Page 10 of Electric Wounds
Enzo’s grin widens, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Why don’t you make me, Mr. Rehab? Gonna storm off and get high again, or do you think you can actually keep it together this time?”
I wince as the words register. The rest of the room goes deathly silent, the tension so thick it’s like the air is pressing in on all of us. Anger flares in Jax’s eyes, raw and untamed, but there’s something else there too—hurt. The words sting, and even I can see that. Enzo’s crossed a line.
Before Jax can react, Marcus steps between them, placing a firm hand on Jax’s chest. “That’s enough, both of you. This isn’t going to help anything.”
Dylan shifts awkwardly, shooting me a glance like he’s trying to lighten the mood. “So, Lily, what do you do in your spare time? When you’re not stuck babysitting us?”
I can feel the tension between Jax and Enzo still simmering, but I force a smile, trying to go along with Dylan’s distraction. “I read a lot, mostly. I’m a bit of a bookworm.”
Dylan grins, his teasing demeanor returning. “A bookworm, huh? Didn’t expect that. Thought maybe you’d be more into, Idon’t know, keeping journals of your rockstar conquests.” He winks at me, his usual playful charm back in full force.
I’m about to respond when Enzo pipes up again, leaning back in his chair, his gaze piercing. “Yeah, Lily. You writing down all your dirty thoughts about us? Maybe just about one of us?”
My stomach clenches at the insinuation, but I force myself to stay calm, shrugging off his comment. Enzo’s been prickly since the second I met him, but today he’s taking it to another level.
Marcus groans, clearly done with the tension. “Enzo, give it a rest, man.”
Jax, who’s been leaning against the counter, ignoring Enzo’s taunts, finally softens his gaze as he looks at me. “Reading seems like the perfect activity for the bus.” His voice is calm, a direct contrast to the storm brewing with Enzo. He reaches across the table, refilling my coffee cup. The brief brush of his hand against mine sends a spark through me, and I swallow hard, trying to ignore the effect he has on me.
I nod, unable to find the words to respond. The room feels stifling, and I know I need to get out of this tension-filled kitchen. I take a sip of my coffee, focusing on the warmth of the mug rather than the simmering atmosphere.
Marcus tries to shift the conversation, asking Dylan something about their setlist for tonight, and I tune them out, lost in my thoughts. I keep reminding myself that this attraction to Jax can’t go anywhere. He’s a rockstar—a player—and I’m here to do a job, not fall for him. I glance up at Jax again, though, and our eyes lock. There’s something in his gaze that makes my heart race, something deeper than just the usual charm he shows to everyone else.
But I can’t let myself get sucked into that.
I’m about to slip away when Enzo leans forward, his gaze still fixed on me and Jax. “You two need some alone time?” His sneer is unmistakable, and it makes the heat in my cheeks flare again.
Jax snaps his head toward him, his voice a low growl. “What’s your problem, Enzo? Jealous?”
Enzo scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Of you? Yeah, right.”
Without waiting for a response, Enzo pushes away from the table and strides back toward his bunk, ripping the curtain aside with enough force to make it clear just how pissed he is. The sound echoes through the bus, and I wince, the tension snapping in the aftermath of his exit. No one follows him. No one speaks.
Jax lets out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck. His anger is still simmering just beneath the surface, but he’s doing his best to push it down. Marcus strums a few chords on his guitar, messing with the tuners, pretending nothing happened.
Dylan plops down beside me with a sigh. “Ignore him, pretty girl. Enzo’s always been kind of an asshole.” He shoots me a grin, but his eyes are soft, like he’s trying to make sure I’m okay. “You good?”
I nod, cheeks flushing over his use of “pretty girl”. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Dylan smirks and throws his arm across the back of my chair, his fingers brushing my shoulder as he grabs the remote and flips on the TV. The bus starts to bounce beneath us as we pull onto an uneven road, and I lean back, forcing myself to relax even if it means my body rubbing against his. Dylan’s easy charm helps, and I try to focus on his banter rather than the tension that still lingers from the argument.
“Chill out, read your book or something,” Dylan says, pulling me closer as he teases. “We’ve got a long drive ahead.”
I smile despite myself, grabbing my phone to open my reading app. As the guys’ conversation fades into the background, I lean into the warmth of Dylan’s arm, feeling the bus hum beneath me as we move toward the next city, the next show. But no matter how much I try to lose myself in the pagesof my book, I can’t shake the lingering tension between Jax and Enzo, or the pull I feel toward Jax himself.
This tour is becoming complicated.
EIGHT
DARE OR DARE
Marcus
The bus hums beneath us as we roll down the highway toward the next venue. The tour is... going as expected, if you could call tension, fights, and a general air of frustration normal. After last night’s chaos and this morning’s brewing storm, everyone’s been keeping to themselves. The atmosphere is thick, like we’re all waiting for the next spark to set everything off.
Touring didn’t used to feel this heavy. Before Jax started to spiral, we were a unit—a band of brothers, even if the label put us together like puzzle pieces. We bonded fast. The music flowed easily, and we had each other’s backs, sharing the dream of stardom. Now? It feels like we’re running on fumes. Same songs. Same routines. The spark is gone.
I strum my guitar absently, the vibrations grounding me, humming under my breath. I miss when the music was everything—not just a way to keep the machine moving, but something that set us free.
