Certain that Dax would change his tune given some time she went down the stairs and out of the front door onto the sidewalk. She knew where to find him and she wouldn’t forget this place in a hurry. For now she would leave the state, and maintain a low profile, because she didn’t want to be drawn back into the Starks’ world unexpectedly.
Not chancing a glance upward, she slunk into the first alleyway she came to in order to get out of sight of the apartment, and its balcony, as quickly as possible. When she was safe and out of view, Ivy stopped and glanced down at the twenty dollar bill still in her hand. Sliding it into her other palm she looked at what had been nestled under it, the key to Dax’s storage unit, and possibly the key to understanding how to unlock the man.
For now she needed money, transportation, and a change of clothes. The twenty would get her most of the way to the storage unit, if she remembered where it was correctly, and she could walk the rest of the way. In that garage was water and transport, and maybe even a change of clothes.
She didn’t feel guilty about taking the key, or taking advantage of Dax’s belongings in it, not only because he was her husband but because she knew he wanted her to be alright. The worst thing that could happen was that he came looking for the key, to challenge her for it back. This gave Dax the excuse he needed to come and find her, and while she held this, she still carried a piece of him with her.
Midnight came and went and Dax still wasn’t at the mansion. He was on his way, sort of, it wasn’t like he was hiding out. Waiting for the meeting had made him edgy, so he had decided to go the bar and hang out with the crew. Only a few minutes after his arrival Dax acknowledged that being social wasn’t what brought him here, booze did.
When it came time to leave for the meeting, Dax realised that his plan had one major flaw, now he was too wasted to drive. Good sense told him that he shouldn’t dare go near his bike, but he still made himself rise from the couch in the corner of the back room where he’d been observing his men enjoy their evening, with every intention of going to Mauri’s.
Staggering towards the door, he tried to blink away his double vision and hoped it wasn’t evident to the others just how intoxicated he was. It had been years since he’d got himself drunk enough to know it affected his performance, and now he regretted making the decision to pick up the Scotch bottle. But that wasn’t the only thing he regretted tonight.
Reminding himself of what had gone on at his apartment made the angry urge to drink resurface. Pausing to gather himself, Dax rested a hand on the doorframe and let it slide upward as his head dropped. He’d been an idiot, a complete and utter idiot. Mauri had told him that Ivy played him and he’d just jumped on it, unable to believe that such a dynamic woman could want anything to do with him beyond sex.
Dax had only ever been worth what someone was willing to pay for him, and that was the sad truth; he was the whore he accused her of being, he was the one prostituting himself. He sold his skills to the highest bidder and panted like an eager dog for Mauri’s praise and acceptance along the way. And maybe that was the true reason for his drinking.
He was a coward, it was nothing more complicated than that; he hadn’t wanted to stand up to Mauri. Ivy gave him ample opportunity to make this right, she was patient, and now he had lost her.
Mauri didn’t want things to change. Well, he wanted Trystan to change, and Ivy was the golden ticket, the miracle cure who was supposed to make that happen. Except she wasn’t Trystan’s miracle cure, she was his.
Bringing his fingers into a curl against his palm, he drew back his fist, ready to take out his frustration on the wall. But someone stepped in and got hold of his arm. Dax’s impulse was to fight the guy, but he didn’t have his wits about him so when the guy pulled him out of the room and into the corridor Dax just fumbled along, losing the will to fight. If someone wanted to kick the shit out of him, he should probably let them, it would be karmic retribution.
Instead of a punch, he was just thrown back against the outer wall, and again he found himself blinking, except this time it was the pulse of pain in his skull that he was trying to get rid of.
‘You’re not getting on the bike.’
‘No choice,’ Dax said, lying his head on the concrete behind it to hold it up and bring this interfering person into focus. It was Serg.
‘You got a choice,’ Serg said. ‘The cops pull you over when you’re in this state and they’ll keep you.’
‘Who gives a fuck?’
‘You got product on you?’
Dax could barely remember getting to the bar let alone if he’d been working before or after getting here. ‘Maybe.’ He wasn’t going to expend the energy checking his pockets.
‘Then a lot of people care. You gonna tell them where you got it?’
Once again Mauri was being prioritised over everything else. ‘Get off me, man,’ Dax said, giving his colleague a full body shove. Catching his footing, he carried on toward where he thought he remembered leaving the bike.
‘You shouldn’t have let her go.’
Serg’s statement made Dax stop. ‘Didn’t,’ he called back over his shoulder. ‘She bailed on me after I fucked her. Bitch snuck out while I was taking a nap.’
Talking about Ivy in such terms made his jaw ache. She wasn’t a bitch and she didn’t sneak. If there was one thing he knew about Ivy for sure it was that she didn’t skulk. She walked into a room with her head held high and exited it in the same way. She wasn’t a chicken-shit, no-good—
‘Rita thinks something different.’
‘What the fuck does that tramp know? And when the fuck were you talking about it?’
‘She thinks you got yourself in over your head. Says Trystan’s girl might have got something on you.’
‘If a bitch won’t keep her mouth shut, fill it with something,’ Dax snarled, grabbing the chain link fence at his side for support. ‘You’re fucking Rita, right?’
‘Everyone’s fucking Rita,’ Serg said. ‘I’ll take you to the mansion.’ Dax heard the jangle of keys; he still hadn’t turned to look at his associate. ‘I heard that Trystan was back.’
Dax’s tongue curled in his mouth and suddenly it wasn’t so difficult to stand up straight, his posture grew and the self-pitying effects of the alcohol began to subside. ‘He is?’
‘Yeah,’ Serg said, moving past Dax who stayed at his operative’s side until they got to the car. Then they both got in.
Dax wasn’t going to take the chance of killing himself on the bike when there was still so much to say to his surrogate little brother. Maybe the alcohol had been a good idea after all, his inhibitions were lowered and so he was more likely to speak what was actually in his mind – the truth.
Serg said that he was going to get coffee, but Dax didn’t care, he was on a mission. The house should be awake and waiting for him and Ivy to arrive, though Dax had no idea what time it was. None of that mattered to him anymore, there was only one thing that he wanted to do. Taking the steps two at a time, he flew up them and along the hallway to Trystan’s doorway. The adrenaline counteracted the alcohol as had been his experience every time.
It wouldn’t have mattered whether or not the door was locked, Dax was going through it either way. But it was unlocked, so he stormed straight in and saw Trystan in one of the arm chairs by his window, Brad was in the one opposite. Rita was here too, on her knees in front Trystan who was slouched enough to make it clear to Dax what the woman was doing for him.
Brad had a glass in his hand, but Dax knew he wasn’t drunk. Anyone else might find this scenario shocking, but Dax had actually been in Brad’s shoes himself; carrying on a normal conversation with Trystan while the bastard got his cock sucked by some pretty little thing.
‘Rita, bail,’ Dax said and the woman sat back on her haunches and wiped the moisture from her swollen mouth with the back of her hand.
‘I’m nearly done,’ she said.
‘Now!’