Strike (Sphere of Irony 2)

“This is crap! She wants it because she’s trying to ruin my life!” I roar, standing up to pace the back of the room.

Rule 2—Never let your emotions show.

Fuck that! I don’t know if I’ve ever been this angry. I know it’s because I’ve been rendered helpless and that pisses me off more than anything. Nothing I do will stop Lila and her campaign to stalk her way into my life. Even worse, this entire thing makes me look like a whinging crybaby, which makes me want to punch something until it bleeds.

“Calm down,” Ross says in an even tone, but his eyes betray him. Wide and fixed on my clenching hands, I can tell he’s nervous to be around me when I’m this murderously angry.

He should be afraid. Maybe a smack to his head will get my point across?

“Dax.” Rachel has turned in her seat to watch me as I struggle to rein in my emotions. “I’ll talk to her again, okay? I promise.”

My fists are balled so tight that I can feel the pressure in my knuckles.

“What about Kate?” I growl.

“What about her?” Ross asks.

I leap over to him, slamming my hands down on his desk with a loud bang, leaning over far enough that he scoots his chair back to get out of reach.

“They know who she is. She was fucking surrounded by paparazzi at her school, Ross! What are you going to do to get the attention off of her and keep her safe?” I bare my teeth, breathing heavily through my nose, knowing I probably look demented. Ross’s eyes get even wider, shocked that I’d direct my fury at him. He’s never seen me in the cage, doesn’t know what I’m capable of. Now, maybe he has an idea.

Once again, Rachel plays with fire by touching me while I’m a hair’s breadth from exploding. She pulls on my arm until I sit back down in my chair.

“Let’s come up with a plan, okay?” she says calmly. “I’ll call a team together and we’ll meet in the conference room.”

Mashing my lips together, I cross my arms over my chest to keep my fists under control. “Fine. You better not think I’ll be placated by some pathetic, hollow words and a pat on my back.”

She smiles. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Six and a half hours of ‘emergency meetings’ later and I’m so shattered my eyes are blurry. Who knew how much complete bullshit was involved in publicity? It’s all fucking smoke and mirrors with paparazzi set up to ‘catch’ you doing all sorts of things, from holding specific products to promote or being seen with specific people in specific places.

The only thing we could actually agree on was leaving Kate out of everything—refusing to acknowledge her, any of the rumors, or draw attention to her by association. No way am I going to let this mess affect her anymore than it has already.

While waiting for the lift, I pull out my mobile to call Kate only to realize it’s after midnight. Fuck. Kate’s big game is tomorrow. I can’t wake her up only to upset her with this load of bollocks. Frustrated, I shove the phone back in my pocket. Kate ducked out of my flat earlier without telling me, and when I tried to follow, Gavin said to give her time. I hadn’t meant to wait this long.

“Hey, you can catch a ride home with me,” Rachel says as she reaches the bank of lifts and stops next to me. “I have a driver outside.” There’s a quiet ding and a set of doors slide open.

“Thanks.” I let Rachel enter first before I follow, sagging against the wall with my eyes closed.

“It gets easier to ignore.”

I keep my eyes closed. “What gets easier to ignore, Rachel?”

“The lies, the stories, the made up crap… it’s meant to sell magazines or to sell you. It’s not personal. You’re a product, a commodity. Eventually you’ll stop caring.”

The lift stops on the ground floor. I don’t say anything until we’re settled in the back seat of a comfortable sedan, shrouded by darkness. My features are carefully blank, more out of habit than anything else since Rachel certainly can’t see my face.

“Rachel, let me be perfectly clear.” I let the calm, even, yet very threatening tone of my voice say more than my actual words. “Anything, and I mean bloody anything, that upsets Kate isn’t something I’ll ever stop caring about. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, Dax. I understand. Unfortunately, the media doesn’t.”

“Then they can fucking deal with me.”

I leave it at that, too tired to think anymore tonight.

Kate

“Kate!” I cringe at the sound of my name, worried that the media bloodhounds have found me again. Footsteps pound the ground behind me and as much as I don’t want to face them again, I can’t let them sneak up on me. I turn around and exhale in relief.