House of Cards (7 page)

***Daxton***

I’m feeling so much better that I begged Krissi to get me out of the house. I need to stretch my legs and clear my head. She insists that we take it easy, but I am feeling fuckin’ great in comparison to last week and am ready to just let loose. Some relaxation could really do me good right now. I’m all caught up in my thoughts, none of which are good ones. Krissi and I haven’t been hitting it off lately as well as I thought we would. I know we had lots of issues before the accident, but I was hoping this would be an eye opener for the both of us. Generally, near death does that to people. I still feel this huge disconnect, though. Our chemistry is all fucked up and I can’t figure out what to do to make it any better. I really wanted to just go out with the boys, but I knew Krissi would kill me if I spent any time away from her. She’s been super clingy lately... way more than she’s ever been. Before, she liked her attention, but on her time.  Apparently her time is all the god damn time now - she’s smothering me and I can’t escape.

Unfortunately I am not
ready to go shred the guitar on stage or party, so I settle for a trip to the mall instead. Krissi is down for the idea, the woman loves to shop. As much as I’m not loving how pitiful my life has become in such a short amount of time, I’m glad to be out of the house. Oh, and alive. Yeah, I guess I can’t really forget that important detail. It sucks that I can’t feel comfortable talking about how much I hate not being able to do things on my own. I can barely take a shit without someone right there asking me if I need them to wipe for me but I’m trying to be thankful and all that. So when I talk about how annoyed I’m getting I just sound like a dick. Nobody understands unless they’ve been in a similar situation. It’s hard to put yourself in someone else’s shoes… that is, in a shitty situation, when you are also knee deep in shit yourself.

I can see gawking eyes following me throughout every store that we enter. It is really unnerving and I want nothing more than to flip them all the bird. The surgeons had to shave my hair to release some of the pressure off my brain when I was laid up in the hospital and now I look like a nerd with uneven shaved hair and a huge scar taking permanent residence on the back of my head. I hate having short hair, nothing bothers me more. I wasn’t a metro-sexual by any means, but I like the ladies running their hands through my hair; it gave them something to grip onto while they were screaming my name. Now people aren’t staring at me in the good way. Oh no, it’s pity in their eyes. I can feel it. I’ve never been self-conscious in my entire life before now and it fucking sucks.

Krissi digs
her nails into my upper arm hard, shaking me from my thoughts. I have had a tendency to be very ADHD lately, my mind constantly scrambling, trying to grip onto any shred of a memory that it can. 

“Let’s go in t
hat store, handsome." She points her finger to some chick store that has black lacey lingerie in the window.

"I’ll let you pick me out something real sexy and we can pla
y later,” she practically purrs into my ear. My lower region is starting to stand at attention, but the rest of my body was rioting.  It drives me nuts that my lower brain and upper brain aren’t in sync when it comes to her.

She
attempts to drag me into the store, but I dig my feet into the tile. I want no part in it. Victoria could save her secret for someone else - I’m just not in the mood. Things between Krissi and I haven’t been easy since the accident. As much as my memories are telling me that I love her, my heart is drumming to a completely different beat. She has stripped naked for me on more than one occasion now, but we still haven’t done anything. I’ve left her disappointed and unsatisfied each time. I fucking hate that I’m not turned on by my girl. It’s like that part of me has ran away and died somewhere.  I honestly feel like less of a man when I can’t get it up fully. Sure, I get hard. What kind of guy wouldn’t? Krissi is fucking sexy, there are zero doubts in my mind about that, but when she starts to get near me, I deflate. My ego goes right along with my man downstairs. I get cranky and moody. I have to down sleeping pills just to pass the fuck out and forget about the shame I feel.

I’ve been trying to convince myself that
it’s got something to do with the accident and, lucky for me, Krissi hasn’t gotten too pissed about it yet. I’ve also had thoughts that it very well could have something to do with the chick from the hospital. For some reason, I haven’t been able to get the girl off my mind. She looks nothing like my usual - too innocent for me, too blonde, too bright. But she’s in my dreams. I hear her voice almost every night. I definitely can’t let Krissi in on that little tidbit, though. She’ll cut my balls off for sure. She’s a jealous one and she plays fucking dirty.

I
give her a swift kiss on the cheek and reach in my pocket to pull out my wallet. I hand her my debit card and she quickly snatches it from my grasp. 

“Here, pick out whatever you want. Anything will look good on you. I’m going to chill out here for a while if you don’t mind. “ 

“That’s alright, love. You wait right here, I won’t be long.” She gives me a weak smile and turns around to head into the store. I feel a tad bit bad that I have become a constant let down to her lately, but there’s not shit I can do about it. Something just feels off - it’s just not right. I know one thing for sure, if things don’t get better soon, I’m going to have to let her know what’s up. It’s not fair for her and its not fair for me to be in a relationship just because of the guilt that we feel after my accident. I am honestly struggling with not calling it off right now, but I feel like I owe it to her to put in more work than what I have been able to lately. I’ve been focusing more on me and getting my memory back than anything else. Krissi has been doing the best she can to help me and be patient with me. I know that.

