Chapter 14
SLIP
I stretched out on one of the long sofas in my band’s dressing room, still recovering from the long flight from LA to London two days ago. My friends had slept the whole way, but I’d struggled to get comfortable on our private jet. I usually could sleep anywhere, but not on this tour. Planes were not my friend. My hip had protested against every position I’d laid in.
But time with Maddy had been worth the trip home. Like always, she’d worried about how we’d make things work and got upset over the gossip surrounding Harper. Totally understandable. I was too. Hopefully my new ink had sealed the deal, proving to Maddy how much I loved her. I’d helped take care of her mom, who’d had a panic attack rather than anything more serious. She hadn’t even had a fever.
Still, since Maddy was worried about her mom, we’d stayed at her place for the rest of the weekend. We’d skirted around talking about post-tour plans, and yet again delayed them as we’d dealt with enough highs and lows, gossip and drama for one quick catchup.
Nothing tore my heart in two more than the tears rolling down Maddy’s cheeks and the last taste of her sweet lips before I had to leave.
I wanted to stay, but the tour pulled me away.
Four more weeks until I saw her again.
Sixteen shows.
Nine cities.
The countdown is on.
I took a deep breath and refocused. In a few hours, the guys and I would play in front of sixty-five thousand people at the O 2 arena—one of the biggest shows of the tour. The first of three back-to-back nights.
As Flint, Cole, and Lewis sank onto the adjacent sofa for our pre-soundcheck meeting, the nervous energy and buzz skipping between us hummed through the air. But my hip didn’t share the same high. I’d have to take it steady on stage.
April, Blake, and Falcon, our tour manager, took to the sofa opposite me. But the serious vibe coming off them meant only one thing. Trouble . April tapped her stylus pen against her tablet’s screen. “To kill the gossip surrounding Slip’s affair that won’t go away, and push some positivity around your sellout shows, we’ve added a few publicity appearances to your schedule while here in London.”
I winced, letting out a frustrated breath. Fucking Harper. I still wanted to kill her. She’d posted one “I’m not with Slip” comment on socials, and she’d gotten to lay low and out of sight while we’d been in LA. Now she got to hang out in the hotel with Charlotte while the guys and I...and Maddy, back in Vancouver...had to face the paparazzi and deal with the bullshit that had been published about me, Harper, and Maddy. I hated having to drag the guys into damage control because of ludicrous online lies.
Maddy and I had done some outings in LA with the help of April and Jodie. We’d taken her mom out to dinner at a popular restaurant and ensured we were photographed. Maddy and I had PDA’d like motherfuckers, hugging and kissing and holding hands. I’d loved every minute of it, but Maddy wasn’t into showing off like that. I didn’t enjoy that element of it, but we’d survived. Our united front had shot down some of the stupid rumors, and hopefully, so would whatever April had planned.
But I was exhausted just thinking about it.
“How many appearances is a few?” I wriggled the furry black cushion beneath my head to get more comfortable.
“We’ve run a quick promo today in association with some of the local radio stations and doubled the number of VIP meet-and-greet ticket-holders before tonight’s show. Tomorrow, we have the planned interviews and photoshoots with GQ and NME before soundcheck.” She scrolled through her screen. “On Saturday, I’ve squeezed in a visit to a children’s hospital for lunch, followed by your show. Finally, on Sunday, I pulled every string possible and secured a table at the prestigious London Arts Charity Gala dinner. Blake and Falcon have also arranged for you to perform a few songs at the after-party. Any questions?”
What the fuck? I rubbed my tired eyes. “That’s too much on top of our three huge shows. We can’t fit all that in around rest.”
“We absolutely can.” Flint’s eyes lit up as he clapped and rubbed his hands together. “It’ll be awesome.”
I had no issues with promo. Putting smiles on kids’ faces during our hospital visits made me count my blessings every day. My buggered hip was nothing compared to some illnesses those kids faced. That was why I didn’t complain about my aches and pains...Well, not too often. But another gig playing at an after-party? Then straight to Edinburgh for our next shows? Fuck. I stretched my hip and massaged the dull ache. This much pain before performing wasn’t good.
“Something wrong?” Lewis leaned over and ruffled my hair.
“No...but yes.” Smiling, I smacked his hand away as worry injected lead into my bones. I sat upright and stretched, bending from side to side to release the tension in my joint. “I’ve just got to watch my hip. Ease up a bit.”
“You fuck Maddy too much again?” Cole arched one eyebrow and threw me a devilish grin.
“There is no such thing as too much fucking.” Playfully smirking, I shook my head. “But we have a lot of shows coming up, additional shows, and we’re not getting much downtime. I don’t want us to burn out.”
