Little Phoenix (The Census Book 1)

by Willow Dean

  “We need to find a way to help you cope with these nightmares or else you could really hurt yourself. But first, we need to understand why you are experiencing them so we can help you through it. It’s no good if you end up falling down the stairs every night,” he teases, giving me a goofy smile and forcing a giggle out of me.

  The guys obviously don’t find his attempt at humor amusing. Most certainly not Aus who gives a disapproving grunt.

  Almost immediately, my mind strays back to my nightmares and I sober up. Forcing my mental shields up, I wrestle my emotions to the back of my mind as the pressure behind my eyes begins to build.

  “They’re the same every night,” I whisper, peering down at my hands. “It’s the crash, over and over again. I’ve come to terms with their deaths, but that’s not the problem. My brain just keeps going over what else I could have done.”

  Taking a second, I shake my head and clear my throat.

  “It’s like everything is being replayed in slow motion so that I can analyze every decision I made. How if I hadn’t been speaking to Mum, then maybe she wouldn’t have turned to speak to me and been shot in the head.

  “How if I made that prick on the phone talk to me sooner, then maybe I could have gotten some instructions that would have prevented us from being rammed off the road. Could I have gotten my Dad out of the wreckage if I had worked him free of the wreckage before I released the clasp on his seatbelt?”

  Speeding up with every word that passes through my mouth, my voice cracks as I examine every thought. Every image. Every decision.

  “How I should have checked on Gem whilst we were in the wreck. If I had forced myself up and fought those guys rather than staying under their boot, could I have gotten to Dad and Gem before the car blew?” I shake my head.

  “On and on and on. It constantly loops in my head at night. Like a puzzle with no solution,” grasping at my hair out of anger and frustration, despair creeps into my voice. My head pounding from the onslaught.

  “The dreams don’t scare me, as such. They’re just vexing. It’s like each night I am presented with an impossible equation and asked to solve it,” I grit out.

  Looking away from their harrowed faces, my mouth opens and immediately clamps shut again. Guilt weighs heavily on my chest, the feeling only worsening when I don’t tell them about the other dreams.

  The ones where I’m dragged down whited tiled corridors by unseen hands. Forced to lie there, thrashing in agony with fire trailing through my veins. Adding my wails to the cacophony of screams that echo the barren corridors.

  So caught up in my thoughts, Jax’s delicate response startles me.

  “It is an impossible equation. The situation is gone. Complete. Unreachable.” Resting a hand on my knee, he starts drawing little circles. “Nothing you do to try and change it will make any difference. You can’t change the outcome of something in the past. The past is the past for a reason. You did what you could at the time and you have to learn to accept that and let it go, so that you can focus on what you can do here and now.”

  He hesitates for a second, searching my face for some kind of reaction. All he gets is glazed eyes and a tense frown.

  “There are some meditation techniques that I think may help. I could teach you them, if you’d like?” He looks up at me with such understanding, that I can’t help but accept his offer.

  “Please,” I croak, permitting a small amount of vulnerability to show. Allowing Jax to see just how much I trust him.

  I just hope they can forgive me in the end for not telling them the whole truth, even if it’s just self-preservation. I’ve opened up a little and that’s a start.

  Jax blushes a pretty pink and looks at anywhere but me. Coughing to clear his throat, he practically squeaks out his next words. “You’re welcome.”

  As he walks back over to the sofa, he keeps his eyes averted. By the smirks on the guys faces, they all noticed him blushing, finding amusement in his bashfulness.

  A swell of joy bursts forth in my chest at watching the dynamics of our group. The way the guys interact and support one another is just so refreshing and comforting.

  Watching them interact, I realise that I’m now a part of that. A part of something big, something important. It feels like I am finally home.

  Somewhere, where I truly belong.

  Rick clearing his throat gets our attention. “We’ll continue to keep watch on you at night for now and keep the motion sensors in your room. If that’s acceptable with you?” I go to reply when he holds a hand up. “Before you say anything, I want to apologize for not asking you first, but your safety was our priority.