I sit
out on the bench for a while before getting up and walking around. My eyes meet a huge brightly lit sign and my body wills itself forward. I have not been in a toy store since I was small. When my mom took off, my childhood left with her. I had to grow up and be a big man, after crying for a couple of weeks first. Shape up or ship out, I taught myself. I feel a strange pull into the store, so I follow my gut instinct. I’m searching my surroundings at all of the toys. I wish they made some of these things when I was younger - we mostly made our own fun.

I am
busy looking around and not paying any attention, when a blonde blur runs smack dab into my leg and falls over. I hurriedly reach down and help her up, spotting a tall brunette running behind her shouting. 

"Abby, you can't run off on me like that! Your Mom will kick my butt if anything happens to you!" She is completely out of breath and red faced. She finally catches up to the little girl, but has her head down between her knees. I can’t imagine ever having kids, it seems like they can be a real handful. I’m not sure if I have the patience for it. Especially not lately. I think Krissi and I will start with a small pet or something. I’m not sure she’s mother material anyway.

When the brunette finally lifts
her eyes to meet my face, shock couldn’t possibly have been more obvious. She looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place her. I try not to get frustrated about it because, frankly, it’s been happening a lot. I sometimes think I am just overworking my brain too much. I am trying to force myself to remember things that probably never fucking happened. It’s like I’m creating this story line in my head and trying to fit these pieces together like a puzzle that just doesn’t exist; it makes my fucking head hurt.

It’s then that I realize the little girl has wrapped herself firmly around my leg, hugging it with all of her might. She’s pretty damn strong, too, for such a small little girl.  

Finally, the brunette gulps loudly and speaks. "Hum, Abby...we need to go honey." She attempts to grab the little girl by the arm and lightly pull her away, but the blonde won’t budge. She is in this for the long haul. I don’t try to help at first, curious as to how this will play out. This is honestly the most fun I’ve had in a while. This little girl is resilient; I bet her parents are proud. 

"NO!" She screams and begins to cry. I can hardly stand the sound of it. Not because it’s annoying or anything like that, but it actually kind of breaks my heart. I’ve never really gave too much of a shit about kids before but this little girl is pulling on my heart strings. I want to wrap the little girl in my arms, but I know that would be pretty fuckin' weird coming from a stranger. So, instead, I decide to try and help the poor exhausted brunette. I attempt to peel the little girl’s arms from my leg to no avail. I don’t get discouraged, though. I regroup and try another route. I decide to lower myself to eye level. I think that when dealing with a small child, it’s less frightening for them if you get down to their level. I slowly get down on one knee. Her eyes instantly find mine; they stand out to me and a small glimmer of a memory tries to enter my mind, but quickly fades. Those eyes, so familiar.

"Is this woman your friend?" I ask and point to the breathless brunette that still continues to stare at me, mouth agape. A normal person would have asked if she was a parent, but something is telling me in my gut she isn’t. The little girl doesn’t listen to her worth a damn, for starters, and secondly, they look nothing alike. I guess that can happen with parents though. She may look more like her dad, who knows.

"She's my Auntie." Her little voice speaks, finally starting to calm down. She dries her tears on the back of her hand and looks at me expectantly. I’m assuming that’s just because I’m an adult and adults supposedly have all the answers. If only she knew that I am in more of a child mentality lately than that of an adult. But, for dealing with a child for my first time, I’m doing a damn good job. I proceed in operation get-little-girl-off-my-leg.

"Well then it's okay. You can go with her. You shouldn't talk to strangers anyway, I’m sure your Mommy taught you that." I slowly stand back up. The little girl lets go, tears welling up again in her eyes. I’m suddenly feeling very weird about this whole situation. I can’t help but wonder why the brunette isn’t taking this opportunity to scoop the kid up and get out of here. There are so many weirdos out there; I wouldn't let my kid out of my sight for even a minute. Neither one of them know me from Adam. I must really have an easily trusting demeanor about me or something.

              The little girl begins to cry even harder - she actually goes into full meltdown mode in the middle of the store.

"But...but...you're no stranger...you're my Daddy!" She whispers forcefully in a barely audible voice. She sticks her little lip out in a pout and it’s probably one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. For a split second, I wish I was her Daddy. I wish that she’d stop crying. I’d do just about anything to get rid of that sad little pout.

