Page 31 of Freestyle (Academy of Stardom 1)

“Hey, Pen, fancy pairing up with me?” Frederico, leader of Dante’s Crew and an arsehole of the highest magnitude asks as he yanks me out of Dax’s hold. Before I can even push him away, he’s grasping my arse like he owns it, rocking me against his half-mast cock.

“Get off me!” I shout, pushing at his chest and slamming my clenched fist into his chin for good measure. The pain in my knuckles is overshadowed by my anger and Dax’s roar.

“You fucking cunt!” His rage drawing the attention of the other Breakers and sending the surrounding dancers scattering. Zayn, York and Xeno step up. This isn’t the first time they’ve had to fight for my honour, and it isn’t the first time I’ve been mauled by some opportunist prick either, but so openly and brazenly in front of the Breakers, never. Frederico must be that high, or plain stupid. Either way, he doesn’t get a chance to touch me again because right now Dax has him by the throat in a death grip.

“Motherfucking cunt. Do not touchourgirl!” Dax spits.

Realisation dawns on Frederico’s face and through the haze of alcohol and cocaine, he begins to understand the error of his ways. Pity then that Dax has his throat gripped so tightly, he can’t actually speak.

“Dax, it’s cool. He’s fucking high,” I say, pushing the flat of my hand against his heaving chest. I can see the remnants of white powder dusting Frederico’s nose. He’s our age, and something close to sympathy overtakes my anger. I reach up, trying to pry Dax’s hand from around his throat. “This is the drug talking, Dax. No one needs to get hurt tonight. I doubt he’ll even remember what he said come morning.”

My stomach coils at the look of cold disgust on Dax’s face aimed squarely at Frederico. He won’t let this go. He won’t let him go. Shit.

“Dax, it’s not worth it.” I stand before him, trying to ease him back but I recognise that look in Dax’s eyes. I’ve seen it before. He’s going to erupt, and when he does, it won’t be pretty.

“Please,” I cajole, cupping his face. Dax flicks his gaze to mine, then releases Frederico who gasps for air.

“Come near her again and you’re dead,” Dax promises, before wrapping his arm around my shoulder and attempting to walk away.

“Ah, come on, man. Just a little taste. I promise I’ll get her ready for you boys. Sharing is caring, right?” Frederico pushes, too fucking high to see sense after all. I stiffen, ready to put myself between Dax and the fucking imbecile when York lunges for me, wraps an arm around my waist and yanks me backwards out of harm’s way.

“No way, Titch. He had his chance to walk away. This dude fucking deserves all he gets,” he murmurs into my ear.

I watch with sick fascination as Dax launches himself at Frederico, laying into him with a punch that launches him backward into the baying crowd who push his stumbling body back towards Dax. Blood pours from Frederico’s nose, the combination of regular cocaine use and the power of Dax’s punch most likely breaking his nose. The kid’s so out of it that he doesn’t even register the pain or the heavy bleeding.

“What? We all know that you’re all fucking her. Sharing ain’t a problem with you lot, is it?” he argues back, blood leaking into his mouth and staining his white teeth, red.

York tenses around me, out of the corner of my eye I can see Zayn’s expression change from derision to explosive anger, but it’s Xeno’s calm control that scares me the most.

“Do it,” he snarls.

Dax looks between me and Xeno, and nods once. There is no hesitancy in Dax’s attack, just a resolute kind of rage as he runs at Frederico like a cyclone about to destroy everything in its path, and by destroy I meankill.

“Stop!” I shout, struggling to get out of York’s hold and pull Dax off of Frederico now that he's straddling Frederico’s chest, pummelling him with vicious blows. No one seems to care that he’s turning into a bloody mess aside from me, and whilst I hate the cocksucker for what he just said, I don’t want this to go any further for Dax’s sake.

“Fucking stop!” I yell again, elbowing York’s chest so he loosens his hold enough to let me go. I fly towards Dax, yanking at his arm. When he gets like this, I fear for him. You don’t live with abuse and have it not affect you in some way. Dax is used as a punching bag on the daily, and this is the result: an unstoppable, uncontrollable rage. If I know him like I think I do, he’s imagining his dad’s face beneath his fist right now, because when the rage takes over all you see are the people who hurt you the most.

“Enough!” I pull at him as hard as I can, and somehow manage to yank him off Frederico. We end up in a heap, sprawled out on the floor. The kid’s a mess, his face swollen and bloody, but he’s still breathing,just.

I don’t think, I act.

“We need to get out of here,” I shout, rushing to my feet. I pull Dax up with me, catching the violence in his eyes that has my heart racing and my blood pumping. “We have to go!”

Tugging on his arm, we push through the crowd. I don’t look back. The Breakers know what to do. They’ll run too, and this mess will be cleared up by Jeb.

It’s not the first time a fight has broken out in Rocks and it won’t be the last. This place runs on dance, music, drugs, alcohol, and violence. There’s an unspoken rule that if someone gets fucked-up in this place, then there’s never any repercussions with the law. No police. Ever. Not unless you want to live. That’s something to be grateful for at least, though I’m not foolish enough to believe that Dax will get away with this. He’ll owe Jeb a debt now, and Dante’s Crew will be gunning for our blood.

Yanking on Dax’s hand, we run. The crowd parts and I head towards the exit at the back of the club not wanting to leave by the front in case we get jumped. Pushing through the fire exit, we step out into the night. Fear lodges in my throat as I pull Dax down the darkened alleyway, my foggy breaths wispy in the cold night air. When I realise that no one is following us, I stop to catch my breath.

“Dax, are you okay?” I ask, pulling him into a darkened recess and pushing him up against a locked door there. He stares at me with an absent kind of violence, locked inside a moment in time that has nothing to do with Frederico and everything to do with the abuse he endures at the hands of his dad. “Dax…?”

He raises his hand, his fingertips shaking as he blinks away whatever memory he’s trapped within. I capture his fingers in mine, not caring that they’re covered in Frederico’s blood, only caring about him, about his state of mind. He would’ve killed him. Maybe the violence had started because he was defending my honour, but it became something else.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” I reassure him, clutching his hand, and pressing his palm against my cheek. His skin on mine seems to register deep within and I see recognition flicker within his eyes that change from bleak, to wild, to fearful, as he realises what he’s done.

“Kid, I…”

“Shh, shh. It’ll be okay, but we need to get back to the basement, okay?” I move to turn away, to lead us out of the alley and head to safety, but his hand slips into my hair as he tugs me close until I’m flat against his body.

---