Strike: Dax

by Heather C. Leigh

  Then, he speaks and my world fucking shatters.

  “Dax! Let go! You’re choking him!”

  Hawke and Gary are trying to pull my hands off of Adam, who I have shoved against the wall by his throat.

  “He fucking knew and didn’t tell me!”

  “What are you talking about?” Hawke yells, tugging uselessly on my left arm.

  The rage I feel is so overwhelming, so all encompassing, that I have no way to stop it. It’s as if time lapsed, skipping over parts like a bad stop motion film. One second Adam was telling me that Kate was sexually assaulted at uni, the next, I have him up on his toes with my hand wrapped around my neck and my mates trying to pull me off.

  “Dax…” Adam gasps, his face turning red.

  I’m about to let Adam go when electrified pain shoots down my body. I drop to the ground, my hands flying up to my neck to stop the source of the agony.

  “Don’t move,” someone says from behind where I’m writhing on my knees.

  “Gavin?” I should have known it was him. After the way he fucking dropped me when I broke up with Kate, I’ve been more cautious around him since that day. But not today. All I saw was red.

  I claw at Gavin’s hand, his long fingers deep in the hollow on one side of my collarbone.

  “Stay still,” he commands in a firm, very un-Gavin like tone.

  Still on fire from the crippling pain, I lower my hands in defeat.

  “I’m going to let you go but you have to promise you’ll calm down.” Gavin sounds like an entirely different person. Gone is the sweet, playful man I’m familiar with. Replaced by a cold, ruthless soldier.

  “I won’t.” My chest is heaving. Not from exertion, not from pain, but from the pure physical anguish of my heart breaking.

  Gavin releases his grip, slowly removing his hand. Without it, the pain stops instantly and I fold over onto my hands and knees. I can hear Adam in the background, apologizing over and over, “I’m sorry mate. So sorry. “

  I can’t listen. All of my attention is on the voices in my head screaming at how I’ve failed. Failed Kate. Failed the band. Failed myself.

  The control I so desperately seek is always just out of reach. Everything is falling apart around me and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it.

  I fist my hands in my hair and for the first time in my life, I willingly set my emotions free. I welcome them. I deserve every single painful lash of the mental whipping I torture myself with. I’d take more if I could. As it is, my suffering pales in comparison to what Kate’s been through.

  After I’ve let it all out and am crumpled, spent, on the floor, someone’s arms come around me, helping me stagger to my feet.

  “Let’s go home, yeah?”

  “Adam? I-I’m sorry mate.” I lean heavily on my best friend, letting him share the burden. Fuck, he already does share the burden. Add him to the long list of people whose life has been fucked up by Dax Davies.

  Kate

  “Oh my god, no you didn’t!” Myriah squeals from her perch on the sofa in the house she rents with three other girls from the footy team.

  “She totally did,” Bridget giggles. “Brittany made out with Bud after last week’s frat party!”

  I cringe at the mention of the frat, unwelcome memories assaulting me. None of them know what happened after that party, and none of them ever will.

  “Kate, you should have been there. It was a really good time.” Myriah throws her arm over my shoulder, hugging me to her side.

  “Right. Sorry. I had loads to do with classes and midterms and what not.” I squirm uncomfortably at my teammates’ scrutiny. Or maybe it’s my imagination and they’re not looking at me oddly at all. This is my first outing since… it happened, and what little self-confidence I had built up, evaporated like an oasis in the desert.

  “Well. Midterms are over, so you’ll have plenty of time to hang out with us now.” Brittany smiles at me from across the cozy living room. “And I did not make out with Bud,” she insists. Everyone starts chattering, refuting her claim. Brittany holds up a hand to silence them. “I got a piece of his hot ass!”

  The room erupts into giggles and girlish squeals, the sounds of friends having a laugh. I force a smile on my face, pretending to fit in when I know deep down I’ll never fit in with this crowd again. I won’t drink, I won’t date, and I sure as hell won’t ever set foot inside a frat house again.

