GRIFFIN: Lost Disciples MC

by Paula Cox

  She only hoped this ordeal wouldn’t take away everything Dax liked about her. The idea wasn’t as maudlin as it sounded either. Maybe it was even inevitable.

  Hell, she already hated herself.

  Chapter Seventeen

  There was something…off about the espresso from the coffee machine in the hospital’s waiting room. A weird metallic taste that was guaranteed to stay with him for the rest of the day. But his energy levels were for shit—he’d barely slept since the incident—so he paid for a second cup, determined to stay focused. This was a tricky time, he knew, when Tiana’s trauma was setting off firecrackers in her brain. Consciously, she was still trying to make sense of what had happened; subconsciously, her brain was putting up its defensive coping mechanisms. The two would be at odds with one another for some time.

  He should know. He’d attended those mandatory counseling sessions after his voluntary discharge from the Corps, and his shrink had explained what he, Monte, and likely some of the others had been going through. Trauma was an insidious thing. It worked away at you inside, doing most of its damage without you being aware of it. The wig-outs and the nightmares were like the tip of the iceberg; the really dangerous stuff lurked under the surface, hidden from view, ready to sink anyone who got too close.

  So what could he do to help? Staying away indefinitely wasn’t an option. Tiana might drift out of his life altogether if he didn’t prove he was there to support her. But saying the wrong thing at the wrong time might set off the one firecracker that alienated her from him for good. She was clearly linking him to what had happened on some level. Maybe coming to see her so soon had not been a smart move after all.

  Christ, there was no rulebook for any of this. And it would be a while before she could even tell him how she was feeling, what she was thinking. Until then, he would just have to infer. Not one of his strong suits. Then again, she was worth the effort, any effort it took to keep on seeing her.

  The big question now was: did she want to keep on seeing him?

  Despite the doubts rattling around inside him—not to mention the double metallic espresso—he began to nod, as he stared at the soothing baby blue wall.

  “Sleep when you’re dead, slacker.”

  Dax sat up and blinked himself back to life. The clean-cut guy stooping in front of the coffee machine wore a navy blue hoodie and black jeans. “Monte? What are you doing here?”

  “Thought I’d drop in and see how you’re holding up.”

  Dax knew he was missing several key steps in this rendezvous, but he was too tired to figure them out. “How did you find me?”

  Monte shook the sugar in its paper bag, then emptied it into his cup of tea. “You’d switched your phone off when I rang, so I got in touch with your agent.”

  “Ward?”

  “Uh-huh. He told me where I could find you.”

  “Very…resourceful of you.”

  “Not really.” Monte removed his hood and sat beside Dax, sipping his drink. “I heard what happened with Hollis and his old lady. Then I remembered you were seeing her. Tiana, right?”

  “Right. She was at my house when Hollis snatched her. I only just got to her in time.”

  “So it was all over before you got there?”

  Dax nodded gravely.

  “Jesus. She was lucky then,” said Monte.

  “That’s what I said. But she fucking hated that I used that word.”

  “I can’t think of another.”

  “Me either, brother,” said Dax. “Me either. I guess sometimes it’s best to say nothing.”

  Monte was silent.

  “But hey, thanks for coming. Appreciate it.” Dax suddenly felt hungry. He eyed the vending machine. As he got up, he asked, “Want anything?”

  “Nah, man. I’m good. Had a KFC on my way over.”

  Dax bought a pack of potato chips and a pack of mini Oreos. “How much did Ward tell you?”

  “That you took off like Liam Neeson in Taken and probably ran every red light in the city. What else? Oh yeah, that he helped find the address for you. He sounded proud. Not a bad guy, huh?”

  “Ward’s alright. He always comes through.”

  “And you?” asked Monte. “How are you holding up?”

  Dax shrugged. “Still here, I guess.”

  “She means a lot to you.”

  Dax was silent. He turned Monte’s loaded remark over in his mind and realized he’d alluded to the same thing in his own answer. Dax’s first marriage had been brief. It had not ended well because he hadn’t been there enough. He hadn’t been ready to put down roots and put her before his career. He felt shitty about that now, but that was who he’d been at the time. What he’d ultimately wanted.

  It got him to thinking: had he really changed since then?

  “Have you heard from Cherish at all?” Dax asked.

  “No. Why?” Monte’s defenses were up, just like during their one-on-one the other week.

  “Because I was just thinking about Melanie and about what happened the last time I got stuck on a chick.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Dax looked at his friend askance. “You knew I was thinking about Melanie?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Who are you, Magneto?”

  Monte chuckled. “I think you mean Professor X.”

  “Whatever.” Damn those fifty million X-Men characters; Jennifer Lawrence in blue body paint was the only one worth remembering anyway. “You were thinking about her, too. Melanie, I mean.”

