The Complete Rockstar Series

by Heather C. Leigh

It’s better that way, I’m sure. But coming to grips with it? Well, that just plain sucks.

  44

  Dax

  “Dad! I’ll be ready for the fight. I’m always ready. Stop bleedin’ jumping on me!”

  I stuff my head under my pillow, not wanting to hear my brother argue with my dad.

  “Yer not ready. Ya look like ya were whoring about last night. Forget the rules, Liam?”

  Fuck me. I let out a groan. The thin pillow can’t block out the shouting. Liam has a match tonight and I swear the old bastard is more obsessed with his rules than ever. Right now, he’s pushing his favorite rule on Liam, the one we hate the most.

  Rule 3—No fucking, shagging, wanking, sucking, or getting off for seven days leading up to a fight.

  Naturally, with four randy sons sporting constant hard-ons in need of relief, dad has had a difficult time drilling that particular rule into our heads. Hell, Ethan told me that dad had expected him to be completely celibate once he was old enough to fight at the club. When that plan failed miserably, with Ethan running around behind the old man’s back shagging anything that moved, dad conceded to no sex for one full week before a fight. He insists it keeps the primal drive to win heightened. There’s something to it, especially his rewards. I just happen to think it’s cocked up when your dad is plotting your next suck and shag.

  Sighing, I glance over and notice Ethan’s small single bed is empty in our cramped room. My eyes find the digital clock on our shared nightstand. Crap. It’s already noon. After last night’s gig, I let some tart suck me off in the loo. That meant I didn’t get home until late. Adam, well, Adam went straight home, too obsessed over this Ellie girl from school to chat up anyone at the DK. After he noticed her in the audience, he went looking for her. When he couldn’t find Ellie anywhere, he was done for the night.

  “Dax! Get yer arse out here ya skiver! Your lie-in is over, son!”

  I punch my pillow miserably. My day has officially begun.

  * * *

  “You need help?”

  My brother Liam ignores me, choosing to stretch his own muscles instead of answer as he readies for his fight.

  “Fine,” I snap, using Liam as an outlet for my irritation. “I don’t give a rat’s arse if you’re tight and pull every muscle in your body!”

  Liam doesn’t fight often. He’s not weak by any means. He honestly just doesn’t care enough to win, which makes our dad mental. The intense, burning fountain of rage and testosterone that the rest of us feel before a match doesn’t seem to extend to this particular Davies. Somehow, Liam maintains an even, Zen-like attitude no matter how much our dad berates him or how hard he works him. He doesn’t have to hide his emotions like the rest of us do.

  “Will you shut yer hole, Dax?” Shaun’s huge form barges into the tiny locker room, all puffed up and set to defend his less aggressive twin brother.

  “Fuck off,” I say lightly. Shaun glares at me, but his lips twitch just enough that I know he’s amused not angry. Thank god, because fighting Shaun is a nightmare. He’s ruthless.

  Shaun turns his attention to Liam. People say they can’t tell them apart, being identical twins and all, but for me it’s easy. Maybe it’s the way Liam’s eyes shine with compassion and warmth while Shaun’s are hard and cold. Hell, I’m Shaun’s little brother and the teeny tiny smirk he just gave me is about as much of a laugh as I’ve ever seen on his face. Polar fucking opposites, those two.

  They put their heads together, nodding and whispering and doing that strange twin thing they have with each other. Now I feel like an intruder. I have to get out of here. “I’ll be out by the cage,” I growl as I leave the suddenly stifling room.

  Liam and Shaun have each other. Ethan is never around anymore and with him being the oldest, I was always just the annoying kid brother. Dad only cares about the club and mum is too busy taking care of and feeding five huge, hungry men to worry about me.

  I live in a crowded fucking flat with five other people and I feel completely alone. Really, the only attention I get is when I’m fighting or when I get my reward. Right now, I live for those fucking rewards. It’s the only human contact I get that doesn’t involve punching, and the only time in my life when I have some sort of semblance of control.

  After Liam’s fight, I trudge down the dark streets towards my flat. By the time I’m nearly home, I feel guilty. I probably should have gone out to celebrate Liam’s win with the rest of my family. This particular match was such a big deal even my mum went with them to the local pub.

