Rock Revenge: Alex's Story (Access All Areas Book 4) Read online

  ROCK REVENGE: ALEX’S STORY

  ACCESS ALL AREAS SERIES

  BOOK 4

  by

  Candy J. Starr

  Copyright Candy J. Starr 2015

  All rights reserved

  This book is a review copy and not for further distribution.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental

  Dee

  I’m not a vengeful person but there are some things in this world you can’t forgive.

  Alex Dressner deserved to have his life shattered. To have everything he’d built crumble into dust at his feet. When I was through with him, he’d be broken and alone, and even then, it’d not be even a small part of the misery he’d caused my family.

  The morning I’d found out my brother had died, I’d been half-awake, lost in blissful daydreams about my future together with Alex. All I needed to do was to stop him seeing me as Jake’s little sister. Once I’d proved I’d grown up and wasn’t that dumb kid any more, the path to true love would be clear and rose-strewn. He’d gaze into my eyes and tell me I was the only one for him, he’d just been too blind to see it, then he’d cup my face in his hand and gently brush his lips against mine…

  Then Mum burst into my room. I pulled the covers over my head. I didn’t want that dream interrupted by real life. I’d not even gotten to the good bit.

  “Dee,” she said, her voice quivering. “You have to listen to me.”

  The words she’d said had changed me forever.

  At first, I was stunned. I could hear the sounds she made but the actual words didn’t penetrate my brain. Slowly, they started to make sense but I didn’t want them to. I wanted them to buzz around outside me, never making it inside. They were part a nightmare. They couldn’t be reality. Jake would jump into my room, saying it was a stupid prank — and I’d beat the living crap out of him because that really wasn’t funny.

  A spider dangled on a thread from a web in the corner and I focused on that spider, watching his progress. That spider made sense to me. It was real. If I concentrated on that spider, my mind could stay blocked off, the words would never sink in.

  But that didn’t work.

  Moments later, I screamed. I cried.

  The truth sank in, despite my efforts. My brother was dead. When he’d kissed me goodbye the night before, when I’d wished him luck with the gig and nagged him to take me along with him, that had been the last time I’d ever see him.

  “Is Alex okay?” I asked. I couldn’t bear if both of them were dead. Their band, The Jackals, had been playing at a town about an hour’s drive down the coast.

  “Yes, he’s fine,” she said with a voice so brittle, I thought it’d snap in two. “That kind always are.”

  She didn’t tell me straight away but slowly the truth came out.

  Alex disappeared after the accident.

  He’d been the one driving the van. Word was, he’d been far too drunk to drive. The other guys from the band — Pete and Steve — had shown up to give their condolences and they’d not said anything outright but Mum had jumped on every word, wanting to know, trying to piece things together.

  When they talked, I tried to put the pillow over my head. I wanted to drown them out. But, every time the doorbell rang, I strained my ears. It’d be Alex. He’d come. He’d explain. He’d tell us that they were wrong. He hadn’t been driving and he hadn’t been drunk. It was all lies. I could barely get out of bed but I always had that one glimmer of hope — that the crash hadn’t been Alex’s fault, and that he’d come rushing to make me believe that.

  He couldn’t bring Jake back to life but he could prove it was an accident, a genuine mistake, and that all those rumours were untrue.

  But he was the only one who didn’t come to the house.

  Dad just paced the floor, frustration wearing a path in the carpet. At one point, he wanted to go somewhere. I didn’t hear where, but Mum got upset.

  “No, Bill,” she said. “Don’t do anything rash. Leave it to the police.”

  I looked for Alex on the day of the funeral. Thousands of people had turned up. Everyone in town loved Jake. What wasn’t to love? He’d been the sweetest guy. I’d say that even if he hadn’t been my brother. Most of the girls from high school turned up, crying on each other’s shoulders. Most of them had a crush on him. If they hadn’t, then they had some story of his kindness.

