Chapter 15
Phoenix
Holy shit, I think the worst has happened; I’ve morphed into my Volvo driving, golf playing, family barbecues on the lawn while talking business, brother-in-law! I’ll have to throw out my T-shirts and jeans and replace them with buttons-downs, chinos, and V-neck sweaters. Trade in my bike for a hatchback from the local car dealer, set up a 401k, and bank accounts for my future children because my heart has broken out of its usual barriers to emotion beyond anger and is focusing solely on the woman who is still taking up residency inside of my room. The same room that hasn’t changed much since I was an angry teenager. There was little point, considering up until this now, I’ve pretty much remained an angry man.
However, when I look at Jess lying against the white cotton sheets of my bed, her black hair fanned out over the pillow, I can’t help sinking more into that role and conceding to the fact that she’s worth it. She’s more than worth it. She’s even worth the crap I’ll get off Lou when I admit I’ve fallen hook, line, and sinker. Jake might get a punch to the face if he tries it on, but I will make an effort to rein it in for Jess’ sake. He is her brother; I can admit that. The guy earned that right during all the years he took care of her.
“Morning,” her voice shocks me as I lie here trying not to stare at her.
“Hey,” I reply and shuffle down to take hold of her beautiful body, “you ok?”
“Mm,” she mumbles against my chest, “you?”
“That depends,” I begin, pausing for effect, “if I touch you whenever I want, will it freak you out?”
“No,” she giggles, and I smile with relief.
“Even if we’re around people?”
“The people would freak me out whether you touch me or not,” she says as she cradles her hand against my face.
“Will you come out with me today?”
“Where are we going?” she asks, and I can see a hint of fear returning to her beautiful features.
“I thought I’d take you to my sister’s place; they live near the ocean,” I tell her. “On a secluded beach, and it’s a weekday. The only person you’ll come across is Lou.”
“You promise?” she asks, and I kiss her as a reassurance of my words. “Then…ok.”
“One more question,” I tease, to which she rolls her eyes, “if you feel like you want to freak out, you’ll tell me, right?”
“I’ll try.”
She smiles and reaches up to kiss me; a kiss that has her pulling me back with her to the mattress. My hand reaches around to her hip, and this time, when I sink inside of her, I make love to her slow and tender.
_____
Jessie
It wasn’t until we were on a long stretch of road where the traffic was restricted to the odd truck or another motorbike, that I felt safe enough to close my eyes and rest against Warren’s back. Wrapped around his body, I feel strong, like I’m part of him and nothing can break me. When I’m like this with him, I am the phoenix rising out of the flames, forever etched in his skin. I think he feels it too. My boundaries are moving and it’s exciting and terrifying all at the same time. I have been fearing for myself all these years, but the thought of losing the man in front of me is suddenly moving in with it.
When we finally pull up outside of a seaside home, or mansion should I say, I am relieved to see there are no other houses in the near vicinity. It’s sheltered, sunny, and full of bright, colorful flowers. It’s a far cry from the rainy, seaside village in which I grew up. For now, I feel safe here. However just as I begin to feel ok, the front door bursts open and a huge, yellow, hairy dog comes bounding up to us, causing me to yelp and hide behind Warren. The thing is relentless, however, and keeps on jumping up at Warren with its tongue slopping all over the place.
“God, Stella, get your butt back here!” someone with an English accent shouts out to who I assume is the dog. Meanwhile, I’m still clinging onto Warren’s shirt with white-knuckle force. “Don’t worry, she won’t hurt you; she’s all tongue and bottom!”
“Hey, Jess, you freaking out?” Warren whispers to me as he seems to try and calm the dog down by stroking it. I can’t answer, so I simply nod against his back. “Ok, baby, just breathe, I know this dog. She’s totally harmless…and a bit stupid.”
“Hey, Phoenix,” the English voice says in a friendly way, but I still cling on for my life. “I’m so sorry, she’s just excited to see new people.”
“It’s ok, Iz, Jess just isn’t used to animals, or people for that matter,” he says, and I sigh with embarrassment.
