Chapter 21
Phoenix
Less than two hours later, I’m getting a run-down of sorts from Javier. Niamh stays with me the entire time, clinging to my arm and looking as wary as she did when I first brought her back here. He can see it too, and he can also see I have more to tell him but cannot do so while Niamh is here. He does not show any sign of this knowledge, but we both know we have things to discuss. However, it soon becomes apparent that Niamh is not going to be letting go of me anytime soon, so Javier says his goodbyes and leaves. I then take her out back to cook her a simple meal and just be with her, soothe her, and reassure her that I won’t be leaving her again.
“Are you going to tell me what you found, Warren?” she asks while cuddling up to me on a couch that desperately needs to be thrown out. Her breathing remains steady, her grip only as tight as it was before she had spoken. A sense of pride grows inside of me, knowing that she feels completely safe within my arms. It’s the first time I have felt worthy of my alter ego name, ‘Phoenix’. I do not answer her straight away, even though I already know I will tell her everything; she deserves no less.
“He wasn’t there, Niamh,” I tell her, the words crackling the atmosphere with what they mean. One man’s existence causing so much fear and pain; I’ve never wanted to extinguish anyone more.
“The house?” she whispers.
“Still there, dilapidated, but still standing,” I answer.
“The basement?” she asks with the beginning of a whimper that’s just begging to come out; I can hear it as clear as day.
“There, Niamh, I saw all of it,” I reply, with my own voice choking up over how this must be affecting her, and how I had felt seeing that dark, grey room in which she had to grow up. “I’m so sorry, baby, I’m just so-”
“It’s ok, Warren, I’m ok,” she says, now holding onto me with that firmer grip. The pressure tells me she is trying to be brave, even though the fear is beginning to take over her again. “As long as I have you, I’ll be ok.”
“We’ll find him, Niamh, I promise you, we’ll find him, and I’ll wipe him out,” I vow.
We lie together, ignoring the broken springs, the threadbare cover, and all the photos of my mum and dad lining the walls, as if trying to remember happier times, before Robert began his reign of terror. We take comfort in the warmth of each other’s bodies, and I notice her stillness and her grip releasing a little of its tension. I almost believe she’s fallen asleep. That is until she grabs my hand and turns to kiss my warrior tattoo that covers my right pec.
“What if he finds me first?” she whispers.
_____
Niamh
I took comfort in Warren’s body against mine as we made love that night. The intensity of his eyes on mine, and the words of love he offered, all had me greedily holding on for more. He felt like home, love, lust, soft, hard, gentle, rough, all mingling together to create an exquisite feeling that had me momentarily forgetting all about the man who had taken all those things away from me. I never had the chance to have a crush on a boy, to enjoy the chase, battle my nerves before a first date, so now that I have what I have with Warren, I grab onto every sensation and every emotion I can. I am no longer numb, and it’s all thanks to this man. And from the way he looks at me, I think I do the same for him too.
“I love you, Niamh,” he whispers with deep, slow, and powerful thrusts, “you are my family, my home.”
I do not answer him with words, just let the peak of my release take over, giving way for his to come not long after.
“You never need to question how I feel for you, Warren,” I tell him when he drops down to layer kisses over my face, my shoulder, and in the crook of my neck. I feel him smile against my skin before we both settle into sleep, something I thought I’d be chasing after what Warren disclosed. I guess I’ve finally found someone who I can trust with my life.
_____
Niamh
“Jake!” I gasp with tears that are mere moments away from falling. It’s perhaps the first time I leave Warren’s side, running over to wrap my arms around his shoulders. He drops his bags as soon as he sees me moving and manages to catch me as I lunge for him. He then releases a tired sigh and begins crying with me. I’ve been battling a storm of emotions, and so has he, some of them the same, some of them completely different. Robert was the closest thing he had to a father, even if he was completely wrong in what he did to both of us.
“Hey, Nimah, you still hanging in there?” he mumbles through my hair. “Is the big guy looking after you?”
“Uh-huh,” I whimper, just as he pulls back to look into my wet eyes.
“Hey, you got this, sis, you know you do,” he whispers.
“I’m just scared that now I’ve found my family, it’s all going to be ripped away again,” I admit. “I can’t lose another family; I can’t lose myself again!”
“You won’t; we won’t let you,” he says as he rubs away my tears with his thumb pads.
“Hey,” Warren says from behind me, addressing his brother for the first time since he walked through the door. He sounds solemn, which unnerves me. “Find anything out?”
“Nada,” Jake replies sadly, “no one has heard from him since before he left with me all those years ago. They thought he was dead and gone, like us.”
“How’s his sister?”
“Cagey. She won’t acknowledge his existence,” Jake replies, “as far as she’s concerned, she never had a brother. Which I guess I can understand.”
The room turns silent, with none of us knowing what to say next. My anxiety steps up; Warren has always been so confident with knowing what to do, having a plan, and reassuring me. He must pick up on my sudden distress for he soon walks over and takes me in his arms to give a soothing embrace.
