Chapter 18
Phoenix
As the paper scrunches up inside of my white-knuckled fists, I can’t help but let the first tears of grief and anger fall. Everything I thought I knew has just been blown to pieces and I both hate and miss my father even more. It feels cruel to find out such things when he isn’t even here to answer any of the thousands of questions now swimming around my head. The day he died gutted me just as much as when I was seven years old and had had to witness the moment when my mother was blown away to her death in the house fire. And all this time, it was the motherfucker who had had my Jess locked away with my…brother.
Shit! I don’t even know how to comprehend this information. So, in true Phoenix fashion, I lose it big time. I return to my primitive instincts and begin throwing and kicking everything that’s within reach. The living room, a space that suddenly feels much too small for my fury, becomes the foreground to my destruction.
“Warren?” a small, almost fearful voice whispers. When I turn to look at Jess, she sees the rage on my face and physically withers. It only frustrates me more to know that I’ve caused her to feel frightened, so without any words, I storm through into the busy bar so I can make my way to my bike. A good, hard ride across the desert is the only thing that’s going to stop me from losing my mind altogether.
Just before I reach the door, ignoring the looks of confusion on the regular’s faces, I hear someone who I can’t face seeing right now.
“Phoenix!” he shouts with anger in his voice, which sends my blood pressure to boiling point.
When I turn to face him, we look so alike I almost laugh at myself for not seeing it before. People seem to step back from us, as though we’re about to draw guns at dawn, their heads ping-ponging between us.
“Say something!” he snaps, as if unable to bear the tension. My ability to hold my tongue has always freaked out my hits, more than the actual torture of physical violence. The waiting, the anticipation, the needing to know what’s going through my fucked-up head. Usually, they’re best off not knowing.
I step forward, huff through my nose, but otherwise remain silent.
“SAY SOMETHING!” he eventually shouts.
I snarl, showing my teeth like a rabid dog, then step forward with my pointer finger out, getting ready to go to war with him. However, when I see Jess suddenly step out from the back, I hold my breath. She’s crying and holding onto her arm like she used to when she first arrived, when she was still terrified of me. Her eyes hold me for a moment or two before I can stand it no longer and flee through the entrance to the bar, slamming it so hard, the glass shatters.
I ride my bike so fast through the darkness, so recklessly along the dusty roads, I no longer know if I’ll survive the night.
_____
Jessie
When I see the glass shatter into a thousand tiny fragments, I run back to Louisa’s room and hide. I don’t want to face the anger and destruction; I don’t want to acknowledge the fact that my Warren is one of those men I need to fear. It’s too much for me to make sense of, so I retreat and hide away to protect my heart. It might only have been part full, but it was safe. When you have so little, you covet it like it’s the most precious thing in the world. I can’t risk losing what little I have, so here I shall stay until it’s safe to come out again.
“Jess?” I hear Jake calling as he comes through the door and into the back. “Jesus Christ, he’s broken everything! Jess!”
“Check the bedrooms and I’ll check out back,” Warren’s uncle says to him, “she could have run away.”
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Jake replies as he begins pacing across the tile floors outside. “She fears the outdoors. After all, it’s where she was taken.”
“Oh my God, what a mess!” The older man sighs. “I could kill your father again right now!”
“Don’t call him that,” Jake says sadly, “I’m not ready to call him that yet.”
I begin to let their words sink in, confusing me even more because the only father he can be talking about is Robert. Surely, the man I had met before wouldn’t refer to him as Jake’s father so insensitively. I’m trying to think it over when the door bursts open and the light streams through to reveal my hiding place. It brings back a torrent of painful memories and I begin trembling.
“Oh, Jess, oh, baby, no,” Jake says with concern seeping through each of his words. “Come here, baby.”
As soon as he wraps his arms around me, I release a flood of tears and begin whimpering all over him. Just like he used to, he rocks me gently and offers soothing sounds while letting me get it all out.
“I-is this to do with me?” I ask with a painful lump in my throat. “Did I do this?”
“No, no, no,” he says sadly, “in fact, this has to do with practically everyone but you. He loves you.”
“I thought I loved him too, but I…I’m scared. He scared me!”
“Jess,” the older man says as he inches closer, bending down to meet me eye to eye. I’m still not comfortable in his presence, but I brave it enough to look at him while he speaks. “In a moment, I will tell you, or better yet, show you why he is so distraught. But I need to know something first. Honey, you’ve been through a lifetime of pain, worse than that. No one should have had to go through what you and Jake did. You are one of the bravest people I know.”
“I don’t feel brave,” I admit as I sniff back my tears.
“I get that, but you are, trust me. You deserve to be scared, to guard yourself, and to not trust anyone, but I need to know if you’re gonna be brave enough to be there for him. He’s been through so much too and he’s hurting just as you are. Whereas you’ve guarded your life away from others, he’s tried to face fear head-on. Unfortunately, I think you’re going to have to trade places to get him through this. He’s going to push away too, after what he’s just found out, all us men tend to do that when we don’t know what else to do. The question is, are you going to let him, or are you going to push back?”
“What if I’m not strong enough?” I ask.