  I get up and escape to the tiny kitchen, desperate to stop trembling before anyone can notice that I’m falling apart.

  “Hey.”

  I startle, knocking over a half-full glass of something pink .

  “Sorry Kate. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Myriah grabs a kitchen roll and starts to mop up the mess.

  “No worries,” I lie, crouching down to help.

  “What’s been going on with you?” Myriah asks as she tosses the soggy towels in the bin. “You’ve been avoiding us lately.”

  “Have I?” I concentrate on wiping up the now non-existent spill to avoid looking at my friend. “Just busy with classes, that’s all.”

  “Kate.”

  Noise and laughter from the other room breaks the uncomfortable silence. Myriah’s pause is long enough that I can’t get away with any more fake cleaning, the spill already gone. I stand up, leaning back on the counter to face my team captain.

  “I’ve just…” My eyes begin to fill with tears. “Crap. Sorry.” I wipe them away with the back of my hand. “I’m going through some stuff, okay?”

  Myriah’s concerned gaze meets mine, her face slightly blurry through my tears.

  “Is this about that guy you used to see? The famous one? Because of the new T.V. show?”

  My heart stutters, skipping a beat. “The what?”

  “The reality show. You know, Life With Lila?”

  “Life with—what? No. What are you talking about?” Lila? She can’t be talking about Lila Griffin, my psycho ex-flatmate. Can she?

  “The new show on the CelebCast channel. Life With Lila. It’s all about that rich socialite from around here, Lila Griffin.”

  At the mention of her name, my throat begins to close up.

  “I thought maybe you saw it and got upset. Because Dax Davies is with her now.”

  “No way!” I say louder than I intended.

  Myriah shrinks back, surprised by the vehemence of my words. She holds her hands up. “If you say so, Kate. Just, if you’re going through a rough time, call me. We can hang out.”

  “Yeah, I will,” I choke out.

  No. I won’t.

  As soon as it’s possible to escape without anyone noticing, I hurry back to my flat and boot up my laptop , trembling all over. While I wait for it to go through it’s painfully slow process, my mind begins to wander.

  Dax and Lila aren’t really together, are they? He said he hated her—despised her. I believed him when he told me that all of those photos of them together on tour were set up. But then… why did he break up with me? Was it to be with her? Was he with her while we were together?

  My head begins to hurt from the possibilities.

  The home screen finally pops up. I choose a search engine and type

  CelebCast Lila Griffin Reality Show

  The little spinning hourglass that appears has me sitting on the edge of my seat—literally—drumming my fingers on the corner of my desk. Then finally, the results are in.

  I click the first one. It links directly to CelebCast’s website where you can watch the episodes for free.

  Episode 1

  Only one episode has aired so far. Holding my breath, I hit play. The scenes begin to unfold, each one more horrific than the last.

  People actually watch this?

  That’s my first thought as cameras follow Lila as she shops, gets her nails done, and does more shopping. My second thought is to wish for a lightning bolt to come out of the sky and strike Lila dead because there it is.

  Lila and Dax. On the screen. Together.
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  The clips of them are short, never more than a few seconds here and there. Dax hardly says more than a word or two. Yet there they are, arm in arm in one scene, Lila cuddled up to his side in another where she honest to god blows Dax a kiss as she leaves his recording studio.

  The rush of emotions that flood my system are near paralyzing. Not because I’m sad. I should be, but I’m not. No. This time, I’m good and fucking pissed off.

  I slam the lid of the computer shut, fuming with anger. Fuck Dax Davies and fuck Lila Griffin! They can have each other. And fuck Adam Reynolds for not telling me about it while I was pouring my shattered, broken heart out to him.

  First thing tomorrow, I’m getting a new mobile number. Maybe Ellie was onto something when she disappeared. Those sodding Hackney arseholes just aren’t worth the pain.

  Dax

  I grab my leather jacket and the keys to my bike, a custom built Ducati Monster I bought with our first big paycheck. L.A. is no place for a car, but with the Ducati, I can slip through even the worst traffic jam in no time.