  I stood apart from them. Their sadness would soon pass but mine went right to the bone. They all seemed so young.

  After it was all over, people hugged me, an endless crush of bodies telling me they’d never forget Jake. None of them were Alex.

  I’d lost two people on the night of that crash: my brother and my first love. There were no words and no condolences that would make that better.

  Then, one morning about six months after the crash, I woke with the realisation that Alex would never turn up. I’d held out for six long months just hoping something would make sense from all of this. It’d taken six months for the truth about Alex to dawn on me: he just didn’t care.

  It was like the light of common sense finally penetrated the darkness of my mind.

  I got out of bed, realising I couldn’t sleep and mourn my life away. Jake would’ve never wanted that. I came alive in baby steps. I had to force myself at first, opening the curtains and letting in the sun.

  Taking a shower every morning.

  Looking for work.

  Summer holidays had just started when Jake died and I’d graduated from high school with plans to go to university. But summer had ended without me doing a thing about it. I’d lost all heart for study. Mum and Dad didn’t even nag me. Mum just moped about the house, with barely more energy than I had. Dad spent most of his time in the garage working in on his car.

  Jake’s things sat in his room, untouched.

  Summoning up all my courage, I opened the door. The room stunk. Pizza boxes littered the floor, along with stinky gym socks and dirty t-shirts. It was a wonder the rats hadn’t moved in.

  Mum didn’t have the heart to do this, I’d have to do it. I gathered up the clothes from the floor and threw them in a garbage bag. Then I opened the wardrobe. The smell of Jake hit me and I wanted to collapse into a heap, but I sank my teeth into my lip for a moment to hold back the emotion, then kept going.

  I didn’t stop until I used up every garbage bag in the house. The magazines I found under the bed, I didn’t even look at.

  Mum stood outside the door and watched me for a while. She didn’t tell me to stop but she didn’t come in to help either. It was easier to do this alone, anyway. Jake’s room had always been a pigsty but now it was far too clean. I didn’t want to obliterate him, I just wanted to take the fear away. I didn’t want the house to have a closed door forever.

  In the corner of the room sat Jake’s Fender. It’d been a gift from Alex. Jake loved that guitar. Both Alex and Jake played guitar. Pete played bass and Steve was the drummer. But Jake had been able to play anything — guitar, drums, keyboards. I left that guitar propped up against the wall, not wanting to touch it.

  Not long after that, I found a job waiting tables in a cafe. Then I moved out of home. The cafe owners had a small apartment over the cafe just sitting empty. They were happy for me to move in. I think Mum wanted me to stay. She didn’t want an empty house but I couldn’t let them support me forever. I was an adult now.

  Slowly, I’d let the world back in.

  And, as I did, the thoughts of Alex turned black. Ins
tead of wanting him to redeem himself, I had one motivation only — and that was revenge.

  I’d not even had an idea about how to go about finding him. He’d fallen off the radar altogether. Pete and Steve hadn’t heard from him either. Every night after work, I’d go online and search for him.

  Dad had been obsessed with bringing him to justice for a while. He went to the police station and spoke them so many times. They said there was no evidence that Alex had even been drunk. That’d been wrong. People had seen him get behind the wheel. Pete said he’d told Alex not to drive. Alex was crazy drunk. Pete told him to leave the van behind and get a cab. They’d pick it up the next day.

  Alex hadn’t listened. He’d not wanted to leave all the gear behind. The other guys would’ve normally been in the van too but some chicks had invited them to a party. Alex and Jake had wanted to go home, though.

  “I should’ve gone with them,” Pete kept saying.

  “What good would that’ve done? You might be dead now too.”

  “I could’ve driven. I wasn’t as rat-faced as Alex.”

  Then he’d hang his head. I had no more words to reassure him. He’d started coming into the cafe where I worked late in the afternoon, wanting to talk about Jake. I wasn’t sure if it helped or if it just made things harder.

