Chapter 3 #2
“I made you dinner.”
“I’m not touching that,” I say, glaring at the food.
Probably fucking drugged it, the asshole. There’s no universe where I’ll eat something he’s made—even if I’m starving, even if it smells so good my stomach aches and my mouth waters.
“I know I’ve been waiting for you a long time, but if you think I’ve got the patience to sit here and watch you slowly ingest a sedative, you’re out of your mind.
If I wanted you unconscious, you’d get chloroform—quick, easy, done.
I’m not the type to twiddle my thumbs, waiting for you to pass out. ”
“Great…” I mutter, dragging the word out.
“Never drugged you before, baby. Not about to start now.”
“Okay, so what? You just broke into my home… again… and decided to play house? You thought dinner would fix the stalking and the murder?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I decided to play house and make you dinner.”
“Just for me?”
“Didn’t think you were ready for a date, but I’m happy to keep you company while you eat. If that’s what you want.”
“Am I giving off the energy of someone who wants you to join me for dinner?”
“Considering you haven’t kicked me out yet, I’m thinking you’re not as opposed to it as you’re pretending to be.”
“Phoenix,” I snap, louder this time, fighting the pull in my stomach. “Get out. Get out of my apartment. Get out of my life.”
He steps forward, and the candlelight catches in his hair, turning the black strands metallic as they fall across his eyes. When he reaches the table, he braces both hands on it, shoulders drawn tight, his body angled so I’m trapped between the wood and him.
“Move,” I grind out, my jaw locked, “or you’ll never get those two kids you want.”
He doesn’t flinch.
He doesn’t blink.
“You used to let me get this close to you,” he murmurs, and my spine stiffens. “Do you remember? You used to lean into my touch.”
I remember being too young to name what burned in my chest when he looked at me. I was too na?ve to understand that the way I craved his presence wasn’t innocent and that the safety I felt in his arms was laced with something far more dangerous.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
He’s violent.
“So beautiful, I forget how to breathe when you look at me like that.”
He’s hurt people.
“One day, I’m going to kiss you again, and when I do, you won’t even remember what hate feels like.”
He’s killed people.
“One day, you’ll change your name again. Only this time, you’ll beg me for mine.”
He did it all for you.
“You’re deluded, Phoenix.”
“Maybe,” he says softly as silver eyes sear into me. “But you built the monster. You fed him year after year when you wrote those letters, letting him taste what he couldn’t have. So tell me, pretty girl, what did you think I’d become?”
“I honestly thought you’d be married to some brainless cheerleader by now—knocked her up a few times, have a whole litter of mini assholes running around.
You’d probably still have that stick wedged so far up your ass you forgot how to be a human being.
Not this obsessive, unhinged dickwipe who can’t take a fucking hint. ”
The insults feel like glass in my throat. But I need him to hate me as much as I’m trying to hate him.
He suddenly laughs—actually fucking laughs—which makes me dig deeper and search for the words that will finally land and hurt him the way I need him to hurt so he'll let me go.
“You think this is funny?” I lean in, making sure he hears every word despite the slight guilt pooling in my stomach.
“Let me paint a picture for you, since you’re clearly delusional.
One day—maybe next year, maybe in another ten—you’re going to watch me walk down the aisle in the most beautiful white dress as I smile at another man.
A better man. You’ll watch him slide his ring on my finger and kiss me at the altar.
And then you’ll go home alone to whatever sad, empty existence you’ve built, and you’ll finally realize you wasted years obsessing over a woman who never wanted you. ”
His expression shifts, and the laughter dies on his lips, fading so fast it’s like it was never there at all.
Good.
This is the Phoenix I want.
I can fight this Phoenix.
I can’t fight the boy who used to kiss my bruises.
“Say that shit to me again.”
“I will fall in love one day, Phoenix.” My chin lifts even as my heart screams at me to stop talking and take it back.
“One of these days, I’m gonna date a guy who actually treats me like a queen, and you won’t find anything on him.
No record, no dirt. Nothing you can twist in that sick little head of yours.
” He straightens, rising to his full height, and I have to crane my neck back to hold his eyes.
“And then what? You gonna sit in your dark little room, watching me and jerking off like a fucking pervert while another man gives me everything I’ve ever wanted? ”
“That depends… You still gonna be thinking about me while he’s inside you?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
He slides his hands into the pockets of his dark-gray sweatpants, and I already feel my throat tighten.
“I’ve thought about you once. Maybe twice. And the only reason you even know about it is because you watched when you shouldn’t have.”
He smirks, pressing his tongue into his cheek like he’s trying not to laugh. “Once or twice? That’s fucking adorable. You wanna try that again, pretty girl?”
My jaw sets, but my heart’s a traitor, fluttering against my ribs as he slides his hands free from his pockets. His fingers catch on the edge of his hoodie, and he drags it over his head in one smooth motion.
Skin. Ink. Abs. Him.
He’s disgustingly beautiful.
Bare-chested now, he lifts one arm and shoves it toward me, his fist clenched, forearm on full display.
“Go ahead, baby. Count them.”
Phoenix cocks his head as I glance down at those big, bold marks that line his arm.
Tally marks.
Dozens of them, maybe more.
“Come on, Shannen. Count for me. Count how many times you hated me so much you screamed my name with your pussy wrapped around your fingers.”
My heart stops.
He fucking didn’t.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Worth it. Just to see that look on your face.”
“Every time I think you can’t get more unhinged…”
“I may have carved the lines, but my name came out of your mouth. You set the course, Shannen. I just wanted the reminder.” His thumb drags over what looks like a fresh mark—red, swollen, and still healing, like a wound he’s proud of.
“This one right here—this is my favorite. It’s the first time you said my name after knowing exactly who I am and what I’ve done and still wanted me anyway. ”
“It’ll be the last because, I swear to you, I’ll find every single camera and rip them out. You won’t get access to me again.”
“Don’t waste your time, baby. First of all, you won’t find them. I’m too good at this, and you know it. And second? Even if you do… I’ll replace them the second you blink.”
“It’s like you want me to call the cops.”
“Then do it.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and tosses it onto the table behind me. “Seriously, if you feel threatened, call them. I won’t fight you on it. I won’t run. Hell, I’ll even sit down and pour myself my first drink while they cuff me.”
“God, Phoenix, it’s not even about that!” I shove past him, my shoulder colliding with his chest, and I pace around the table. “I want my life back, and if you don’t give it to me, you’ll turn me into a monster like you because I’m going to make your life hell.”
“Trust me, nothing you could do will be worse than what I’ve willingly put myself through over the years.”
And I believe that. I believe everything Phoenix says at this point.
“I’m gonna head out,” he mutters, already stepping away from the table. “Don’t let your food get cold. Though… you’ll probably have to reheat it before you eat.”
What the hell.
“Eat, sleep, rest, baby. I’ll see you soon.”
“Soon?” I echo.
“Yeah,” he says over his shoulder as he heads for the door. “Soon.”
Then he’s gone. No glance back. No pause. No drawn-out goodbye. Just the sound of the door clicking shut.
I slump into the chair and pick up the fork, stabbing a potato and putting it in my mouth.
It’s cold.
He’s right. I need to heat it.