Worry darkened Flint’s eyes. “Slip? Since when have you said no to promo?”
“Since now.” Pain stabbed and radiated across my lower back.
“You want us to skip it?” Flint leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’re in this together. If you want to wind things back, say so.”
Maddy’s voice sifted through my head. I had to stand up for what I needed. Flint would do anything I asked him to, but it would crush him not to perform. After everything he’d been through following the loss of Phil, finding music again, and thriving on stage, he needed to live every second of this tour. I couldn’t take that away from him. I wouldn’t let him down. I didn’t want to be the brakes on the band.
I had a job to do. Perform. I was the life of the party. The crazy one. I had a reputation to maintain and expectations to meet.
I closed my eyes and drew air deep into my lungs. Our schedule played through my mind. London would be overloaded with promo and shows, but the cities after that wouldn’t be so bad. I dug my fingers into my thighs—anything to distract me from the throb hammering in my back and side. “No, I’m good. Just making sure you slow fuckers can keep up.”
“You know we can.” Lewis threw his arm around Cole and hollered, “It’s going to be awesome.”
But that night, I limped around on stage like an old man. I fucking hated it. I had to take an extra pain-killer after the show and a sleeping pill just to get some rest.
During our second performance in London, I barely left my mic, but I played my goddamn heart out. However, the following morning, I woke to a new low. Reputable entertainment sites and tabloids had reported I was nothing but a dead weight, dragging the show down by being unengaging on stage. Some had even said that if I stopped flying across the globe and seeing two women, I’d do a better job. What the fuck? The articles hit harder than normal. They were all bullshit.
Utter bullshit!
Just as we were about to go on stage for our third London show, Blake caught my arm.
“Hey?” He jutted his chin at me. “What was with last night? Was it just an off day or don’t you want to fucking be here?”
“Fuck you.” I yanked my arm free of his hold. “My hip was playing up. That’s it.”
“Do you need Jade or someone else to look at it again?”
“No. It’s fine.” But it already throbbed, and pain twanged across my lower back.
“Good.” He dipped his chin, but steel set in his gaze. “I got a call from our sponsors, Rail Energy Drinks, threatening to pull their support because you played like a sack of dull shit. That’s not the vibe they want for their brand. I’ve talked them ’round for now. So don’t piss them off any further.” He pointed toward the auditorium. “Those fans out there have come to see you be electric on stage. They’ve paid a fuck-load to be here. Give them a show. We don’t need any more bad reviews about your lackluster performance.”
“I’m injured,” I hissed through my teeth. “You know that. But I give my best every night I step on that stage. ”
“It hasn’t looked like it for the past two nights.” Saltiness slid through his tone as he cocked his head to the side. That wasn’t like Blake. He always had our backs. He was under enormous pressure during this tour too, making sure everything ran on time and on budget, and that everyone was where they had to be, and knew what was going on every second of the day. It wasn’t like him to snap.
I clenched my fists as fire barreled through my veins in hot bursts. “Just because I’m not prancing around doesn’t mean I’m not giving one thousand percent.”
“I understand that. But the online reviews saying you’re not focused, and playing like a mopey old man, aren’t what we need.”
My heart lurched, sinking into the pit of my stomach. “I wasn’t. So fuck ’em.”
“Whatever is going on, deal with it. But do it after the show. You get out there and give that crowd a night to remember. Keep the sponsors happy. So here...” He dug into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. “This will help. Let me know if you need more. I can get you anything, anytime.”
He tucked his key chain into my hand. I froze, knowing what it was. To the average person it would look like a small metal LED torch, but inside it was a vial of cocaine.
“Blake.” Fear cinched around my heart as I shoved it back at him. “I don’t do that shit anymore.” Not since...shit...New Year’s.
“You and I both know that’s not true.” He smirked as he pushed my hand back toward me. “It’s just a little pick-me-up. The next few days are overloaded. After London and Edinburgh, we won’t be so busy.”
I closed my eyes and swayed on my feet. I clutched the torch in my hand. My heart skipped a beat and shuddered. Fuck ...I loved cocaine. The high. The burst of energy. The kick of adrenaline. The rush through my body. The tingle when I’d rubbed it on my gums.
Sweat broke out on the back of my neck. I fought this craving every day, afraid that if I took another hit, I’d want another and wouldn’t be able to stop. “Blake. No. I can’t.”
“It’s just for tonight.” His tone punched low in my guts. “We’ll get that hip and back looked at again. We need a good show, Slip. The others feed off your energy.”
Nothing like more pressure. “I don’t need this shit to do that.” I slapped the key chain against his chest.
“Keep it.” He pushed my hand away again and patted my shoulder. “Just in case.”
