Little Phoenix (The Census Book 1)

by Willow Dean

  The cool trickle of water down the back of my throat is just as satisfying as an ice cream on a hot summer's day. Sighing in appreciation when the glass is emptied, I’m rewarded with a deep rumbling chuckle.

  Once he steps away though, my thoughts immediately sober up and I return to what I was trying to ask.

  “Why are you guys here? Where are my parents? Do they know I’m here? Do they know what happened?” I croak worriedly.

  They each look at one another like they’re having a silent conversation. I know they’re hiding something. I just don’t know what.

  None of this is making any sense. Sure, I may have some memory loss, but this whole situation just screams warning, stay away! Avoid at all costs.

  I just can’t figure out why.

  Surely though, if I’d had an accident as bad as they say I did, then why aren’t my parents here with me?

  Jax starts speaking again. I presume he’s the one telling me out of the three of them because he has such a calm and placid demeanor. Meaning, there really isn’t anything great about the answers that he’s about to give me.

  Taking both of my hands this time, I’m sure the movement is meant to be reassuring, yet it just fuels my anxiety even more. “Mila, what was the last thing that you remember?”

  I think carefully before responding. Snippets of memories come drifting back to me slowly as a smile overtakes my face.

  “Me, Gem and my parents went out to celebrate my eighteenth birthday last week. We went to the Italian on west gate and then to the desert gallery after.”

  It was definitely one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had. After watching Pac Man at the old cinema in town, we decided to go to my favorite Italian place, which was followed by copious amounts of sugar, chocolate and coffee at the desert gallery.

  Mum gifted me this beautiful white dress too, with one side off the shoulder and the other sleeveless. If I remember correctly, I wore it to that college party with Gem as well.

  I shiver at the memory.

  That was where I met that creep that Austin tackled off me, leaving Jax to swoop in in all his fiery glory to take a look at my ankle.

  Glancing up at Aus, I give him a gratifying smile. The memory of waking up swaddled in his leather jacket and wrapped in his husky scent causes my cheeks to flush.

  Averting my eyes, I look down at my hands that are encased in Jax’s tender grip as other fragments of disjointed memories slowly start to trickle back.

  Breathtaking scenery. Marshmallows roasted over open campfires and impromptu sing songs. Beautiful hikes and fishing in the lake, followed by warm and relaxing natural springs.

  Glass shattering. Gem’s screams. Gunfire. The bullet hole in Mum’s head. Dad screaming her name.

  Agony flaring in my stomach. Broken glass and shredding skin. Dad’s frantic pleas for me to run as he tries desperately to free himself from the wreckage.

  Acrid odors of charred flesh, smoke and the tinge of copper. The breath being forced from my lungs as the wreckage explodes and catapults me through the air, leaving nothing but a pile of flaming, molten metal behind.

  A white-eye and jagged scar staring deep into my soul as pure hatred and anger overwhelms me.

  Missing teeth and the stench of foul breath as I’m held against a chest and finally, insufferable agony before the blackness finally descends.

  Snatching my hands back, I cradle my head and curl in on myself at the onslaught.

  Each image doing it’s very best to rip another part of my heart from my chest.

  Everyone I loved…poof! Gone.

  Mum is dead. Dad is dead. Gem is dead.

  All of them. Dead. Gone. Alone.

  Completely alone.

  Sobs wrack my body. My chest feels like it’s been hit with a sledgehammer and a headache begins to pulse. A keening sound escapes my lips as a set of hands reaches out to comfort me.

  I lash out, trying desperately to throw them off me. I don’t want the comfort. I don’t deserve it. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to be here.

  I don’t deserve to be alive. I did nothing. I couldn’t save them.

  Just let me go!

  No one will be there, waiting for me to come home. No one will be there to plait my hair for me or make me dinner after a long day at college.

  No one will be there to give me bad dating advice. No one to take me climbing or play the guitar whilst I sing along.

