Chapter 34
Nix
T he side of the bed dips, jolting me from my slumber.
My eyes stay closed as a warm body snuggles up against my chest. Instinctually, I know exactly who it is before she wraps an arm around my waist, giving me the perfect opportunity to breathe her in.
Her usual sweet scent is masked by something spicier this morning, something that smells oddly like River.
"Where'd you go?" I roll over, taking note of the fact that she’s still wearing my clothes.
"Don't get mad." Her voice shakes.
I reach up to push a piece of her onyx hair behind her ear. "Nothing you do could make me mad."
"I fell asleep on the couch with River," she confesses.
I lean in, pressing my soft lips against hers.
"Why would that make me mad?" My kisses migrate a little, connecting with her cheek next.
"Seeing you in my clothes does things to me," I say, kissing further along her jaw line. “I’m torn between wanting you in them every day and wanting to rip them off.” The next kiss is on her neck.
She tries pushing me away. "No more kisses. "
"What? No more kisses?" I smile before peppering her with an outrageous amount of them on her neck and cheek. She giggles, arms flailing around as I make it my personal goal to ensure my lips now touch every inch of her soft skin.
Her laugh gets louder, and she yells, "PHOENIX!", making me freeze.
Nobody calls me by my full name anymore. "You made me do this, Phoenix." Whip. "You should have listened and put God first." Whip. "Temptation draws you in so easily. I'll help you see the light." Whip. I try to shake the memories away, doing my best to keep the darkness from pushing through.
"Phoenix, my love. Come give Momma a kiss." It’s my mother's voice this time. She's blurry, but the memory of her giving me one of the best hugs in the world while making sure I felt loved is still there. She was getting ready to leave for the last time. I just didn't know it yet.
I try to find solace in Alara’s eyes, but she realizes she may have messed up. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn’t have called you that. I just got caught up in the moment and was going for the full government name effect. I wasn’t thinking." Her eyes well up.
I press my hand against the side of her face in a caring caress, never wanting this time next to her to end. "You don't need to be sorry."
"I don't want you to–"
"I know." I cut her off, placing my index finger over her lips. "I’ll admit. You caught me off guard, but as painful as some of the memories around my full name are, there are still happy ones too."
"What do you mean?"
"When I was little, my mom told me she named me Phoenix because she felt like I was destined for something great. She believed that no matter what life threw, I’d be able to overcome it.
Maybe somehow she knew, deep down, that she wouldn’t be around to see me grow up, I don’t know.
You calling me Phoenix made me think of her, and it’s never a bad thing when I think of her. "
“Then why don’t you like being called that?” she wearily asks. “Is it because of the scars?”
I glance down at my arm and nod, pulling myself up in a seated position with my back against the headboard, and wait for her to follow suit.
"These scars..." I trail off.
"You don't have to tell me." She holds up a hand, but I do need to tell her. I want to open up to her about this part of my life, to be a better man for her.
"These scars are complicated. They were a punishment for not following the rules. It’s why control became so important to me. I wanted to make sure there was no way for me to end up punished again. If I stayed in line, this new life would never be taken away from me."
"I think that would be hard with how many people know who you are. "
"Maybe," I agree. "But there's always a doubt that haunts me. Before the Peters family adopted me, I lived with my grandparents." I pause. "They weren't the kind of people children should live with."
She reaches out to run a finger along one of the raised bumps, my eyes fluttering closed from the contact. Their impact will never disappear, no matter how hard I try to camouflage them with the tattoos. I won’t even get into the irony of the cross tattoo on my left forearm.
"Your grandparents are the ones who hurt you.” Her voice cracks.
I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "They insisted God was testing them, and they believed there was evil inside me because of my mother's supposed sins.
I was told I had to be whipped in order to expel the demons.
When I was eight and spent four years there before the final. .. let's call it an incident."
"You were just a kid. How could they hurt you like that?” She shakes her head. I've often wondered the same thing.
"A grieving kid at that."
"I'm so sorry, Nix. That's awful."
"They didn't always hurt me. Some days were just worse than others, which only added to the confusion. If I followed their rules, it was easier, but you try telling a young boy to follow rules.” I stare off at the wall.
“They made me read the Bible for a minimum of three hours a day. I wasn’t allowed to go to school or talk to anyone outside of their house because they thought it would influence my character.
I had to be awake and asleep at specific times, and pray before or after everything to show my gratitude.
If I slipped up, even just a little, I was punished. "
I take a few slow breaths as she rests her palm on my arm, providing the safety I need to continue this conversation.
"Some days, it didn’t matter what I did. My grandfather would still tell me that God told him I wasn't trying hard enough. He’d claim I needed a reminder of what happens to children who don't respect the word." I finally look up and lock eyes with my sparrow.
"It's okay," she reassures me.
"None of this is okay." I shake my head. "My grandfather took a special interest in molding me into someone with a true path in the eyes of his lord and savior. I had to endure whatever pain he caused."
"I can't believe someone could do something like that to someone so innocent." A tear slips down her cheek, and I lean in to swipe it away.
"Before my mom died, we never went around them. I didn’t understand why until I wasn’t able to escape that hellscape.
After so long, I started to think that having everything in order was the only way to control how he reacted.
Some of the things I have a habit of doing, even now, are because of that.
The reality is, I was never in control of anything.