“If you look deep down, think back over all the awful shit you’ve survived already, I think you already know that you are.”
At first, I say nothing, just stare into those wise, soulful eyes of his, before eventually nodding my head.
“Show me.”
_____
Phoenix
By the time I arrive back at the bar, everyone has gone, everything is clean, and I’m about ready to drink myself into a stupor. Or at least until I forget everything that’s come to pass. Lou’s been trying to call me all night long; I’m surprised she isn’t here busting my balls for ignoring her. She can wait, they all can.
After I’ve grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge, I walk up to the stage and grab my father’s old guitar. A moment of indecision has me freezing on the spot – do I play it or smash it into smithereens? I grip hold of the neck so tightly it feels like my hands will bleed, however, a memory of him teaching me a few simple chords hits me like an emotional freight train, forcing me to release some of my tension.
I perch on the stool in the center of the stage, place my beer bottle on top of the table next to it, and hold the guitar across my lap. It feels familiar, like if I close my eyes real tight, I can almost imagine him standing there, laughing as I finally get the notes right.
“That’s it, Warren! Whooo!” he shouts as I repeat the notes one by one. “Your mama is going to be so proud, boy! Mia, can you see him, baby?”
I’m laughing with pure joy; the first time since Mom was taken up to heaven. It’s taken me nearly two years to laugh like this. Lou still hasn’t said her first words, and I know Dad’s worried about it, but look at him now. Laughing and smiling and talking to Mom like she’s still here. I actually feel proud of myself; I did that.
“Do you really think she can hear me, Dad?”
“Oh, son, of course she can,” he cries, running over to wrap his arms around me, “and she’s so proud of you, just as much as I am.”
“I miss her, Dad,” I tell him truthfully.
“Oh, my boy, so do I,” he whispers before emitting a sad sigh, “but you know what, every time you play this guitar, she’ll hear you and she’ll be dancing and clapping along. She’ll tell everyone up there that you’re her boy and she will look so smug about it.”
“Really?” I ask with hope in my voice.
“I promise,” he says before kissing my head.
I’ve played this guitar every day since. I taught Lou how to play so Mom would hear her too. Now seems as good a time as any to pay homage to her, even if she was complicit in the lie too. I strum a mish-mash of notes at first, waiting for something to come to me, some inspiration for my troubled thoughts. Eventually, it hits me, a song she used to sing to Lou when she was a baby, I’ll See You in my Dreams by Joe Brown, a song that’s sure to bring tears to my eyes. This time is no different.
I get so lost in the song, so fixed on the memory of her face smiling over my baby sister’s crib, that when I feel two arms reaching around from behind me, I jump and end up dropping the guitar. She tries to move away from me, but I get a hold of my senses much too quickly to let her go. Instead, I grip hold of her pale arms and take comfort in the familiar smell of her. As I let it all out in howls of pain, trembling against her much smaller body, she strokes my hair and hums against me. Eventually, the vibration of her chest as she hums soothes me, and I lose my adrenaline to grief.
“I thought I’d frightened you away for good,” I whisper, “I’d deserve it if I had.”
“You had a couple of people vouch for you,” she laughs softly, “and they explained…what happened. Warren, I’m so sorry.”
“Jess,” I begin as I pull her out in front of me so I can sit her on my lap, “don’t ever apologize. For anything. You are my port, my home, and I am honored that you would want to stay with me after witnessing me lose my shit earlier on.”
“You make me feel strong, Warren,” she says as I pull her closer, “losing you isn’t an option.”
“You are strong, baby, so strong!”
“Let’s be strong together.”
I kiss her with all the warmth she has just given me. I hold her tight before lifting her in my arms and walking out back so we can show each other just how much we need one another.
And the whole time we make love, I look into her eyes, and she looks right back.
_____
Jessie
Warren’s hard body holds onto mine all night, his tattoos gently moving as he breathes deeply in sleep. Last night I had felt totally at ease with him watching as I succumbed to my release. I felt vulnerable, exposed, but so at peace in his arms, I didn’t feel any need to run and hide from it. The sensation of him inside of me is an experience I can’t describe with words. Emotionally, however, I am so in love with this man, I finally want to live again, to explore this life with him by my side.
“I love you,” I whisper, and he kisses me. “You brought me back to life.”
“You made me remember how great life could be,” he says with strain, as though holding himself back to keep us going. “I love you, Jess.”
“Niamh,” I correct him with a smile on my face, “call me Niamh.”
“Niamh,” he whispers with a smile, wrapping his arms around me and bringing us both to that moment when we can let go with one another.
When I wake the following morning, feeling unusually cold, I realize Warren has left. I can’t even hear him in the bathroom; he’s completely gone. Feeling uneasy, I put on one of his shirts and march out into the living room to confront him, but he’s not there. I begin to panic, to feel the familiar trembling of my limbs and my heart thudding painfully inside of my chest. It’s not a sensation I welcome for it reminds me of so many bad things that I want to black out, to hide, and never come out of it again. But I can’t, not now I have someone I care about, not now I have Warren.
