Chapter 25
Shannen
I don’t even know how many emotions I’ve burned through since leaving the gala—I lost count somewhere between panic and homicidal rage. All I know is that anger is the only thing left now, and it’s eating me alive.
I pace my apartment like a caged animal while Lianna watches me from the kitchen island, perched there like she’s waiting for me to completely lose my shit, which, if I did, would be fucking valid, considering they had a gun pointed at Phoenix’s head.
They dumped us at home in an unmarked cop car with nothing but a half-assed “Stay put” and an even more half-assed “You’ll give your statements tomorrow.” Like we’re supposed to just sit here and wait.
“How long does it take to get a fucking phone call?” I snap, spinning on my heel so hard I nearly trip. I reach down, unstrap my shoe, and launch it across the room.
“Come and sit down.”
“Lianna—”
“Sit. Down.”
“Why are you so calm?”
“I’m not. I’m fucking pissed that Phoenix didn’t listen to me, but I’m also delighted that he beat the shit out of James. The only thing that would’ve made it better is if he’d kicked him in the dick hard enough to make sure the fucker never felt pleasure again.”
“He’s God knows where, and I—I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do. Who do I call? I have money. I can post bail. I can hire the best lawyers in the city. I can—”
“Come and sit down.” She pushes a large glass of wine toward me. “I have a plan.”
I stop pacing and stare at her before I cross to the island, grab the wine, and knock it back in three gulps, and she refills it immediately.
“You have a plan?”
“Well, it’s not really my plan. It’s Phoenix’s. He knew this could happen. Fucker. I tried to stop him, but we saw you on that dancefloor, Shannen. We saw James put his hands on you, and Phoenix lost it.”
“I could’ve handled it.”
“He couldn’t. That’s the point. That’s why he had a plan for this.”
“And you’re just telling me now?” My hands are shaking, and I can’t make them stop.
“Considering we’ve been surrounded by a bunch of corrupt dickbags since it happened—yeah, I’m just telling you now.”
“Okay. Fuck. Okay. What is it?”
“He gave me two numbers. He said if shit went sideways, ask for Lucien or Cain, and they’d know what to do.”
Lianna sets the phone down and hits the speaker button. It rings twice before the call connects.
Silence.
“Hello?” Lianna says, irritated as hell.
“Who is this?”
“Is this Cain or Lucien?”
The silence stretches so long I think he might’ve hung up.
“Well, whichever one of you it is, Phoenix told me to call you, and it’s pretty fucking serious, so—”
“It’s Lucien. Is he okay?”
Lianna meets my eyes. “No. We don’t know. We’ve been told he’s in jail, but that’s all we know.”
“Lawson… I fucking warned him.”
“Yeah, well, your pep talk clearly didn’t work, considering he snapped that asshole in half in the middle of a fucking ball full of elitist shitlickers.”
I hear the Fuck under his breath, and if this guy is worried, then I’m scared that Phoenix is really in trouble.
“Look, he gave me your number and told me to call you if anything happened. He said you’d know what to do.”
“Is Shannen there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Are you okay?”
“Am I okay? Yeah, I’m fucking fantastic… I need you to find him so I can bail him out.”
“That won’t work. There’s too much power behind James Lawson. You’ll never get Phoenix out that way.”
“Don’t say that to me.”
“I’m serious. There’s nothing you can do here. Your money won’t fix this.”
“So what? I’m just supposed to leave him?”
“No, you’re supposed to leave it to us. We’ll handle it.”
“When?” I’m practically shouting now. “When will you handle it? Will he be okay?”
“Right now, the priority is you. That’s all he’s going to be thinking about.”
I want to scream at this stranger on the phone and demand answers he clearly isn’t going to give me.
“We’ll fix this. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but we’ll get it done. But you need to trust me, and you need to stay where you are, or it’ll only make things worse.”
“Listen, asshole, the love of her life is probably looking at ten to fifteen years in a cell that smells like piss, so forgive me if your vague reassurance isn’t doing it for me.
Now you and your brother need to pull your fingers out of each other’s asses and go get him, because if I have to come find you, I’ll take a page from Phoenix’s book and snap your legs like twigs. ”
I stare at her, wide-eyed, and she shrugs, unapologetic and unbothered as ever, while we both go quiet, listening to the stretch of silence on the other end.
“Lianna Monroe…”
He draws out her name slowly, and I’m not even surprised that Phoenix’s people know everything about everyone in my life.
“Call me back the second you know anything,” Lianna snaps and hangs up.
I run my hands through my hair, leaning forward until my elbows hit the counter. “I can’t leave him in there, Lianna. I feel useless.”
“You have to trust his friends at this point.”
“What if they can’t get him out? What if this doesn’t go away?”
“No. We’re not thinking like that. I actually like the psycho.”
“Me too,” I whisper, and a tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it.
After sending Lianna home sometime in the middle of the night to get some sleep because I sure as hell wasn’t getting any, and there was no point in both of us sitting around waiting for a phone that clearly wasn’t going to ring—I peeled off my dress, leaving it in a heap on the bathroom floor, and took a shower.
I stood there trying to erase the memory of Phoenix being ripped away from me, of his eyes finding mine one last time before they dragged him out of the building, but it didn’t help.
Not the shower or the vodka I poured straight after—it’s all just fucked.
I threw on a pair of sweats and his black T-shirt, which I’ve been holding to my face like some deranged idiot, breathing him in and rocking in my chair like I’m seconds from either breaking down or burning the whole city down to find him.
I’m basically Bella Swanning it.
It’s been hours.
Fucking hours, and I’m still as in the dark as I was when they took him away in cuffs.
I can’t lose him. I won’t.
I feel like some lost girl who can’t function without a man, and that’s never been me.
I’ve survived abandonment and betrayal and years of building a life on being fine on my own, but now I can’t even breathe at the thought of him being gone.
And if that makes me vulnerable, if it makes me weak, if it makes me everything I swore I’d never be, then screw it.
I’ll take the weakness and the fear and the soul-crushing terror of needing him this much if it means I get to keep him this time, because a life without him isn’t a life I want to live anymore. I had ten years of that hollow, half-alive bullshit, and I’m done.