I think he just liked feeling like he had power over someone. "
"Your mom kept you from him because she knew what it was like. "
I sigh, nodding. “It took a while for me to realize that, but once I did, my heart ached for her.
I wish I had just one more minute with her to tell her how much of an amazing mother she was.
After all the things she endured, she did everything to make sure my childhood was full of love.
She did everything right. She escaped what was likely a life full of pain and created this new future for herself.
There wasn't a single moment when she yelled at me or raised a hand in discipline.
She tried to protect me, and I ended up right where she never wanted me to. She tried so hard to keep me safe."
"She did the best she could, given the situation. I’m sure she never imagined you would end up there."
"The last time they hurt me, I almost died. It’s partly why I got this cross tattoo. I never want to forget. This was my way to reclaim what happened to me.”
Another tear falls, but this time it's not from her beautiful face; it's from mine. Her soft hand reaches out to caress my cheek, and I lean into it. With my eyes closed, I continue telling my truth.
"He bound me by my hands with a rope the last night I was there. There was a bar along the wall in the basement that I was tied to, but I wasn’t allowed to stand.
I was shirtless and forced to stay on my knees.
I knew the whip was coming, so I tried to obey as best as I could.
He made me repeat Bible verses, and after every one, the wet leather would strike my skin.
It wasn't enough for me to say it. According to him, I needed to feel the pain to fully believe in the strength of God’s word. "
"Nix,” she gasps. “That's awful."
I blink my tear-filled eyes open as they wet my face.
"He wanted me to call my mother a whore, but I refused.
I wouldn't stain her memory like that, so he whipped me until I couldn't fight back.
He..." I trail off, my jaw tightening. "He seemingly lost all touch with reality and tore my skin apart.
I soiled myself, screaming and begging for him to stop, but he didn't. My little body went limp against the wall, and he still kept going. "
She covers her mouth, trying to disguise the shock and horror on her face.
"He whipped me a few more times before ultimately leaving me to lie there covered in my own bodily fluids while I bled profusely. Somehow I survived long enough to untie my hands and crawl upstairs to call the cops after he went to bed."
"I don't even know what to say." She lets her gaze fall.
"You don't need to say anything. My past is my own to bear. Being with you makes things easier. You make life brighter.” I offer her a half smile.
"I like spending time with you, too," she agrees.
"Let's change the topic, okay?" I plead. "How did you fall asleep on the couch with River?"
A soft blush sweeps her cheeks. “It was an accident. He never watched The Devil Wears Prada, so I had to change that. It was super late, and we both should have been in bed."
“I don’t know that movie either.”
"Oh my god!" she exclaims. "That’s it. We're having a group movie night. This is just unacceptable. "
I chuckle, thinking about the five of us in one room together. That would be entertaining, that’s for sure.
"Would that be okay?" she asks politely.
"Little sparrow, if you want a group date, we’re having a group date."
"It's not a date." The words blurt out. “I think.”
“You think?” I raise a brow.
“Actually, I need to tell you something else. A little more happened than just me falling asleep."
"Oh?" Call me intrigued.
"Damn, Lane. I know he's going to say something," she mutters.
"Okay, now I'm even more curious."
"Ughhhh. Why is this so hard to say out loud?" She covers her face with her hand. "I might have had a sex dream about Lane and River, and when I woke up, Lane was there watching me sleep."
My eyes widen briefly before I quickly compose myself. I open my mouth and close it again, trying to find the right words.
"And..."
"There's more?" I try my best to hold back a smile.
"I'm freaking mortified, okay." She sighs deeply. "I was turned on when I woke up, and I think Lane noticed because I was rubbing my legs together a little bit." She blushes a deep shade of red, glancing away from any direct eye contact.
"Of course Lane noticed that. Let me guess, he gave you hell for it? "
"Maybe."
"Don't let him pick on you." I lean in to press my lips to the side of her cheek. “You had a dream, so what? Even if it wasn’t a dream, you don’t have to be embarrassed.”
"You're really okay with me potentially, let’s just say, spending more time with them?” She doesn't specify what she's alluding to, but I know.
"I am, and I think the other guys are too." I leave out the fact that Ender most likely does not fit into that category.
She shifts as a few minutes of silence pass. "Do you think I can go home now?"
"If that's what you want. I’ll drive you and have one of the security guards follow behind us with your car. It should have calmed down. I can always give you something to keep your head covered if you want to avoid photos."
"Yes, please.” Her shoulders relax. “I like it here, but I miss my bed, and I need to check in with Rayne. The last time I didn’t keep in contact with her, she threatened to file a police report."
"Yeah, we don't want that." I laugh, trying to keep the mood light. Letting her go home is the last thing I want, but we can't force her to stay. "I might need to make a confession, too."
"Don't keep me in suspense. You're stressing me out."
"I hired security for you. Please don't be upset. I only wanted to make sure nobody hurt you when I couldn’t be around."
"Someone has been watching me, and I didn't notice?"
"I told him to keep a distance until I was able to tell you about him. "
She rolls her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I'm not going to be upset because I know your heart was in the right place, and I appreciate that. Please don't keep things from me again."
"It won't happen again."
"Okay." She slides off the bed, standing next to it, and I already miss the warmth of her skin on mine.
"Get me home pretty please.”
It’s the last thing I want to do, but I go through the motions anyway. The tour will start soon enough, and we won’t have to say goodbye like this anymore.