  “Oi! Where are you going?”

  My back stiffens at the sound of Adam’s voice. Using an extraordinary amount of control, I school my face and turn to face him. Then, I lose my composure.

  “Fuck, Adam. Your neck.”

  Adam winces when he gently touches the dark bruises that wrap around his throat. Bruises I put there yesterday.

  “No worries, yeah? I’ll be fine.” As usual, Adam brushes off his own health, giving me a weak smile. “But you, you look like you feel worse than me, mate.”

  “I’m just brilliant,” I say sarcastically, glaring at Adam.

  “You’re going to see her, aren’t you?”

  Adam looks… tired. Twenty-one years old and he looks like he’s been to hell and back. That still doesn’t give him the right to ask me questions.

  “Can we skip the interrogation? I don’t answer to you.” I grip the keys tightly in my fist, the jagged edges digging into my palm. I have to find Kate. I need to see with my own eyes that she’s okay.

  Adam drops down into one of the hotel chairs. Both of us have been living in hotels since Gavin and Hawke each moved out and got their own places. Neither of us could bring ourselves to put down permanent roots—most likely for the same reason.

  Adam brought me to his room last night to crash since I was in no shape to be alone.

  “Go. You should,” Adam says, nodding. “I didn’t fight hard enough to win Ellie back. At least you still have a chance.”

  My mate’s eyes go vacant, the way they do when he’s thinking about having a drink. I know that the minute I step out of the room, he’ll either clean out the minibar or head straight for the nearest bar for an all day - all night piss up.

  Sighing, I drop my keys on a table in the foyer and slide onto the chair next to Adam. I can’t leave him like this. Hell, I don’t even know if Kate would want to talk to me. For all I know, I’ll make everything worse.

  What’s best for Kate? I realize I don’t have a bloody clue. Instead of barreling ahead with my own actions—actions that are purely selfish—I make a suggestion.

  “Maybe…maybe we should use this.”

  Adam looks at me warily. “Use this? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know, our…” I swallow down the revulsion that’s trying to choke me. “Our emotions and feelings and shit. We’re both raw, yeah? Let’s use that to make a fucking brilliant song.”

  Adam’s solemn expression perks up then deflates again. “But we’re only in the studio for three more days. There isn’t time for a new song.”

  I reach down and pull a stack of Adam’s notebooks from under the coffee table, dropping them loudly on top. “I guess we better get started then.”

  Adam dials Ross to let him know we need a couple of days off before we get back into the studio. Ross is angry, but with the promise of a record-breaking song coming out of the deal, he relents.

  “Two days,” Adam says. “Bloody wanker only gave us two days.” He rubs his eyes and tosses his pencil on the dining room table. We have our notebooks open and spread out all over the surface, lyrics haphazardly written here and there.

  “Relax.” I can tell Adam is back to thinking about having a drink. His eyes keep flicking towards the bar. “We’ve got this. Haven’t we done this before? Fuck, we wrote a song in two hours once.”

  He laughs, his dark mood lightening just a bit. “Yeah. That was brilliant, wasn’t it?” Adam picks up his pencil, snagging the nearest notebook and dragging it in front of him. “Reckon I can write a sadder fucking song than you in less than an hour?” He cocks his head as one eyebrow lifts with the challenge.

  It’s not funny, writing about all the shit that has crushed your soul. Yet I can’t help but chuckle. It’s Adam’s way of dealing with stuff, making a joke or putting on an ill-timed smile. It’s what makes him so damn charming.

  “I’ll have the audience blubbering in no time, Reynolds. Challenge accepted.”

  Turns out, Adam’s a bloody genius. I mean, I already knew he was a genius with music—guitars and singing and what not. But he’s some sort of back room psychiatrist or something. Letting the blackness in my heart pour out of my hand and onto paper, releasing all of that negative energy and hate and helplessness… it felt fucking great.

  Twenty-one years worth of our hatred, frustration, love, and loss mash together to create some of the most brilliant songs we’ve ever written. When we finish two days later, we don’t have a record-breaking song for Sphere of Irony. We have an entire bloody album of award winning songs and a two lifetimes worth of suffering set free.