“Warren,” I try to shout, but it barely comes out in more than a whisper. I wrap my arms around my stomach and cough to clear my throat so I can try again. “Warren!” Again, I’m barely audible so I begin edging toward the bar where I can hear male voices beginning to get louder. I glance at the clock, noting the time; it’s too early for the bar to be open.
“Warren,” I call out again, this time loud enough to stop the voices coming in through the bar. I reach for the door so I can push it open but stop myself at the last moment.
“Warren,” I gasp as the sound of his heavy boots come thumping across the floorboards. As soon as he appears in the doorway, I lunge against his chest and release tears of relief. He says nothing at first, just holds me close like he has done so many times before. When I manage to steady my breathing, I look up and let him rub away my tears.
“I thought you’d gone…left me here alone!”
“Niamh, calm down, you know I would never leave you unless I had to,” he says reassuringly, “it’s just me, Jake, my uncle, and Javier.”
“Jake? You mean you’re both ok? You’re talking it all through?” I ask, shocked that he’s being so calm about it, especially after how he was yesterday.
“We’re talking,” he says rather cryptically as he takes hold of my hand. “Come with me, Niamh, this concerns you too.”
“Warren, you’re scaring me,” I whimper, “what could you possibly be talking about that would concern me?”
“Just come with me, Niamh, and remember I love you,” he says, which doesn’t put me at ease in the slightest. “I would never do anything to put you at risk.”
As he pulls me out into the bar, I grip hold of his hand like a limpet, fearing I’m about to be delivered more bad news. Jake immediately gets to his feet as we walk out into the bar in daylight, which is a strange sight for any bar, but especially this one. I smile at his uncle, feeling a little more at ease with him now, but still eye the other man with caution. Out of all of them, I know he is the most lethal.
“I believe I am to call you Niamh,” Jake says quietly as he comes to hug me. “It has always been a pretty name, but you will have to forgive me if I call you Jess by mistake.”
“After everything, Jake, I’d forgive you for anything,” I whisper, “and if you want to call me Jess, or Niamh, I don’t mind either way.”
“Here, come with me,” he says as he pulls me over to sit with him in a nearby booth. Warren and his uncle are sitting on chairs around us, whereas Javier is half laid out on the booth seat opposite us. He eyes me without emotion, then turns to wait for Warran to speak. I instantly know something is about to change, and I’m not going to like it.
Warren looks around each of the men, bracing himself, which only has me gripping hold of the tabletop with more force. The longer he waits, the more I begin to tremble in fear of what he’s about to lay bare.
“Phoenix, just tell her,” Jake eventually says, “you’re only making it worse by prolonging it. Look at her, man.”
“I know, I know, just let me—” Warren begins as he runs his hand through his hair with a guilty-looking expression on his face.
“You’re leaving!” I gasp, jumping to my feet with fear and anger. “No, no, no!”
“Niamh, just wait!” he cries with his hands reaching out to stop me from running. “I am not leaving you forever, just a few weeks. Niamh, I have to find out if Robert is still alive. The only way I can do that is to go back to where you and Jake left him.”
“Then let me come with you!” I beg, with tears now running in streams down my cheeks. I can’t make any rational sense of what either of us is saying. All my fears are being thrown out into the arena – abandonment, being left with strangers, Robert. If my normal self could hear me offering to return to that house of my every nightmare, she’d no doubt want to murder me herself.
“No way!” both Warren and Jake shout in unison.
“Niamh, there is no way I am going to risk your life and sanity by taking you back to where that psychopath might still be kicking around. I want you to stay with Louisa and Daniel, they’ll take care of you, and I’ll be able to keep in contact with you. Plus, you can see Izzy, and Javier is going to be keeping guys on you—"
“What?!” I shout with sheer panic in my voice. In fact, I can feel myself beginning to slip into a full-blown panic attack and have to sit down before I fall onto the floor. Jake and Warren both rush toward me, however, Warren gets there just before, steadying me with his strong arms and concerned eyes.
“Niamh, don’t you want to know he’s gone? To never have to worry about him coming after you ever again? You said so yourself, you still see his image, his shadow, hiding in wait for you. What if you could finally let him go, knowing he can no longer come after you because he no longer exists?”
“But I need you, Warren!” I cry, gripping him with so much force, I’m sure I’m close to drawing blood.
“And I need you,” he says in a whisper while looking deep into my eyes, “and we will have each other. This is only temporary, Niamh.”
“You promise? You swear you’ll come back?” I beg.
“I promise, baby,” he replies, smiling so softly, I love him that little bit more for it. “And then, we can live!”
“God, I hate this,” I admit as I shut my eyes to it all, “but ok.”
“That’s my brave girl,” he says as he kisses my head with the softest touch, “my strong girl.”
“You bring back Jake too,” I murmur, to which he laughs.
“Can I tell you a secret? The asshole can bring himself back without me. Don’t tell him though, he’ll start getting ideas.”
“I love you, Warren Flynn,” I tell him, clinging to his arm in the hopes that I never have to let him go.
“I love you,” he whispers back. “You’ll be my wife one day; did you know that?”
“No,” I giggle, “but I’m glad to know now. I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather be.”