  No one will be there to cuddle up with me when the world pulls the rug from under my feet or when life gets to be too much.

  No one. Nothing.

  Only one thing is important now.

  All grogginess and lethargy suddenly disappears. Mercifully, the images dissolve into nothing as only one thought rings true through the overwhelming darkness.

  Vengeance.

  Releasing my head, my resolve hardens. Uncaring of the world around me, I rip the tube out of my arm and throw it to the side, unconcerned about the blood trickling down my arm from the now empty insertion site.

  Flinging back the covers, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and go to stand. Stopped only by Rick who is somehow already in front of me.

  “Move,” I demand, my voice emotionless. That singular word repeats itself over and over in my head.

  Nothing else matters but vengeance.

  “M,” he says softly as he crouches down in front of me, speaking as if he’s trying to talk down a wounded animal. “You know I’m not going to do that. You’re not fit enough to go anywhere right now. You’re still recovering from a very big ordeal and that’s why we are here. To support you. To help you. You just need to let us in.”

  I’ll give him credit. He sure knows how to play the sympathy card. Yet, it’s futile. Nothing can penetrate the haze of numbness that surrounds me.

  “I. Said. Move,” I growl. With each passing second, the numbness recedes a little. Agony and sorrow take its place, yet I can’t let them break through or else I won’t be able to do what I set out to do.

  I can mourn for my loss later. Right now though, I need to get out of here and find that son of a bitch so I can kill him in the most agonizing way possible.

  No. Not kill. Death is too kind. I’ll keep him in a state of excruciating suffering for the rest of his miserable life for everything that he has done.

  My life is of no consequence anymore. I have nothing left to live for.

  Rick still hasn’t moved from my side, except he now stands with his arms wide open, palms facing towards me. A silent move to show that he won’t touch me, but that he doesn’t plan on letting me go either.

  The walls in my mind crack and strain that little bit further. The pain slowly creeps back under my skin with every ragged breath I take.

  He tries to speak again. “M-”

  “Move!” I scream, cutting him off as I gasp for air.

  I need to get out. I need to find him. He needs to suffer.

  Desperation and panic filters in through the cracks as a beautiful set of glazed over, powder blue eyes stare back at me lifelessly.

  Dread and terror on a blurry face that watches on, helpless to do anything.

  Heart wrenching screams that echo incessantly, eventually lost to the malicious laughter that surpasses them all.

  Tears cascade down my face as the last of my walls crumble. Every part of me shatters under the bombardment of their agonizing cries of pain. Each splintered piece intertwined with insurmountable grief and guilt.

  A strong hand tries to lift my chin but I snatch it away. Diving for the figure in front of me, I try to knock him off balance and distract him. If only I could make it to the door and out of the room. If only he wasn’t ready for me!

  Catching me mid tackle, as if I weigh nothing more than a bag of sugar, he snatches me up and cradles me to his chest as my legs collapse. Too weak to even stand up on my own, let alone escape this room, I thrash about in vain.

  Useless. Utterly useless. You can’t even fight off one man! No wonder yo
ur family is dead. It’s all your fault. You were too weak.

  Furious at my vulnerability, I smack my fists against his chest and kick out wherever I can. I’m like a mouse trying to take down a lion.

  Pathetic.

  “Let me go you bastard! Let me go!” I bellow, even as my face becomes even more saturated with tears. Fury leaks into my voice, but even I hear it as it wanes and cracks towards the end.

  Worthless. Utterly worthless.

  My fists continue to rein down holy hell as I try to manoeuvre out of his grip. Never faltering, he holds me effortlessly whilst walking back towards the bed. Maintaining his hold on me, he pins me tighter against his chest as I turn almost feral.

  My body soon realizes my efforts are futile and starts to rebel at the sudden exertion, no matter how loud I scream and curse at myself to not give in. Exhaustion washes over me as the anger starts to dissipate. Leaving only the bone deep agony of death behind.

