Free Nocturnes by Kendall Grey

witnessed won’t be leaving my memory any time soon. No condoms with all those guys. Recipe for fucking disaster with a side of oozing sores. I’m rather fond of my dick, thank you.
    Not to mention, that Duane guy would like nothing better than to have his way with me if I show my face in Nocturnes again. And Lola told me to stay away.
    Fuck, I’m torn. What exactly would I have to gain by going back there? Another black eye? More unrequited lust? An incurable case of dick rot?
    Do I really want Lola enough to risk all that?
    The front door opens, and a commotion follows. Jillian bitches about the wait at the airport. Heavy footsteps reverberate off the hardwoods. Clunking and rolling. Jinx and Toombs guide their wheeled suitcases through the hall toward the stairs. I lower my head too late. Jinx pauses by the kitchen entry, tilts her chin up, and stretches for an upside-down kiss from Toombs behind her. My stomach churns.
    “Hey, you guys. How was your trip?” Letty calls.
    Jinx startles. Her cheeks redden when she sees me. Toombs fills in behind her and slips his arms around her waist. I hate the way they touch each other. Fucking hate it.
    “Good.” Jinx avoids my eyes. Just as well. “My brother’s recital was amazing. And seeing my family rocked too. How was Mardi Gras?” Now she faces me. Because any time partying or alcohol is involved, Rax must be involved by default.
    If the shoe fits…

    “Shades and Rax are hungover, if that tells you anything,” Letty says. “Me? I took it easy. Got a fuckload of beads, though. I saved some cool drum ones for you. You wanna see?”
    Jinx smiles. “Sure.” She follows Letty out of the kitchen, leaving behind the guys and Jillian, who drops her ass into a chair at the table and waves Toombs over.
    “Plant it. We’ve got shit to discuss.” She smacks the table twice.
    Moving slowly, Toombs takes the seat farthest from me, next to Shades, who seems thoroughly entranced by the crispy flakes floating in the white sea inside his bowl. Toombs winces when his ass hits the cushion. Jinx must’ve done a number on him recently. Maybe she dildo fucked him. Or caned him as he came. He loves that.
    I shove in another bite of artificially flavored fruit pastry and look away.
    “Mardi Gras is over, and it’s time to get serious about recording this album,” Jillian says. “We’re scheduled in the studio in a couple of hours. Griff, the new producer, wants to share his vision for the record. Give him input. If you don’t like something, tell him. He knows what works and what sells, so I want you to be open to trying different things.”
    She turns to me. “Rax, I need you sober for the next couple of weeks. I’ll let you off the hook on the weekends as long as I don’t get any more calls from the police station or hospital. But I’m dead fucking serious. You fuck this up for the rest of us, and I’ll put your ass on a plane back to Athens and find someone who can handle it.”
    Of course you will, bitch.

    Shades glances at me, then lowers his head to snag another spoonful of cereal. Jillian points back and forth between Toombs and me. “And whatever this silent treatment shit is, get the fuck over it. As guitarists for Killer Buzz Float, you two have the tightest musical relationship in this band. I want to feel every harmony, every lick, and every syncopated rhythm like an orgasm in my ears. Audio jack-offs. Got it?”
    Avoiding my eyes, Toombs nods, his goatee twitching. I press my lips together and nod too. Jillian opens her cigarette case and pulls out a smoke. She vacates the kitchen and heads toward the courtyard in the back of the house.
    Shades pushes out his chair and stands awkwardly, bowl in hand. He opens his mouth a couple of times before actually speaking. “I know tensions are still high, but if there’s anything I can do…” He roughs his hair. “You cats know where I am.”
    He dumps his unfinished bowl in the sink, and Toombs and I are