Chapter 27 Phoenix
Phoenix
I open the door to call out for Maverick and find a smile on another woman’s mouth and his hand on her back.
She’s blonde and vaguely familiar, staring at me with a sly smirk—the kind of grin that says, I win, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
As I watch, her hand slides to Mav’s chest and rests against his shirt. There’s an intimacy in her touch that makes the back of my neck burn and my stomach roll.
“I was looking for you.” Maverick won’t meet my eyes. He stares at the ceiling, the empty hallway behind me, even his shoes. Everywhere but me.
“I, uh—”
“He was busy,” the blonde giggles.
“What the hell, Mav?” I ask.
“Oh, sugar, you didn’t think you’d be able to keep all of them to yourself, did you?” She flips her hair and presses her body to Maverick’s side. His hand is still on her lower back. Not pulling her closer, but not pushing her away, either.
“Oh, shit,” Storm says, walking into the room with a stack of papers in his hand. Con is right behind him, and so is Atticus.
Yay. Now everyone gets to bear witness to my humiliation.
“Why?” I ask Maverick, refusing to look at the woman who keeps petting his chest.
“I—” His mouth opens and closes; his eyes still don’t find mine.
“Oh, sweetie,” the woman coos. “I think you know why. Sometimes a man like this just needs a woman who can handle him. Oh, you didn’t think he stopped sleeping with the rest of us, did you?
Or that any of them stopped fucking other women?
Just because they moved you up here for convenience doesn’t mean they belong to you. ”
“No—” Maverick starts.
Heat flashes through my body, and I finally let myself look at her. I grit my teeth, refusing to let tears gather. Of course, I let myself think that. How fucking stupid am I?
“That’s exactly what it means,” Storm seethes, surprising me into transferring my attention to him for a moment. He glares at Maverick, rage burning in his eyes.
Maverick flinches at Storm’s words, but they do nothing to douse the nausea in my gut or the sting behind my eyes.
“Well, fine, you can have the scary one, but the hot Titan” —she pats Mav’s chest— “the bossy one, and the smart one are still up for grabs where the rest of us girls are concerned.” She giggles as her hand drifts lower.
I snap before it reaches his belt. I lunge, snatch her by her cheap extensions, and—using the fake hair, a lot of rage, and the benefit of surprise—yank her into the hallway and slam the door in her face.
She bangs on the door, screaming something, but I don’t give a fuck.
I turn on Maverick, hands planted on my hips. “That’s one idiot out of the room. Now I’ll ask you again—why?”
His bloodshot eyes finally meet mine, and I’m able to see what I didn’t before. He’s been drinking. Heavily. Not an excuse, but maybe an explanation for the lowering of his guard.
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t.” I take a step toward him. “Why would you bring her up here? With everything going on? Why would you let her treat you like that—like a piece of meat? Why would you—”
I stop. I was about to ask why he’d hurt me like that. But why wouldn’t he? I’m just the babysitter, right? The woman hired to keep them out of trouble…even though they’re in deeper because of me.
“I didn’t.” he shrugs.
“Don’t give me that shit. No one likes her. She’s a vapid, small-minded bitch. Her own mother doesn’t even like her because she tries to fuck anything that walks.”
“Careful, Phoenix,” Maverick jeers. “That’s not being a girls’ girl. Slut-shaming is beneath you.”
My name sounds wrong on his lips. I hate it when he calls me anything other than Firebird.
“She came up here to fuck you just to prove she could. She called you ‘the hot Titan,’ like you’re a sex toy she can check out.
Did you see the way she looked at me? She got off on the drama.
I’m not shaming her for being a slut. I’m shaming her for being vindictive and mean. I’m shaming you for being a slut.”
“Big words for a woman who likes to get tag-teamed.” He’s in my face now. His breath smells like whiskey, and it’s barely lunchtime.
“Says the man who likes to watch his friends fuck the girl he actually wants.” I don’t blink. “I know how you look at a woman you want to fuck, Maverick. I’ve got firsthand experience. That is not how you looked at her. So tell me why you’re pushing this right now.”
“You don’t know shit,” he barks.
Conrad takes a step toward us, and I lift my hand to stop him. He takes another step, jaw clenching, but Storm and Atticus hold him back.
They must see what I see. Something is hurting Mav. Hurt people want to hurt people, and Mav has decided the person he’s going to hurt is me.
Not only do I know how he looks at the women he wants, but I also know how he fights. I know the lines he will and won’t cross in an argument, and I know when he’s mad at someone else and when he’s mad at himself.
The venom in his words isn’t aimed at me at all. All that rage and anger and hate is aimed inward. If this is what he needs to do, I can take it. I’ve taken worse. I have thick skin.
“I know you never bring women up here unless they’re already here for a party. Why bother when you can fuck them in the casino or a spare room without getting housekeeping to change your sheets or dealing with awkward conversations after?”
“Maybe I changed my mind,” he says. “Maybe I felt like we needed a different woman to share.”
“Maybe you’re being a self-centered coward, and I want to know why.” I step closer. “Someone is targeting you. Someone is leaving the bodies of women you hook up with in your apartment. You’re risking her life.”
“Don’t fucking push me, Phoenix,” he growls, squaring his shoulders.
“Then don’t fucking lie to me, Maverick,” I sneer, using his name the way he spat mine. “You’re the one who said if I belong to all of you, then you belong to me, too. Those are the words that you used. Not Storm. Or Atticus. Or Conrad. That was you, Maverick.”
“Phoenix—” Con says, but I ignore him as Mav gets a little closer to me.
“Don’t you dare take another step toward her,” Storm’s voice drops—low, deadly—and I stop.