The brunette
finally takes a chance and scoops the little girl into her arms, shushing her as she does. She hurriedly rushes from the store without taking a second glance backward; she doesn’t thank me for helping or give me their names. She just takes off and I’m left feeling more confused than I have been in weeks, and that’s really saying a lot considering all the bullshit that’s been happening. Deja-vu has never been something that I’ve considered as a real entity, but now I’m reconsidering. I’m going to have to look a little more into that concept when I get home. At least that will distract me from my mind for a while. I need a good escape.  I’m not sure how much time has elapsed, but, here I am, standing as still as a statue, staring into the direction of their wake. I literally have no idea at this point about the wave that is about to crash in on me.

Chapter 12
: What is real?

Daxton
’s POV

When I can finally will myself to move and pick my jaw up off the ground, I take full advantage. I walk out of the toy store and sit on the closest bench. I wait for Krissi to come out and make up an excuse about not feeling well and needing to go home. I’m not sure what it is, but dread is consuming my entire being and I can’t seem to kick the feeling. She understands and helps me to the car like I’m a child. I don’t try and fight her on the issue; I just get in and kick my seat back. She drives us home.
Us. Home
. It doesn’t even sound right when I think it.

When we arrive, I rush from the car and into the house without looking back. I pace the living room, practically pulling my hair out trying to remember any thoughts that I am forgetting. I still get a whole lot of fucking nothing. I can’t understand any of this shit. I know kids say some weird stuff sometimes, but something felt familiar when that girl called me
‘Daddy.’ Like my heart began to beat and butterflies flew into my stomach. Something about it just felt…
right
. I can’t really explain it. When the brunette picked up the little girl, I instantly felt like I needed to be the one to do that - to protect and comfort her. It’s weird as fuck, I know. My mind’s racing.

Krissi sits down in the living room, her head in her hands. I try to get a grip on my raging emotions and go to sit next to her. This isn’t really fair to her
, that I’m stringing her along for the ride, when it’s possible I may crash and burn at any second. I look over at her and she slowly looks up and returns my glare. I can tell by the tears dripping slowly down her red cheeks that she just knows what I’m going to say.

“This…it’s just not fair to you
,” I slowly begin. She holds a hand up, right before vicious sobs rack her small frame. I can’t even try to remedy the situation, bring myself to comfort her and tell her that shit is going to be okay, because it’s not. This all just isn’t right. I can’t even bring myself to be intimate with the girl for fucks sake. It’s nothing physical because God knows the girl is fucking beautiful, but it something more. Something deep inside of me screams and won’t let it go whenever I get close to touching her.

“Daxton…I need to tell you something
,” she responds quietly. I reach over to touch her hand that is shaking like a leaf, but she slowly draws it against herself. I feel instant rejection, but I can’t say I blame her. I’m sure she’s been feeling this vibe from me for a while now.

“I haven’t been telling you the truth
,” she says in a small voice, one that sounds nothing like the vibrant, cocky Krissi that I’m used to. Worry fills me and my thoughts run rampant. It’s got to be something pretty fucking serious for her to look so sad.

“The truth about what
, Krissi?” I question. I reach over to wipe the tears from her eyes, but again she pulls away. “It’s okay…I won’t be mad. You can tell me anything, pretty girl.” I try to stay calm. To soothe her because that’s just the kind of guy I am. I’ve always been the one trying to protect everyone else and shielding the world from how I’m really feeling and what I’m really thinking. Since the accident, it’s been hard for me to keep both parts of myself up without completely crumbling. As much as I hate to admit it, in life you need someone to bitch to, to rely on, and to protect you with the same enthusiasm that you use to protect them. I don’t know that I can remember a time when Krissi has been able to be that other half for me. I love her, her personality, her drive. I don’t think that will ever change, but it feels more like a friendship kind of love and she deserves more.

Her voices wavers when she initially starts, so she takes a deep breath to calm herself before starting again. “I…we…we broke up.” I look at her indifferently. We’ve broken up many times before
, not shit about that surprises me. We are one of those couples that break up every other day over the stupidest shit. I nod my head and urge her to continue.

“You are with someone else
, Daxton. She was at the hospital the day you were in the accident. In fact, she was there every single day until you woke up.” She stops and throws a hand over her heart. I am in shock. I know exactly who she’s talking about. My angel. I knew that I recognized her voice. It was the one that pulled me from my darkness. I feel like the biggest jackass on the planet right now.

“And…us? We broke up…like for good? When?” Questions begin to tumble out of my mouth with
incredible speed. I just want to know the truth. I feel like I’m the pit of everyone’s fucking joke.