  Rule 1—Family first.

  Whatever. So I broke a rule. I’m the youngest, the defiant one, the one they always expect will go left when they say go right. I’m sure no one thought I’d turn up anyway. I told them I’d meet them out at the pub and came home instead. Any punishment dad comes up with won’t break me. I’m used to his methods by now. Yet those sodding rules still gnaw at me like Catholic guilt, popping into my thoughts every time I do something that doesn’t follow their restrictive instructions.

  As I approach my crumbling old building, I see the dark shadow of a person sitting near the graffiti-covered entrance. No matter how good I am with my fists—and I’m good—I’m still wary of getting into a street fight with a bloke on the piss or a nutter who went off his meds. When I get close I have my hands clenched and ready for whatever comes next.

  A low moan breaks the silence and the figure turns his head towards the dim streetlight.

  “Adam?”

  Fuck! I sprint the remaining distance, dropping to the cold ground next to my best friend. My heart seems to clog up my throat, making it difficult to breathe. Something is very wrong.

  “What happened? Are you hurt?”

  Adam wheezes, wincing from the effort, but doesn’t answer. Gravel digs into my knees as I check him for injuries, but I ignore the sharp pain. All I can see are a few scrapes on his face, some worse than others. It’s not nearly enough to have him looking this pale or to render him practically unconscious.

  “Adam!” I lightly shake his shoulders.

  Still no answer. Adam’s hazel eyes are glassy, unfocused. Panicking, I yank up his thin jumper, exposing his undershirt to the cold air. My mouth dries up and I let out a gasp, bending over in pain as if I were punched in the gut.

  Holy fuck!

  It’s dark out, so the shiny, dripping wetness on his white shirt looks black. But it’s not. It’s blood. Loads of it. So much so that I can smell the metallic tang in the crisp January air.

  “Adam! I need to get you to hospital.”

  I reach down to help him up, shoving one arm under his arms from the back and the other in front. I’m easily able to hoist him to his feet. Miraculously, he doesn’t collapse even though I’m supporting most of his weight.

  Adam whispers in my ear, so soft it’s just a faint rasp.

  “Come again?”

  I can hardly hear him, but his words are clear. “No. Hospital. Danny.”

  His own brother? Bastard!

  I tense up, squeezing with my arms, which causes Adam to hiss in pain. “Danny did this?”

  Adam can’t respond. He passes out, his head dropping forward and his body becoming slack in my arms. Lucky for me Adam is fairly thin and I’m fit, or else I wouldn’t be able to manage. It takes almost half an hour, but I get him back to his flat and into his bed. I can’t keep him at my place, my parents would insist on going to A&E. They’ve known Adam forever and care about him as if he were another Davies.

  By the time I get him home, get to the all-night chemist to retrieve some supplies to clean his wound, and get back to Adam’s flat, we’re both drenched with sweat —me from exertion, Adam from shock.

  Shaking, I sit on the edge of Adam’s bed—just a dingy mattress on the floor—and hold my head in my hands. My best mate was almost killed tonight. Something has got to change.

  Kate

  I watch ruefully as Dax and Ellie walk away from school together, threading my fingers thr
ough the end of my braid. Never in my life did I think I would hate football, but today I do. I’m stuck at practice, in the freezing cold, while Ellie gets escorted round town by the boy I want more than anything in the world.

  “Oi. What’s that about?”

  I turn to see Tasha staring at Dax and Ellie, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

  Shrugging, I play it off. “Don’t know. He’s been walking her to Adam’s flat every day. She said it has something to do with Adam being out of school. He takes her to visit.”

  “Adam? Adam Reynolds?”

  “Yeah.”

  Tasha gives me an incredulous look as if she doesn’t believe their story. That it’s a cover for some sordid affair between Dax and my best mate.

  “Ellie’s not with Dax, Tash.”

  “Hmph. What does a god like Dax Davies see in a boring little mouse like Ellie?”

  I startle, not realizing Willa had joined us on the edge of the pitch. Both Tasha’s mouth and mine fall open at Willa’s rudeness.