  “Considering you hadn’t said anything about your nightmares, we didn’t think that you would be willing to share any information about what was going on, and we wanted to wait for you to have the confidence to tell us yourself. We were prepared to wait, however long it took, but it became too dangerous for us not to intervene. I hope you understand.”

  I shrug. “It doesn’t really bother me.”

  “Good-”

  “However,” throwing Rick a pointed look, I rise to my feet and stand in front of him, arms crossed over my chest. He gives me a challenging look, almost as though he knows exactly what I’m about to say.

  “You guys need to stop tailing me in college. I know you’ve had someone on my ass ever since I set foot back there. I get that you were only doing it for my safety and that is the only reason I’ve left it until now to say anything. However, I really don’t need that protection anymore. Doc gave me the go ahead for our next assignment and you know as well as I do that I can handle myself perfectly fine.”

  Laughter floods the room.

  “You were right,” he admits, giving Aus an amused look. Aus’s lips turn up into a giant smirk as Rick turns his attention back to me. “That was another part of today’s meeting. We were going to tell you that it’s no longer necessary. Aus figured out pretty much straight away that you knew, but clearly, the rest of us had no idea. When did you first notice?”

  “Linc, on the first day of college, starting from the end of the first period on the southwest corridor of the science wing.”

  I can’t help but snort at their stunned expressions. Each one of them has their eyes wide open and jaws slack. All apart from Aus who’s smirk has now grown into a victorious grin.

  Know it all.

  “You need to up your games boys!” I shout jovially, alleviating some of the tension in the room and causing another round of snickers.

  Rick is the first to recover. “You just keep surprising us, M,” he says fondly as he walks over and squeezes the back of my neck. “You’ll need to get a tracker before we let you off your leash though. Until then, one of us will walk with you everywhere. Deal?”

  “Deal. When can I get this tracker thing and what does it entail?” The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end in warning, but I can’t pinpoint why.

  “One of them is a ring that you can twist to activate a distress call. The other is a small cylinder that’s placed under your skin at the base of your skull and gives off a little hum when it’s activated. It can also monitor your vitals and can only be activated remotely, allowing us to have control of it if we believe a team member to be compromised or in distress. It’s also quite a useful tool for real time coordination and recon.”

  Houston, we have a problem!

  “Sweet. Can you turn it on and off yourself?” I don’t like the idea that just about anyone can use it. A shudder rolls through me at the thought of Meat Man getting a hold of that information.

  Rick shakes his head. “The only way to deactivate it is if you have a jammer or if it’s removed. The enzymes released within the muscle it’s embedded in activate it. No enzymes. No tracker.”

  “Not going to lie, that sounds a bit creepy.” Although it may be a handy tool, the thought of literally anyone gaining access to it sets me on edge. You could be being stalked by someone and have absolutely no idea.r />
  “It may sound that way yes, but I promise you it won’t be used for nefarious means. Having the tracker gives us assurance that we can find you if you are in trouble. Only those on our team, the board and the surveillance crew have the access codes. Lachlan has vetted each of the members personally and the systems are clandestine. I promise you, it is unhackable and won’t be abused.”

  His words reassure me a little, yet a tiny voice still niggles it’s disagreement in the back of my mind. No system or process is infallible.

  The bigger issue arises when I want to do some covert digging. That thing is going to make it a major pain in the ass trying to avoid detection.

  Looks like a problem for future Mila to deal with.

  “When can I get it done?” It’s probably wiser to do it sooner rather than later if we are due to be deployed soon.

  “I can set it up with Doc for tomorrow morning if you want?”

  “That sounds good, but we have college.”

  “It’s fine. We can call in at base on the way, it will only take five minutes. It’ll just be a little tender for the rest of the day.”

