Ember

by Rachel Van Dyken

  My gut clenched. I’d forgotten that Bee had even heard that. “Bee, it doesn’t excuse what I did, what my family did.”

  “My father helped.”

  “Yeah, well, both our dads weren’t the greatest.” I kept playing with her hair. “Guess I don’t have very big shoes to fill.”

  “They don’t even have shoes. You get to start over with a brand new pair.” Bee smiled up at me, her eyes shining with adoration. “You’re going to be the best dad in the world.”

  My heart strained and beat wildly in my chest; emotion clogged my throat making it hard to breathe. “You think?”

  “I know.” Bee reached for my face. “You’re going to be incredible.”

  “You can’t drop out of school.” I flicked her nose. “That’s the rule. We do this, we get married, but you have to stay in school and…” I shrugged.

  “Do my homework every night? Drink milk?” she teased. “You still going to boss me around?”

  “I’m not bossy,” I said defensively.

  “Okay then.” Bee laughed. “Says the guy who forced my poor ears to listen to Mozart then asked if I had lunch money.”

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Yeah well… I can’t help but worry about you.”

  “If it’s a boy…” Bee said, changing the subject. “I want to name him Phoenix.”

  “What?” I almost pulled away, almost ran out of the room screaming. “Why the hell would you curse a kid with my name?”

  “It’s not a curse…” Bee squeezed my hand. “It’s redemption… he’s your miracle, Phoenix. Our miracle.”

  “What if it’s a she?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “Name her Tex to piss my brother off.”

  We both burst out laughing as a loud banging sounded at the door. “You better not be naked!”

  “Quick, put your clothes on!” I shouted.

  Tex burst through the door.

  “Gross, brother.” Bee scrunched up her nose. “I could have been naked!”

  “Yeah, well…” Tex turned bright red and scratched his head. “I thought that… um, you see—”

  “Go away, Tex.” I waved him off then kissed his sister soundly on the mouth. “We’re going to be busy for a while.”

  “And that’s how babies are made, boys and girls,” Chase said from the door.

  Tex shoved past him while Nixon burst out laughing.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  The story doesn’t end happy… not by a long shot.

  Sergio

  THE COFFEE TABLE FELT too small to be sitting at with Frank. He kept eyeing the coffee cup in my hand like it was going to spontaneously combust and turn into a bomb, killing everyone in its vicinity.

  “So...” Frank folded his hands on the table. “…you realize you will be punished.”

  “Yeah,” I croaked. “I do.”

  “We cannot simply allow this to be looked past. It will appear… weak.” Frank licked his lips and took a long sip of his coffee. “And weakness means the family crumbles. It means people start talking. They start asking questions — they start doubting our leadership.”

  My stomach sank with every word.

  “What do I need to do?” The question burned like acid on my tongue.

  With a smile his eyebrows rose. “A very long time ago, I promised my brother that I would never interfere with love again — that I’d allow things to progress naturally. I promised him that family would win above all else.”

  I wasn’t sure where he was going with that.

  “The Russians have their use.”

  And that was it.

  He didn’t say anything more.

  Tex charged into the room with Nixon and Chase hot on his heels. They all sat at the table and stared at me.

  I didn’t belong anymore.

  I was the betrayer.

  Funny, because in the grand scheme of things, I’d ended up becoming exactly what I hated — a rat.

  All because I’d been trapped.

  But that’s the thing about the human condition; you’ll do anything to survive, things you would never entertain, thoughts you’d always pushed away. Hell, I’d judged men for doing what I did. But when put in the position to choose myself over my family? I’d chosen myself.

  “Did you tell him?” Tex asked.

  “Not yet.” Frank smiled. “Not yet.”

  “Tell me what?”

  Nixon spoke in a low tone. “Your new job.”

  I had a feeling my new job was going to be in the depths of hell — where no one would hear me scream.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  And the Phoenix rose up from the ashes…

  Bee

  MY GUNSHOT WOUND MADE it near impossible to do anything except allow Phoenix to kiss me — which I was totally okay with.

  He kissed.

  He touched.

  And he made me stay still — which was ridiculously hard to do when he started peeling my clothes from my body and using his tongue in places I wasn’t aware were allowed.

  His mouth made its way to mine; his kiss always felt like the first time, like he put every emotion he had into that one gesture, ignoring the rest of the world. Letting everything fade into the swirly grey of nothingness — it was only us, our mouths meeting, touching, caressing.

  Phoenix pulled back and stared into my eyes. “You make me crazy.”

  “A good crazy, right?” I whispered.

  “Great crazy…” His smile still made my heart jump in my chest. “The kind of crazy men don’t ever get over — the type of crazy I want to embrace every day I have breath in my body.”

  “You know…” I giggled. “…you’re turning into quite the romantic.”

  He laughed. “And to think… it all started with food.”

  “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” I said, feeling wise.

  “Bee, you know…” Phoenix’s eyebrows scrunched up like he’d just seen a really hard math problem and wasn’t sure how to work it. “…I’m not perfect.”

