Chapter 27
THREE DAYS LATER
The vending machine onsite was full of garbage—but it was as far as I could bring myself to go after three days with no food.
While I wouldn’t call what I felt an appetite, my will to live got me out of bed.
For the last couple of days, I’d managed to stomach two packets of trail mix, a bag of pretzels, and enough water to rid me of the massive dehydration headache I earned after copious amount of crying followed by zero effort to rehydrate.
The calories I consumed gave me the energy to keep myself upright, and whatever nutrients there were to spare made me feel a little less hollow and a little more human.
I had the capacity to start repairing the safeguards which had crumbled in my mind, erecting walls to cage the devil within.
I even managed to bathe, the scalding water from the shower washing away a thin layer of my self-loathing.
It was after I dawned a fresh change of clothes that I willed myself to reach for my phone.
It was plugged in on the nightstand, buzzing with notifications and calls I mostly ignored.
When I unlocked the screen and found ten missed calls from Mustang, seventeen from Rodeo, six from Winnie, and two from Tess, I was struck by a measure of guilt for which I wasn’t prepared.
I was so buried in my own darkness, stuck in a prism seemingly outside of reality, I didn’t stop to consider the full effect of my disappearing act. It was so easy to believe I wasn’t worth missing, and yet I had, in fact, left Mustang in a bind—which meant Tess and Rodeo by extension.
In my haste to run, and the subsequent emotional tumult which occurred after the fact, I hadn’t decided what, exactly, my future looked like.
Subconsciously, I knew I couldn’t simply walk away from Gillette and never look back.
I had a house, a boss I respected, and loose ends I couldn’t leave untied.
Simply put, I was a grown ass woman, not a reckless child, and I needed to act like it.
Though, the longer I stared down at my phone, the more I began to wonder if it wasn’t short-sightedness that sent me to a cheap motel in Dayton but a deep-seeded longing for the excuse to go back. To return home.
‘You can fly, baby—and the door is open. It’s always fuckin’ open.’
In spite of my best efforts, I hadn’t forgotten a single thing Benson said to me nearly a week ago. As his words reverberated in my mind, it seemed to strengthen the still, small voice I was beginning to recognize as mine.
Except, it didn’t matter how much I wanted to go home; how much I ached for him; how, with every passing day, I felt the tug of him pull harder rather than go slack.
The door might have been open, but nothing was the same.
The truth was out there, and I was a woman in pieces—burned by the original Stallion, reduced to dust.
And this time, I wasn’t sure how I was going to rise from the ashes.
I didn’t know if I could be Phoenix anymore—so how could I possibly be Ali?
‘Well, I love you…’
My heart sputtered as his declaration spun like a tornado through my thoughts.
I forced in a deep breath, willing myself to relax through the pain. He deserved so much better than me. He deserved someone whole; someone who could love him in a way I didn’t know how.
Why won’t you at least try ?
I shook away the thought and the hope which accompanied it.
Then my phone buzzed with a new text alert.
Glancing at my screen, the gasp I sucked through my parted lips couldn’t be helped. My heart sputtered to life again, pounding in my chest at the sight of his name.
Fuck—but my hope pierced me like a dagger straight through my sternum.
At first, I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to open it. Then it occurred to me—perhaps this was it. Maybe it would be his goodbye. Maybe he was finally letting me go. Maybe that’s what I needed to figure out my next move.
Or maybe I needed an excuse to click on the notification.
I took a deep breath, unlocked my screen, and read his message.
If I wasn’t sitting down, I would have fallen over.
He’s gone. Buried in the ground with your secrets.
I had zero time to recover before another message appeared.
It’s safe now, baby. Come home.
My scalp tingled, sending a shiver down my back and goosebumps across my arms. I could hardly breathe as my chest grew congested with an emotion I couldn’t identify.
It was greater than relief. Bigger than gratitude.
More profound than forgiveness and louder than a declaration.
The words on my phone grew blurry as my eyes welled with tears, and I didn’t try to silence the sob that burst out of me.
He wasn’t letting me go.
Not even a little.
Not by a long shot.
‘He’s gone. Buried in the ground with your secrets’
I read it again. And again. Then again.
With every pass of my eyes, the walls I’d managed to erect in my mind were leveled again.
Holy shit.
Benson Wright had killed for me.
‘I got you, sparky. You’re safe.’
Slowly, as I continued to stare at the phone in my hand, a revelation sparked to life inside of me. The ember of it began to grow warm in my chest, and I swear I was beginning to understand what love felt like. And I wanted it.
As my tears continued to race down my face, I felt myself trembling. It wasn’t shock. It wasn’t anguish. It was a longing so pure, so visceral, I couldn’t deny it, run from it, or hide it. I wanted Benson. I wanted him more than anything—but the truth remained.
I couldn’t go home. Not like this. I couldn’t go back like this .
I didn’t know if I could be Phoenix anymore, but the girl fighting inside of me—the woman too stubborn to be silenced, even in my weakened state—she was screaming.
I was screaming, begging to be set free.
I wanted to be Ali. Not the Ali-Mae I used to be, but Benson’s Ali.
‘Baby—you’re not a monster, you’re a fuckin’ warrior.’
I wasn’t nearly strong enough to claim the title of warrior—but I wanted to be.
For Ben, for me , for us, I wanted to try.
I needed to try.