  She takes note of our shocked expressions and sneers, curling her lip up in disgust. “Well, it’s true. Didn’t you see all the girls at the DK waiting to get a piece of him? They were all way better looking than her,” Willa sniffs, tossing her hair over one shoulder.

  Annoyed, I defend my friend. “How can you say that? Ellie’s flat out gorgeous, Willa.” God, I could slap that condescending look off of her face.

  Jealous cow.

  “Is she? Then how come it was me sucking him off after the concert and not her?” She arches one of those perfectly groomed eyebrows of hers, shoving her superiority in my face.

  My heart crumples in on itself and nosedives right into my hollow stomach. “You… you…” I can’t manage to finish my sentence. All at once I’m feeling humiliated, jealous, and seething with anger. Despite the cold, my face is burning up. My gaze flicks over to Tasha, catching the look of sympathy she’s giving me. It’s clear she already knew about Willa and Dax.

  Willa smirks as I take off across the pitch towards the street. Screw practice. I can’t look at that bitch without wanting to kick her teeth in, and I certainly don’t want anyone to see me break down and cry, which is exactly what happens the minute I get out of sight.

  My throat is tight and my tongue feels thick as I run in my footy boots. Past broken down cars, past abandoned buildings, past the shoddy cornershop where filthy dossers try to scam you out of your money—not that anyone round here has any.

  I hate bloody Hackney! Living in London’s worst, most crime-ridden neighborhood can suck the life out of you if you let it. Mine’s not been sucked out. It’s been hoovered out by Dax Davies and his man-whore ways.

  By the time I reach my dingy flat, my lungs are burning and tears cover my freezing cheeks. I might be hurt, but I’m also determined. I head straight for a pile of scholarship applications with a singular purpose.

  To get the hell out of Hackney so I can forget all about Dax Davies.

  * * *

  “What?”

  I literally can’t believe what I’m hearing. When I look into Ellie’s large blue eyes, I know she’s not lying

  “Adam was stabbed, Kate.” She sniffs and tries to hold back tears. How did I not notice that my best friend was falling apart? Her eyes are swollen and red-rimmed. There are dark circles beneath them telling me she hasn’t been sleeping well. Her nails are chewed down to stubs, and frankly, she just looks exhausted.

  “How? I mean why? Hell—I have no idea what to say, El.”

  I feel like a total failure as a friend. After Willa enlightened me to Dax’s extracurricular activities, I had to know if Ellie was another notch on his headboard. Apparently, I love to torture myself. What she confesses instead literally renders me speechless.

  “I still don’t understand. What does Adam being stabbed have to do with Dax walking you home every day?”

  Ellie sighs, flopping back on my bed. Our families live in the same crappy council flats, so we tend to see each other a lot, usually to walk to school, but sometimes for a chat. When I invited her over to gently finagle some information out of her about her after school walks with Dax, I had no idea she was going to drop a bomb of this magnitude in my lap. Make that two bombs—Adam was stabbed and Ellie was attacked.

  “It’s a long story, Kate.” Ellie’s eyes glisten with moisture and her lip begins to quiver. My best friend is falling to pieces and all I can think about is my selfish desire to get with Dax.

  Some friend I am.

  I lay back on the bed next to El, taking her trembling hand in mine. “I’m here to listen, El. Tell me everything.”

  I am floored, literally gob smacked by Ellie’s story. Right when the school term started, Callum Murray attacked her in a vacant lot and the only reason she wasn’t defiled was because Adam and Dax intervened at the last second. They beat the crap out of Callum and his mate Ryan, which explains why Callum is holding a grudge against Ellie. And why Callum and Ryan looked so banged up a few weeks ago.

  To keep Ellie safe from Callum, Adam made an arrangement with his drug-dealing brother Danny. Everyone at school knows about Danny and his criminal activities. Heck, half the kids buy from him. In exchange, Adam had to run Danny’s drugs for him. That’s when Adam was jumped, Danny’s drugs and money nicked, and Adam left for dead.

  Dax has taken Adam’s place in walking Ellie home every day so Callum won’t try to get her again when no one is looking. I always knew that Callum Murray was a complete prick. I’m glad Adam and Dax hurt him. Now I feel about two feet tall for thinking Ellie was hooking up with Dax. Clearly, she loves Adam. The expression on her face can only be described as heartbroken.