“Don’t worry, Niamh, we’ve just got to be patient,” he says softly, “there will be a trail somewhere, I promise you, there always is.”
“And until then?” I ask, desperate to know the answer to that question.
“We carry on with living,” Jake says determinedly, “he already took away years of our lives. We’re not going to let him take any more.”
“Jake’s right,” Warren says with a breathtaking smile on his face, all the while stroking back strands of hair away from my cheeks. “Javier, my uncle, all of us are on it. If you see anything again, you tell us straight away, but otherwise, we enjoy what we have here.”
“Easier said than done,” I mutter unhelpfully, “but, for both of you, I shall try.”
“Good girl,” Warren says with pride in his voice. “And you’re going to have to warn your parents, Niamh.”
I step away from him, finding the idea of facing them terrifying. I no longer know how to talk to them without breaking out into a rage. I just can’t let go of how I feel, how disappointed I am that they weren’t there for me when he took me, how my childhood came to an abrupt end because they left me to walk up that hill in the rain. It might not be fair or rational to blame them, but I do.
“Will you do it with me?” I ask Warren.
“Of course,” he says with a concern etched on his face, “let’s do it in person. We could go back to your home…” He trails off when he sees me shaking my head at a rapid pace. “Ok, ok, how about somewhere neutral, somewhere halfway?”
“With lots of people?” I add and he nods with a small smile. “Then, ok.”
“I’ll arrange it; leave it all to me. In the meantime, I’ll leave you to catch up with our brother,” he says, glancing back at a stunned-looking Jake. I can’t help but smile over his acknowledgement; it might not sound right given we are together, but essentially that’s who Jake is, our brother.
_____
Niamh
The thought of seeing my parents again has me sinking into a pit of depression, even more so than the thought of Robert coming after me. No more shadowy figures appear before me, but this only has me believing that he somehow knows we are on to him so he is trying to lead us into thinking he’s gone. I have to wonder if he’s always been there, following me around, being the shadow that I always believed was a figment of my imagination through trauma. But at the moment, Robert materializing is only a possibility, whereas seeing my parents is a certainty.
Though it might not seem fair to an outsider, I see them as part of the reason for what happened to me. Perhaps it was the pain of waiting for them to come and save me, but just like on that rainy day on the way home from school, they never did. They abandoned me when I needed them most. Did they forget about me over the years? Did they badger the police to keep looking for me? Did they learn to smile and laugh again? I was trapped inside that car while my mother laughed and gossiped over the phone, content to be in the warmth and safety of what was once my home. It stands to reason that they would have quickly forgotten about me. I never forgot them, and I don’t remember ever smiling.
Ever since Warren informed me of what he found in that house, or rather, what he didn’t find, I’ve been dreaming more and more of Stanley. On the first night of them, he was a happy-go-lucky dragon who held my hand on the way home from school, lifting his wing to shield me from the rain. The following night, he was sad; so sad I wrapped my arms around his neck while he cried on my shoulder. The next night, he looked so scared that he flew away when I stepped too close. But tonight is different, a unique dream I have never dreamed of before. In this dream, he is angry and looks more like the villainous dragons you might see in films with knights in armor who are trying to save their damsel in distress. In fact, for the first time ever, I see him blow a huge ball of fire that sweeps over my parents’ house, taking them with it.
I wake with a start, panting hard and fast, and trembling against the comforter. I push back my hair from my face, just as Warren sits up and wraps his arms around me.
“Hey, baby, another bad dream?” he whispers before laying a kiss on top of my shoulder. “Stanley?”
“How’d you know?” I gasp while trying to bring my breathing back to normal.
“You’ve been calling out his name every night, Niamh,” he says sadly.
“I always thought he represented my parents, or perhaps my childhood, but now I think I’m so messed up, I don’t know who he is,” I admit.
“Perhaps he’s just your fear?”
“Maybe,” I sigh before lying back against his chest and shutting my eyes to it all. “Maybe the thought of seeing my mom and dad is just bringing every single little thing to the surface; the good and the bad.”
“Niamh, I will be there every step of the way,” he says as he runs his fingertips over my naked arms.
“I’m not afraid of them, per se, I’m afraid of how they make me feel,” I try to explain, squeezing him that little bit tighter, “and of everything that comes flooding back to me whenever I see them.”
“I get it,” he says thoughtfully, “sometimes this place feels oppressive; it holds memories of moving here after my mom died, the sound of my father trying to hide his howling pain, of finding him the night after he had passed on, of Javier and Tony coming in all bloody after finding their parents murdered. Trust me, Niamh, what you’re saying makes total sense to me.”
“Why do you stay here?” I ask with genuine curiosity.
“I guess…because of those memories,” he laughs sadly to himself. “If I left, it would feel like I was leaving those people behind, even if they are stuck inside of a bad memory.”
We lie in silence for a while, appreciating how the other feels, having been in the exact same place ourselves. I take in his warmth, his strength, and his ability to calm me, even in the most violent of storms.