Write Your Own Song

Chapter 26

"Ugh. I hate this song. Come on, change the station."

Bobby growled deep in his throat and swatted at the arm that was wagging over the back of the seat, reaching for the radio. "That ain't being invisible. You said, 'you won't even know I'm here.' Well, your nagging from the backseat is making that pretty fucking hard."

Jolene sighed dramatically, resting her head on the back of Bobby's seat, running her red tipped nail over the old radio. "I don't see what the big deal is." She was doing that purring crap again. He couldn't believe she thought that shit worked.

"The big deal is that this is my car and what I say goes," Bobby said as he reached forward, knocked her hand out of the way and turned the radio off, twisting the knob so hard that it broke off in his hand. He tossed it into the backseat, blindly aiming for her head. "Happy now?"

Bobby glanced in the rearview mirror and watched as Jack's one night stand crossed her arms and pushed her lower lip out, pouting like a six year old who got told she couldn't play with her Barbies. Leave it to his dumbass brother to hookup with the one chick in fifty states more annoying than Sofi.

Jack leaned forward in the passenger seat, attempting to fiddle with all the remained of the radio dial.

"Keep your hands off my stuff."

"I was just gonna …" Jack started to whine.

"I don't fucking care. You're just as annoying as she is. Should stick you both in the trunk for the next hundred miles and enjoy the drive for a change."

Bobby watched as Jack pulled out the cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. Jack punched some numbers and frowned.

"Something wrong?" Bobby asked.

"Battery's dead."

"How can the fucking battery be dead? We haven't used the stupid thing in over a day."

"You spent three hours stalking through the hotel room, trying to get a signal. Batteries don't last forever." Jack closed it and slipped it back into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette at the same time.

"Well?" Bobby asked.

"Well what? We'll power it back up when we get to a motel. It's not like I can plug it into a cow." Jack nodded toward the window and the miles of farmland they were driving through. He tucked the cigarette into his mouth and reached forward for the lighter in the dashboard. He was about to push it in when Bobby knocked his hand out of the way.

"No smoking in my car." Bobby rolled his neck, wishing the tension and exhaustion would disappear.

Jack leaned back, slouching in his seat, but Bobby could feel his eyes on him, knew he was watching him. The kid was about to say something, though with Jack it usually took him a while to get up the nerve to actually speak, so Bobby had to sit there and wait while his brother twisted the words around in his brain and stared through him like he was trying to read his mind.

Bobby finally had enough. "What?" he asked, more annoyed than he really needed to be.

Jack ran his hands through his hair. "Um …" he started and Bobby fought the urge to punch him again, give him a matching bruise on the other side of his jaw. Jack had goaded him into punching him with his whole "don't baby me" crap, but he'd felt bad about it as soon as he'd done it. Now he was just starting to think the kid had a masochistic streak he wasn't aware of.

"Jesus Christ, Jack, if you don't spit it out I'm going to pull this car over and … fuck, I don't know … just something. This has been the longest goddamn two days in a long time, and yes I'm including the shit that went down in Chicago. Quit being a pussy and just fucking say what you want to say."