Page 63 of Shattered Souls
“Are you even looking?” I snap. My frustration simmers, boiling just beneath the surface. We haven’t heard a goddamn thing from him since that stupid fucking false lead that only served to destroy the fragile strands of hope Riley has been clinging to. There are no leads, no sign of Aurora—nothing but dead ends and empty promises. And at the center of it all is Dax,sitting there with that infuriating calmness, like he has all the time in the world, whilemy worldis falling apart.
I’ll do whatever I must to bring Aurora home, to have a chance at a relationship with her, and to have anyhopeof a relationship with her mother.
“Yes, I’m fucking looking.” His calm composure snaps in an instant as violence bleeds into the air around him. “I have Blue working day and night, and my team is still tidying up loose ends from that auction.”
“I don’t care about the fucking auction,” I practically yell, vibrating with all this pent-up anger. It presses against my skin, making it impossible to stand still. “Aurora is out there somewhere, scared and alone!”
Dax’s eyes flash with the promise of bloodshed, and the temperature in the room heats by several degrees, the air turning thick with the taste of savagery as he slowly stands. He takes controlled, deliberate steps around the desk until he faces off against me.
“Dax,” Royce warns.
“You think this is easy?” Dax’s voice is low, dangerous. “You think you can just snap your fingers and everything falls into place? This isn’t a movie, Grayson. This is real life; it’s messy and complicated.”
I clench my fists, my knuckles white with the effort. “Don’t patronize me, Dax. I know exactly how messy life is. But all we’ve done is sit around and wait. I’mdonewaiting.”
He takes another step, now close enough that I can feel the heat of his presence. “You want to do something? Fine. Let’s go a round in the ring.” His lips quirk in a cruel smirk. “Let’s see if you have the guts to channel that anger into something useful.”
The challenge hangs in the air, heavy and electric. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of fear and exhilaration coursingthrough me. I’ve seen the brutality Dax brings to the ring, the ruthless efficiency with which he dismantles his opponents.
“Gray.” Wariness lines Royce’s tone. He, more than anyone, knows what Dax is capable of. I won’t be coming out of this unscathed, but the thought of an outlet for all this rage and frustration is too tempting to pass up.
“Fine,” I spit out, my voice shaking with barely restrained fury. “Let’s do it.”
A flicker of something dark and satisfied crosses Dax’s face. “Hope you’re ready to bleed, pretty boy.”
I scoff. “I might not live for the taste of blood in my mouth like you two, but I can hold my own in a fight.”
Dax’s grin only turns more savage as he wags his eyebrows in a weird mix of mischievous violence.Dude is clearly a little unhinged.
“This is a bad idea,” Royce groans as we follow Dax out of the office and down the hall. Being the middle of the day on a Sunday, The Depot is closed. Xander is our only audience, and he’s doing inventory behind the bar when we emerge into the main bar area and stalk toward the ring in the center of the room.
Tension crackles like static electricity as I shed my top, thankful I was feeling lazy and put on sweats today. Rolling my shoulders, I duck to step through the ropes. Dax has already dressed down to a pair of loose shorts, his chest bare and displaying the patchwork of tattoos covering every inch of exposed skin.Jeez, I thought Royce was addicted to pain.
With a cocky smirk, he tosses me a pair of gloves. “Better put these on. Wouldn’t want you to damage those pretty boy hands of yours.”
I catch the gloves and slip them on, ignoring the jibe. I already know I’m going to hurt like a bitch by the time we’re done. If I can get away without fucking my hands up, thenI’m not about to turn down the opportunity out of fucking stubbornness.
“Ready when you are,” I inform him once I’ve stuck the Velcro straps in place. I knock my glove-covered knuckles together as I jump up and down on the spot, getting my blood pumping. Not that I need to. I can already feel the adrenaline rushing through my body, desperate for release. I need this. I need an outlet. I need to feel something other than this helplessness consuming me.
Dax cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders, his eyes locked onto mine. “Alright then. Show me what you’ve got, Desk Jockey. I’ll even give you the first shot.”
Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I don’t bother playing games or trying to suss him out. I charge straight at him, putting my weight behind my first punch as I drive it into his face. There’s the satisfying crack of leather on flesh as his head whips to the side.
He chuckles, his fingers swiping the corner of his mouth and coming away bloodstained before he turns to face me. Blood stains his teeth as the crazy asshole grins at me. Already, the adrenaline of the fight has a manic gleam in his eyes. “Come on, Grayson, is that all you’ve got?”
Nostrils flaring, I slam my fist into his gut. I become enraged when he barely moves, laughing like I’m an annoying fucking gnat buzzing around him. Letting loose, I unleash on him. Jab. Uppercut. Cross. Hook.
Over and over.
The pent-up frustration of not finding Aurora, the anger at my father, the self-hatred for how I treated Riley—all of it pours out with each punch. But it’s not enough. I need more. I need to feelmore.
I grit my teeth and throw a combination of punches, my fists flying with all the anger I’ve been bottling up. Memoriesflash through my mind—my father’s harsh words, Riley’s voice trembling when she disclosed her dark secret, the sickening fear when Royce and Logan came home without Aurora.
The entire time, Dax takes every hit I deliver until my arms are heavy, and I begin to fear that I’ll run out of steam before I sort through the shit in my head.
Eventually, Dax has enough. He moves. His fist shoots out, catching me in the ribs. Pain explodes through my side, and I stagger back, gasping for breath. He’s not holding back anymore. He’s giving me what I asked for.
“You think this will help?” he growls, his eyes cold and calculating. “You think beating me will find her?”
