Page 109 of Fractured Frets

I’ve loved you for so long, don’t want to give up the fight.

Need you here, need you now, right next to me,

I’m coming home, baby, please wait for me.

I glided my fingers over the strings. With each chord I struck, the tension in my shoulder blades and neck tightened. The words that had fallen from my lips sank into the far corners of my mind. I’d told Maddy I was prepared to do anything for her and how much I was willing to sacrifice to be with her, and she still didn’t believe or trust me. When I moved in with her, would she still doubt my every move? Every time either of us had to travel for work, would she always question my integrity?

Would we ever be solid?

Fuck.

At two o’clock, the guys clattered back to the hotel and entered their rooms. I stuffed in my AirPods, found a calming soundtrack on Spotify, and lay down on my bed to rest. Sleep. But after thirty minutes, I was still wired and awake. Fuck this. I popped a sleeping pill and drifted off into oblivion.

I struggled through the next two shows in Munich. My energy was shot. Fatigue crushed me from the inside out. I was a pool of sweat before we stepped onto the stage. My hands shook every night when I crawled into bed. I’d texted Maddy a lot. But she was often too busy to chat.

I couldn’t sleep.

I shuddered, shivered.

What was wrong with me?

I knew . . . but refused to admit it.

We hit Czech. Phil had loved Prague. But we’d never been able to play here together. As the guys and I got ready in our dressing room, the hollers and chants, cheers and clapping from the sold-out auditorium reverberated down the backstage corridors, into our area, and pummeled my chest. Oh yeah. That was wild. It’d be a wicked show.

But my body ached. My hip throbbed. My energy level was zero.

Fuck.

I wouldn’t let down the fans.

While Flint and Lewis got dressed for the show, and Cole talked to Ava and April, I drew Blake aside. “Hey.” Nausea rocked and jolted through my guts as I handed him his empty key chain. “You got any more of this?”

“Sure.” He dug into his jacket and pulled out another identical key ring. “You’re using a bit. You okay?”

“Yep. Just need a little help to get through some of the rough nights.”

Understanding and concern drifted across his eyes as he nodded. “Okay. But I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“Thanks, man.”

Blake was the best manager; he’d always taken care of us. He loved this life, the shows, this business as much as we did. He’d never pushed us too hard, kept us focused, and done whatever was necessary to ensure we took to the stage every night. I had no doubt he’d watch out for me. But I wasn’t a cause for concern. Am I? No...No, I’m not. No fucking way.

Blake patted my shoulder. “It’s gonna be a huge show. Give that crowd a good time.”

“Always.”

I slipped into the bathroom and snorted some blow.

After downing a shot of vodka to wash the taste out of my throat, I joined Cole on the sofa in our dressing room. My leg jiggled as I closed my eyes, fidgeting with my wedding band. My heartbeat raced as I waited for the buzz to kick in.

Then it hit.

Like a stage light turning from dim to full beam, adrenaline kicked through my veins. Holy shit! This stuff is good.

Cole lurched off the seat, grabbed me by the front of my leather vest, and hauled me to my feet. “Outside. Now.” He shoved me toward the door and into the hallway. Beckett and Wyatt stepped farther down the corridor to give us some space.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Cole hissed at me.

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