  “She crossed my mind when I heard you were still here.” Monte finished the last of his tea, crushed the paper cup and tossed it in the trash. A good shot from fifteen feet away. “I don’t recall it happening that way with Melanie. No offence.”

  “None taken. But fuck you for saying it anyway.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Dax’s turn to chuckle. It had often been like this between him and Monte—home truths wrapped in sharp throwaway banter. They knew how to cut each other to the quick and somehow get away with it with a cheeky turn of phrase. He’d missed that. Sherwood was the closest thing he had to it in his ring corner. But there was only one “Slats.”

  “I didn’t intend for her to make her own way home,” he insisted. “I just lost track of time.”

  Monte nodded sarcastically. “Your wife drinks two bottles of wine because you left her home alone on date night, winds up in hospital with alcohol poisoning, and you leave her there to go run a marathon at the crack of dawn. Brother, you’re a credit to the ring finger. It’s right next to the finger you actually showed her that morning.”

  “It wasn’t the end of the world. And I was in training. She knew that.”

  “Oh, she knew that alright.” Monte threw him a wink. “I think you even wrote that on your divorce papers: Sorry, I’m in training right now; I’ve only got time to leave my signature.”

  Dax shook his head. “I’m glad you find it so amusing. Allow me to repay the favor sometime.”

  “You’ve changed is all I’m saying.”

  “You reckon? I’m not so sure.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Monte.

  Dax took his time opening the Oreos packet. It was one of those annoyingly tough wrappers; the ends were too small for him to get a decent grip on, and he didn’t want to force it open and send the cookies flying all over the floor. In the end, he bit it open with his teeth.

  “Why do you not think you’ve changed?” Monte reiterated.

  “I don’t know. The way things turned out. I mean, how many women have I dated, and how many of those numbers are still in my cell phone?” He shrugged again.

  “Um, I’m guessing that was a rhetorical question, but I’ll hazard a guess at a lot and not many.”

  “Now ask yourself why that is.”

  Monte sighed. “I don’t see why you have to lump this girl in with all those who’ve gone before. Why can’t she be the exception?”

  “That’s just it. I think sh
e might be the exception. I’m crazy about her.” It was the first time Dax had admitted that out loud to anyone, and he didn’t regret it.

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I think maybe I’m not cut out for anything permanent. You saw how I was with Melanie, how I couldn’t be what she wanted. That hurt her, more than I realized at the time. I was a cold, selfish son of a bitch, and I should’ve never gotten married.” He paused. “Thanks for not disagreeing, bro. Jesus.”

  “Keep going,” Monte told him. “I’ll stop you when you’re wrong.”

  “You’re all heart.”

  “You weren’t—not with Melanie. But go on.”

  “I guess I just don’t want that to happen to Tiana. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s been through too much already.”

  “Again, why does that have to happen to Tiana?” asked Monte. “You’re not a Marine anymore; you’re not itching to go overseas. And she knows the deal—she’s lived with a professional fighter. The hotels, the crazy routines, the publicity—she knows what’s in store. The only way you’re going to surprise her is by not fucking betraying her trust like that last asshole she was with. I realize that’s a big ask for a dick like you, but stranger things have happened. After all, like you said, you’re still here.”

  “But how do I know I’ll still be here a year from now? Or six months. How do I know if she even wants another fighter around after the shit she’s just been through?”

  “That’s up to her, isn’t it?”

  Dax didn’t respond.

  “And how do you know you’ll still be with her six months from now?” Monte retrieved his wallet, took out a twenty-dollar note. “If you tell her how you feel and don’t leave anything out—anything—I’ll bet you twenty bucks you’re still together in six months’ time.”

  “Really? You’re that confident I’ve changed?”

  “I know you’ve changed. The same way I know I’ve changed. The only question is: can you accept that you’ve changed and like it?”

  Dax thought about for a moment, then spluttered a laugh. “You should charge by the hour. Jesus Christ.”

  “Hehe! Too much time in the company of shrinks, huh. I guess some of it rubbed off.”

  “I guess so. But you really think I have a shot this time? You really think I’m not gonna fuck it up?”

  Monte smiled a knowing smile. “The fact that you’re asking that question is proof enough that you’re willing to at least try. Also that you think she’s worth it.”

  “She’s loyal. She spent years with a guy who didn’t treat her right. And it didn’t kill her spirit. Not one bit.”

  “Then you’ll have to make sure you treat her right.”

  “I just don’t know how she’s going to be after this,” said Dax. “I mean, how can she ever be the same after this?”