I stared at the fake torch in my palm. I rolled it this way and that. The white powder called to me. Coaxed me. Tempted me until my veins burned. A fevered rush shot through my system. My pulse thudded in my head. Fuuuuck! No. No. NO! I crushed the torch into my fist, then tucked it in the pocket of my jeans.
Think of Maddy. The guys.
I don’t need this shit.
We hit the stage, and I gave the audience one hell of a show. I wanted to take it easy, but the electric energy of the crowd and our music overtook me. I jumped and rushed around the stage, ripping up every song on my guitar. I loved performing. The guys beside me. The adoration from the audience.
It’d have been even better if Maddy was there.
Watching me.
Waiting for me offstage.
We hit our amped up rock hit. Sweat soaked my hair, saturated my leather vest, and slicked my skin. The adrenaline coursing through my veins, powered every jump and skip, and overruled the pain in my hip. Cole slammed out the beat on his drums. Lewis set the rhythm with his bass. I slayed my electric as Flint took to the mic .
I think I’m losing it, losing it,
Over all these feelings I have for you.
I’ve never felt like this, felt like this,
My mind is always stuck on you.
I think I’m losing it, losing it,
And I want to come back for more.
And more, and more.
You’re like a fix to me, fix to me,
Come on and give me my next high.
Come on and give me all your lovin’,
Give me all your lovin’,
Because I want to do the same to you.
You tempt me like blazing fire, blazing fire,
Fill me with hot desire, all for you.
It’s burning through my veins, through my veins,
Melting away all my restraint.
You’re like a fix to me, fix to me,
Come on and give me my next high.
Lost in the beat, I spun around and struck my strings, playing up to the audience. I hollered and waved to them between the notes and chords I churned out. The energy radiating off the mass of people spurred me on. Riff after riff. Progression after progression. Oh yeah. Full of fire, I stepped up onto the riser next to Cole’s drums. To end the song, I jumped high in the air and slammed on my strings.
My feet connected with the stage.
Pain shot through my hip.
“A rgh! Fuck!”
I buckled, collapsing to the floor. I landed on my sore side. Noooo! Rolling onto my back, I lay sprawled out like a dead snow angel on the stage. Holding my guitar across my waist with one hand, I clutched my hip with the other. Tears pricked my eyes. Shit. Fuck. Shit.
Lewis rushed over, laughing, but his smile disappeared as pain contorted my face. “Dude. What the fuck? Are you okay?” He held out his hand to help me up.
Biting through the agony spearing my hip, down my leg, and into my toes, I nodded. “Fuck yeah. Help me up.”
Once I got to my feet and pumped my fist in the air, the audience cheered and whistled.
“Slip, you mad motherfucker,” Flint said into his mic. “You okay?”
I limped over to my mic, nodded, then repositioned my guitar. I dug deep, summoning a huge I’m-good smile. “Of course. What are you waiting for? Let’s fucking rip.”
But my vision blurred. Nausea flooded my gut. Pain burned in my hip.
Shit! I can do this. I can make it through.
Gritting my teeth, I struck the first note of the next song. But worry blazed in Flint’s eyes. There was no disguising I was hurt. He mouthed, ‘ You need to stop? ’
I shook my head, willing the agony throbbing across my lower back, up my spine, and into my shoulders to stop.
After giving the show all I had in reserve, somehow I made it through. Adrenaline had kept me going. But the minute we rushed off stage, I collapsed onto the sofa in our dressing room. Acid burned the back of my eyes. “Get me Jade. Now,” I hissed in Blake’s direction.
“On it.” Blake charged out of the room.
“I don’t know how you kept playing, bro.” Flint sank onto the sofa opposite me. Sweat still dripped off the tips of his hair, his face and arms. “I could feel pain radiating off you after that fall.”
“Sorry for laughing.” Guilt riddled Lewis’s face as he placed his hand over his chest. “You done more damage to your hip?”
“Whatever I’ve done, it’s bad. I’m in fucking agony. I’ll have to go to the hospital and get it checked.” Fear gripped my throat. As long as I could continue the tour, I didn’t care what was wrong.
“You want us to come?” Cole wiped sweat off his face with a towel and then hooked it around his neck.
“No. But get me an ice pack, please.” I pointed to the fridge in the corner.
Two minutes later, Jade strode in. I striped down to my boxer briefs for her to examine my hip. It had swollen and had transformed my tattoos into a dark angry patch.
Fuck. I thumped my head against the arm of the sofa. So. Not. Good.
“Slip? Let’s get to the emergency center.” She rose to her feet. “I don’t think you’ll be doing any more stage jumps for a while.”
“No. Guess not.” I hated that. “But I’ll still play, even if I have to sit in a wheelchair.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Flint smirked. “But you knew not to overdo it.”
“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.