Chapter 13 Phoenix #2
“I picked you up from the airport. I drove you to the hotel. And when I got your bags out of the trunk, I lifted the book then. I took it, I left, and I got the wings inked on me immediately.”
“That was you… I was in the car with you that whole time?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Oh, fuck you, Phoenix.”
She spins, snatching her phone and purse off the desk, and storms toward the elevator, trying to outrun me. I pull my hoodie over my head, shoving myself fully back into my pants, and I’m after her before the fabric even settles on my shoulders.
She slams her finger against the elevator button like she thinks the doors will save her.
They won’t.
“Get away from me, Phoenix.”
She doesn’t bother turning.
She already knows I’m right behind her.
“I’m not in the mood for more of your shit right now.”
The elevator doors slide open, and she steps inside, but I’m on her ass, following her in before they can close.
“You know it’s just one thing after another with you. Fuck, how was I even considering trying to trust you?”
“It was a need-to-know, baby,” I bite out, stepping in close and crowding her against the mirrored wall. “And compared to everything else you’ve learned about me, I’d say this one ranks pretty fucking minimal.”
Her hands shove at my chest, but I don’t move. “Do you know how upset I was? I thought I’d lost it. I got drunk out of my mind over that sketchbook.”
The doors close, locking us in, and I’ve never been happier that she can’t run.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve given it back sooner, I know, but I’m trying to get back any piece of you I can. So yeah, I borrowed it—fucking sue me.”
“God, you’re so selfish.”
“Right,” I say, dry as hell, tilting my head. “Is that what I am?”
“You think everything you’ve done is for me, but it’s always been about you. Because you’re Phoenix fucking Cassidy, who does whatever the hell he wants, whenever he wants, as long as it props up the version of you you’re trying to sell that day.”
My hand slams down on the emergency stop button hard enough to dent metal. Shannen grabs the rail to steady herself and looks at me like she suddenly remembers exactly who she’s locked in here with.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you time.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” I stalk closer, eating up the space between us.
“I stole your book. I sat in that car with you. I was breathing you in every fucking second of that drive. I listened to every word that came out of your mouth, knowing exactly what you were there to do to me. And yeah, I lied. I deceived you that night, and I get why you’re pissed, but stop acting like you’re rejecting me because of that.
These aren’t deal-breakers. You’re just desperate to find a reason to run.
You’re blowing shit up just so you can pretend you don’t want me. ”
I grab the hem of my hoodie and yank it off again, letting it fall to the floor before I turn, facing the mirror instead of her, giving her a full view of me while I get her reflection.
She wants to shove me away.
She wants to press her mouth to my spine.
She wants to scream.
She wants to collapse into me and let herself go.
And the mirror shows me every last one of those impulses as they tear through her.
“These”—I gesture to my back, where the ink still burns a little under my skin—“have got you all over them. But they’re mine too, Shannen, and you know it.”
Her hand lifts, fingers flexing with the need to touch, but she stops herself before her skin meets mine.
“They represent how I live in your head. The way I always have.” I hold her eyes in the mirror, not letting her look away. “You put them there long before I ever took them. I just made it permanent.”
“What else don’t I know? There has to be more. There’s always more with you.”
I nod slowly, ready to give her the truth. Because the last thing she deserves is some watered-down version of who I am and what I'm capable of.
“I beat the shit out of Brandon Michaelson the night you left. The second that door closed behind you, I went straight for the one who started it all.”
“Is he…?”
“He’s alive. But I didn’t go easy on him, and it was still less than he fucking deserved.
” I turn to face her, closing the distance until she's pressed against the elevator wall. “I need you to know that I’d do it again. Do you understand me? I was always going to hurt him for what he did to you. He stole something from us, and I’m never going to be sorry for trying to take even a fraction of it back. ”
“This is going to be life with you in it, isn’t it? Up and down. Constant chaos. Me, never knowing what to expect.”
“There’s nothing else, baby. Nothing. I swear to you.”
She reaches past me, lunging for the elevator button, but I catch her wrist before she can make contact.
“We’re not leaving here until we’re right back where we were five minutes ago.”
“I was post-orgasm, Phoenix. Those feelings are gone.”
“Stop saying shit like that to me.” I cage her in with my body as my hand slams the wall beside her head, giving her nowhere to look or breathe that isn’t me.
“You’re fucking with me, and I need you to stop.
Stop giving me pieces of you, only to rip them away five seconds later.
It’s bullshit, and it’s unfair, and you’re not cruel, Shannen. ”
Please, baby.
Please stop acting like I’m something you can live without.
My hands twitch with the urge to grab her—her face, her waist, her throat, her entire fucking existence—and pull her back into me where she belongs.
“One more, Phoenix. One more lie and I swear—”
I don’t give her a chance to finish the threat. I crush my mouth to hers—lips, breath, every fucking memory we’ve ever buried—and god, she tastes exactly like I knew she would, like home and everything I’ve ever needed.
This isn’t just a kiss.
It’s a collision.
It’s two souls grabbing each other by the throat and saying, I’m never losing you again.
It’s the kind of kiss that kills every other possible future, because after this, there’s no future that isn’t her and me. There’s no other reality, no alternate timeline, no version of my life where she isn’t mine because nothing could ever come close to feeling like this.
I slide my tongue into her mouth and finally reclaim her.
There’s no asking for permission, no gentle coaxing, no restraint—I’m taking what should never have been kept from me in the first place.
My hand fists in her hair at the nape of her neck, dragging her head back so I can take more—more tongue, more of every single thing she’s kept from me for too long.
Her hands claw at my chest, sliding up my throat, her nails sinking into me. I kiss her. I kiss her and kiss her, desperate to make up for every day I couldn’t, while trying to stitch the past back together with every stroke of my tongue.
My heart’s beating so hard I can feel it in my throat, and my dick is straining painfully against my sweats.
I’m rabid for her.
When she rocks her hips into me, my patience doesn’t just break—it explodes like a star going full supernova, turning every thought I have into one primal need—for her to own me, possess me, and take what’s been hers since the day we met.
“Phoenix.” She gasps when my hand slides up her shirt, closing around her breast.
“I want to fuck you, pretty girl, but I need to feel that you’re mine. I need it to mean something. No more running. No more disappearing. I want you to take me, knowing it’s us. That you’re staying and that we don’t fucking break again.”