“Shortly after your dad passed away. Something happened…something bad. I fucked up
. You didn’t deserve it…but the selfish part of me thought that when you woke up from the hospital asking for me, that I could fix it. I could make you forget about it, well, if you ever got your memory back, and I could make you love me again. I had this delusion that the only reason we broke up was because of my mistake and had it not been for that, we would have been married by now; you and me against the world, like we had planned when we were young. Now I see…we were never meant to be. Not for the long haul.” I raise my hand to silence her. I don’t know how much more of this I can hear. The conviction in her voice tells me that she knows a lot more than I do about my situation. That in itself is enough to drive me fucking mad. True to Krissi fashion, she doesn’t give a fuck that I attempt to silence her. She takes another calming inhale and starts again.

“You and
she belong together. She does shit for you that I’ll never be able to - I’ve heard that from both your family and your friends. They pretty much hate me right now and I understand it, but I couldn’t miss taking this chance. I couldn’t stop myself from this opportunity to temporarily erase the past and just see… but the spark between us is gone. It’s fucked up for me to keep playing this charade for you in hopes that you will love me the way that I crave. I realize now that you can’t. Your heart belongs to someone else. It fucking kills me to the core to admit that, though.” She attempts to laugh, anything to get the tears that haven’t stopped streaming down her face since she began talking to stop. She’s never been the type of girl to show pain. She usually just grins and bares it, not wanting her confidence to be outwardly diminished. Confusion is still gripping me hard, but I smile anyway. Not one that reaches fully to my eyes. Just a small, sad smile - one that says ‘goodbye.’

“I hope that your memory returns to you
, Dax. I really wish all the best for you. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I did this to you…to her. I promise to stay away.” She said the last phrase with as much conviction as her shaky voice would allow. I couldn’t tell her to stay. I couldn’t ask her to still be a part of my life. I needed to figure myself out again. I needed the truth and now I know what I’ve been feeling in my heart all along, that she is not a part of the plan. No more words are exchanged between the two of us. I stand up and she follows suit. I give her one of my hugs, not letting it linger. When we part, I grab my acoustic and walk out the front door without turning back. I know that she needs to collect her things and I don’t want to get in her way. I just need some fresh air, so I walk. I go to the only place that makes me feel fully alive; a place where I can breathe again.

When I reach the dock, I stare out into the water. It would be so easy to sink down inside of it and let myself go. To succumb to the internal darkness that is bubbling to the surface. I’ve tried to stay as calm and cool as possible throughout all this bullshit
but I’m only one person. I can’t carry the weight of the world on my shoulders anymore. It seems like no matter what decision that I make in life, someone is going to be hurt by it in the end.

I
’m beyond confused. I don’t know how the fuck to feel, what the hell to do, or who the fuck to talk to it about. Even though she told me everything, I am having such a hard time hating her like one would think I should. Maybe it’s because I already hated her at one point and those feelings have long disappeared. I still haven’t gone to see the angel girl and tell her that I know the truth. Mainly because my memory still hasn’t returned and this is all just hearsay, but also a small part of me is shaking in my boots, fuckin' afraid.

I know I need to man up, but things may never be the same as everyone is telling me they
were and I don’t want to lead her down that pathway. Picking her up just to let her down? Yeah, that's just not my style. Not to mention, the last time I saw her, I said some pretty messed up shit and treated her like she was some one night stand of mine. She probably doesn’t even want to see me. If my memory would just fucking return to me, life would be grand, but instead I’m just dragging on by.

I sit down at the end of the dock, allowing my feet to dangle over the water
, and lift my guitar easily into my arms. I’m still having a hard time playing and that’s tearing me up more than anything. There’s a song stuck in the back of my mind, but my brain won’t send the right signals to my useless fucking hands. So here I sit in the silent dull of the world, contemplating how in the hell to get my spark back.

I’m missing something and I just can’t remember what. I stand up quietly, raise my acoustic over my head
, and smash it into the dock, sending shards of shattered wood along it and into the water. I feel a little bit better now at least. I'd feel a lot better if life would stop kicking me in the ass though.

I try to contemplate how I should handle
all this. Should I just go to her and explain everything? Should I even take a risk at all or just leave well enough alone? It’s hard to know because as much as I wish I could, I can’t remember her and I don’t know what she would want me to do. It hits me almost instantly; an idea to just go back to my normal routine, of which I need to find out the real truth from my friends and family. If I can get back to what I was doing, where I was working, whom I was hanging out with prior to the accident then maybe I have a real chance of actually remembering. I am tired of this walk-on-egg-shells-around-Daxton bullshit. I don’t know who the fuck devised this plan, but it only makes me feel more stressed out. I know everyone means well, but it’s time for me to take the reins back. I stand up, brush off my ass, and set off walking in the direction of Grams. It’s there that I’ll find the answers that I need. She’ll help me. I think at this time that she’s the only one that can.