousing awake. Her blue eyes are surrounded by black makeup, and her red lipstick is somehow still intact on her plump lips.

“Don’t worry about it.” I don’t even remember her name, so no way in hell am I going to tell her anything other than what position I want her in. Or wanted.

She hums as her nails scrape down my chest. I drop my head to the wall when her hand wraps around my cock. As much as I want this chick’s mouth on me again, the fight I just got in with my sister and the things she specifically said about my parents assure I’m not gettin’ it up anytime soon.

So I grab her wrist and pull her arm away. I don’t know how or why she’s even still here in the first place. I must have been too wasted to kick her out. I never sleep with someone, and I definitely never bring them back to my place, which is why we’re in a hotel. “I’m takin’ a shower. Be gone by the time I’m done.”

I laid it out before I brought her here, and knowing exactly what this is, she reaches for her bra without argument. “Should I leave my number?”

“Sure.”

We both know I’ll never call her, but she nods probably to save face. I’m not going to be so much of a dick as to deny her that even though she knew what coming to a hotel with me meant. I wait to turn on the shower after I hear the door close, then I stand under the spray for a good ten minutes.

All I can think about is that damn conversation with Gianna. I’m not a fan of being back home, and even though my sister is partially right, she’s more wrong. I didn’t just leave everyone behind. I check in regularly, and despite the fuckin’ bullshit, I still come home whenever we aren’t touring, which isn’t often.

Since Reason to Ruin’s conception over ten years ago, we’ve been on the road for what seems like nonstop. And I love every damn minute of it. The noise, the fans, the pussy, the alcohol, my bandmates, the money. All of it. Life on the road is the shit, and I can’t wait to get back to it as soon as we can.

If it were up to me, we’d never stop touring, but realistically, I know it can’t last forever, and we do need breaks every now and then. As much as I hate to admit it, it does get tiring, so it’s nice to have some time to recharge.

After I get out of the shower, I put some clothes on and decide to bite the bullet and call my mom. She picks up after the second ring. “Hey, Gabriel.” There’s a shocked smile in her voice, and it guts me to know she’s surprised and relieved that her son calls her. I should do better, but I just can’t. Not after what she put me through.

“Hi, Ma.”

The volume of the TV is muted in the receiver, and knowing her, she’s watching a soap opera. “How’re you doing? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Why would you say that?”

“Well, you called yesterday…” She trails off, and I realize she didn’t want to finish saying that she was surprised I called two days in a row.

God, I’m a dick. “Nothing’s wrong, Ma.”

“Oh, good. We’re all ready for Christmas. Are you… do you want to come this year? I mean, you’re home, and it looks like Gianna isn’t going to be here, but I thought… I just thought maybe you’d want to.” It’s been a few years since I spent the holidays with my family even though I’ve been in town the past three of them. I managed to get out of it by faking illness or lying about some other lame ass thing to avoid my father.

“Is your husband going to be there?”

She sighs, and I hate the hurt in her voice, but it doesn’t change anything. She might be able to forgive and forget, but I can’t do it. “I love him, Gabriel.”

I tell her the same fucking thing I’ve always told her. “He doesn’t love you.”

“He does, he just didn’t know how to show it all the time. He’s better now. It’s been years, and I’ve forgiven him. I don’t know why you have to do this to me.”

“I’m not doing anything to you. I called to say hi, but if you’re gonna do this, then I’m gonna let you go.”

She exhales, and before she says it, I know exactly what’ll come out of her mouth. “I love you both. How do I choose?”

The fucked-up thing is, she’s already chosen. She picks him—she’s always picked him—so her questions don’t deserve an answer. “Love you, Ma. I’ll take you out to dinner later in the week, okay?”

“That sounds really great, Gabriel.”

After making arrangements for a date and time, I hang up before she can throw more shit at me.

I raid the minibar while I check my email and respond to messages on social media. Once that’s done, I grab my keys and wallet because I can’t stand around any longer. And if I go to my house, it’ll be empty. I need to be around people. I need noise, chaos, and disarray. Without those things, I’m left alone to my thoughts, and they aren’t a good place to be.

It’s five o’clock somewhere, so I run home and change into clean clothes, then head downtown to Kelly’s Pub. Meara, the wife of our old drummer Liam, owns the place, and it’s one of the only bars we hang out at when we’re home. People aren’t all up in our shit here, which is nice. And right now is a time I really need for people not to be up in my business.

All I need is some booze and music and pussy. I won’t be getting the last one because Kelly’s has one hard and fast rule, and that is you never bring a chick home that you meet here. Ever. The Kellys aren’t just our friends; they’re family.

And you don’t fuck over family. The last thing they need is some psycho chick causing issues. Plus, it makes this a place where we can go and just chill.

We’ve been coming here for so long it’s like we’re regulars even though our trips home are sporadic and oftentimes short. We usually do an acoustic show when we’re home and have one planned for the following week. Well, we did. But now that we don’t have a drummer, I don’t know what we’re going to do.