  “Okay,” I say nonchalantly. With that clarified, my thoughts stray to the real reason why I called this meeting. My whole-body tenses up in anticipation.

  Sensing my unease, the team talks quietly for a minute to allow me to collect my thoughts. I try to gear myself up, but it’s no use. Thinking that you are ready and actually being ready, are two very different matters.

  “Soooo-” My voice squeaks as my throat constricts. Turning away from their burning gazes, I look to the ceiling and close my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly to give myself some extra time.

  Oh, come on you pussy. Just man the fuck up and get it over with!

  “Any chance you guys can take me over to my house before the party tonight? I kinda haven’t got many clothes left and I’d like to grab a few things,” I rush out, all in one breath.

  I fiddle with my hands to keep myself occupied and to try and stop myself from having a full on meltdown.

  When no one says anything, I glance up to find everyone looking at me with sympathetic eyes. All except for Aus who is currently glaring daggers at the floor.

  “Of course we can, M. Want to head out now?”

  I don’t speak for fear of my voice cracking. Instead, I just nod.

  It’s just like ripping off a band-aid, Mila. It’ll hurt at first, but the pain won’t last.

  Without another word, everyone gets up and heads out to the SUV. Despite being only ten minutes around the corner, the drive is long and not at all that pleasant.

  As we pull up to the house, my heart thuds in my chest and my breath comes in short gasps. All of those ugly emotions I had hidden away are suddenly being dragged unceremoniously out of their steel cage.

  Yeah, so…you know that band-aid I was talking about? Well, it just went and ripped all of my wounds wide-the-fuck open.

  Linc rests a gentle hand on my knee as we come to a stop. Placing my hand on top, I squeeze tightly. I totally did that more to reassure him than myself.

  I’m fine. Really. Completely cool. Ice-fudging-cool.

  Looking away from the house for a split second, I take a look at my surroundings. Everything seems so nondescript and normal. Like nothing ever happened.

  A young couple walks past holding hands, smiling at one another without a care in the world. Old man Fred is out for his daily walk with his ageing poodle Daisy, both of them enjoying the stroll in silent company as a small red-haired boy plays with a football on a lawn nearby.

  “You don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready yet, M,” Rick says from the front, jarring me out of my thoughts. He looks at me in the rear-view mirror, giving me one last out.

  Shaking my head, I take a deep breath. “No, it’s alright. I need to do this. Can you-” I sigh. “Will you guys wait in the SUV? I just- I would like a little time alone,” I ask quietly.

  “Five.”

  “Ten,” I counter.

  “Seven, no longer. Just call if you need us, we’ll be right here.” Giving a tense nod, I squeeze Linc’s hand one more time. Straightening my shoulders, I open the door and step out.

  Strolling up to the front door, I glance around the front of the house. Everything looks exactly how we left it. Not a blade of grass out of place. Albeit a little more overgrown than when we were here last.

  Sliding the key into the lock, I turn it slowly until I hear the tell-tale click. Steeling myself, I let out another breath before opening the door and stepping over the threshold.

  I don’t know what I expected when I returned. A whole host of scenarios were constantly running through my head whenever I thought about this moment. Yet, walking into the hall, it feels like nothing has changed.

  It’s just like I’m returning after a day out with Gem, expecting to walk in and shout out a hello and be greeted by my smiling parents. Instead, I’m greeted with the pictures on the wall and the chime of the cuckoo clock in the dining room.

  A bolt of fear runs through me as no alarm sounds. It settles just as quickly when I remember that the guys have been in here to get me some stuff. They must not have remembered to turn it back on.

  I run my hand across the textured diamond wallpaper of the hallway as nostalgia seeps in. Mum was adamant we keep it, even though it’s more than a little outdated and quite frankly, immensely ugly.

  She used to say she didn’t care about aesthetics, that it was the memories and the foundations that counted. Each diamond had been painted in a different color by my hand. It was her pride and joy.