  “I know you fancy Dax, Kate.”

  I blink rapidly, opening and closing my mouth like a fish at the abrupt change in topic to focus on my embarrassing lack of a love life. Ellie’s eyes bore into mine, open and honest. There’s no use denying it. Not to my best mate. Especially not after she opened up to me like she did.

  I shrink back, the weight of everything pressing down on my body. “Yeah. Since we were kids.”

  Ellie scoots to lie on her side, propping her head up on one hand. “Why haven’t you ever talked to him?”

  I snort. “Right. Chat up Dax Davies. Okay, El.” The familiar cracks in the ceiling distract me enough to keep the tears at bay.

  Her brows pull together as she stares at me. “I know he acts like he has no soul,” she giggles, “but honestly, he’s a nice bloke. Give me a good reason why you won’t talk to him?”

  “Would you walk up to Adam and chat him up?”

  Her cheeks redden and her gaze drops to my faded quilt. “I did. On the first day of school. He yelled at me for looking at his sketchbook. It was humiliating.”

  I can’t help it. The laughter bubbles out uncontrollably. Soon, Ellie joins in and it feels great to be able to have some tiny bit of joy in our lives when it seems everything around us seems to be crumbling to dust.

  Dax

  “So we’re going to have a practice this Saturday morning at the DK. That way we can see how we sound in the pub for the gig that night.”

  I nod at Adam as he goes on and on about the band. This is only his second week back at school after missing a week recuperating from being stabbed. He looks better, not great, but functional. He can’t fool me with his happy act. I’ve known him too long, plus, I’m an expert at hiding pain, having been busted up in the cage many, many times. I know all the signs. Adam is in agony, but he’s a passionate bastard, unwilling to let anything keep him from his music—or from Ellie. And since she’s at school, that’s where he wants to be.

  “Right. Gavin and Hawke seem to fit in okay.”

  Adam frowns when I mention the two Americans that have joined up to complete our band, Gavin Walker a blonde bloke who looks more like a posh model than a bass player, and Hawke Evans, a tattooed, pierced drummer with a geek chic fetish.

  I’m about to tell Adam for the millionth time that
he doesn’t have to worry about Gavin or Hawke making a move on Ellie because I already threatened them both within an inch of their lives, when a warm, curvy body presses up against my back, long fingers reaching out to wrap tightly around my arm.

  “Dax, when are you going to let me have another go at you, you sexy thing?”

  I don’t bother to turn around in the crowded school hallway. It doesn’t matter who’s whispering in my ear because the answer I give would be exactly the same.

  “Never, so bugger off.” I shake whoever’s hand it is off of my arm and stay silent until the girl takes the hint and leaves.

  A glance at Adam shows him covering his mouth, trying not to laugh. Fuck him. Maybe he likes to stay friends with his shags, but not me. They serve a purpose—one purpose—to get me off during my dad-sanctioned weeks. After that, I don’t need them for anything else.

  Rule 4—Women who act like slags can be treated like slags.

  That’s what Adam doesn’t understand. Any girl willing to disrespect herself by getting to her knees the second you meet isn’t worth the effort it takes to be nice. In trying so hard to not be a bastard like his father, Adam’s kindness has the potential to be easily taken advantage of. If nothing else, my dad was right to teach me that lesson.

  “You’re such a cold bastard, Dax.”

  “I know. You could learn a thing or two.”

  “No thanks,” he says dryly.

  “Adam!”

  I follow Adam’s gaze to see Ellie hurrying towards us, towing a friend by the hand. Ellie immediately latches on to Adam, prattling on about something or other. Tuning out the happy couple, I take a moment to check out Ellie’s friend, Kate. I’ve seen her around, mostly with Ellie, but she’s in my maths class as well. In fact, now that I think about it, we’ve been in school together a long time.

  The fact that I didn’t remember her until now makes me frown, which in turn, makes Kate’s eyes go wide with fear. The girl is fiddling with her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail. She’s clearly uncomfortable around me, so, being the heartless prick that I am, I decide to make it worse.