Everyone is watching us, waiting to see how this plays out. Mav and I need this conversation, but not with an audience.
“Don’t you dare fucking move,” I snap at Mav, then pivot to Storm. “You need to go.”
“I’ll fucking kill him if he—”
“He won’t.” I cup Storm’s chin, and he presses his face into my palm.
“Not physically, but he and I need to sort some shit out. Can you show Atticus the files for the spa staff? And Conrad is going to need the contracts for the vendor list to see what he can do if that’s where the drugs are coming from. ”
Storm still glares past me.
“Please?” I ask. “I promise I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will, because I know where he sleeps.” Storm kisses my cheek and presses his blade into my palm.
Atticus gives a small nod. He knows exactly what I’m doing, and he leads Storm and Con to his office. They give us our privacy, but they stay close.
I take a breath and turn back to Maverick. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, boredom painted on his face. To anyone else he looks casual, annoyed.
I’m not anyone else.
I see the exhaustion and pain in his eyes. The tension in his body. The way he glances around, hunting for an exit.
“Tell me why,” I say again, letting my own mask fall. “Did you just want to rub her in my face? Show me I’m not good enough for you? I already knew that.”
He scoffs. “I don’t remember asking you to be my girlfriend, Phoenix. We’re not exclusive.”
“Didn’t you? You killed for me, you held me while I slept, you got rid of bodies for me, you protected me. Do you do all of that for every girl you fuck? Am I just another wet cunt to stick your dick in?”
I’m intentionally crass. He needs to feel it. And he needs to know there isn’t a thing he can say I haven’t already told myself.
His jaw ticks as he pushes off the wall and towers over me. “Don’t you dare.”
“Don’t I dare what?”
“Pretend you don’t know what’s going on. Act like none of this is real and it’s all in my head,” he seethes.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on.” I scream it. “I have no idea what’s happening at any goddamn moment, because you and the others shut me out. So no, I’m not pretending shit. I really have no fucking clue.”
“Oh, boo-hoo. Poor little girl spends all day being protected and taken care of and dicked down whenever she wants, but she’s upset I’m not at her beck and call. That maybe I wanted to spend a little time not being someone’s second, third, or fucking fourth goddamn choice.”
Before I register it, my hand flies and slams across Maverick’s face.
“Fuck you, Mav,” I shout.
My handprint blooms on his cheek, and anger blazes in his eyes.
“Hit me again, Firebird. See what fucking happens.”
His eyes are so wide I can see the whites all the way around his pupils. I dare to glance down and see his fists clench at his sides.
He steps forward. I step back until my spine hits the wall. He cages me in, palms planted on the drywall beside my head. Storm’s knife is warm in my hand, grounding me.
There is no escape, even if I don’t want one.
“Your pretty words and pretty mouth won’t stop me from fucking women who want to fuck me for me—not because they think they have to. Not because I’m a package deal with the others.”
“If that’s what you wanted, you wouldn’t have brought that trash up here. She didn’t care about you, Maverick. She doesn’t want you. She wants to fuck a Titan.”
“How is that any different from you?” He leans to my ear. “I guess the difference is you’re getting paid to fuck all of us. Guess we do endorse solicitation after all.”
My hand flies again as I slap him hard. The crack echoes through the quiet room.
He rears back and buries his fist in the drywall next to me. I don’t flinch. He would never hurt me—not unless I begged him to.
Even then, that’s not Maverick. That’s who he thinks he should be.
“I don’t fuck you because I’m paid. Being with you has never been obligation or proximity to the others. It has nothing to do with you being a Titan.”
He scoffs and starts to pull away, but I snag his collar and hold him. “I fuck you because I want you. I spend time with you because you make me feel good, and you have never been second at anything in your fucking life.”
“Please. You fuck Atticus because you like his kink and his brain. You fuck Storm because being that close to danger is a thrill. And you fuck Con because he’s the one you’ve always wanted. I’m just the spare you ride when the others are busy.”
I raise my hand again, but he catches my wrist and pins it over my head.
“Do not hit me again, little Firebird.” And then I see him—the ten-year-old boy on the verge of a panic attack because he thinks he isn’t loved. The child who believes he’ll always be compared to others and come up short.
“This isn’t about fucking me,” I say, softer. “It can’t be. What is it really about?” I grab hold of him with the hand he’s not pinning to the wall
“Let it go,” he says, trying to pull away.
“No.” I tighten my grip on his shirt. His fist doesn’t loosen around my wrist. “Listen to me, Maverick. You told me you were mine. I’m not going anywhere.
You are not second-rate, and the next time you bring another woman into this penthouse, I will kill her while you watch, and then I will kill you. I swear to fucking god.”
He scoffs, and I grab his neck and yank him down until we’re eye to eye. At the same time I wind my legs around his waist and climb him like a monkey, holding on to him with everything I have. Everything I am.
“Look at my face, into my eyes, search for my tells, and try to claim that I’m bluffing. Don’t worry about what I see in them—worry about what they see in me. I will kill to keep what’s mine, and we don’t have time to get rid of another fucking body.”
I slam my mouth to his in a kiss that claims. He doesn’t move at first. I think for a second he’s going to keep fighting me. Then he gives in. He opens to me, and for a breath he’s at my mercy.
It lasts a moment and then he takes control.
The kiss turns punishing. He pours everything into it—his pain, his anger, all of it.
His hand tightens around my forearms, locked around his neck, and he presses me into the wall. He rocks into my core, hard as steel.
“I didn’t fuck her,” he confesses against my mouth. “I didn’t touch her. I didn’t kiss her, Firebird. I don’t know why I—”
“I know,” I pant, dragging him back down to me. “’Cause you’d be a dead man if you had.”