Phoenix (Flames & Ashes Book 1)

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Phoenix (Flames & Ashes Book 1) Page 37

by Carolyn Anthony


  42

  Jaxxon

  My phone blared through my somewhat empty den. I hit ignore for the fifth time and shut the fucker off. Bridge and my mom, taking turns, hounding my ass.

  I crossed my feet on the table, sitting on the couch watching a college football game I could have given a rat’s ass about. It was something to do, rather than go see my family. I’d be a in a dick mood, and they didn’t need to deal with my shit. While I felt some guilt about missing my nephew’s birthday, I’d make it up to Linc when I had the kids.

  Crossing my arms, I settled back, figuring I’d crash early. Not having my kids with me frosted my ass. They were the only two individuals who could break through the red fucking haze I couldn’t seem to find my way out of.

  This shit with Valentina had blindsided me, because I fucking knew she loved me, and I couldn’t wrap my head around her bailing. Knowing didn’t change the fact that I’d known better, but my instinct with her had been strong. I’d check the motherfucker from now on.

  I watched the players running around on the screen, not registering much of anything, and purposely ignored the real problem. I fucking loved Valentina, and she’d betrayed that. Done what I’d asked her not to do, compare me to that asshole she’d been married to and assumed she knew more about what I wanted than I did.

  At least I knew now she’d be okay. Annie would check on her. Despite wanting to wring her pretty neck for not having the balls to ante up, I knew she’d be hurting, and fuck me, I didn’t want to add to any more of her pain. It was her own goddamn fault, yeah, but when I closed my eyes, I still saw her jolting out of bed, caught in something too dark for me to comprehend. Too dark for her to trust me with.

  “Fuck this.”

  Shutting off my television, I got halfway down the hall to my office when some asshole pounded on my door. Tonight was not the night to save my soul or peddle Girl Scout cookies.

  I stalked through the family room. “Hold the hell on! Christ!”

  When I flung the door open, I had to bite back a growl.

  I needed this like a hole in the goddamned head.

  Pushing the door wider, I moved aside. “Where’s your damn key?”

  “Hello to you too, son. Forgot it’s on your mom’s key ring. Speaking of which, where’ve you been? Your mother’s all worked up.”

  Leaving my dad to shut the door, I walked ahead of him back to the family room, dropped into my chair and turned the TV back on. “Work.”

  Pops took a seat on my couch and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Work, my ass. You look like shit. Call your mother.”

  I wasn’t really feelin’ the visit right now. “I talked to Mom when she flew in, so if you’re about to lecture me, go ahead and save it, Pop.”

  Grabbing the clicker from where I’d thrown it on the coffee table, my dad shut my TV off. “If your mother’s upset, I’m upset, because I’m the one who deals with her, not you. So stop being a prick, Jaxx. What the hell’s going on?”

  I sat forward in the chair and shook my head. “Not the time.”

  “Make it the time.”

  Jesus Christ, I was a grown-ass man. I jerked out of my chair, towering over my father. “You know what—”

  His laugh got under my skin more than the lecture or his invasion of privacy. “You may be one big son of a bitch, but I can still take you, son. Drop the attitude. What’s up?”

  I was about three inches taller than my dad, and yeah, a lot bigger, but Dad was no joke. Even at his age. He’d grown up hard, and his career had demanded he know his shit. Retired or not, he was a badass. No matter how pissed I might be, I respected him enough to check myself.

  I let out a long breath and sat back down into my chair so hard I think I heard a crack. “Went with my instinct. Wrong move.”

  He nodded knowingly as he sat back and turned his face to me. “I’m guessing Valentina.”

  Didn’t take a fucking brain surgeon, now did it? “Yep. I’ll get over it.”

  “Yeah,” Dad scoffed and got up to walk to my kitchen. “Looks like it.”

  The door to my fridge opened and closed. When he returned, he threw a bottle of water into my lap, sat back with a beer and popped the top. “She say why?”

  “Does it fuckin’ matter?” Bad enough I still wasn’t over the whole thing. Talking about it like a chick wouldn’t get me over it any faster. It’d piss me off more.

