Jagged Harts, page 6
A few chuckles sound through the room as Dax rolls his eyes. “Don’t let your head get too big, short stuff. I wasn’t actually trying to hurt you, unlike someone,” he says as he rubs his jaw.
I knew that one hurt him pretty good. I am damn proud of it too.
“Well, that is your first mistake. You fight with everything you have, or you don’t at all. Don’t step on that mat if you aren’t going to show up,” I say as I condescendingly pat his cheek before stepping down to the ground.
Blake tosses me a water bottle and I accept it happily, draining the entire thing in seconds.
“Nice work, Aubrey,” he says as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Thanks for the tip,” I wink.
“What tip?” Dax growls from behind me.
Blake and I trade a secretive smirk before I shrug my shoulders. Blake however seems to want to rub this in his face, so I kick back and watch.
“Oh, nothing, man. You know how I am always telling you about how you need to be careful what your feet give away? Just thought it was fair that I share some of that info with Aubrey here. I mean, in all of our minds she was a complete rookie that had no business being in there and she was taking on the champ. She needed an edge.”
Dax scoffs and crosses his tree trunk arms. “Yeah, well clearly she isn’t some rookie. I think she cracked a fucking rib,” he spits, though his tone holds no venom.
His eyes flick down to mine before he sticks out his hand. My eyes flick to his, waiting for the trick, but when I see no ill intention, I shake it hesitantly. He dips his head so that it is only me and him that can hear his next words.
“Nice work, short stuff. I am impressed and that doesn’t happen often. Just know that the next time that I get you on your back, you will be staying there until we are both satisfied.”
I whip my hand away and shove him as hard as I can. He seems to have predicted my reaction because he barely even moves an inch as he smirks down at me.
“In your dreams, asshole.”
“Ever since that first night,” he quips.
The seriousness of his tone catches me off guard. I am not sure what to make of his words or how to even respond, so I just don’t. I walk over to one of the empty mats and start stretching out. If I don’t stretch after a match like that then I will be walking stiff legged for days. Cameron walks by and drops $200 in my lap. I furrow my brows as I glance up to him.
“Your winnings. The guys were taking bets before you two even got in the octagon. The only one that bet on you was Blake.”
I glance over to see Blake shaking a few bills around and giving me a wink across the room.
Yep. Definitely my favorite.
I laugh and slip the money into my bra. “Sweet, thanks.”
“No problem. Look, if you are ever looking to make some money, come by on a Friday night. I won’t pair you up with someone like Hart but that should make winning that much easier, right?”
I smirk and nod. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for the offer.”
“No problem.”
Cameron strides over to a group of guys and jumps into training. I smile as I watch them for a little while. It may seem weird that a place like this is where I feel most at peace, but I do. Maybe it is from my original memories of a place not too different from this one, maybe it is from the power and confidence I feel when I walk through a set of gym doors. Either way, this is as close to true peace as I ever feel.
I know that if Dax wanted to take me out early in our fight he could have, everyone knows that. But everyone also knows that I held my own and caught him off guard a few times and I can go home proud of that.
After I am done stretching, I hop up to my feet and head for the door. Several people call out my name and say bye. I haven’t met any of them obviously, but I guess they all think it is in their best interest to get on my good side. Whatever. I toss a general wave in the air before I reach the door.
Just as I touch the handle, I feel a tingling at the base of my neck. I turn around to look over my shoulder and see Dax standing in the middle of the octagon as he watches me intently. Our eyes connect for a couple of seconds and my heart beats rapidly out of rhythm in my chest.
Playing it off like I am completely unaffected by him, I open the door and make my way to Betty. The delicious ache that begins to seep into my muscles tells me that today was a good workout and something that I was in desperate need of. I will definitely be back, if anything, to make sure Dax fucking Hart stays humble.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
AUBREY
We are slammed at work tonight. Everyone and their mother called out with the flu, so it is just Cole bartending while I work the floor and Freddy in the kitchen. Apparently, all the residents of Glenfield also decided that it was a good idea to get some food from The White Oak tonight. We are currently maxed out on capacity with not one free seat in the whole damn place.
“Hey!” A guy in his mid-twenties calls out from a booth in the corner.
I stop what I am doing and turn around, slapping on my fakest smile before I get to him and his buddy.
“Hi, everything alright?”
He scoffs. “No, everything is not alright. You fucked up our order! We wanted whiskey sours, not straight whiskey.” His voice drips with disdain at the fact that he even has to talk to me right now.
Trust me, the feeling is mutual.
I could have sworn that they ordered two neat whiskeys because I remember thinking that they didn’t look like the sipping whiskey type. Honestly though, I am drowning out here. So maybe I did screw it up.
“I am sorry about that,” I say making my voice come across way more apologetic than I actually am. “I will get you some new drinks right now.”
“Damn right you will, honey. Maybe next time use that thing in your pretty little head when you show up to work.”
I don’t respond to that as I walk away, heading for the bar while checking over the latest order I have to punch in. Working in a customer service job like this has forced me to tolerate way more bullshit than I normally would. But if I want a paycheck, I gotta grin and bear it. Walking up to the bar top, I place my hands on it and lean over to Cole so that I can re-order douche bag #1 & #2’s drinks.