  My fingers trace the outline of one of the orange diamonds. It was the first colour in the paint palette and has been my favorite color ever since.

  Looking up towards the ceiling, I smile as I remember the day Dad held me on his shoulders whilst I painted the highest ones.

  Splotches of paint decorate the ceiling where I accidently flicked the paint as Can’t touch this by MC hammer blared through the radio in the kitchen. Dad and I danced around painting whilst Mum made double chocolate cookies and pumpkin soup.

  It just so happens to be the day I got my nickname too.

  Halloween was fast approaching, so I was scooping out pumpkins with Mum when Dad came home from work. Putting the pumpkin on my head, I used it as a mask and hid behind the door in wait.

  My memory is just as vivid as it was watching the expressions on his face unfold in real time. Confusion was followed by shock and happiness as he faked a heart attack and dropped to the floor, sprawling out dramatically.

  Scooping me up when I got too close, he tickled me silly and ever since that day, I was known as his Little Pumpkin.

  Wiping away a stray tear, I grab a few of the photos off the wall and cradle them to my chest as I make my way to my room. Setting them down gently on the bed, I take a small travel case out of the closet and pack only the most essential and important things.

  I can collect the rest when I come back. For now though, this will have to do.

  It’ll be nice to be able to wear my own clothes for a change. Don’t get me wrong, the guys were amazing and brought me a small selection of my own clothes when I was first let out. However, I soon needed new clothes.

  So, newly bought it was. Oh, and the odd baggy sweatshirt from the guys. They make me feel safe. Sue me.

  Still struggling with processing, I couldn’t bring myself to come back here, even for comfy clothes. The guys’ clothes made up for that lost comfort at least.

  Sure, I bought new clothes and they were all mine, but there were no emotions or comfort tied to them. Not like the baggy sweatshirt you wore, cuddled up under the blankets between your parents while watching a film. Or the sweats you donned after you got soaked at the ice rink with your best friend.

  Excitement thrums through me at the prospect of being able to take home all of my favorites. Nothing can compare to my favorite oversized hoodies, tees, sweats and combat boots.

>   Providing me with a true sense of home, I don’t think I could ever bring myself to replace them. Everything else I could take or leave, but I decide to sort that out at another time. I’ll have to go through all of my parent’s stuff as well at some point.

  Easy as pie, right? Not.

  I include a few nice dresses that I could wear to the party later, including that dreaded white dress. Sure, it brought back bad memories, but it also brought back the beautifully happy memories of my last birthday.

  My very last birthday celebration with my family.

  With a heavy heart, I close up the case and head to my parent’s room to grab a few things I definitely don’t want to leave behind.

  Taking a slow look around their room, I let the memories of Christmas cuddle time roll over me.

  Dragging my massive sack of presents in at six in the morning, squealing about Santa and jumping on their bed, it was a tradition that we continued even into my teens.

  Mum would pull me into bed and smother me in cuddles, whilst Dad got our tasty morning snacks. They never changed. Our delicious treats consisted of homemade double chocolate cookies, hot chocolates with marshmallows and a gingerbread man on the side.

  They would sip on their hot chocolate whilst they watched me open all my presents. Using my time wisely, I would play with each of my toys to let my hot chocolate cool enough for me to dunk my cookies in, before attempting to eat them in one bite.

  A wistful smile creeps across my face as I trail my hand across the comforter that’s still perfectly made from the day we left. Mum’s sweet chamomile and lavender smell lingering on the sheets.

  Moving over to her vanity, I gather up some of the jewellery that was most important to her. Many of them being little trinkets that were passed down generations. Never to be worn again.

  I also collected Dad’s favorite watch and flip knife that belonged to his father before him, along with his father’s medal box.

  Although I never met my grandparents -adopted grandparents, should I say- both of them having died before I was born, I was never short of stories from their time. Dad was an amazing storyteller and would tell me endless tales of my grandpa who fought bravely in the war.