  Then we got talking about music. Pete wanted to start another band. I didn’t want to tell him that, without Alex and Jake, he’d get nowhere. They’d been the driving forces; the ones people would pay money to see.

  “You can play guitar,” he said to me one day.

  I laughed. “Not well.”

  “Don’t underestimate yourself, Dee. Anyway, we need you so we can call the band Dee Cups.”

  “Not funny.”

  I didn’t say anything that day but the idea grew in me. I’d never wanted to be part of the band. I’d been happy just watching the guys. But why not? Maybe something of Jake’s would stay alive if I played his music. When I’d cleaned his room, I’d found a bunch of notebooks with bits of songs. Nothing he’d played with the band, just scraps of songs he’d written himself. That could be a start.

  I grabbed Jake’s Fender from his room one night and took it back to my apartment. A few days later, I began mucking around with it.

  We started rehearsing together, and that stupid name ended up sticking because we couldn’t think of anything better and then we’d been talking to a guy at the pub who’d wanted to book us and we needed to come up with a name on the spot.

  There was another reason I took up the guitar. Even though Alex had disappeared, I never let up on trying to find him. One thing I knew; he’d not give up music. No one in the world had the drive to play that Alex did. Otherwise, his parent’s money would be enough to ensure he’d stay hidden forever. They always thought they could fix anything in this world by opening their wallets. They were the stiffest, sourest people I’d ever met in my life and I used to wonder how they’d ever had a son like Alex. He was all fluid motion and snaking hips. Everything about him hinted at sex, long before I even realised what that was. I’d thought he was different to them but, when the crunch came, he was happy to let them clean up the mess he’d made rather than face the consequences.

  Then, a few weeks ago, sweet mother of God. I’d found him. And now he was screwed. I’d mangle his life and put him through torture — and none of it undeserved. He thought he was so far above everyone else, that the rules of normal people didn’t apply to him. Well, I’d show him otherwise. My hate for that man sat like a solid lump in my chest, growing heavier every single day. They say time heals. It hadn’t for me. Every single day, that wound just got worse, turning septic and festering.

  I had the article from the music magazine folded in my pocket. They’d made him sound like such a big man, with his band and his rock club. It’d twisted the knife in my chest. I quit my job, packed up my stuff and headed to this town. I’d told Pete and our drummer, Ferdie, that I’d call them when I organised a gig. I hadn’t told Pete about Alex, not yet.

  So, I’d moved into this fleabag room a few days ago. Nothing but a bed with a lumpy mattress and a wardrobe covered with faded stickers. In the corner, there was a rust-stained sink and a shared bathroom down the hall. I didn’t have money to waste and I didn’t want to dip too much into my Revenge Fund.

  During that time, I’d kept a low profile, while gathering intel. I’d even gone into the bar one night, my hair tucked up in a cap and a big coat with the collar pulled up. I’d sat at a table in the corner, watching and waiting. Alex hadn’t appeared but the staff obviously knew him well. I heard his name come in conversation a few times and people laughing.

  One of the things I overheard was that Alex would be playing soon. It wasn’t going to be heavily advertised but he’d be in one of the bands playing upstairs.

  I’d also sent in our demo to score a gig. I’d changed the bio to take out any details to link me to Alex. I couldn’t wait until Pete and Ferdie got to town, I had to attack now.

  Tonight was the night he’d be playing at the club. The perfect moment to announce my arrival in his life. I wanted to see him flustered and sweating in his jocks. The first showdown. My chance to catch him off-guard. Once I’d done that, I’d be able to judge the best way to grind him down.

  I gave my hair a final brush then touched up my lipstick. High voltage red. This was my game face. I had to be perfect. The outfit had to be perfect, my face too. I was preparing for battle. I’d changed a lot in the last few years since I’d seen him. That was part of the plan. I wanted to look like a woman when he laid eyes on me, not like a little girl.

  My skin tight dress hung in the closet of this bare-bones hotel room. I squeezed myself into it, then added a studded belt and my biker boots.