  The death of everyone who ever meant something to me. My family. My home.

  “Please,” I whimper. “Please, let me go!” Words and pleas turn into sobs as Rick lies down with me in his arms. Securing me against him, he pulls the blanket over us.

  “I will never let you go, M. You have us, all of us. I know you don’t know us properly yet, but that will all change. You won’t be leaving here tonight, but we won’t leave your side. You will never be alone again, I promise.”

  His quietly spoken words cause the fight to leave me in a rush. Grabbing a hold of his white shirt, I press my head to his chest and let everything out.

  My cries and whimpers echo around the room as the loss continues to tear away at me. Piece by piece, it strips muscle from bone and tears organs apart. Red-hot lava races through my veins, burning up every inch of my insides in its wake.

  What seems like hours later, yet could only have been mere minutes, the bed dips behind me and another hand reaches up to stroke my hair back. Someone kisses the top of my head as Jax’s soft and gentle voice flows over me in a warm embrace.

  “We’ll make sure that you are never alone, Mila. You will always have us, we promise.”

  Reaching over my shoulder, he takes a hold of my hands and gently pries them away from Rick’s shirt. Together, they turn me over to face him. I don’t fight them. I can’t.

  A cool wave of relief spreads over every limb, weighing me down and numbing each inch of my skin as my energy begins to fade.

  The room suddenly quiets as my vision starts to dim. Jax encases me in his arms and pulls me into his body, placing a kiss on my forehead and tightening his grip. I relax into his embrace and allow him to take away the pain.

  The burden. Everything.

  Another set of hands wrap gently around my right arm as someone applies a bandage. The reason for it escapes me and quite honestly, I just don’t have it in me to care.

  Once they are finished, they lay my arm to rest against Jax’s chest as silence engulfs the room. With nothing in me left to give, I welcome the darkness that hovers in my vision as I stare blankly over Jax’s shoulder.

  Through the puffiness and blurred vision, I vaguely capture Aus sitting on a chair behind Jax, reaching over to run his fingers through my hair. Holding his gaze and concentrating on the rhythm of his strokes, my grip on reality starts to slip.

  Rick moves in closer behind me and starts to stroke my arm. The combined sensations lull me into a sense of peace and security, even though the heartache still remains.

  Maybe with these guys by my side I will be okay. Maybe I won’t be alone. It’ll hurt, but they’ll help me heal. I’ll get over this in time and when I do, I will find that son of a bitch and give him the beating he so rightly deserves.

  No matter the cost.

  10 Jaxson

  Watching Mila break down was heartbreaking. Losing all of your loved ones is hard enough, but to witness each of their deaths, must be utterly soul destroying.

  She’s such a brave and strong woman to be able to keep her head throughout and hold out long enough for help to arrive. How she even managed to function properly is beyond me.

  Even now, she continues to try and push past her pain to focus on one thing.

  Retribution.

  Frustrated that I can’t offer anything to ease her suffering, I sit there feeling utterly useless as Rick carries her frail body over to the bed.

  Laying down with her clutched to his chest, she slumps in his arms as sharp, gut wrenching sobs tear from her chest.

  Throwing a look in Aus’s direction, he understands my silent request and gives a slight nod before leaving the room.

  Once Rick settles them both under the covers, I lift the corner and climb in the opposite side. Fortunately, the hospital beds in the complex are more like small double beds, so sharing one with Mila and Rick isn’t too much of an issue.

  Rick changes his grip on her as she buries herself in his chest. Her high pitch keening, muffled only slightly by his shirt.

  I reach out to stroke her face, placing a tender kiss on her forehead and whispering quietly to her.

  With where her head is at right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t hear a word I say. Yet I continue, wanting to make sure that on the odd chance that she can hear me, that she knows we’ll never allow her to be alone and unprotected again.

  Lachlan’s already told us that she has no other known family. Rick is the closest connection she has and she only knows him as an acquaintance.

  Her parents of course, left everything to her.