As I walk in, Meara’s head lifts, and she smiles bright behind pink lips. “Hey, you.” She leans over the bar top and kisses my cheek, her longer blond hair is tame for her style, but seeing as she’s a mom now, I guess she toned it down a little. “Hey, Gabe. Holy shit, it’s so good to see you.” That’s Meara. Happiest and most outgoing chick I’ve ever met in my life.

“You, too, babe.” I sit down and toss my cell on the bar top as I look around the fairly empty place. “Here alone?”

She shakes her head and expertly pours out a beer without me having to ask her, the huge rock on her finger reflecting the light from the neon sign behind the bar. “No. Lisa’s just taking a break before it gets swamped, and Nik’ll be here in about an hour.” That makes sense since Lisa is Nik’s, and the way he is, he won’t want her to be without him behind the bar. Especially not after what happened to her a couple of years ago.

I take the frosty mug and bring it to my mouth. “Thanks.”

She waves off my appreciation. “What’s with the long face?”

Behind the glass, I raise a brow. “What?”

“You look upset or something, and you really shouldn’t be. It’s Christmas, and you’re home. Life is good.”

Liam’s really lucky he nailed such a great woman, and not in the sexual way, though I could see how he’d want all that spice in his bed. Meara is as loyal as they come. Stood by him when shit got real and gave as good, if not better, than she got.

“I’m good, Meara.”

She rolls her eyes like she doesn’t believe me, and I hop off the stool, knowing if I stay, she won’t stop the inquisition. “I’m gonna go shoot pool. If your worse half gets here, let him know I’ll be up to kickin’ his ass in a game.”

“He should be here in a little over an hour, so I’ll let him know. Have fun.” She wiggles her fingers at me, and I wave dramatically back, making her laugh as I walk away.

The pub has a game room on the second floor, and it’s the sickest thing ever. Old-school video games and darts and pool. They even got a shuffleboard a couple of years ago.

I’m on my third game and third beer when I finally get my head out of my ass and text my sister.

I’ll take care of your cats.

She replies immediately. Don’t bother.

Don’t be a bitch. I said I’ll take care of them.

Don’t be a dick. I said don’t bother.

God, my sister has an attitude and a temper like no other woman I’ve ever met. But then again, so do I. I wish I could say this is the first time we’ve gone head to head, but sadly, it’s not even close to the only time. It is, however, the first time she told me to lose her number, and that shit doesn’t sit right with me.

She’s my sister, no matter what, and no matter how pissed I am at her, I’d never cut ties with her. And not just because she’s essentially the only family I get along with… for the most part. But because she’s always there when I need her. When nobody else gets me, she always understands and doesn’t make me feel like a loser.

You asked me to do it, so I’m doing it.

You’re not.

Gianna.

I wait for her reply, and she doesn’t disappoint. It’s fine. I don’t need you to. Seriously, forget I asked. Then a moment later, another one comes in. But don’t forget my number.

My lips tilt up, and I feel the chest tightness from earlier soften as it dissipates completely.

Never.

Just as I shove my phone back in my pocket, Liam shows up.

“Heard you were lookin’ for an ass whoopin’?”

We shake hands and pat each other on the back. “How are ya?”

I’ve known him almost my entire life, so when he smiles, and says, “Good, man,” I know he’s lying.

“You sure?”

He runs his hands through his hair and nods. “Yeah. It’s all good.”

Our very first performance as Reason to Ruin was at our eighth-grade graduation. When Lee left a few years ago—damn, a little over four—it was something we all knew was coming but didn’t want to happen. As much as we understood it, it sucked for us. Liam Anders was and is one of the best drummers of our generation. He brought so much to the band—with not only his music but also his lyrics—that in the time we’ve been without him, it’s been harder than anyone wants to admit. And now, it sucks even fuckin’ worse since his replacement, fucking Kolby Rappaport, left… or got kicked out, whichever way you want to look at it.

“I saw your post with Melody playing drums the other day.” I’m not surprised she’s better than any kid I’ve ever seen in my life.

The knowing look he gives me isn’t cocky, it’s proud. “She’s good, huh?”

“Dude. For a four-year-old? Are you kidding me?”

“I know. She’s perfect. Causing mayhem wherever she goes, but her mom is Meara, so I’m not surprised.” I ignore the stab of whatever the hell that was in my chest when I wondered if my kid would like to play the guitar, but because I don’t want kids, I have no clue where that shit came from. “She goes to this thing at the library where the librarian sings and reads stories, so whenever she comes home from that, she wants to play.”

“Cool.” I then nod toward the pool table. “Wanna rack?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Over the next couple of hours, we play a few games. We’re joined by Mike a little later, and not surprisingly, Jamie doesn’t come. But I don’t blame him. A few members of Liam and Meara’s family show too; her brother Pierce and her cousin’s husband, Travis. We all play pool and shoot the shit like old times, and it’s exactly what I needed.