Rock Hard (Sinners on Tour 2)

“It doesn’t sound the same without a pick,” Trey said to Jace.

“I know, but you could play. Try it.”

Trey clamped his pick between his teeth, freeing the fingers of his left hand. He tried strumming with his index finger and thumb. “It feels weird.”

“It’s not permanent,” Jace said. “Just ’til you can hang on to your pick.”

“It sounds weird, too.”

“Maybe we can get you a banjo pick,” Jace suggested.

“A banjo pick?”

“Yeah, they slip over the tip of your finger. You don’t have to hold them.”

Trey sighed. “Fuuuuck, this sucks.” He shook his head. “I suck.”

Sed clapped him on the back vigorously. “We should have conked you on the head years ago. The fans love it.”

“The fans love that I suck?”

Sed shook his hand. “The fans love your devotion. They know you’re out there for them.”

“He’s out there for you, you idiot,” Eric said. Sed’s brow furrowed, but before he could ask for clarification, Eric changed the subject. “Brian seems more tired than usual from doing all that improvised solo and riff fill. We should head back and let him off the hook.” Eric wrapped an arm around Trey and squeezed his shoulder. “You ready?”

“You could take my place.” Trey looked ill at the thought of returning to the stage.

“I could. But then who’s going to play drums?”

Trey took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

Eric directed Trey back toward the stage, his arm still around him. “I hope you’re in the mood for female booty tonight. You don’t mind if I watch, do you? Of course you don’t.”

“Actually, I’m not in the mood for any booty tonight.”

Eric’s arm tightened around Trey’s neck and he covered Trey’s forehead with his large hand. “Oh my God, you must be dying. Doesn’t feel like you have a fever.” He grabbed Trey’s chin. “Say ahhhhh.”

Trey laughed and opened his mouth. “Ahhhhh.”

Eric tilted his head to look in Trey’s mouth. “Tonsils appear normal. Don’t tell me…” Eric looked gravely serious. Sed couldn’t help but snigger at his antics.

“Don’t tell you what?” Trey asked.

“They performed the wrong surgery. You’ve had…” Eric closed his eyes as if the thought was too difficult to bear. “…a vaginoplasty.”

Trey scowled and flipped him off. “Aw, f**k you, Eric.”

“Not me, I don’t swing that way, but I’ve heard if you get Brian drunk enough…”

Trey’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Don’t get your hopes up. Myrna doesn’t share well with others.”

“Sometimes she does.” Trey winked.

Eric and Jace exchanged surprised glances.

“Did you all have a threesome?” Eric asked.

“Maybe.”

“You lucky son-of-a-bitch.”

Sed stared up at the rigging above the stage, pretending he didn’t care. Brian let Trey do Myrna? How the f**k had Trey managed that? Sed just had to come within three feet of the woman and Brian completely freaked out.

“I want all the details later.” Eric released Trey’s shoulder at the edge of the stage and headed behind the drum kit.

When Sed reappeared onstage, Brian looked relieved to see him. Sed took the microphone off its stand and headed toward the audience. “Master Sinclair!” he announced, a hand extended in Brian’s direction.

The crowd whistled, applauded, or yelled their appreciation of Brian’s skill. Brian nodded his head in a slight bow and went to check on Trey.

“Anyone think Master Sinclair looks a little worn out?” Sed asked.

“I think he does,” Jace said into Trey’s microphone.

“Sinclair, are you feeling tired lately?”

“Uh, no, Sed, not really,” Brian said, also into Trey’s microphone.

“Feeling a little low in the back?”

“Nope.”

“Left ring finger cramping up on you?”

Brian chuckled. “Oh, I get what you’re doing.”

Sed smiled his most shark-like grin.

Brian held up his left hand to the audience, showing off his thick platinum wedding band. “I got married about a month ago.”

“Sorry, ladies,” Trey said, ruffling Brian’s hair. “He’s taken.”

“Yes, I am,” Brian agreed, his eyes shifting backstage to where Myrna stood watching the show next to Jessica. Myrna blew Brian a kiss.

The news prompted mostly cheering from the crowd, but some female booing as well. Sed hoped getting some of the attention off Trey would help him deal with his situation a little better. He wasn’t sure what else to do for him.

“What about you, Sed?” someone at the front of the audience yelled. “You still engaged to that hot piece of ass from Vegas? When do we get another video of you f**king her?”

Sed’s head swiveled toward the audience, his heart thudding, his blood hot. “Who said that?”

The people surrounding the big-mouthed jackass backed away slightly, leaving a circle of empty space around him.

“I’m gonna kick your f**king ass,” Sed bellowed. Before he could dive off the stage and beat the ever-lovin’ shit out of the douche bag, someone grabbed the back of his shirt.

Brian shook his head at him. “Don’t lose your cool, dude.”

Too late. He was tired of everyone treating Jessica like a piece of meat. She was so much more than her perfect outer shell. Jessica appeared at his elbow and pulled the microphone out of his hand. He looked at her in surprise.

“You know what would be nice?” she said into the microphone, looking up at Sed. Instantly, he found himself lost in her wide jade-green eyes. “If all these limp dicks would find a woman of their own and get laid occasionally. Maybe then they’d have less time to jack off to our sexual adventures.”

She kissed his jaw and handed the microphone back to him before returning to her place beside the stage. Sed chuckled and rubbed his forehead. She sure handled things better than he did. “Best lay on the planet, and she’s smart, too,” he murmured into the microphone. He glanced over his shoulder at Trey, who was smiling broadly. “You ready?” he called to the band.