Chapter 24
Phoenix
“Phoenix, look at me,” Lianna says, grabbing my arm.
Her nails bite into my skin, but I can’t feel it.
One, two, three, four, five…
Breathe, Phoenix.
FUCK. THAT.
Shannen's head turns back, and her eyes find mine across the room. I can feel every ounce of her panic as if it were my own, but she's not scared for herself. She's scared for me and what I'm about to become in front of all these people.
Too late.
“Phoenix, stop,” Lianna yells again, but it’s just noise.
My feet are already moving. Everything else fades to nothing—the shitty music, the even shittier crowd, Lianna's not-so-shitty voice screaming at me to stop—until all that remains is Shannen and the fucking corpse who doesn't know he's already dead.
Those eyes of hers say everything she can't.
Please don’t do this.
Don’t do it for me.
But she doesn't get it because she is the reason.
She's the only reason.
She knows exactly what's coming. I can see it written all over her face, but fuck it, I’m nothing if not consistent.
There’s nothing in my head except the absolute, undeniable need to make sure he never lays his hands on her again.
That’s all that exists.
There’s no thought about what this’ll cost me or a future beyond the next few seconds, when I’m going to shatter every bone in his body until the floor’s decorated in something that used to be him.
His head turns, and those smug eyes see me coming for him.
Good.
Shannen’s in my peripheral, her mouth moving frantically, forming words I can’t hear, but the rush of blood in my ears drowns out everything else.
Three more steps and…
Snap.
That’s the sound I hear when I wrench James’s hand off Shannen’s body and twist it behind his back until the bone breaks clean in half.
His scream comes next, and I fucking welcome it because I’ve been stuck listening to garbage music all night, and this is a nice upgrade.
It only gets louder when I drive my foot into the back of his knee, stomping down with every ounce of force I have until the joint shatters.
The crack is wet and sickening, and when he hits the floor, his body crumples to the ground like a broken puppet with its strings cut.
Everything suddenly blurs to slow motion and silence.
James rolling on the floor, screaming—gone.
The cries from the ballroom—can’t hear them.
All that’s left is Shannen and me.
Her chest rises and falls in shallow, terrified gasps that tell me she can’t get enough air. Her eyes—god, those beautiful fucking eyes—fill with tears that catch the light like stars breaking apart in real time.
“What have you done?” she whispers.
The heartbreak bleeding through those four words destroys something inside me, but I smile anyway because I protected her.
Nothing else matters but that.
I failed before.
I won’t fail again.
It’s what I’ve lived by since the day I found her.
“I love you,” I manage to say, needing her to hear it.
I need her to understand that everything I am—the violence, the obsession, the absolute destruction I’m capable of—it’s all for her.
The world suddenly comes back into focus as pure pandemonium erupts around me.
I hear the thunder of footsteps from every direction, and I’m tackled to the floor by what feels like an entire football team, bodies piling on top of me, hands wrenching my arms back with brutal force, twisting until the pain reaches my shoulders.
Worth it for her.
Screams fill the air around me, and I really hope at least some of them are James’s.
My cheek slams into the ground, and metal clicks as handcuffs lock around my wrists.
When I look up, a gun is pointed directly at my face.
“Don’t fucking move!” the rent-a-badge barks, his hands shaking like he’s never held anything bigger than his own dick.
Really, it’s a dumbass thing to say when five guys are pinning me to the floor like I’m about to grow wings and fly through the ceiling.
These idiots think I’ve lost my mind.
I haven’t.
I just did what needed to be done.
His hands were on her, and I removed them.
It’s simple math, really.
A plus B equals a broken arm.
Add C, and you get cartilage too.
Throw in D for disrespecting my woman, and you get your face smashed into the floor.
“No!” Shannen screams.
“Move!” someone snaps at her, and I try to turn my head, just enough to catch a glimpse of the face. Whoever just raised his voice at her, I'll deal with him later.
“Someone get this prick out of here!”
Prick.
That’s me, apparently.
I might care more if someone’s knee wasn’t currently grinding into my spine. My face is still ground-level with the floor, and when I lift my eyes, that gun’s still waiting for me, aimed right between them.
“Phoenix… No, Phoenix—”
“Get out of here, Shannen,” I yell, because I need her away from the dickhead with the itchy trigger finger. “Baby, go. Now.”
“I’m not—I won’t,” she sobs, knowing exactly how fucked I probably am right now.
Because how am I getting out of this?
I just broke a man’s arm and leg in front of two hundred witnesses in a ballroom full of the city’s elite. There’s no talking my way out of this, and we both know it.
“Why did you do that?” she cries.
I hiss as they pull at my arms again.
“Because no one touches you like that. No one.”
They start hauling me up, and I grunt, trying to twist enough to see her.
“I love you, okay? You’ll be okay.”
“No.” She’s shaking her head frantically, her hands reaching for me even as someone holds her back, keeping her away from me.
“He’ll be okay,” Lianna says, trying to calm my girl down, but even the look on her face says she doesn’t believe it.
I’m already being dragged out of here like an animal with my hands cuffed and my ribs aching, but I can’t help but smile. I can still hear James’s screams in my ears, and for my girl and every other woman he’s ever put his hands on without permission, it was worth it.