“Jess?” the girl says to me gently, and I force myself to open one eye. “Hi, I’m Izzy.”
“Hello,” I just about manage to whisper. I can’t make her out properly but from what I can see, she looks normal enough. Plus, she’s smiling, but not so wide it’s unnerving.
“I’m Lou and Daniel’s friend,” she continues, so I open my other eye. “I also like to ask Phoenix awkward questions on the rare occasions I see him. But don’t worry, I won’t do that today. If you want, I can take Stella home.”
“You don’t have to,” I reply, “but—"
“How about I put her on her lead until you feel a little more comfortable?” she asks, making me feel even more ashamed for causing so much trouble. Still, I nod my head. “Cool, ok. Come on, waggy butt.”
She pulls the dog away and it soon falls into trotting beside her, to the point where I feel like I can finally let go of Warren’s shirt. He remains completely still and waits for me to come out of hiding before moving or saying anything. Once I move, he gently takes hold of my hand and kisses it.
“You ok?” Again, I simply nod. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so blunt before. Izzy’s just a no-nonsense kind of person. She had a bad start in life too. She’s ok, Jess.”
When I nod one more time, he takes hold of my hand and leads me toward the front door where his sister has just appeared with a warm smile for the both of us. I grip his hand, seeking strength from it, for I still fear other people, even if she is related to the man beside me.
“Hey, big brother,” she says and gifts him with a kiss on the cheek. “Jess, how are you?”
“Ok,” I murmur.
“Sorry about Stella, I forget some people don’t like dogs,” she says as she shakes her head on the way inside. “Phoenix had a dog when we were little, did he tell you?”
“No—"
“Doesn’t surprise me, he still gets emotional over that poor mutt,” she continues, cutting me off as she talks, “loved that thing more than air!”
“Lou,” Warren laughs at her, “do you ever draw breath?”
“Sorry,” she says, pausing to smile sheepishly at me. “My mouth tends to run away from me.”
“It’s ok, sis,” Warren says and awkwardly brushes back some stray hairs away from her face, “shows you’re happy. Lou used to be so quiet, so withdrawn from the world, she was like…” He looks at me with a wince. “Never mind.”
I shake my head but choose to remain silent. This was always my defense system, and for the six years I was living with a psychopath, it more or less worked. I was never struck, assaulted, or sexually abused in that house. But I was held against my will. For years.
We’re led out to a patio on the beachfront, and I have to admit it is breathtakingly beautiful. Izzy is already sitting at a table with her dog on a lead, even though she’s not really holding onto it that tightly. However, it is on its back with its tongue hanging out the side of its mouth and its belly on show. She catches me staring with a grace of a smile because I can admit it looks more ridiculous than ferocious.
“This is Stella at her scariest,” she says as she shakes her head. “Hey, Stella, quick! There are murderers, thieves, and monsters coming!” She all but shouts. We turn to look at the dog who merely flaps its tail half-heartedly before continuing to lie on her back. “See, she’s cool, I promise.”
“H-how old is she?” I ask.
“Three,” she replies with a casual shrug of her shoulder, “she’s been this way since we picked her up as a lanky puppy. Her original owner saved her from a puppy farm but was then sent overseas with the army, so they rehomed her. She’s been my rock ever since. Do you wanna stroke her?”
“I-I don’t know,” I mumble as I edge closer, not even realizing the fact that I’ve let go of Warren’s hand.
“I sometimes use her with some of my clients,” she continues talking as I take a nervous seat beside her. “I’m a school counsellor, but I also see people outside of work. They find Stella soothing. She’s actually got her dog therapist certificate.”
“Oh,” I murmur, looking at the silly dog who has now closed her eyes, so could well be going to sleep.
“You said she was your rock?” I venture as I find myself wanting to run my hand through her fur.
“She was, yes,” she replies with a smile that tells me she’s not worried about talking about it. “Well, her and my husband, Theo. But Stella never argues with me, so she marginally wins.”
“That’s good,” I reply, not really knowing what else to say to that.
“You’ve been through a lot, huh?” she turns to ask me, not in a pitying way, but in a matter-of-fact way. “I can relate. So can Lou. We should form a survivor’s club or something. Stella could be our ridiculous mascot.”
