Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
“I’m not interested in what you think, I’m going into town.”
“Tell me what you want, and we’ll have it delivered.” Ches, my bandmate suggested.
“I’m going for a bite to eat at the diner,” I insisted. “And anyway, they likely don’t do deliveries in a place like this.”
“Think about it. If you go out, you’ll only get drunk, bump uglies with some hard-up chick with one tooth in her head or something and regret it in the morning.”
“Ha! You think? Jesus, it’s a back-end mountain town in Montana,” I reminded him, gesturing out of the window at the vast expanse of wilderness surrounding the tiny, getaway cabin I’d recently bought.
“Still,” he began to placate.
“Did you see that sign as we came into town. Population 136. That’s one hundred and thirty-six souls—period. Now how many of them are likely to be younger than dirt? Who’d be interested in some guitarist from an alternate rock band? You see where I’m going with this?” I argued.
“Jesus, you’re as stubborn—”
“Not stubborn,” I snapped, cutting him off.
“I’m pissed because you think we’re so special that we can’t walk down a normal street, in the middle of nowhere.
Besides, it’s winter and there’s more snow coming.
My guess is that people will either be out hunting bear, elk or deer…
or tucked up at home, prepping their next meal.
Hell, the weather’s so brittle I’d bet a few might even be bunked up in bed with a book at 2:30 p.m. on a bleak Sunday afternoon. ”
“You underestimate your fame, Louis. Not only is our band gathering pace in the fame game, but you also have an even more famous brother. How many people don’t know who Korry Moonan is?
You were famous just by being related to one of the Screaming Shadows bandmates, long before what Peep Toe Shoes had achieved as a band.
Remember what happened three weeks ago when you went—”
“And I should have known better,” I replied, cutting him off once I’d anticipated yet another regurgitation of an incident I’d been involved in, whereby I’d gotten mobbed by some fans.
It had been a miscalculation on my part, since our band had gained traction in recent months, and I’d taken a stroll to a store near the venue we had been due to play in.
“So? Let that be a reminder of what can happen now that we’re well known,” Ches chastised like he was my mom.
“Like I said, not in a bumfuck, back-of-beyond town here in Montana. If you don’t want to take me, call me a cab or I’ll take a walk down this goddamn mountain before the stores close.”
“Don’t be so crass. What? You think you can call an Uber? Did you check out where we are? There aren’t any cabs here.”
“Exactly because there’s no fucking people to use them,” I replied, sounding exacerbated.
He huffed out a breath. “I don’t know why you need to be so difficult sometimes.”
“Maybe it’s because I have a bandmate who thinks he’s my fucking mother.”
“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he muttered as I shrugged myself into my oversized puffer coat and pulled on a woolen beanie.
Ches, the drummer of our band, jerked his head back from the death glare I bore down on him. “Don’t make me regret inviting you here,” I warned.
“Wait there,” he ordered. He disappeared into the second bedroom of the remote, rustic cabin and came back pulling on an all-in-one ski suit.
In that moment, I cursed myself that I’d never learned to drive, or I wouldn’t have brought him with me.
“Come on,” he demanded. “I don’t know why you didn’t decide you had to do this earlier. It means I’ll need to drive back in the dark,” Ches complained.
“Fuck, if it’s too much of an effort for you, just let me walk,” I suggested.
“I said I’ll take you, didn’t I?” he grumbled while the stuck his feet into his snow boots.
I let out an exasperated breath, but it did nothing to quell my rising temper. “Just get in the fucking car and get me into town,” I muttered, frustrated.
* * *
I didn’t see what all the fuss was about. I mean, the drive down the mountain to the edge of town took less than ten minutes. It would likely have taken five minutes less, had Ches not been so nervous and driven at a normal speed.
Instead, he’d stopped at every corner, sucked in a breath, and huffed out long sighs of relief once we’d made it past them.
The way he’d clutched the steering wheel with white knuckles had reminded me of how my grandma drove at the age of eighty-three.
In all honesty, I was bursting with frustration and think I’d have made it quicker on foot than with him chauffeuring me around.
“Now look,” he muttered, sounding vindicated as he gestured toward the windshield.
And once I’d seen how heavy the snow had begun to come down my stomach dropped.
“So, what’s the backup plan because we’re not getting back up that mountain in this tonight?
If we can’t get anywhere to stay, we’ll be frozen corpses in the morning,” he barked, not even trying to hide the note of mild hysteria in his tone.
“Fuck,” I muttered. I guess we’ll just stay in town for the night,” I muttered, nonchalantly, because the last thing I’d ever do was to admit he might have been right.