Lily nods and sinks deeper into Dylan’s embrace, allowing him to steer her outside the bus.
We pile into the van, the engine roaring to life as we tear through the city streets. Buildings blur past, lightsstreaking like smudges of color, but I can barely see them. All I can think about is Jax—what state he’s in, what we’re about to find. Fear coils in my gut, heavy and sickening.
The longer we drive, the more I wish one of us had tried harder to convince Lily to stay behind. I glance over at her, tucked into Dylan’s side, her eyes fixed on the window as the scenery blurs past. Even without asking, I already know—no matter what we said, she wouldn’t have stayed. anyway.
We finally arrive at the location Dylan was told by his source and climb out of the van together. Standing side by side at the mouth of an alley, we hesitate. It looms ahead of us--dark and foreboding. A single streetlamp flickers at the far end, barely illuminating the narrow, trash-strewn passage. The air reeks of garbage and rot, and the sounds of sirens and distant shouting echo around us.
Lily should have stayed on the bus.
Dylan leads the way, his phone flashlight slicing through the dark. Every step feels heavier, the walls closing in, the silence suffocating. I’m worried this is another dead end. The final dead end. But I’m also equally as worried about what we’ll find if it isn’t.
“There,” Marcus whispers, his voice tight as he points ahead.
I follow his gaze and see a shadow slumped against the wall. My heart slams against my ribs as we get closer.
It’s Jax.
He’s barely recognizable—dark hair plastered to his face, skin gaunt and pale, clothes filthy and hanging off his frame. A girl kneels beside him, eyes wide with fear as she spots us.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I snap, my voice cold andhard. The girl flinches and scrambles to her feet, stumbling as she disappears into the darkness. I resist the urge to scoff. The junkies Jax surrounds himself with are always the same—eager to cling to a rockstar with a steady supply, but the first to vanish when trouble shows up.
“Jax?” Lily’s voice is barely above a whisper as she drops to her knees beside him. Her hand trembles as she touches his cheek. “Jax, we’re here. We’re taking you home.”
His head lifts slightly, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “Lily?” he croaks, the sound of his voice so feeble it guts me.
This took days. He was able to do this much damage in days. Yet, I already know it will be weeks, maybe even months, before he’ll be able to undo it.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Lily chokes out, silent tears streaming down her face. “We’ve got you. We’re getting you out of here.”
I clench my fists, rage and helplessness tangling inside me. Seeing Jax like this—broken, hollow—is almost too much. “Let’s get him to the van,” I say, my voice rough with the effort to keep it together.
Marcus and I hoist him up, his body limp, barely responding. He feels too light, too fragile, like he might break in our arms. The stench of stale sweat and the rubbish from the alley clings to him, and every step I take feels like it takes an eternity.
We load him into the van, Dylan immediately climbing into the back beside him.
“We need to call Harris,” Lily says, her voice cracking as she fumbles with her phone. Her hands shake so badly she almost drops it. She finally finds the coordinationto dial, pressing the phone to her ear. “Harris, it’s Lily. We found Jax, but he’s in bad shape. We’re two states away from the next show, and there’s no way he can perform.”
Harris’s voice comes through loud and sharp, even from where I’m standing, half a foot away. “Good work.” He pauses, audibly inhaling before continuing, “You need to get to the airfield. I hired a private plane, and it’s on standby to take you to the next show. Once we hang up, I’ll call the pilot.”
Lily’s face pales, disbelief and anger flashing in her eyes. “What about Jax? He’s not okay, Harris. What are we supposed to do?”
“Let him use again on the plane,” Harris replies coldly, like it’s the simplest solution. “I have a plan for when you land.”
Lily freezes, horror twisting her expression. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” Harris snaps. “Get to the airfield. Time is running out.”
The call ends, leaving the air thick with tension. Lily stares at the phone, her shoulders shaking. I reach out, squeezing her hand. “We’ll figure this out,” I promise, though the words feel empty. “We’ll get through this.”
My own anger simmers beneath the surface, but I push it down as we climb into the van. I grip Lily’s hand tightly—partly to comfort her, but mostly to steady myself.
No one speaks as we drive to the airfield. The van is filled with the sound of Jax’s shallow, uneven breaths. Every bump in the road makes him flinch and groan, and my stomach churns. He looks so frail, like he might disappear altogether. This is worse than last time. Jax looks likehe’s hanging on by a thread, and the urge to punch something burns through me.
The plane is waiting when we arrive, engines humming, its lights casting an eerie glow across the tarmac. We carry Jax out of the van, up the steps, and into the cabin. The luxury of the jet—leather seats, polished wood—feels obscene in the face of what’s happening.
“What did Harris say?” Marcus asks, his voice low.
Lily stares at Jax, her face pale. “He said to let him use again.”
