Chapter 5
Phoenix
The clang of metal echoes through the old station as I slam the cabinet shut. The sound carries through the quiet building like a warning shot fired straight into the gut of the morning silence.
I hope it wakes Myles, the bastard.
Zane left for his daily hunting and foraging just before I came down to the kitchen. I heard the front door creak open about twenty minutes ago. But he’s usually gone long before I wake up.
I bet he went to see her.
That girl. The feral little stray Myles decided to ‘rescue’. And now Zane’s doting on her too, like we’re running a fucking shelter for the poor and needy.
The smell of scorched coffee from yesterday still clings to the air, bitter and burned, mirroring my mood. I hate this fucking place. It always feels damp in the mornings, like the walls are sweating with guilt.
Fitting.
And now... I hate it even more. Because we have a pest.
Another mouth to feed. Another liability. Another goddamn variable in a system I spent years perfecting.
They still look to me for orders, as if we never stopped being soldiers. Zane wasn’t in the military, but he was trained like one in his last group. I was Myles’s commanding officer before the world went feral and his loyalty ran deeper than I ever expected.
Sure, I have twenty-eight years of experience, but six of those have been post-collapse.
Still, having a chain of command gives us some structure. Everything here has a rhythm. Just like back in the army.
It took me ages to build something that worked. Now it’s going to fall apart because Myles found a pair of blue eyes that cry for him.
Rubbing my hand down my face, I recall the way Myles hauled the girl over to us like a kid on Christmas morning. His mask hid his face, but I knew the grin he wore underneath.
He used to look at me like that. Like I was the oxygen to his flame. Now he’s panting after some half-starved stray who couldn’t handle him if she tried.
I should’ve just told him ‘No’. Should’ve put my foot down.
But I learnt long ago that makes him fight harder. He’s always been volatile, even back in our unit. But back then, I had command. Now, I’m just keeping the leash short and hoping he doesn’t bite.
This time, it’s better to let him burn out than get in the way of that fire. Especially over something so insignificant. Some fragile, wide-eyed girl.
Myles will get sick of her quickly. I'm certain. He’s twenty-five, his blood runs hot and his attention span is limited.
Although the way he was grinning last night, like he’d just brought home a stray dog we could train… that concerns me.
He was vibrating with energy. The same kind of manic energy he used to reserve for me, and only me. And that digs under my skin like a splinter.
OK, so maybe it’s not concern.
What the hell does that scrawny girl have that made Myles light up like that?
What does she have that I don’t?
The thought makes my chest feel tight.
And no, it’s not just jealousy. Myles and I were never exclusive. I am genuinely concerned for our group…
Mark my words, she’s a problem waiting to happen. She’ll ruin everything we’ve built. A girl like that is bound to be full of secrets, bringing unpredictable risks that could destroy everything.
And I hate the way Myles looks at her like she’s worth that risk.
It’s pathetic. The way they’re both revolving their days around her already.
She even has Zane fooled. Though that's not entirely out of character for the big softy. He didn’t say much when Myles grabbed her, but I caught the way he was looking at her.
And now he's wasting his hunting vantage just to sneak in to see her.
Please.
You’d think the biggest one of us would be the coldest. But those broad shoulders just make more room for that huge bleeding heart. Always trying to make things right. Always carrying the guilt of everything he’d done to survive before we’d found him bleeding in a ditch three years ago.
The creak of the stairs pulls me out of my thoughts before I can bury myself deeper. I don't have to turn around to know it's Myles with his obnoxious steps coming toward the kitchen.
Confident, even half asleep.
At least he doesn't sneak around like Zane.
“Morning,” Myles mutters through a yawn, scratching the back of his neck as he pads into the kitchen half dressed.
His black cargo pants hang low on his hips, displaying the groves of his v-line and the tattoo that dips into his waistband. His sun-kissed hair is styled like usual, spiked up at the front, the honey blonde catching the warm light of the morning.
Even half awake, he looks like a storm contained in a pretty boy's body. I’d even once described him as beautiful… in a moment of weakness. And he never let me forget it.
I glance at him from the corner of my eye. “Coffee’s not hot, make it yourself.”
Myles smirks sleepily and grabs a mug anyway. “Damn, someone’s in a mood. You seriously still mad? You've been sulking since I brought her in.”
“Zane only just left,” I say, ignoring the subject and his dig at me. Leaning back against the counter, I fold my arms over my chest, showing him I'm not amused by his antics.
Myles raises an eyebrow, taking it as a challenge, as the corner of his lips curl upward while he fills his mug with the cold coffee.
“Bet he stopped by the holding room first. Can't resist a damsel in distress.”
When I don't answer Myles’s grin only widens, and there's something smug in the way he leans against the opposite counter.
“I doubt she'll talk to him. She never said a word last night, just cried and stared with those big, frightened eyes. Kinda cute, actually. Pretty little thing too, even with the dirt on her cheeks,” he continues casually.
My hands curl into fists on the counter behind me, but I keep my mouth shut. I know he's trying to get a rise out of me. Myles loves to pick a fight. Always acting on impulse and collecting trouble like it's a game.
“Think she'll start talking today?” He continues as he sips that foul coffee. “Maybe she just needs the right kind of... encouragement. Girls like that always act tough at first. But they break easy.”
“Well the sooner you ruin your new toy, the sooner we can stop wasting food on her,” I bite back, jaw tight. And maybe I’ll stop feeling this sick gnawing thing in my chest whenever you talk about her.
Myles’s eyes flicker with satisfaction. Fuck, he knows how to bait me. How to make me jealous.
“You'll come around. You'll see how useful it can be to have a woman around,” Myles replies casually.
“Fat chance,” I retort, rolling my eyes. “Go play with your toy. I don't give a fuck what you do. Just don’t expect me to clean up the mess.”
The lie sours on my tongue, so I turn away before he can notice, and grab a frying pan from the drying rack.
Behind me, Myles just hums in response, as he grabs a can of fruit from the cabinet.
Silence stretches between us, broken only by him clattering around looking for a spoon.
My stomach churns with something ugly. The thought of Myles going into that room, leaning over her, touching her. Peeling back her fear like it’s something to be earned… it sits in my chest like acid.
It’s not about her. I couldn’t care less. In fact, I almost dragged her out myself last night. One small body wouldn’t be hard to deal with on my own.
She's just a stray. Nothing special. And she won’t survive the heat of Myles’s passion. With the way that he burns, she'll be lucky to last the week.
But he doesn’t get to burn this place down with him.
I’ll let him play with fire for now, but I’ll be there to stamp it out before it spreads.