  “You sure?” I looked down. “Because, compared to all those statues you aren’t supposed to stare at in the museum, you’re pretty perfect… all tight muscles.”

  “Bee,” he warned.

  I reached for him. “Hard.”

  He let out a hiss of air then cursed graphically.

  “I’m sorry.” I pulled my hand back. “What were we talking about?”

  “You.” He took my mouth again. “Being the death of me.”

  “What a great way to go.” I licked his lower lip.

  “Wait.” he pulled back. “I’m trying to have one of those moments here…”

  “Oh, my gosh, a magic carpet moment?”

  Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Yeah, where we hold hands and bleed our feelings.”

  “Do tell.” I waggled my brows.

  “You’re impossible.”

  “You love me.”

  “Desperately.” His voice shook.

  “So?”

  “I’m not perfect.”

  “Wait, are we just repeating ourselves now?”

  “Bee, please.” He gripped my hands. “Let me finish.”

  “You already did…” I winked and whispered across his mouth, “…twice.”

  “God forgive me, I’ve turned you into a sexual deviant.” He pulled me into his embrace and rubbed my arm absentmindedly. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose this.”

  “My arm?”

  “And what it’s attached to.” He sighed. “I’m afraid of feeling. I’m so afraid, Bee, that one day I’ll wake up and—” His voice cracked. “—this, what I feel for you, what we have, will either disappear or I’ll somehow mess it up. That’s all I ever did,” he choked out. “I messed things up, made things bad.”

  My heart clenched.

  That’s what happens when you fall in love. When the person you share your soul with hurts, you hurt right along with him, only you wish you could take the pain so you wouldn’t have to watch them suffer.


  “We aren’t promised perfect, Phoenix.”

  “I don’t need perfect.” He held me tighter. “I just need you. Always.”

  “You have me.”

  “Promise not to ever let go.” His voice was desperate. “I know it sounds weak, but I’m so sick of trying to look strong, trying to be strong, God, Bee, I just need you to let me be weak in this moment and tell you that you’re the reason I’m able to breathe a little easier every day. You’re the reason my heart’s able to beat without shattering in my chest.” He sighed. “I guess what I’m saying is… you’ve brought me back to life — and after being dead so long — I’m terrified.”

  My eyes welled with tears. “Small steps, Phoenix… remember?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Small steps… little moments… each second is another one we get together. Right?”

  He exhaled. “Right.”

  “But tell me…” I cupped his face. “Don’t ever feel like you have to keep things inside, even if they’re scary.”

  “Bee, I’d never expose you purposefully to the scary.”

  “But you can.” I encouraged. “Because you don’t have to do it by yourself anymore.”

  “A stronger man would.”

  “A strong man…” I licked my lips to keep myself from bursting into tears at his broken face. “…knows when to ask for help.”

  “Help.” He parroted, his lips finding mine. “That’s what you were at first… a lifeline.”

  “And now?”

  “My savior,” he said in a reverent voice.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Life… but new life.

  Phoenix

  IT HAD BEEN A whole week since Bee got shot — and I was still a complete mess. Every time she moaned in her sleep, I was terrified that we hadn’t actually gotten the bullet, and she was going to die.

  It had taken four doctor visits.

  And each of the four doctors had to say to my face, “She’s just fine.”

  “And the baby?” I’d ask in that same panicked voice I’d come to recognize as my own when anything I loved was in jeopardy. “How’s the baby?”

  “Just fine.” They’d patted me on the back and walked away while Bee rolled her eyes and gave me a duh look.

  I could always count on her to bring humor into every single situation, either that or drive me insane with her saucy looks and inability to keep her hands to herself.

  Ever.

  Family dinners would never be the same with her.

  Nixon cleared his throat. “Good tradition, Mo.”

  “Why, thank you, evil spawn.” She winked and lifted her wine glass while Nixon rolled his eyes and kissed Trace on the head.

  Everyone had someone.

  But Sergio?

  He was still waiting for orders from Tex, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before the guy decided to shoot himself because of the suspense.

  “Family dinner...” Tex rubbed his hands together. “…and Chase cooked.”

  “Because Chase is the only guy here who knows how.” Chase scowled and hit Tex’s hand as he reached for the chicken. “We pray first.”

  “Whose turn is it?” Trace asked.

  “Phoenix—” Nixon barked. “—you say the prayer.”

  I’d never been asked to say the prayer at the family gatherings — ever.

  It was a thing of honor. Plus, why have the guy who raped girls talk to God? Didn’t seem the best way to get the Big Guy upstairs to listen.

  I cleared my throat, hands suddenly clammy, and began my prayer while everyone made a cross with their hands.

  “Thank you…” I forced the words past my lips. “…for this food...” I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them and looked around the table. “…for family, for this family.”

  Nixon’s gaze met me across the table as he whispered, “Amen.”

  Bee didn’t let go of my hand.

  Which was fine. I was used to her hanging on to me, whether it be my hand, my leg, my hair — now that it was grown out, that seemed to be a personal favorite. She said it was a way to desensitize me since I’d gone so long without any good touching.

