Strike (Sphere of Irony 2)
Abby reads the caption out loud. “Lila Griffin, gorgeous socialite daughter of Sebastian Griffin, Hollywood mogul and producer for Sphere of Irony’s first album, is seen out on the town with Dax Davies, lead guitarist for the band. The couple has been spotted together on various stops along the band’s U.S. tour with U2, which kicked off last month in New York City.”
One photo. Two sentences. That’s how little it took to rip away every shred of confidence I had built over the last five months with Dax.
CHAPTER 10
Dax
“I’m not kidding, Liam. There’s a fucking international cunt circus following around us all the time now.”
My brother’s chuckle comes through the phone, reminding me of home and family. I never thought I’d miss them, but I do—even Shaun, the mean bastard.
“Gotta be fun though, touring with such a popular band. The crowds must be amazing!”
“It is amazing, Liam. It’s unreal. Like every night is the biggest fight of your life, on a stage in front of the entire world. It’s such a fucking rush.” I catch myself, holding back on the gushing. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to prattle on.”
“Dax, I’m not dad. You can be excited, yeah? Don’t hide your feelings. It’s not healthy. The old goat was wrong about a lot of stuff.”
I sigh, knowing Liam is right. “I know. It’s just hard to change, you know? I—fuck, I hate talking about this shit.” Cringing, I rub a hand over my scruffy chin. Randomly, I think about how I’ll have to shave before tonight’s show. “All those rules he forced on us, my mind and body react automatically. I can’t help it.”
“You mean shutting down into an emotionally stunted ape? Or do you mean getting a stiffy whenever you’re about to do something huge? Like going on stage, maybe?”
My mouth hangs open. “How did you know? Do you—?”
“No. Not me. Shaun. It happens to him all the time. Although, he really is an emotionally stunted ape,” Liam jokes.
A knock on my hotel room door interrupts our laughing. “Look, I gotta go.”
“Anytime, Dax.”
“Give my love to mum. Cheers.”
I open the door to a, thankfully, sober Adam. He pushes past me and flops down on my sofa.
“Why don’t you just make yourself at home?” I quip.
“Heard from Kate?”
“Huh?” I narrow my eyes. “Why are you asking about Kate?”
When Adam’s face turns bright red, I know I’m not going to like the answer.
“Adam—” I say threateningly.
“Here mate. Don’t get all puffed up. We know it’s bollocks. But, ummmm—”
He tosses me a magazine, which I snatch mid-air. “What’s this?” I growl, not sure I like whatever is going on here.
“Fuck, just remember mate… like I said, it’s complete crap.”
I open the magazine to where it’s been folded back and skim the page. What. The. Fuck.
My first instinct is to punch the hell out of something… anything, whatever will make the sharp pain in my chest go away. Adam must notice, because he jumps up from his seat and guides me to a chair, pushing me back into it.
“Don’t fuck up your hand, Dax. Not over this. It’s not worth it.”
“Not worth it?” I snarl, staring up at him. “Kate’s gonna—” I suck in a sharp breath, “She’s gonna see this and think. Oh no. Fuck no. That bitch isn’t doing this to me again. Bloody Lila Griffin!”
Leaping to my feet, I shove him out of the way and head for the door.