  “You might be surprised. She sounds resilient. People get over trauma all the time.” He bowed his head and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Some better than others, right?” He suddenly looked up, beaming. But it was false—the worst attempt at faking an emotion since his girlfriend’s death scene on that daytime murder soap.

  “What if she doesn’t want to see me?” asked Dax. “I felt like persona non grata in there just now. What if that doesn’t change?”

  “Give her time. She needs to process what she’s gone through. Healing can be lonely. You need that private space, but it helps when you know there are people who’ll be there when you need them. I wish I could’ve explained that to Cherish. She did crowd me too much, but I didn’t try to meet her half way. I pushed her away instead. Completely pushed her away. And I fucking hate myself for it. So don’t make our mistakes, brother. Give her time to heal, but let her know you’ll be there for her when she’s ready. It’s not rocket science, but it’s so easy to get it wrong.”

  “I know. I think I’ve already gotten it wrong.”

  “Nah. You’re here, and she knows it,” Monte pointed out. “You’re making progress.”

  Dax wasn’t so sure. But whatever happened, he was determined to stick around and find out. He’d made his mistakes in the past—some pretty big ones—but Tiana was different. She had him reassessing what the rest of life could be like. He’d never entertained that before. Not seriously, not even with Melanie. He’d always been the central player in his future. Everything and everyone else had revolved around him.

  Tiana was different. As long as she was in his life, she would be central to it.

  But did she want to be in his life?

  Chapter Eighteen

  “No! Stop! I can’t breathe!”

  Tiana lurched upright in bed and scrambled onto her side, massaging her still-sore neck. She coughed. The relentless drum in her chest insisted everything was not fine, damn it, but the cute reindeer staring back at her from all over the wallpaper suggested otherwise. And those princesses with the big eyes looked friendly enough. Frozen, that was it—the Disney cartoon her nieces had shown her three times in three days now. Catchy songs, despite the annoying snowman.

  This was Len’s room. It was safe here.

  She reached for a glass of water from the bedside table. Her T-shirt, pajama pants, and bed sheets were soaked. Tiana had lost count of the number times she’d had that nightmare in the past few weeks. The walls closing in about her. Screaming at the top of her lungs and no sound coming out. The hands around her neck, squeezing. Her head ballooning, her eyes bugging out like those people without spacesuits in that Schwarzenegger movie set on Mars.

  Jesus. It just seemed so real. Every time, too damn real. Obviously, being in a safe environment like this, surrounded by Disney wallpaper, was not enough to keep the bad dreams at bay. Thad had screwed her up more than she or anyone else had realized.

  The door flung wide and her two nieces, Len, age eight, and Shana, age six, ran in clutching their pillows. They both stood there at the foot of the bed, wide-eyed, gazing at her.

  “Auntie Tiana? What’s wrong?” Shana, the youngest, looked just like Tiana when she’d been that age, down to the pigtails and the little potbelly.

  “Aw, nothing, sweetie.” And after a long gulp of water, she said, “A bad dream, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

  “But you’re soaked,” Len pointed out. “Your T-shirt’s all wet. I can see everything.”

  Tiana adjusted her top. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you guys.”

  “Are you okay?” asked Shana. “You look…piqued.”

  “She means peaky,” her sister pointed out. “That’s what Mom says when our color’s not so good.”

  “Are you sick?” Again, Shana showing her concern.

  “No, sweetie. Just got too hot is all.” She eyed the wallpaper. “You think Julia and Sarah might be able to help me cool down?”

  Shana nodded slowly, then pointed up at the dopey snowman. “Fausto gets too hot sometimes. He just needs to go out in the snow to get cold again, then he’s good. Maybe you just need to get out of bed, Auntie Tiana.”

  Okay, so the six-year-old was making more sense than anything Tiana had come up with so far. “I wish you guys were always around to look out for me,” she said, sliding out of bed. She saluted the snowman. “And Fausto, too.” Putting her arms around them, she escorted her nieces back to their room. It was actually Shana’s room now, but they were sharing while Tiana stayed. Good thing their dad, Avery, hadn’t gotten around to dismantling the bunk beds yet.

  “What was your nightmare about?” asked Len, who seemed so grown up compared to the last time Tiana had spent the night here, babysitting about eighteen months ago. She was tall for her age, wiry, and liked soccer. She’d also lost some of her sweetness, as though the real world had already begun to erode her childhood fantasies. The difference between her and Shana was kind of startling; it seemed to have happened overnight. Tiana didn’t know exactly how to interact with her anymore.

  “Oh, nothing bad,” replied Tiana. “It’s over with now.”

  “Mus
t have been pretty bad if it made you scream out like that.” Len reluctantly climbed into the bottom bunk, while her little sister yawned and held her arms out, waiting to be lifted up to the top one.