  “Indulge me on this,” Dad said.

  Maybe it was my pop’s tone that made me turn to study him. I’m not sure, but something about it didn’t sit right and it was enough to spark my curiosity. Why should he give a shit? “Didn’t say much. Some copout, claiming I deserve better. Won’t talk. I’ve been there before. Can’t trust someone who won’t trust me. I’ve got more important shit to worry about. Leah exhausted my mind reading skills.”

  “Jaxxon—”

  “Nah, I’m good. I’ll figure it out.” I yanked my hat off and knotted my hair before slamming the hat back down on my head.

  My dad leaned forward again, staring at me. That was the thing about my old man. He had an intense stare that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “You’re a closed-mouth shithead when you’re pissed off.”

  “Fuck me,” I grumbled. “Shit got complicated and she bailed. That’s it. Nothin’ else to say.” I reached for the remote on the table again, but Dad was faster. I glared at him. “What? She’s just a woman, Pop. Not like there won’t be another one.”

  Yeah, it was true, but saying it out loud felt kinda fucked up. Valentina had a warmth and love to her I would miss for a long-ass time. I didn’t think I’d experience it again. I could admit that to myself, but it didn’t change shit.

  “Not like her, there won’t be,” my dad said quietly, which got my attention.

  What the hell? When did Pops become fuckin’ Yoda? “Dad, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve known Leah since I was seventeen. If you were getting all weird on me about her, I’d understand, but you don’t know shit about Valentina.”

  “She needs time.”

  The fuck?

  I was done with this conversation. “She’s had enough time. I can’t fix her, so fuck it. End of discussion.”

  “It’s not your job to fix her. It’s hers.”

  Who was this person impersonating my fucking father, going all self-help? “You met her once. Why do you give a shit?”

  The silence that filled the room was thick—uncomfortably, unnervingly thick. When my dad met my eyes, my fucking heart double-timed at the pain I saw reflected there. To say I was lost didn’t come close to covering it. “What the hell is with you?”

  “I met Valentina a very long time ago, Jaxxon.” He sighed and shook his head. “Despite what happened, not a name you forget.” He lifted his eyes back to mine. “I recognized her the second I saw her. The same big, green, frightened eyes that have haunted me for over two decades. Birthmark in the middle of her back?” He turned to me now. “Looks like a half-moon.”

  I stared. “The fuck?”

  My dad nodded and stared back at me. “She didn’t remember me the night you introduced us, but that’s to be expected. I can say this—a stronger will I’ve never seen.”

  My heart slammed inside my chest, a clear indicator I was about to stroke the fuck out. I shut my mouth when I realized it was hanging open. “Dad—”

  Pops shrugged, his gaze resolute. “It’s not my story to tell. Give her time. My guess is that she’s in love with you.”

  I didn’t doubt she was in love with me, but like she said, love wasn’t enough. Dad’s little revelation right now, though, trumped my lady bailing on me. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because of how you’re built,” he said, in a quiet voiced laced with sorrow. “She wouldn’t be with you if she wasn’t.”

  “The way I’m built?” I almost laughed, but caught it in time. “What does my build have to do with shit? What the fuck aren’t you telling me?” This was like
some alternate universe. Some story every motherfucker was in on except me.

  We sat there staring at each other for a long time. It was like I was looking at a stranger. An odd sensation, considering how close I was with my old man. From his demeanor, I could see he had nothing but faith in the woman who’d practically sprinted out of my goddamn house. “I’ve seen a lot—”

  I jerked to a stand. “Spare me the—”

  “Jaxx.” Again, he shook his head at me like I’d let him down. “I love you, son, but I need you to sit down, shut the hell up, and hear me out.”

  I almost kept standing on principle, but this shit kept getting more fucked up by the second—like a bad movie I couldn’t stop watching. I dropped back down in my chair. “Go.”

  “That girl loves you. I saw it in the way she looks at you.”

  He wasn’t wrong. The way she looked at me was one of the things I missed the most about her. She couldn’t hide shit. Her face spoke for her.

