Page 22 of Jealous God
“Theyspatat her?” Dion pushed himself out of the chair, his movements a little unsteady, but he didn’t fall down. His anger was keeping him upright.
“Sit the hell down.” Erik was suddenly there, like some suit wearing blond avenging angel. “Where the hell do you think you are going?”
For a moment, Dion looked confused. “To get a flight home, to…”
“You can’t do anything now, Dion, and going to her will just add fuel to the fire.”
Dion spluttered, and on this one I had to agree with him. If I had been in his situation, then I would want to go to her as well. Lola sure as hell didn’t deserve what was happening to her. This kind of shit was why I never understood people who got into relationships with men in our profession. Surely, love alone wasn’t enough to make someone put up with this crap. Before I could stop myself, my eyes fell on Elodie.
This whole Dion mess was a stark reminder as to why nothing could happen between us. No matter how much I wanted it to.
“You can’t be serious, Erik?”
“Deadly. There’s nothing you can do but finish this tour and let me do damage control.” Erik did not look pleased by that idea.
“You want me to let her face this shit storm alone?”
“I want you to do your job and let me do mine. Lola will be fine until you can talk to her in person.”
Behind them, Louis made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat.
“Louis, if you can—”
I didn’t know what Dion was about to ask because he didn’t get a chance to speak.
Louis whirled on him, his anger finally breaking free. “She doesn’t want to talk to you, Dion. She probably won’t ever want to speak to you again. You were warned to leave her alone, and this is the reason why. Everyone knew Isla was going to cause problems, but you put your dick in my sister, anyway.”
Everyone had warned him. The words echoed in my head. Just like Erik had warned us off pursuing Elodie. Had warnedme.
No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t touch her.
TWELVE
Jax
What was the old saying?
The show must go on.
In our case, or more specifically for Dion, that was doubly true. We had a show, and we couldn’t do it without him. No matter how much he might wish it was different, how much he might prefer that he could sit and drown his troubles in the bottom of a vodka bottle.
In reality, it was a wonder he had been sober enough to perform at all, but somehow Elodie had managed it. I didn’t know what she had said to him when she had asked for us all to leave them together. None of us knew what they spoke about, but I was thankful for whatever it was. Because when Dion opened his mouth and started singing, it was almost like old times. To the thousands crowded below us, he seemed normal. It was only to us, to those few who knew what a hard time he was having, that he all was not as it seemed. We noticed the microscopic differences.
Still, it went better than I thought it would, considering. In fact, if anything, the crowd was even more wild than usual, and I loved it. I fed off of their energy just like I knew the others did. We were vampires like that, but instead of blood, we fed on their adoration. And it was that adoration that I let caress me. But even as I played my heart out to them, my mind kept wandering to the day I had spent with Elodie.
Her effect on me was unparalleled; she calmed me and infuriated me in equal measures. A day with no one but her for company had given me a glimpse under the lofty exterior she wore like a shield. The others had seen it from day one, but not me. I was blinded by her for sure, but I never realised just how good she was.
I was so caught up in the memories of her small hand in mine as we strolled the streets and acted like I was just a regular guy, that I almost missed my cue. It was only when the lights dimmed that I realised.
Shit.
I hadn’t made such a rookie mistake in years. It wasn’t like I didn’t know these songs. They were my damn songs. And yet the memory of her was enough to send me off kilter. And they weren’t even memories of her laid out naked under me. Just the simple feel of her hand in mine.
If any of the others had made such a mistake, I would have roasted them. They would never hear the end of it. So that's what I was expecting when I made my way off stage. Sweat dripped down my face and body. Erik was there handing out towels, his face split wide in a smile as he congratulated us on a show well done. I barely heard him as my eyes swept around the dark wings, desperately trying to find Elodie’s form amongst the busy crew.
I turned around, doing a full circle with my guitar held forgotten in my hands. “Where’s Elodie?”
She hadn’t been there when we had gone on stage either, but that time I had held my tongue even when every part of me couldn’t wait to give her our ritual pre-show kiss. Hell, I hadn’t kissed her all day. Not because I hadn’t wanted to, but because I hadn’t wanted to push my luck. But I couldn’t hold in the questions anymore. Where the hell was she?
