Page 1 of Jealous God
ONE
Jax
Ihad done a lot of foolish shit in my life.
Like a ton.
But I had never gone on stage so hammered that I almost fell off and had to be carried off before the set was even over. I had certainly never been as wasted as our lead singer was tonight. Hell, it wasn’t even just tonight. Dion, sex god and crooner extraordinaire, had been teetering on the edge of a total nervous breakdown since we had kicked off this leg of our world tour in Las Vegas ten days ago. Usually, I wouldn’t have been too worried. He was going through a rough time with the press since his relationship with our old drummer Isla had publicly combusted.
But this was different.
This wasn’t a rockstar having a good time and pushing boundaries. This was someone I cared about hurtling full tilt towards death, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it until the tour was over. And by then I was afraid it would be too late. Dion was going downhill rapidly.
He was spiralling, drinking heavily between shows. Drinking and maybe more. And that by itself was so out of character for Dion that it was scary. Sure, he wasn’t above the odd use of recreational drugs. None of us were, but this felt different.
“Thank fuck that is over.” Finally, back on his feet, Dion gripped one of the iron support girders off stage, swaying where he stood.
One look at him and it was clear that he wasn’t the man he used to be. The fire and passion were gone, and I couldn’t be sure when that had happened. Had he been this miserable back in Vegas when we had picked upRock Song of the Year, the pinnacle of our career so far? If he had been, I hadn’t noticed.
None of us had.
It was pretty hard to miss now, though.
With my back to the darkened stage, I took a deep breath and let the sound of the crowd wash over me. They were screaming for us, just like they had every night we had played so far. Their voices were loud and insistent. And usually, we would have given into them and bounded back onto the stage to give them one last song.
Tonight, there would be no encore.
There probably wouldn’t be for the rest of the tour. Not with Dion acting the way he was.
Our manager, Erik, just wouldn’t allow it; it was too much of a risk. Dionysus Rising might have to finish this tour, but if the look on his face was anything to go by, we would do so quickly and quietly. There was no way that Dion…
My thoughts scattered as Erik himself stepped out of the wings. His blond hair was tousled, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up over his tan forearms. We had worked with Erik for a long time, long before the band had found even an inch of success, and never in all of those years had I ever seen him look so pissed off.
“What the hell was that?” Stopping right in front of our band’s namesake, Erik drew himself up to his full height. Things were about to come to a head, and Dion couldn’t even see it coming. Or maybe he could, and he was just past caring. “What the actualfuck,Dion?”
Dion shrugged, his eyes glazed and unfocused. I had never seen him care less than he did right at that moment. It was a scary thought, because as much as I hated to admit it, Dion was the glue that held Dionysus Rising together.
“Fuck off, Erik.” He waved our manager away, and Erik spluttered, at a loss for words for a few seconds. When he composed himself, I saw violence shining out of his eyes. Erik was the calm one out of all of us, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be an asshole and give us all a run for our money when he needed to.
He didn’t do it often, but one look at his face and I knew he was about to blow. “If this is about Lo—”.
He didn’t even get to finish the sentence. Dion swung for him. It was a sloppy punch made even sloppier by how wasted he was. Erik side stepped him easily, catching his shoulders and holding him at arm’s length.
“Brother…” Tate spoke for the first time since we had left the stage, and the judgement in his voice was palpable.
“Don’t fucking mention her name. Don’t...” Dion’s voice was ragged, and my frown deepened. I was pretty sure Erik had been asking about Lola. Which made absolutely no sense. Why was Dion so messed up over our drummer’s baby sister? Sure, everyone kind of knew they had hooked up at the Summit Awards in Vegas. Although none of us spoke about it. That still didn’t explain why Dion was acting the way he was.
I risked a glance at Louis. “Do you have any idea what is going on?”
In answer, the newest member of Dionysus Rising shoved his hands deep into his pockets and looked away.
Yeah, he knew what all of this was about. He knew, and, like Erik, he wasn’t telling the rest of us.
“Want to let the rest of us into your little secret?” Usually, Tate was the life and soul of the party, especially after a show, but he spoke softly, gently almost. There was anger in his words, though. And that was fine. I was angry as well. Dion’s very public meltdowns were affecting all of us.
“It’s got nothing to do with me,” Louis huffed. As our most recent member, he was the most disposable, though none of us wanted yet another change in our lineup. When Isla, our former drummer, had fallen pregnant by someone else and left, it had almost broken us. No one wanted that again. Plus, Louis was a phenomenal drummer. He brought a new energy to us. And it was an energy I liked.
“So, you didn’t…” Dion rounded on him. “It wasn’t your idea?”