  “If you think she doesn’t love you, Jaxxon, you’re not as smart as I’ve always given you credit for. You’re gonna do what you’re gonna do. But I’m telling you, she’ll come around.”

  “Really? You want to tell me when you turned into Nostra-fucking-damus?”

  Pops stood up now. “Look, smart-ass, you’re a fixer. Always have been. It’s about time you realize some shit’s bigger than you.” He took a deep breath before looking at me again. “I will tell you this . . . Valentina experienced something you can’t fix. Only she can. So when she does come around, and I do believe she will, I hope you’re over your bullshit. And if you’re not, you let her go. Let her find a stronger man who can love her the way she deserves.”

  My dad was a good man. A hard man, except when it came to his family. The most shocking thing for me right now was the anger and concern lacing his voice wasn’t just for me; it weighed heavy in favor of Valentina. I was more lost than when he’d arrived.

  “Is this supposed to be some kind of fucked up pep-talk?”

  He sighed and dropped his head. “It’s supposed to open your goddamn eyes. You’re hurt and can’t see straight. You’re a control freak, son, and some things are beyond your control. It’s about time you learn that. Get over your shit.”

  After droppin’ that little bit of wisdom, he marched up the stairs and headed to the front door. Before I could digest any of the shit he’d just unloaded on me, my doorbell rang for the second time of the night.

  “Who the fuck is it now?” I roared and stood up.

  I needed to be alone.

  If this was my mother, there was gonna be a family heart-to-heart about boundaries while I personally drove them to the airport and threw both their meddling asses on a plane back home. If my mood was bad before, it was ten ways to fucked now.

  “Relax,” my dad’s distant voice echoed through my house. “I’ll get it.”

  I turned on the television again, figuring he’d let himself out afterwards. The front door hinges squeaked as he opened it.

  What I didn’t hear after a long while was the front door closing.

  43

  Valentina

  Five minutes of near hyperventilation and fogged up windows reminded me I still sat in my car, staring at Jaxxon’s house like a stalker. I forced myself out the door and quietly closed it behind me. Halfway up the walkway, a bone-deep chill flooded my system, taking my breath away. The salad I’d wolfed down in record time swirled in my gut. I swallowed hard, managing to keep the sour bile from flooding my esophagus. I wasn’t ready to face Jaxxon—what had I been thinking? With the way I’d left him?

  A stinging pressure burned behind my eyes and a constant pounding thundered against both temples.

  No. You can’t do this! He deserves at least this. And so do I.

  But not the way I’d originally intended to . . .

  My well-intentioned guerilla-style revelation approach, constructed miles away in my bathroom, had lost its allure on the drive over, along with any logic I’d associated with it.

  I had about thirty seconds to come up with something better, because for some insane reason, despite the onset of a panic attack I damn well deserved, my feet kept moving toward his front door.

  I’m stronger than this. Woman-the-fuck-up!

  Unable to hold back an absurd snicker, I stopped in front of his door. Jaxxon would have told me to breathe through this feeling—irony at its best.

  I rested my hand over the chilled doorbell, touching my finger to the button softly, gingerly, as if waiting for it to scorch me.

  I let out a long, unsteady breath and pressed the button.

  As the door swung open, for the first time since I’d gotten off at Jaxx’s exit, I relaxed the smallest bit.

  “Max,” I sighed before realizing I had interrupted him and Jaxxon. “Oh, God! I’m so sorry.” I stepped back off the porch. “I—I didn’t know you were here. I should have called. I can come back,” I gushed as he stepped outside and I backed another few steps away.

  Don’t hug me, Max. I won’t be able to hold it together.

  I retreated one more step now in the middle of Jaxxon’s walkway and lost the fight, because though I’d only met him once, I genuinely liked Jaxxon’s father. I forced myself to stay where I was and hold eye contact. “Can you please let Jaxxon know I stopped by? Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  When Max held out a hand to me, all I could do was stare at it.

