Page 125 of Fractured Frets

“Bullshit. You’re more than enough.” Flint leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “If Maddy can’t see that or doesn’t know that by now, it’s her loss.” Sadness darkened his eyes. “You mean the world to us. I won’t walk away from you—not ever. Nor will these guys.” He jutted his chin toward Lewis and Cole. “We will do whatever it takes to help you get better. You don’t have to go through this alone. We’ve got five more weeks of the tour. Are you up for them or not?” He speared me with a fierce, don’t-give-me-any-bullshit glare. “We’ll cancel the rest of the shows if we have to. Your health is our priority. Can you make it through, or do we have to haul your ass to rehab?”

The desperation and worry over me, and the fatigue from touring was embedded into my friend’s faces. But the light and fire to finish what we’d started simmered beneath their concerns. Their love and friendship never faltered. They were my strength.

“I want to finish the tour.” Grit set in my bones as I scratched the side of my neck. “I promised myself I’d stop the pills once we got home, but I’ll start now with Jade’s help.” I would. No question. “I never wanted my injury to affect me. I never wanted to let anyone down by not being full of energy and playing every night. I didn’t want you to be worried. Y’all seem to love every element of touring, and are taking this ride we’re on in your stride, but I’ve struggled every day...with the fame, the gossip, no privacy...and Maddy.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Cole asked.

“I thought I could handle everything. But clearly, I haven’t.” I closed my eyes, tilted my head to one side and cracked my neck to relieve the tension twisting in my nape. “I can’t walk down the street without being recognized. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of fans waiting for us everywhere we go. There’s this pressure every night to put on an incredible show, smile for the crowd, and go beyond everyone’s expectations. I’ve pushed myself to deliver that. Most of the time, this tour has been phenomenal. But there’ve been days where it’s been utter crap.” I grimaced as headlines flashed through my mind. “Every bad review we got was about me being dull, too wild, or too fucked up. That shit hit hard.” I lifted my chin toward Flint. “I have a newfound respect for the flack you took for Phil...and Cole and me. I couldn’t handle the gossip, or the cruel things they wrote about Maddy and me...and the bullshit surrounding Harper. So I wanted to do more, be better, push myself harder. But my body couldn’t take it.”

Flint slid his cup onto the coffee table and bobbed his head. “We’ve all had our ups and downs during this tour, but we never wanted you to suffer.”

I let my head fall back and stared at the ceiling. “Taking meds helped. They were easy, but didn’t last. I wasn’t sleeping. Had no energy. Then hitting stronger and harder shit to cope snuck up on me.” And fuck, I could do with something right now. I shuffled around on the seat and hooked my ankle up on top of my opposite leg. Nope, not comfortable. I leaned forward. Nope, that hurts my hip even more. I sat with my knees wide apart. That’ll do. Fidgety fucker!

“You’re going to get on top of this. I know you will.” Flint’s faith in me never faltered. “It’s been a crazy eighteen months since we signed with Everhide. But we’re killing it. We’re in this together. For life. So Slip, what changes do we have to make so you’re happy? So we can keep growing, getting even bigger, and doing this forever?”

The haze from the pain-killers swam through my head. The comedown from cocaine had sapped me of energy. I wasn’t out for a pity party, but the answer was simple. “Maddy made me happy...then we fucking got married and everything turned to shit.”

“It wasn’t a total disaster.” Cole smirked as he cracked his knuckles, one hand, then the other. “Ava and I heard the two of you fucking in Italy. The walls in that villa were not that thick. That was some serious banging. But we’ll worry about Maddy later. Let’s focus on you for now. We need a plan.”

“I can’t get my hip fixed until after the tour, but I’m afraid surgery won’t work. It terrifies me I might not go on the road ever again.”

“Don’t say that,” Flint snapped. “You will. We’ll get you the best doctors. The best physical therapy. We’ll tour again and you’ll play beside us every night, even if you have to sit in a fucking recliner.” His voice rasped in his throat. “I hate that you’re in so much pain. You should’ve told us, not brushed us off all the time. You don’t have to push yourself so hard.” He flicked his hands toward Cole and Lewis. “None of us want you to be in agony or make things worse. I’ll tell the audience why you’re not jumping around. We’ll post information on socials. Then hopefully, the press won’t slander you for being a deadweight again. To us, you’ll never be one.”

My state of health had no doubt hit him the hardest after losing Phil. I’d never wanted to hurt him, or anyone.

Flint jabbed a finger at me. “So get on top of this shit and get better. You have surgery, go to rehab, get therapy, and do whatever the fuck you need to do to get well again. We’ll be by your side every step of the way. Got it?”

“Yep.” I nodded and lowered my chin. These guys had me. I loved that. I’d always been there for them. I loved they were there for me too. “I’m a downright mess, but I will get better.”

“Good.” Cole dipped his chin. His stern gaze set on me. “We’ve all been fucked up at some point or another in our lives, and we have the scars to prove it. No doubt we’ll go through more crap in the future. But we’ll survive anything and everything together.”

Yes, we would. However, this was on me. I stared out at the garden and steadied my breath. “I know I need help.” Damn...It took all my strength to admit that. “More help than you and Jade can offer. I need to get off these pain-killers. I don’t take much coke or other shit, but I need to get off that too. And the booze. I don’t want to get worse. I’ve lied to myself, to you guys and to Mads for long enough. I truly am fucking sorry.” My heart hit the floor. “Losing Mads was the wake-up call I needed. I’m gonna check into rehab after the tour, straight after surgery. Okay?”

“It sure is,” Flint said. He’d drag me there if I didn’t go. I didn’t want that.

I wanted to get clean. I’d wanted to do it for Maddy, but now she was gone...I had to do it for myself. I needed more than surgery and rehab. I needed to find my way again. Find me.

“There’s something else I need too.” I drew in a steady breath and made sure my head and heart were in check. Yep. All good. “It’s been brewing for a while. Maybe it stemmed from being with Mads, but I need to throw something by you. I love you, guys.” I slapped and gripped Lewis’s knee and met Cole’s and Flint’s gazes. “You’re my family, my best friends...but after this tour, I need a break. I need to get out of LA, sort my shit out, get over Maddy.”

“Yeah. We all need a good vacation.” Lewis nodded as he patted and clasped my hand.

“No. Not just a vacation.” I winced, pulling my hand free, and wiped my clammy palms up and down on my jeans. “I need more than that.”

“What?” Flint slumped like I’d ripped his heart out. “More? What kind of break are we talking about? A few months or something longer? Not permanent, right?”

My foot jiggled. “I . . . I can’t answer that at present.”

“What about awards season?” The rims of Cole’s eyes reddened. “Are you in for that?”

“Not sure.” I shrugged.

“Slip, we don’t want to lose you.” The anguish in Flint’s tone tore me in two. “This—the band—this is our life. I could hit the studio the second we get home. I have all this music burning inside me that needs to come out. After losing touch with writing songs after Phil died, I don’t want to risk losing it again.” His own fatigue flooded his eyes. “But I know everyone is exhausted and needs time off. So how long do you have in mind?”

I pursed my lips, unable to give him a guesstimate. “I need time to figure that out.”

“Okay. Shit. I’ll jump in here.” Cole leaned forward and wrung his hands together. “I have to agree with Slip. Ava and I have two kids to think about. We’re back in time for Josh to start the school year. Charlotte needs to go to kindergarten. I know we have events planned, but I won’t say no to staying at home for a while...maybe a year. We can work on new music, but not push it.”

Flint covered his mouth with his hand and stared out the window. A glassy sheen rippled across his eyes.

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