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“Gavin and Hawke are leaving on Saturday, and we can get our tickets and join them after the term is over,” Dax says. “It’s going to be so cool. Playing gigs in bars in L.A. All those famous places we’ve read about.”
“Exactly!” I’m unable to contain my enthusiasm. “If Hawke’s uncle is even half as good as the two of them say he is, we’ll be signed in no time.”
It takes me a minute to unlock the door to my flat, but I finally get it open. When I walk inside, I stop short before I can take more than a few steps into the room. Dax slams into the back of me, cursing at my sudden halt.
“What the hell? Why did you…?” He cuts his sentence short when he sees exactly why I stopped short.
“Ahhhh, my piece of shit son is finally home!” booms the tall, lean man who stands a few meters opposite us.
An icy fist clenches my stomach and twists at the sight, sending a jolt of fear down my spine. “What are you doing here?” I hope the panic that I feel isn’t too obvious in my voice.
An amused look crosses the unexpected visitor’s face, his familiar hazel eyes trapping me like a mouse being toyed with by a cat. “Is that any way to greet your dad?”
My fists clench in anger at my sides. “You aren’t my dad. Never have been, never will be.”
Dax’s large hand grips my shoulder, holding me in place. Though I doubt he knows I’d rather turn back than leap forward and fight, I let him think he’s keeping me from attacking my dad. “Don’t let him get to you. It’s not worth it,” he whispers in my ear.
The man who gave me half of my DNA steps closer to us, my body tensing up at his proximity.
“Still hanging around with lowlife chavs, I see.” His eyes flick over to Dax then back to me.
Dax grips my shoulder even harder, his thick fingers digging into my flesh. Unlike me, Dax would probably love to have a go at my dad. Fighting’s in his blood. “Well, I guess that’s something I inherited from you,” I throw back at him.
My dad smirks. “Oh, I think you’re more like me than you’ll admit. Word’s out that you’re working for Danny again.”
“I’m not working for Danny,” I hiss, the anger building deep inside me, begging to be let out. “I worked for Danny, it’s not something I plan on doing again.” My eyes dart around the small room. “Where’s Mum?” I don’t know why I ask, I can’t say I care where she is most days.
He takes another step forward, now close enough for me to smell the whiskey that perpetually surrounds him, a smell that brings back memories of pain and terror. “I heard that you’re not working for Danny anymore because you’re too much of a nancy to prevent getting jumped. Maybe I didn’t do a good enough job teaching your sorry arse how to fight.” He takes another step. “And who cares where your pathetic whore of a mother is? She’s probably out selling herself for a hit.” His spiteful laugh echoes throughout the flat.
I grit my teeth together, simultaneously afraid of the man who beat me more times than I can count, and furious at his assumption that I should have been able to fight off three guys with knives. I hate violence, I loathe it. The fight with Callum made me sick to my stomach and gave me nightmares for weeks. All because I’m afraid of becoming exactly who I hate the most, my dad.
“I don’t fight… I’m not you. I’ll never be like you!” I shout, biting the inside of my cheek to focus on the blood in my mouth instead of raining fists down on this sorry excuse for a human.
My words cause something dark to spark in my father’s eyes. Something I’ve seen time and time again. I stiffen up, ready for the blows that always follow that look.
My dad lunges for me, and I’m prepared to take a punch to the jaw as I’ve done so many times before. Instead of the pain of a fist, I’m shoved to the ground roughly, so caught off guard that I can’t keep my balance. I scramble to get back on my feet, not wanting to be subjected to the brutal kicks to my ribs that he loves to inflict when I’m on the ground. I get up just in time to see Dax land several expert jabs to my dad’s body, and a final blow to his temple, sending him down… hard.
Dax shakes out his hands and turns to face me. “Let’s get your stuff and get out of here. He’s not going to be happy when he wakes.” His voice is calm and even, as if he didn’t just lay someone out.
My best mate cracks his neck and flexes his enormous biceps, not having broken a sweat or showing any signs that he just knocked my dad out cold. Then again, unlike me, Dax does fight. A lot. And his conscious is somewhat less developed than most people. Frankly, he just doesn’t give a shit.
I nod and head for my room, stuffing as much as I can into two big, ratty duffels. I grab my notebook and guitar and meet Dax at the door. Taking one last look back at the sad, dilapidated flat, my pathetic father splayed out on the dirty floor, I close the door.
I’m never going back to that life. I’m free.
“So you’ll crash here with me, and we’ll move up our plan and fly to the U.S. a few weeks early to meet Gavin and Hawke.” Dax paces his tiny room in a flat across town from mine trying to figure out our next move. He shares it with his oldest brother so there’s hardly space to turn around, let alone pace. I sit on one of the beds to stay out of his way.
“Dax, keep your hair on, yeah?” I watch my best mate as he realizes the consequences of knocking out my dad. “Let’s not go
completely mental yet. I don’t think your parents will appreciate me staying here that long.”
I’m trying my best to calm Dax down, but I know as well as he does that he’s right. My dad isn’t going to forget what happened. The only things we have on our side are Dax, his three huge brothers, and the fact that we’re leaving the U.K. very soon.
Dax scowls at me, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “Don’t be ridiculous, my parents love you.” He pauses, scrubbing a large hand over the back of his neck. “Do you think your dad will tell Danny?”
“You know Danny doesn’t give a crap about our dad. Unless we nicked Danny’s drugs or money he’s not going to do shit about anything,” I remind Dax.
“Alright then. I have a fight tonight after practice, you coming? You can help out round the club if you want to make yourself feel better about staying here.” He finally stops his twitching to see what I’ll say.