“What happened to you?” I blurt out before I can even stop myself. She falters for a moment, and I want to run and hide. I even look over at the door for my quickest escape route, but she answers before I can move.
“It’s ok, you don’t need to run to him,” she says with a smile, jutting her chin out toward Warren, “I don’t mind talking about it, and he’ll rescue you when he thinks you need it. I think you’ve found your own rock with that one.” I relax a little and nod my head in agreement. “A lot of things happened, stuff that no one should have to go through. It took me a long time to realize I didn’t deserve what happened to me. Lou’s the same. When a man rapes you, a little part of you always questions whether it was your fault, but it never is, Jess, never.”
“I-I wasn’t raped,” I mumble, almost feeling ashamed of the fact.
“But something was taken from you, wasn’t it?” she says with concern.
“Yes,” I whisper as I look at my hands and begin to fidget with a piece of loose cotton. “But sometimes, I feel like I don’t deserve to feel as bad as I do. I was never physically hurt, never struck, never sexually abused; he never even lost his temper with me. I didn’t have it that bad, did I?”
“You feel guilty for hurting as much as you do?” she asks.
“Sometimes,” I admit. “When they first questioned me, it felt like I was a fraud. They made me feel like I had stayed there of my own free will. They all kept asking me, ‘Why didn’t you try and run?’ And when I looked at my parents, I could tell…I could tell they wanted to ask me the same thing. Why didn’t I run? Why didn’t I scream? Why hadn’t I done what Tammy had done and tried to get help? Surely, I asked to be kept for so long, didn’t I?”
“I understand,” she says as she turns back to face the ocean, “I lived with the abuse for years and never said anything. For a long time, I didn’t know why. Why did I not say anything?”
“When did you?” I ask, so desperately wanting to know the answer.
“When I found someone who I knew would listen; someone who I finally felt safe with,” she says, now looking back at me with a smile that asks for nothing. “Fear is a powerful thing. And what I feared more than anything, was finally telling someone what was going on, only to have that someone, whoever it was, not believe me. For someone to ignore all the pain you’ve been going through and to somehow validate that abuse by calling you a liar. I feared that more than anything else.”
“They asked me what he did to me. Did he hurt me in any way? Did he rape me? Sexually abuse me. And when I said no, one of them sighed,” I tell her, now with tears rolling down my cheeks. “I felt ashamed, as if I had caused all this pain to everyone when all along I had been taken care of. Like I didn’t deserve to feel the way I did; that my tears were fake. They looked at me like I’d merely been to some sort of holiday camp while my parents had been put through hell.”
“Did they offer you counseling?”
“I went to two sessions,” I admit, “but I’d already given up.”
“Perhaps it was just too soon,” she suggests; she’s probably right. “They never found him, did they?”
“I see him sometimes,” I admit as I look at the waves rolling onto the shore, “in the shadows, hiding, and waiting for me.”
“Does it scare you?”
“All the time,” I reply honestly, “but not since I came here. My mind seems to have left him back at my childhood house.”
“That makes sense, Jess.”
“Do you think it’s because of Warren?”
“Not entirely,” she says with a contented sigh, “you’re not in control here, someone else is. In your mind, your fear doesn’t work here. It’s no longer the thing keeping the monsters at bay because you’ve relinquished that control to someone else, so they are keeping him away. Does that make sense?”
“A little,” I agree.
“I think you’ve scored yourself another rock,” she says with a wink, then looks down to where I thought my hand was resting on the arm of the chair. But when I look there myself, I see it isn’t the chair at all, it’s a warm, furry ear belonging to one dopey-looking dog with warm brown eyes and an understanding expression on her face. I reward her softness with a proper rub behind her ear which encourages her to moan with appreciation. I guess, she’s right, the lovable hound has won me over.
“You’ve also got someone to talk to whenever you want, Jess,” she says and I release a sob of happiness, or at least something close to it. “I mean it.”