  CHAPTER 15

  Dax

  Two years later

  “Does she know you’re here?”

  I flinch from the sudden closeness of a voice. Someone sneaking up on me has caused me to splash some of my drink onto my jeans.

  “Bollocks.” I turn to see who spotted me, wiping my hand on my sweatshirt.

  Bloody hell, it’s Kate’s flatmate.

  “Abby. Didn’t think anyone would know who I was.”

  The oversized hoodie I have pulled up over a cap and sunglasses would fool most people. Not having shaved in two weeks and sporting a fairly decent beard, that’s the bit that lets me walk around L.A. without being recognized at all.

  “I didn’t recognize you. A little bird may have told me you’d be here.” She holds up her mobile, as if that’s supposed to answer my question.

  “Who—? Hawke? You still chat with Hawke?”

  I didn’t know she kept in touch with him, but it seems obvious now that I see Abby smirking. Hawke, that little shit. I’ll have to have a chat with Hawke. Something about learning to mind his own business and not tell people where I’ll be.

  “We haven’t been speaking, per se.” Abby blushes. “Only recently. Anyway,” she waves her hand dismissively. “Enough about that. Why are you here, Dax?”

  She’s quite beautiful, Kate’s friend. Reminds me a lot of Ellie. Blonde, blue eyes, sweet—but Abby doesn’t have the same naiveté that was so endearing on Ellie. I can’t explain it except to say Abby seems to realize the world isn’t all butterflies and unicorns. Something that Ellie, who used to think the best of everyone, has certainly found to be untrue by now.

  “I heard about her joining the team.” My eyes are focused on the football pitch. I chose a seat all the way at the top of the outdoor stadium. I didn’t want Kate to spot me and definitely didn’t want to be seen by any fans. Not after what happened the last time I went to one of Kate’s games.

  I shudder just thinking about it.

  Kate graduated university a year and a half ago. I know this because I went to the ceremony courtesy of the Dean. He let me sit in a private box at the school’s massive indoor sports pavilion where the ceremony took place without even asking a single question as to why I wanted to be there. Sometimes it pays to be famous. You can get away with things that other people can’t.


  “You just happened to hear about her joining the team?” Abby asks incredulously. “Do you normally follow professional women’s soccer?”

  Abby has a gleam in her eye that lets me know she’s torturing me on purpose. “I just,” I drop my head and rub a hand through my hair. “I wanted to make sure she was alright. You know, that she was doing okay. I’ve been checking up on her here and there ever since she was assaulted.”

  “What?”

  Abby’s sharp tone makes me whip my head away from the game to find her shocked expression.

  Okaaay. I’m confused by her reaction. “What do you mean, what? That bastard who sexually assaulted Kate two years ago. I’ve been looking out—”

  “Oh my god.” Abby goes pale, her mouth hanging open. “You know?”

  I suck in a sharp breath and a knot forms in my stomach.

  Oh shit.

  “Fuck. I’m not supposed to know.” Christ, I’m such a fucking prick. “I’m sorry. I… shit .”

  Abby glares at me, which loses some of its potency due to the fact that she’s still gaping like a fish. “Come to think of it, how did you find out? I sure as hell know she didn’t call you up to talk about it.”

  Fuck me, again! I’m really putting my foot in it today.

  The referee’s whistle catches my attention. I spot Kate running onto the pitch. Number eight. Same as it’s been since we lived in Hackney.

  “Dax.” Abby pesters. “Who told you about Kate? I mean, she didn’t even want to tell me. Oh my god, don’t tell me that Hawke knows. I’ll kill him if he does .”

  “No. Stop, Abby. Hawke doesn’t know anything. Shit. I’m not supposed to know. Kate called Adam, if you can believe that.” I huff in annoyance.

  It still stings that Kate turned to Adam instead of me. But hell, why would she turn to me? I’m the bloke who had just broken her heart.