  Over the years, I’d learnt exactly the type of girl that Alex went for and I’d painstakingly turned myself into her. My honey blond hair was now platinum white. My eyes were lined into smoky sexuality. The dress caressed my curves. I topped it all with a leather jacket. Tough rock chick with a touch of class, that was exactly his type.

  My stomach churned with nerves at seeing him again. I’d wasted years of my life being in love with that man, my entire teen years when he’d shone like a god. I’d been barely able to talk to him, lucky to stammer out a few words. I’d kept notebooks filled with observations about Alex. I’d heard him say that he loved smart girls so I’d study my guts out. Then he’d say he liked girls who pouted and I’d spend all my time pouting the mirror. When the band had rehearsal, I’d put on my best outfit and a ton of makeup and walk up and down the driveway so he’d see me from the garage. Then he’d say hi and I’d run inside.

  I tried to settle my nerves. There’d be no trace of my sadness in my face or the way I walked.

  Ice cold. That was me now.

  Before I walked out the door, I got the worn photo out of my bag.

  “I’ll sort this out, Jake”, I said. “I’ll get justice for you.”

  Even in the few years, the photo had yellowed and faded. I had a fuckton of photos on my phone that stayed as fresh as the day I’d taken them but this solid object meant more to me than any of them. As it changed, my connection deepened.

  The faded image of Jake grinned back at me. His sandy hair flopped down in his eyes, which glimmered with mischief, and his cheeks dimpled. Jake was like the sunshine and Alex had been darkness. Yin and yang. That’s what had drawn them together. That’s what had made them amazing on stage. Now, Jake was gone and there was just Alex.

  This was war and I had no intention of being a casualty.

  Alex

  How was I supposed to finish the set after Jackson had his fun? Everyone was filled with gooey, mushy feelings. I’d agreed to him playing, but that proposal stuff had been a shock to me. It’d taken the thunder right out of my performance.

  Jackson had come to me about a week ago saying he wanted to get up and play.

  “Not a whole set, just one song. Just to prove I can do i
t.”

  It’d be the first time he’d played live for years, since an accident had damaged the nerves in his hand. You can’t say no to something like that. The man was a rock legend. He’d been my idol. Of course I’d let him get up and play. The idea exploded in my head. I wanted to pump it up, make a big event of it, but Jackson said to keep it quiet.

  “What if I make a total dick of myself? And I want it to be a surprise for Gina.”

  It’d been a surprise for Gina, all right. Not only had Jackson got up on stage and played his song, he’d finished it off by asking her to marry him. Of course, she’d said “yes”. That’s when the entire crowd melted with the mushiness of it. I saw one regular, a cynical old bastard, wipe a tear from his eye. Hell, if he’d planned to do that, he could’ve got up at the end of the night so I didn’t have to follow up on it.

  I went into the next song but the magic was gone. The song was too loud, too edgy. No one wanted that. They wanted to continue with their cloud of emotion. Anger and pain wasn’t going to win them over. It was the wrong song for the night. When we finished, I turned to the guys.

  “Change of set,” I said. “I’ll do this one solo.”

  A slow ballad was much more to the crowd’s taste. I’d not rehearsed this song for a while but it was in keeping with the atmosphere. I’d soon have them back where I wanted them.

  Gina and Jackson stood to the side of the stage, all glowing with love. People kept coming up to congratulate them. It was as though it was their night, not mine. I didn’t want to be bitter or selfish, but it was awful timing.

  I sang. I ignored them and sang.

  When I got to the chorus, I sensed a change in the atmosphere. I looked up. Someone pushed their way through the crowd. That wasn’t so unusual but the energy radiating from her actually made people cower away. A path cleared in front of her and had taken all the focus off me. Despite her drop-dead gorgeousness, she had an aura of sorrow and pain, more than most people wanted to deal with. There was something familiar about her but I was sure if I’d ever met that woman, I’d never forget her.