Chapter 27
Zane
Phoenix is exactly where I thought he'd be. On the roof, hunched on the railing at the edge like he's guarding Hell's Gates.
Smoke coils around him as he takes another long drag from a cigarette, the red ember flaring against the pale morning light.
He doesn't turn to look at me when I come up behind him, but his whole body tightens as if he's been expecting me.
“You here to gloat?” he mutters, voice tight like a coiled snake, ready to lash out.
I sigh, not rising to the bait.
Phoenix sneaking around with Ivy could actually work in her favour. Even if he’s not ready to admit he wants her to stay.
Ivy thinks I’ve gone to start breakfast. But everything she said this morning kept playing over in my mind. So I came up here first, knowing I’d find Phoenix.
“You done pouting, or should I come back after your tantrum’s over?” I say flatly.
His jaw flexes. “Depends. You here to rub it in?”
Unsure if he’s talking about his defeat against temptation, or that fact that Ivy spent the week in my bed, I go with the latter.
Stepping up beside him, I lean against the rusted railing, the cold metal biting into my forearms. “I haven't fucked her, if that's what you're stewing about.”
His eyes flick my way, the fading bruise still visible under his eye from his run in with Myles. “You're not denying you wanted to,” he growls.
I shrug one shoulder but don’t respond. No point lying. I definitely want to. It was a battle to stop myself when I had her spread out in front of me and I’ve had to jerk off every night after she falls asleep.
That first night, I wanted to chain her to my bed and keep her there forever. But that’s not what she needs.
“She's not yours,” Phoenix says, voice low, but there's something brittle under it.
The way he says it makes me grind my teeth, biting back what I really want to say.
“No. She's not. She doesn’t ‘belong’ to any of us. And you and Myles yanking her back and forth like dogs fighting over a bone? That was bullshit, man,” I grind out.
“You could’ve hurt her. Trying to tear each other apart with her caught in the middle. Didn’t expect that from you.”
Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I watch as he ashes his cigarette like it wronged him. Oh, he’s sulking hard. He’s a storm trapped behind flimsy walls.
“You swooped in and played hero,” Phoenix grumbles. “She’s fragile… of course she went to you.”
“She’s not as fragile as you think. And she came to me because you and Myles made yourselves the threat,” I retort. “She's not some weak thing we have to fight over. You of all people should know that.”
Phoenix finally turns to me, his stare razor sharp. But I see the flicker of shame behind it.
“Look, I didn't come up here to fight,” I continue, exhaling hard and releasing some of the tension in my shoulders. “I came to tell you something important.”
That word lands. He cocks his head, brow knitting together.
“She told me more this morning,” I start, running a hand through my hair. “About where she came from… the group she was with.”
Phoenix straightens fully, cigarette forgotten. “How bad?”
“Worse than what we could’ve thought,” I force the words out around the lump forming in my throat. “She was sold to some weirdo to be one of his ‘wives’. But it sounds like it wasn’t just him who hurt her. She made out like it’s some sick cult.”
Running my hand down my face and pinching the bridge of my nose, I get to the part that’s hardest to say out loud. “She was with them for two fucking years before she escaped… right before we picked her up. And we shoved her in a cell like she hadn’t just crawled out of hell.”
I close my eyes and let my head fall forward. “She’d probably been running for days. Starving. Cold. And I’d actually felt good about it too. Thought we were helping her. Got her out of the cold. Given her something warm to eat. Fucking idiot.”
It wasn’t just the cell we threw her in. It was the way I looked at her. The way I didn’t do anything to stop Myles. To help her escape us.
I convinced myself that being trapped with us was still better than being out there.
There’s a reason why women aren’t around anymore. Why seeing one is so unlikely. The excitement I’d felt at the time, is making me see how deranged I really am.
Admitting that makes me feel physically sick. I was actually excited.
And she was so traumatised that she was actually grateful. Befriended us. Even tried to make deals so we’d let her stay longer.
He curses under his breath. “I did wonder why she never tried to escape. Not even once.”
“She was trafficked. Trained. Like the traders I was with. Didn't say exactly how, but… hell, you can see it. The way she flinches. The way she shrinks into herself. That fear... it’s not from us.”
Phoenix sighs, dropping his head in his hands, but I catch the twitch in his jaw—the same one he gets when he’s trying not to feel something.
Myles told me Phoenix’s story a few years back. About how he lost his girlfriend when society started falling apart. How they didn’t get there in time.
It helped me understand why he’s so against anything he sees as weak. Why he can’t stand the thought of someone who can’t defend themselves. Because he sees everyone else as his responsibility, and he doesn’t trust himself not to fail again.
And now Ivy’s here, dredging up all that grief like it never left. Maybe that’s why he tried so hard to avoid her. Because if anything ever happens to her, it’ll destroy him all over again.
He doesn’t say it, but I know he’s thinking we already failed Ivy. Part of me believes that as well, but I can see the difference between inevitability and opportunity.
“She left someone behind too,” I tell him.
“Another girl. Apparently, she was supposed to follow. But… well, have you seen anyone on your patrols? Because I haven’t.
Not since the night we found Ivy. When we burnt that trader alive.
” Already knowing his answer, I continue, “Ivy was locked in that cell for four weeks, wondering if she missed her friend. Or worse, if they got to her first.”
He frowns, processing. “You think they're still looking for Ivy, don’t you?”
“I don’t think they ever stopped,” I reply, tone darkening with the weight of what that means for us. For her.
Phoenix is silent, but his whole body is locked down like a loaded weapon. Not just angry. Worried.
He fought so hard to hate her when she first joined us, even labelled her as a stray. But after five weeks, she’s clearly slithered her way into whatever soft-spot he has left.
“She's not just some stray anymore, Phoenix. She's a target. Which makes this place one too.” My grip on the railing tightens as my eyes scan the abandoned street below, littered with rubble and overgrown weeds.
Phoenix exhales slow, steady, calculating. “The perimeter on the west side still has a weak spot. We should get a barrier up today.”
“I'll do it,” I say.
He nods once. “Double up the traps. If someone’s tracking her, I want to know the second they hit our perimeter.”
“And if they come?”
He meets my eyes, and now, there's no fight left between us. There’s something deeper. Mutual and fierce. “We protect her,” he says, matter-of-factly. “She’s ours.”
My chest expands. Not mine. Not his.
Ours.
And for the first time since the world went to hell, that doesn’t feel like a compromise. It feels like a purpose.
I nod. “Yeah. Ours.”
For a moment, neither of us speak. We stand there in the warm morning light, shoulder to shoulder, eyes on the rooftops.
The one thing we can agree on right now.
Nobody's taking her from us.
I hesitate for a second before speaking again. “We have to find a way to tell Myles without him detonating.”
His jaw tightens, but he nods. “Yeah. I’ll handle it.”