  At first it made me feel awkward.

  Now I craved it.

  And missed it when she forgot — not that I’d ever admit that out loud, least of all in front of Tex, who still gave me dirty looks whenever he remembered that I was, in fact, marrying his sister and having a child with her.

  Bee released my hand.

  I felt the emptiness immediately.

  She placed it on my thigh.

  Shit, not again.

  “So…” Tex said, grinning. “…everything’s back to normal for a while.”

  “Yup.” Chase lifted his wine glass then looked down at my lap, his grin widened. “I just love family dinners.”

  With my free hand, I gripped my knife and pointed it in his direction while he elbowed me, almost making me drop it onto the table.

  “You kids alright?” Nixon asked.

  “Phoenix is awesome… aren’t you, big guy?” He shoved me again.

  The knife was looking better and better; one stab, just to jolt him out of his chair and get him off my back.

  “Yeah,” I answered, choosing peace over violence. Wow, that must be what growing up felt like.

  Bee’s hand inched closer to the button of my jeans, and then slid, strategically, past the barrier.

  Before she could excite me any further, I gripped her hand, shoved her away from my pants, and stood, pulling her to her feet to block all evidence of what she’d just been doing.

  “Be right back.” I gently pushed her toward the hall.

  “Don’t break anything!” Chase called.

  Tex stood from his seat. “Is Bee okay? Bee, you sick? You need help?”

  “Let Phoenix take care of her.” Nixon chuckled into his wine. “Clearly that’s something he’s good at doing.”

  Tex’s eyes narrowed.

  I didn’t look back.

  Simply pushed my soon-to-be wife in the bathroom, locked the door behind me, and said in a raspy voice, “Strip.”

  She pouted. “Come on, it was funny… getting you all excited over the chicken dish. You love birds.”

  “I love you.” I reached for her shirt, giving it a little tug, and then pulled it over her head. “Now, take off your clothes before I rip them.”

  “I love it when you get bossy.” She held up her hands while I took the shirt off and stared at her naked breasts.

  “No bra?” I choked.

  “Why else would I use our safe word?” She giggled.

  “But you didn’t—”

  “I did…” She nodded. “Well, in a way, I mean, I pointed toward the chicken, which you should naturally assume meant bird, and then when that didn’t work, I took matters into my own hands.”

  “Literally,” I forced out in a dry voice.

  “Yeah, well…” She licked her lips and beckoned to me with her finger. “You have really nice hands…”

  “Better to tease you with.”

  “And your mouth?”

  “Better to taste you with.” I licked the seam of her lips.

  “Mmm…” She giggled and threw her head back as I kissed from her chin down her neck. “Keep going, and Tex is going to shoot you.”

  “It would be worth it.” I tugged at her jeans. “Totally worth it.”

  “Am I?” She wrapped her arms around my neck.

  “You were worth it… you still are. And you’ll continue to be worth it every single day.”

  “Love you, soldier man.”

  “Love you too, little girl.”

  EPILOGUE

  Sergio

  THE TABLE WAS CLEARED. The women, all but Mil, were in the other room getting dessert ready.

  And I was alone with all five bosses.

  Damn, just get it over with already.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  With a grin, Tex stood. “Th
at must be our guest.”

  “Guests?” I snorted. “At a family dinner?”

  Nixon and Chase shared an amused look with Frank, while Mil patted me on the hand. Hell, if that wasn’t a pitiful look I didn’t know what was.

  Crossing my arms, I clenched my teeth and waited for our guest to enter.

  “Sergio…” Tex led someone small into the room. A hooded sweatshirt hid the figure’s head and face, but pieces of blond hair poked out from underneath. “I’d like you to meet your new assignment.”

  The person turned and pulled the hood back.

  I choked. “Andi?”

  “Told you,” she whispered. “One day very soon you’d regret some things you’ve said to me.”

  “What the hell is a Russian whore doing in this house?”

  Three kicks, I counted, all from the direction of Mil.

  Andi’s eyes filled with tears. “Funny you should say that…”

  “Sergio.” Tex tilted his head, hatred dripping from every single cell in his body. “Your new assignment.”

  “Her?” I spat.

  “Keep her alive,” Frank said, “and protected from the Russians. Let her die in peace, son.”

  “Wait? What?” I shook my head. “You just said to keep her alive.”

  “Until I die,” Andi said softly. “Remember my condition? Leukemia? For my participation in your little shootout… that was the deal.”

  “Deal?” I was having a hard time breathing. “What deal?”

  “With Luca,” she whispered. “But I’m sorry it has to be you… I really am.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I shoved away from the table. “I don’t understand.”

  “Protection comes at a cost.” Frank stood. “We offer her protection in the only way we know how… blood.”

  My body went cold.

  “Your punishment…” Frank pointed his finger in my direction, his fist shaking. “You will protect her until she takes her last breath. You will protect her with your life… as her husband. We offer her family, since she’s lost hers. After all, it was a dying man’s wish — Luca’s wish — that if it ever came to this, she’d be taken care of.”

  “My punishment,” I repeated.