“Hey, Cole. I need two whiskey sours. The assholes at table six…” My voice trails off as I look up to see not Cole but Dax bartending. He is standing there with a raised eyebrow, no doubt amused at my surprise. He glances at me and then to the guys in the booth and then back to me.
“Need me to take care of the assholes?” Dax offers as he sends the guys a dark look, though it’s wasted since they aren’t even paying attention to us.
“No, I’ve dealt with worse. Just the drinks…please.”
He looks at me for a second before he nods and starts making the drinks quicker than I would have guessed he could. I step around him to ring in the multiple food orders that I haven’t had a chance to place yet. Once they are all sent through, I walk back over to the bar top to take the drinks, but Dax brushes past me and heads for the douche bag booth. I keep trying to take them from him as he walks, but he blocks all my attempts.
“What are you doing?” I huff in frustration.
He looks down at me with a serious expression and a deep tone. “Fixing an issue.”
Dax steps up to the booth as the guys look up to see us approaching. Recognition flashes in their eyes when they see Dax, so they must know him or something. It seems like he really is some type of local celebrity. For an underground fighter a lot of people sure seem to know about him.
“Hey guys. I hear there was some issue with the last round of drinks?” He asks, setting down the drinks
D-bag #1 looks up at him and nods. “Yeah. Barbie over there gave us the wrong drinks. I know she is a hot piece of ass and all man, but she’s totally incompetent. She shouldn’t even be working here. You only keep girls like her around for one thing, ya know?”
Disgust fills me as he continues to spew shit. I would love nothing more than to throttle his ass right now. Unfortunately, Dax beats me to it. In a flash he has lifted the guy out of the booth and has him pinned to the wall by his throat. The look on the guy’s face is one of sheer terror, while Dax wears a deep scowl and practically stares into the dude’s soul.
“Apologize,” Dax growls.
His tone is icy and hard. His arms are trembling, and it looks like he is barely containing his rage at this point.
“Hey! Fuck you ma-”
Dax cuts him off by bringing him off the wall and slamming him against it again.
“Say you’re sorry, you little shit, and then get the fuck out of my bar,” he roars in the guy’s face.
D-bag #1’s eyes dart back and forth between Dax and I before they settle on me.
“I-I’m sorry. Maybe I ordered the wrong drinks. Just a misunderstanding,” he pushes out, his voice strained, probably from Dax’s grip tightening by the second.
Dax drops him to the ground and watches as the guy falls into a crumpled heap. D-bag #2 quickly helps him up as they scramble out the door like they are running for their lives. Maybe they are, Dax does look pretty pissed. I saw that look in his eye. The pure undiluted rage that was begging to be set free, the darkness begging to envelope him and carry out its dark purpose. The Angel of Death.
Slowly, Dax turns around to look at me as if he is waiting for my words of praise and thanks, but he has another thing coming if that is what he is hoping for, he should know from the last time that he pulled this shit. I don’t let people fight my battles for me and this guy has interrupted not one altercation but two. Who the fuck does he think he is? Pure fury is burning inside of me while my hands ball up into fists by my sides. I go to open my mouth, the anger ready to boil over before I hear a booming voice shout across the bar.
“Dax, out!”
The words are short and clipped as I turn to see Marcus glaring at Dax. Dax shrugs like his behavior is to be expected and Marcus shouldn’t be surprised. As Dax makes his way out of the bar, he looks back at me one more time with an almost confused expression, like he genuinely thought I would be happy that he barged in and made me out to be a dainty little princess who got her feelings hurt. Obviously, this man doesn’t have a fucking clue.
The next day, I’m making my way through the courtyard when I spot Dax talking with Blake and Chase. I storm up to him as the fury from last night begins to rise inside of me. Almost instantly I feel just as pissed as last night. When I reach him, I push him with all of my might. He stumbles a step before he catches himself which wasn’t nearly as satisfying as I was hoping. His angry expression swings around to look at who dared to put their hands on him.
In the same instant, I reel my arm back, ready to deck him when he grasps my wrist mid-air before I can make the connection. Shit. The anger on his face fades and a stoic mask replaces it, which pisses me off even more for some reason. I let out a frustrated grunt before ripping my hand out of his grasp as I ball both of my fists at my sides, ready to take another swing if the opportunity arises.
“What the fuck was all that about last night?” I seethe.
“What part? The part where I saved you from the jackass talking shit or the part where you got pissed off for God knows what reason this time?” He snaps back, a little glimpse of that temper from last night peeking through. He doesn’t scare me though, not even close.
I let out a humorless laugh as I shake my head.
“Saved me? You made me look weak! Now them and anyone else who witnessed your little tantrum thinks that if I fuck up, I can’t own up to it. That I have to have someone come fight my battles for me, that isn’t me. And news-fucking-flash. I don’t need saving, ever.”
He looks at me thoughtfully and his mask slips just barely as he speaks.
“Everyone needs saving once in a while. I think the words you are really looking for are thank you.”