  Lachlan wouldn’t explain much to us, but there’s a stipulation for her receiving all that she is entitled to. One that has not yet been met. So until that is fulfilled, it was agreed that she would come and stay with us.

  Reaching over, I unclasp Mila’s vice like grip and take her hands in mine. She doesn’t even put up a fight as Rick turns her to face me.

  I don’t hesitate in wrapping my arms securely around her as she lays her forehead on my chest, completely surrendering to her pain.

  My heart squeezes painfully at her vulnerability. She’s nothing like the strong, independent woman that we met at the party.

  Not that I blame her one bit. Everything she ever loved, ever cared for, was ruthlessly ripped away from her before she was even able to take a full breath. Destroyed mercilessly, right in front of her eyes.

  Aus comes back a minute later and begins to bandage Mila’s arm as Rick carefully holds it out to him. Tying the loose ends off, Rick places her arm to rest in the small space between her chest and mine.

  Aus’s shaky exhale is loud as he takes a seat on the chair behind me. Lifting her head with a dazed look, Mila searches for something over my shoulder. I know the second she recognizes Aus as her red and swollen eyes widen slightly, standing out starkly against the pale pallor of her skin.

  In a medically induced coma for nearly three weeks, she’s lost a significant amount of weight.

  Her gaunt face is beginning to look a little less pronounced now as the color slowly seeps back into her skin. Her usually dark chocolate, curly locks, remain hidden away under a layer of fresh bandages.

  The IV nutrition the Doc had her hooked up too was something special all right.

  It’s made a notable difference to her appearance within the space of just a couple of hours. The fact that she’s now awake just goes to show how much of a positive effect it’s having on her system.

  Although she’ll be looking at a lengthy recovery, she won’t be alone. She is a part of our family now. She’ll be looked after like our own flesh and blood, with us by her side, every step of the way.

  Fear and anguish dull her usually bright and beautiful amber eyes, leaving a flat yellow straw like color in its wake. My heart breaks all over again at the quiet whimper she releases as the fight drains from her, exhaustion claiming her for its own.

  So driven by the pain of her loss, she compelled her body to fight to the bitter end.

  Recognizing the urge and the despair that c
omes along with it, I can’t help when my grasp on her tightens.

  I know better than anyone, that only time can dull the agony of losing your family in such a tragic way, and even then, the pain never truly goes away.

  I startle when Aus’s hand lands on my shoulder. Breaking his stoic and emotionless façade, he fixes me with a look filled with understanding and sympathy. I smile, doing my best to hide my real feelings.

  I’m a fool if I ever thought I could trick him.

  I flinch as he reaches towards my face and swipes at my cheek. Lifting his finger, he inspects the wet tip with interest before smirking back at me.

  Pompous arrogance and victory shine in his azul eyes, forcing a quiet chuckle out of me. He’s always known exactly how to pull me out of a tough spot.

  Giving a clipped smile, the emotion literally falls off his face as he shuts himself down just as quickly as he opened up. Patting me on the back, he throws one last sympathetic glance towards Mila before getting up and walking out of the room.

  It’s hard not to see just how much this whole situation is tearing him apart as much as it is the rest of us. Even though we don’t know Mila that well, we each have difficult pasts, and are well acquainted with the darker side of life.

  We’ve all been in a similar position to her in one way or another, and one thing we all came to realize, is that dealing with the emotional repercussions of such situations is not something that gets easier with time.

  If anything, each blow hits harder and harder, until the pain is damn near unbearable.

  Just because we are men, doesn’t mean we enter situations with impenetrable armor. It’s quite the opposite actually.

  One thing that always grated on me is why society sees women as brave when they overcome emotional adversities in life. Yet in men, it is more often than not seen as a flaw or a sign of weakness.

  Stereotypically, men avoid sharing their emotions, as society would have us believe it is a sign of fragility and femininity. Yet, we are all human no matter our gender, so why should it matter?