So I Married a Rockstar

Chapter Forty-Three

Ch.43: A Ray of Sunshine

It was nearly midnight when Jude finally stumbled through the door. His curls were a mess, and the sleeve of his T-shirt was ripped, and for a horrible moment I was sure he'd got into a fight, but then he straightened and there were no bruises, no blood.

"Hey," I said softly. "You okay?"

Jude swayed and squinted at me.

I slid off my stool. He didn't move as I approached him, but his expression was like a wounded animal. "Come on," I said, taking his arm. "I think you need to sit down."

He let me lead him into the kitchen, but he leaned more heavily on me with every step. He smelled like he'd been swimming in whisky, and his pupils were blown wide – booze wasn't the only thing he'd taken.

He stumbled again, the edge of the counter catching his hip, and Elle hurried to help me catch him before he fell. Holding an arm each, we guided him onto one of the stools.

"Where have you been?" I asked, stroking his curls.

Jude stared blearily at me, then he suddenly caught my hand and clung to it, like he'd drown without me.

"Darrell's dead," he whispered.

"I know," I said, still stroking his hair. "I'm so sorry."

Elle patted my shoulder. "I'll leave you two alone. Unless you need me for anything?"

"I'll be okay, thanks," I said.

She gave me a quick hug, then headed for the door. When she was almost there, she paused and looked back. "Is it okay if I borrow a coat?"

"Sure. That grey one you gave me is on a hook by the door."

The tabloids would love seeing her back in that, but to hell with them.

"I'll bring it back," Elle promised.

I waited until the door closed behind her, before taking a seat next to Jude.

"We got anything to drink?" he mumbled, looking around the kitchen.

He started to get up, but I put a hand on his knee. "I think you've had enough."

Jude sat down heavily, blinking like a confused owl.

"Where have you been?" I asked.

I called and texted several times throughout the day, and he'd never responded. Thank God I'd had Elle to lean on.

"Why wouldn't he let me help him?" Jude said. His voice was ragged with grief.

All the bad blood that had formed between him and Darrell was gone now, leaving Jude stripped bare and raw, desperately hurting over the man who'd once been his friend, and who'd slipped through his fingers for good.

"Because some people don't want to be helped," I said.

"I should've tried harder," Jude mumbled.

I cupped his face with both hands and forced him to look at me. "You did try. You tried so hard to keep him afloat, but he was determined to drown, and that is not your fault."

Jude leaned his head on my right palm. "I thought we'd all play again together one day. Me and Darrell and Steve and Tom."

The names of his original bassist and drummer made something dawn on me at last. "That's why you won't have a permanent line-up, isn't it? You wanted to keep the spaces open for your old friends to come back."

Jude looked up at me with drugged, wounded eyes. "I thought that if I fixed Darrell, I could fix everything."

I didn't point out to him that Steve and Tom hadn't left because of Darrell's addiction. Maybe it was naïve, but part of Jude had really thought that he could put the original Angels & Demons band back together, and he'd clung to that dream for years. Darrell's death had ended that.