“Nope, I was thinking more like fuck you. Next time, just make the fucking drinks and let me handle my shit, got it?”
I don’t give him time to respond before I shoulder past him, storming away. Maybe some chicks would be thankful for the bullshit hero routine, but where I am from you handle your own and if you don’t you are labeled weak and then shit only gets worse from there. I don’t know what the fuck possessed him to pull what he did last night but one thing is for sure, if he pulls anything like that again I will break his fucking arm.
The next few weeks pass by in a blur and fall comes out of nowhere. Thank God for that because I thought the heat was going to kill me. Most of my days have been spent either in class or at work but the occasional free time I have is usually spent at the gym or hanging out with Cole and Mckayla. Cole took me to Kramer’s one day after class and he was right, their ice cream is fucking delicious.
I have made a couple of acquaintances at the gym that I spar with when I go there which is cool. They are a pretty chill group of guys. They all seem to have major respect for me since I took on their almighty leader, except for Chase of course who just as Blake predicted seems to have a massive grudge against me.
There have been a few times that I have run in to Dax around campus, always with a different girl perched on top of his lap. We have passed by each other a few times at the gym too, but he never pays me too much attention, which is fine by me. Our eyes will meet, and he will stare at me with that mask of indifference, but I see right through that shit. He is so far from indifferent. Whether he is or not doesn’t really matter to me though.
I am hanging out in my room one night working on a paper when I hear a knock come from my door. I jump up and pull it open to reveal Cole’s easy smile.
“Hey, darlin’. I thought you might be low,” he says, raising a bag that has two gallons of ice cream in it.
I smile and give him a mock irritated glare. “Yeah, someone keeps eating it all.”
I open the door more to let him in. He walks in and heads for my mini freezer that I bought after last paycheck before putting the ice cream away. Once he shuts the door, he flops onto my bed, sprawling out like he always does. I swear the guy makes himself at home everywhere he goes. I start to gather my books and papers together since I know that I won’t be getting anymore work done with Cole here.
“So, what have you been up to?” I ask as I move around my room, putting things away as I go.
“Just got off the phone with my family. The twins were in some play, and they wanted to tell me all about it.” He looks at me with an exasperated face. “For 45 minutes,” he deadpans before breaking out into a wide toothed grin.
I roll my eyes at his dramatics and shove him to the side. He loves his sisters so much the guy is a total sucker for them. I am pretty sure he talked about them for 45 minutes the first time that we talked about his family.
“Oh, man. They sound like a handful.”
He scoffs. “You have no idea. One year, they wanted to help Mama make Dad’s birthday cake. They did a pretty good job, except they put salt instead of sugar in it.”
“Oh shit,” I cringe.
He starts laughing. “Oh yeah. But Dad powered through not one piece but two, at the girl’s insistence, of course. Mama was so mad she wouldn’t let the girls into the kitchen for a year after that.”
I chuckle before something twinges in the typically empty hole known as my chest. My smile slips just for a moment but it’s enough for Cole to notice.
“Darlin’?” He asks gently
I pretend to be really busy straightening my bed spread so I don’t have to make eye contact.
“Mhmm?”
He reaches over and places his hand on top of mine, forcing my attention to him.
“Why don’t you ever talk about your family?” His voice is soft, and maybe a bit worried.
I have done a really good job of steering clear of my past while still getting to know him and Mckayla. I thought they just hadn’t noticed. Now I see that they have been waiting for me to bring it up. Poor guy will be waiting a while.
I shrug. “Nothing to tell. I am just a plain girl with a plain life. I don’t have any rowdy siblings sabotaging birthday cakes,” I say teasingly, desperately trying to get the spotlight off me.
A serious look flashes across his face and his jaw hardens in resolve. “You, Aubrey Davis, are anything but plain.”
Sincerity is written across his face like he genuinely believes it. I reach over and wrap him up into a tight hug. I have gotten better about physical touch with others, not that I had much of a choice. It seems both Cole and Kayla are huggers, and it doesn’t even make me cringe anymore. Progress. Thankfully, Cole drops the subject, and we move on to talk about some ridiculous customers that he dealt with last weekend.
My past is something that I plan to keep very firmly in the past. I like that I have been able to reinvent myself here and have the life that I finally deserve. For me it doesn’t matter where I have been, just where I am going. Besides, what is the point in reliving nightmares?
CHAPTER
EIGHT
AUBREY
The next day I decide to take my new paycheck to the store and stock up on essentials. I take a quick shower and toss on a pair of ripped jeans and my favorite Metallica sweatshirt before I add a few sprays of perfume and head out the door. When I go to start Betty up, she makes her typical whining noise, but it lasts a lot longer than normal.
“C’mon baby, you can do it. C’mon, c’mon.”
Finally, she gives in and starts. I blow out a rough sigh of relief. Good girl. When I get to the store, I grab a cart and pile it full of non-perishable foods. It is really all that I can afford, besides that is all that college kids eat anyways, right?
I have been doing surprisingly well with tips at The White Oak, despite the fact that I am a shit waitress. Not sure if people tip me because they feel bad for me or they feel obligated, either way it is a win for me.
