Page 52 of Fractured Frets

“Nah. I didn’t.” I glared at Blake, standing off to one side of the room. “We gave everyone the show they came to see, right?”

He bobbed his head, but genuine concern glassed his eyes.

Brushing my worries aside, I turned back to the guys and pumped my fist. “We fucking rocked tonight. That crowd was wicked. That was one of the best shows we’ve ever done.” I waved toward my hip. “This will be fine. I’ll get it checked out and be back on stage for Edinburgh. Trust me.” I summoned a courageous smile. But doubt twisted through my veins. I didn’t know how much longer I could pretend I was okay. Fuck the gossip and the sponsor—I needed to slow down for a few days, otherwise I wouldn’t make it to the end of the tour.

“You sure?” Worry drifted across Cole’s eyes in steady waves. “We have that charity function tomorrow and a lot more shows ahead. We don’t want you falling apart.”

“I’ll be alright.” But it was too late. My body had already done that, thanks to my own stupidity. I’d pushed myself too hard, gotten lost in the moment. I hated limitations. I hated that pain was a constant presence. I just wanted the agony to fucking stop. How the hell was I going to make it through to September?

Jade patted my shoulder. “I’ll get Beckett and a driver organized. Stay put. I’ll be back in five.”

I sank deeper into the sofa. “It’s not like I can rush off anywhere.”

“Good.” Jade disappeared out of the room. Blake and April hovered in the far corner of our dressing area, possibly preparing for damage control regarding my fall on stage. At least this news wouldn’t hurt Maddy. I’d call her once I’d been to the hospital.

I slowly sat upright as the guys grabbed a bottle of water each and took seats on the sofas.

Cole handed me a bottle. “Slip, you were spot on about one thing. We rocked tonight. That show was incredible. Here’s to London.”

“Hell yeah,” we hollered in unison as we raised our waters high in the air.

Flint took a sip of his drink, then waved the bottle toward me. “Just this jerkoff got too carried away.”

“Nah. Accidents happen. We had a blast.” I flicked his comment aside. “Nothing will keep me down. Promise.”

I prayed that was true.

But the way my hip hurt...it just might knock me flat.

And that frightened the fuck out of me.

Chapter 15

SLIP

It was confirmed. I’d fucked my hip. After x-rays, scans, and an examination, the results showed I’d re-torn my labrum. My old surfing injury, take two. The doctor suggested arthroscopic surgery to stabilize my hip joint, but that wasn’t an option while on tour. Somehow, I had to keep the pain under control for the next four months. More physical therapy, anti-inflammatory medication, pain-killers, and injections would have to do. Jade suggested Fentanyl for a few days. But fuck that shit. I’d tried a lot of drugs, and that crap zombified me. I couldn’t exist like that. I needed to function. Perform. Play. It was a hard no from me.

“Then let’s try oxycodone.” Jade’s tone never faltered from being professional, but a small groove of concern formed between her eyebrows. She was aware of the band’s past, Phil’s addiction, and my intent to avoid falling back into those wild ways. I was already on Drizodone; just how far could I push my boundaries?

My pulse quickened. My head ached. The line was already thin. “Jade? There’s got to be something else.”

“Hey?” She gripped my hand. “I know you’re worried about strong meds. But this is only for a short time. I don’t want you to be in pain for the rest of the tour. I promise, I will help you manage this.”

Popping pills of the strongest opioid medication unnerved me. I didn’t want to fall victim to liking these meds too much. But I needed something stronger to keep the pain under control. This was just temporary. Until I could have surgery.

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”

After a morphine injection and swallowing a strong quick-release pain-killer, a blissful hum settled over me. A small buzz swam through my head. Oh yeah. Love that. Best thing was, there was no pain in my hip. For now.

On the way back to the hotel, I called Maddy. The eight-hour time difference made the thousands of miles between us seem twice as far. My midnight was her late afternoon.

She answered after a few rings.

“Hi. This is a nice surprise.” Her voice was like sunshine down the phone. “We’re just wrapping up the day. Is everything okay?”

The car turned a sharp corner. My hip bumped the car door, and I grimaced. “Nope.” No amount of medication or the sweet tone of her voice could erase the anguish residing deep inside my head. My hip was fucked. I was fucked. “No doubt you’ll see it on the news, but I fell on stage tonight. I jumped around too much and hurt my hip.”

“Oh my God. Are you alright?”

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