Page 7 of Electric Wounds
Jax studies me, his eyes softening. “If it gets to be too much, let me know. We can leave anytime.”
It’s the first real conversation we’ve had all day. On the bus, Jax keeps mostly to himself, but there’s something about him that appeals to me—a sadness that clings to him and makes me want to understand him. Makes me want to fix him. Before I can respond, a group pulls him away, their faces lighting up at the sight of him. He gives me a reassuring nod then disappears into the crowd again.
I make my way back to the living room, trying to find a quiet corner to sit and observe. The scene has gotten even wilder. Groupies are draped over the band members and crew, their hands roaming freely. One woman, barely dressed, is straddling a guy on the couch, sliding up and down on his lap in rhythm with the thumping bass in front of everyone, her head thrown back. I’m surprised that they don’t want more privacy, but then again maybe that’s part of the appeal. Or maybe they’re just too messed up to care.
My eyes are drawn back to Marcus and Dylan again. Their conquest is topless, bouncing between them. Marcus has her legs wrapped around his waist, and it’s obvious what’s happening beneath her skirt. Dylan whispers in her ear while gripping her waist, his eyes dark with lust. The scene is so raw, so unapologetic, that I have to look away, feeling like an intruder.
Scanning the room, I spot Enzo near the front door with a woman clinging to his arm. She’s tall, platinum blonde, and her body seems too perfect to be real. Unease builds as I approach them—Enzo is clearly drunk, more so than I expected for how little time we’ve been here. His movements are sloppy, and I can hear the slur in his voice.
“Let’s go to another party,” the blonde purrs, tugging him toward the door.
“Enzo, what are you doing?” I demand, stepping between them. Enzo hasn’t exactly been welcoming, but that doesn’tmean that I can let him leave with a stranger to an unknown destination. That is literally the first step in kidnapping.
“Get out of my way, Lily,” he snaps, his unfocused eyes flashing with irritation. “We’re going to another party.”
“You can’t just leave,” I argue. “We need to stick together. You’re not thinking straight.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” he growls, trying to push past me with the blonde in tow.
She totters past me on her heels looking smug and I frown in response. Desperate to stop him, I grab his arm. “Enzo, please. Just stay here until I can get the others. We’ll leave together.” He shifts, like he plans to move away and I tighten my grip on his arm slightly, hoping to keep him in place.
Anger flashes in his eyes. Instead of responding, he swings his arm. He’s probably hoping to loosen my grip, but, in his drunken state, the movement is erratic. His elbow connects with my face, sending me stumbling backward.
I release him immediately and my ass hits the floor heavily. Pain explodes in my cheek as I drop.
“Lily!” Jax’s voice is sharp as he rushes to my side, fury flashing in his eyes. He turns to Enzo, his voice low and dangerous. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Enzo’s anger evaporates, replaced by horror. “Lily, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean?—”
“Enough!” Jax barks, cutting him off. “Everyone, back to the van. Now.”
The room falls silent. Even the music quiets as Jax scoops me into his arms, cradling me protectively. As we leave, I catch the faint smell of sex still clinging to him, a reminder of his earlier… choice of activities. It mixes with the throbbing pain in my cheek, making my stomach churn. I don’t say anything, but I feel my stomach twisting in knots. I peek over Jax’s shoulder and findthe rest of the band following us outside, their expressions a mix of guilt and worry.
Jax refuses to let me go, bundling me onto his lap in the van and buckling us both in together despite my protests. His arms create a protective shield, but it doesn’t stop the pain or embarrassment that continues to grow with each passing minute. Every time I try to move from his lap, his grip tightens until I give up, resting against him and letting his warmth soothe me.
The ride back to the venue is tense and silent. As I sit there, my cheek throbbing, I wonder if I’m really cut out for this life. The shows, I can handle. But the after-parties? They might be the death of me.
SIX
THE FALLOUT
Jax
We trudge back to the bus in a silence so thick it feels like it’s suffocating all of us. Normally, it’s just me carrying the darkness, like a permanent cloud overhead, but tonight, it’s as if we’re all trapped under it. The cold air bites at my skin, cutting through the remnants of adrenaline and rage, but it doesn’t clear my head. Lily’s still in my arms, and I can’t bring myself to let her go. I tell myself it’s because I’m worried about her, but I know it’s more than that. I just don’t want to face what that “more” is. Not yet.
Inside the bus, the guys move like ghosts—hollow, distant. Marcus and Dylan strip off their clothes in silence, too tired or too ashamed to say anything. Their guilt gnaws at me. Maybe they feel bad for leaving Lily alone, for letting things spiral. Or maybe it’s just the weight of another night gone wrong. God knows, we’ve had enough of those lately.
Enzo lingers at the back, his head hanging like a condemned man waiting for the guillotine. I can’t look at him for more than a second before the anger in me starts to rise again, like a volcano ready to erupt. I don’t trust myself to speak to him, so I don’t. Instead, I focus on Lily, gently lowering her onto the sofa. Themark on her cheek stands out, a red reminder of how far we’ve fallen.
“Are you okay?” I ask, though my voice sounds far away, even to me.
“I’ll be fine,” she sighs, brushing it off like it’s nothing, but I can see she’s worn out. “It was an accident, Jax. We should all just go to bed.”
Her eyes flick past me, landing on the others, who are standing there like they don’t know what to do with themselves. Half-dressed, half-apologetic, they don’t even look like the guys I’ve been playing with for years.
“Get some rest,” I mutter to them, but I don’t really care what they do. I’m too tired of this—of everything. My anger’s just sitting there, waiting for a reason to explode, but I can’t deal with them right now.
Marcus and Dylan crawl into their bunks without a word. Enzo hovers by his, eyes filled with regret that’s almost too painful to look at. “Jax, Lily, I’m?—”