  I chanced a glance up at him and managed a small smile. “It is nice to see you again.” I spun around, about to bolt back to my car and speed away.

  “Du schaffst das, meine Kleine . . . Don’t give up on him yet.”

  You can do it, my little one. That one phrase jerked me to a stop as if I’d stepped in wet concrete. Unable to take in a solid breath, the panting increased, and I shook my head at the fog rolling through my mind, trying desperately to clear it. By now, I knew what was coming . . .

  The dark California sky morphed into a freezing Washington night twenty-five years ago.

  Pain . . . too much.

  Something crinkly, wet, and sticky molds to my stomach, my breasts, my thighs. Scratchy, hard wool cuts into the gaping wounds covering my face. So tight, suffocating. Too much pain.

  A dog. Not far. Loud and muffled barking, right on top of me. So loud. Then silence. Glimpses of the blackest black is all I can see through my swollen eyelids.

  Stop fighting. Let the darkness hold you.

  Just make the pain stop.

  I jolt awake, choking against a hard plastic mask secured to my face. Once again, I am strapped down. But I am . . . moving. Everything around me is bright, so bright.

  Where is the monster?

  Sterile white and brilliant reds swirl before me. The bright lights accost me, burn, blind . . .

  In a moment of clarity, the flash of a clean-shaven face with golden-green eyes stares back at me. And a strong, warm voice speaks close to my ear.

  “Valentina . . . ”

  Safe. Knows my name.

  “Bleib bei mir! Stay with me!”

  In seconds, the man’s face blends with the other jumbled colors, but he is still beside me.

  My brain . . . so heavy, like it’s swelling against my cranium.

  A pinch I don’t have the energy to fight stings my arm and a wonderful, numbing sluggishness creeps through my body. The pain begins to die. The open wounds in my stomach, my legs, my breast, all numb now.

  Sleep.

  I’m ready to go . . .

  “Valentina . . . Valentina, can you hear me?”

  The voice is back . . . so calm.

  “Keep talking to her, sir. She’s stirring. We got lucky. The plastic stuck to the wounds, practically stopped the bleeding. I don’t know how, but she’s alive. Keep her alert a little longer, if you can.”

  A large hand gently rests on top of my head. Warm.

  I fight to keep my eyes open.

  Enough dark. So hard, though. Too . . . t
ired.

  “Du schaffst das, meine Kleine,” the voice demands. “You can do it, my little one. You stay with me. We’ve got you now. You’re safe. Atme, Valentina. Breathe—in and out. Good girl.”

  Safe. God heard me. Sent an angel.

  “She’s stable, lieutenant. We can let her rest now.”

  The hand stays on my head. A gentle finger wipes my cheek.

  “Shhh, rest now, but you will stay here. You hear me, Valentina. I know you do. You don’t get to leave. You’re too young to dance with angels. I’ll keep you safe.”

  When I give into the darkness this time, I’m not scared. The monster is gone. And an angel watches over me, demanding I stay with him, where it’s light. No more black. Safe.

  It was so clear—every last vivid detail.

  I twisted back around slowly and stared at the same man who’d told me not to leave once before. My entire torso concaved and a violent shaking racked my frame.

  “You,” I cried, reaching for him. “It was you!”

  He caught me before I fell and hugged me tight as I sobbed against his chest, unable to stop the vicious convulsions raging through me. My arms whipped around his waist reflexively and I clutched at the back of his jacket, trying to stay upright.

  “Shh, honey.” His chin rested on top of my head.

  “I—I,” I stammered against his wet shirt. Taking deep, fragmented breaths between sobs, I finally composed myself enough to pull back and look up at him.

  His hands locked around my shoulders, helping me stay upright.

  “It was you,” I wept, gripping his forearms. “How—how was it you?” My chin dropped to my chest as both a foreign sense of relief and a latent pain exploded through me. “It’s finally—finally all clear!” I stuttered. “I remember it all now—you, the ambulance, it was the missing part.”

  My parents had moved as soon as I was healed enough to travel, leaving behind the attack and anything associated with it, including the officer who’d found me and stayed with me.

 

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