Strike (Sphere of Irony 2)

“Just, don’t forget about me.” The melancholy in her voice is evident.

“I’m not going to shag a bunch of groupies, angel. I’m not Adam.” She’s so insecure and she has no reason to be. She’s gorgeous, fun, fit, everything I could want. Everything I do want.

“Right, you never shag groupies, Dax.” Kate’s sarcastic tone can’t be missed. She’s alluding to my previous hookups. And she’s right. Before her, I played around a lot and didn’t care who it was.

“If we’re together I don’t shag anyone but you. You know that. There’s no comparison.”

“It’s—”

“There you are!” A piercing squeal interrupts our conversation. I look up and am horrified to see a familiar figure in the doorway.

“Lila?” I’m so shocked, I can’t help but say her name.

“Lila? Lila’s there with you?” Kate asks, sounding alarmed.

I can’t respond to Kate, I’m too bloody surprised to see her former flatmate flinging herself at me, landing solidly in my lap.

“What the fuck, Lila?” I struggle to move her off as she winds her arms around my neck, locking on tight.

“Dax! What the hell is going on?” Kate is shouting through the phone while I remove Lila and dump he

r on the sofa.

“Dax, honey, stop pretending to be surprised to see me here,” Lila says, plastering her body against me again. Angrier than I’ve been in a while, I shove her back with complete disregard to the fact that she’s a girl. She stumbles, nearly going arse over tit on her bloody high heels.

“Stay the fuck away from me! You’re mental!” I hiss, taking a step back. “Hello? Kate?” There’s no response from my mobile. When I look at the screen, I see that the call has been disconnected.

Putting my back to Lila, I grind my teeth, warring between two different rules at the same time.

Rule 2—Never let your emotions show.

Rule 3—Women who act like slags can be treated like slags.

I’ll hit her if I don’t get it under control and I can’t have that. She’s a cow, but she is a girl. Plus, she’d have me tossed in jail. Rule 2 wins. Breathing slowly, I put my mobile in my pocket, uncurling my fists. Turning slowly, I face the girl who has caused me more problems than I can count.

“Why. Are. You. Here.” I keep my cold, hard mask up, determined not to let her see how much she affects me.

“Oh Daxey, my daddy is the producer for your latest album. Didn’t you know that? I asked if I could have a job on this tour and he made me the assistant to the tour publicist. Isn’t that great?”

Daxey? Job on tour? Publicist? Isn’t she in school?

Lila is smiling, but her eyes aren’t. They’re cruel, cunning, and full of secrets. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

I shove past her before I do something stupid. Storming into the dressing room, I spot Ross in the corner chatting with who-the-fuck-knows and who-the-fuck-cares.

“Ross, I need to have a chat.”

He looks up and does a double take when he sees me. Shit. I must not be hiding my anger very well. I’m out of practice, used to being free to feel however I want around Kate and not care that she knows.

“Sound check is in thirty minutes,” he says to the others after dismissing the two blokes. “Let’s go to the other room.” Ross directs me towards a door to the right. Once it’s closed behind us, he whirls around, concern on his face. “What’s going on? You look like you’re ready to kill someone.”

“I might just do that,” I growl, cursing under my breath as I once again try to manage my building anger. “Fuck, Ross. Why didn’t you tell us that Lila was going to be on tour with us?”

Ross jerks back in surprise. “Lila? Who’s Lila?” He is genuinely baffled.

“You didn’t know?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he admits.