____
Something changes after that day and I become someone else, someone happy. I let Warren push my boundaries with each passing day. We talk, we laugh, we go out further and further on his bike, we kiss, and we make love. I ease his pain when he dreams of his mother, and he holds me tight at night, so I know I’m safe. The wall of a man covered in tattoos, who was once an assassin hired to kill me, has become my white knight. And the girl who was lost, living in terror, and who wouldn’t venture outside of her own front door, has become his.
So, here we are, lying lazily on a blanket out in the wide-open space, having just made love out in the fresh air, falling into mindless bliss with one another. But even after a week of talking about everything and nothing, I still want to know so much more.
“Who was the song about?” I ask, suddenly remembering his beautiful playing.
“What song?” he replies lazily as he casts his arm over his eyes. He’s lying fully naked beneath the tree we just made love under. He smiles every now and then as I continue to trace my finger over his tattoos, which has fast become one of my favorite pastimes.
“The only one you’ve ever sung in front of me,” I answer sassily at the same time as poking him for being deliberately obtuse.
“My mom,” he eventually replies; his answer makes the lyrics all the sadder. “The school counselor knew I was ok with a guitar so encouraged me to use it as an outlet. “I only wrote the one song. I guess that was painful enough.”
“Ok?! You sound like you’re more than ok with a guitar.”
He laughs as he takes hold of me and pulls me over him so I can wrap my legs around his waist. He begins delivering kisses to my exposed skin, his engorged length rubbing so deliciously against me.
“You don’t tan, do you?” he mutters, teasing me and then laughing when I shake my head with a goofy smile. I love flirting with him like this, it makes me feel so…normal and care-free. It does the impossible; it makes me forget I ever had the past that I did.
“You saw where I lived, and besides,” I tell him with a now serious expression, “Jake and I weren’t allowed outside all that much.”
He strokes my arm with a sympathetic expression, one that makes me want to shake the sudden change in atmosphere away. I don’t want to be sad anymore, I want to stay happy with him in my arms. I lean down and begin to kiss him, turning it lustful and urgent within seconds. His hands reach for my face to pull me in closer.
“You’re in charge, Jess,” he whispers between kisses, “fuck me like you want to.”
I smile as I shimmy down to rub myself the way I want to along his hardness, making me wet and wanting for him. He flips me over so I am sitting right on top of him, watching him, watching me, and I feel so confident. More confident than I ever have been before. His hands reach up for my breasts, but I push them down before he can even touch them. He feigns shock before smiling again.
“You said I was in charge,” I whisper as I pull up my skirt and slide slowly on top of him. The sensation has me gasping for the rush and the need to lose myself in him. He bites his lip as he leans back and waits, being so patient for what it is I need to do. Even when I sit here not moving or saying anything, just feeling the connection between us, he says nothing.
“I want...” I tell him as I begin to circle my hips on top of him, causing his mouth to drop open in what looks like rapture. I know; I feel it too.
“You want…?” he gasps.
“I want a life…” I tell him as I begin to move on top of him, picking up speed and intensity.
“Yes…?” he encourages me as his hips begin to circle against mine too.
“…with you!”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, something falls over us and we both start thrusting against one another, chasing that high together. His hands grab hold of my ass and begin to move me back and forth while I reach up high, relinquishing my grip on him completely. I can tell he wants to turn us over so he can take control, but he doesn’t. He lets me stay in charge the whole time; he knows I need this with him.
“I can’t hold on, baby,” he pants, “I have no restraint with you.”
“Touch me,” I beg, and he does. His thumb finds my sweet spot and begins to circle it as his hardness moves inside of me. It’s so intense that it doesn’t take long before I release with him, right here beneath the branches of this tree. And when the high subsides, I fall onto his chest and stay there for so long, the sun is beginning to set by the time we come apart.
“Jess,” he whispers so I turn to look at him, “I love you.”
His words undo me, and tears suddenly begin falling from my eyes. He smiles softly and begins kissing them away from my flushed cheeks.
“Is that ok?” he eventually asks, laughing at me as he rubs away the remaining moisture from my cheeks. To begin with, I simply nod, because it’s more than ok; it’s everything.
“I love you,” I whisper back.