“No,” Phoenix says simply. “He’s not just your family. He’s my—” Phoenix stutters for once. “Teammate. That makes him my responsibility.”
Silas tilts his head, studying him with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. He’s trying to see inside Phoenix, to drag out whatever truth lies under his calm surface. And I know what he’ll find—something hungry, something sharp. Something I don’t want him to see, not here.
I push up on my elbows, the hospital bed squeaking. “Silas, please. He’s a friend, not the enemy.”
My brother doesn’t look at me. His stare is locked on Phoenix. “Maybe not. But you don’t get to dictate my trust, Leander.”
Phoenix finally moves, shifting just enough to angle his body toward me. He crouches slightly, meeting my eyes with a steadiness that makes my breath stutter.
“You’ll call me once you’re home, yeah?” His voice is lower now, just for me. Not a suggestion. A demand softened into something intimate.
I nod, unable to stop myself. My throat is too tight to speak.
Silas bristles, shoulders rigid. “He won’t be calling you. He’ll be resting.”
Phoenix stands tall again, a faint smirk ghosting his mouth, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks at Silas one last time, unwavering. “We’ll see.”
Then he squeezes my shoulder—firm, grounding—and finally turns to leave. The air seems to shift with him, tension easing only when the door shuts behind him.
The silence left in his wake is deafening.
Silas exhales sharply, dragging a chair closer to my bed. He sits, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight. His eyes lock on me, storm-dark. “What the hell was that?”
I look down at my hands, twisting the blanket. “That was… my captain.”
He huffs, sharp and bitter. “That was a man who thinks he owns you.”
I flinch. His words strike too close to the truth. Phoenix’s touch still lingers on my shoulder, hot like a brand.
Silas studies me for a long, heavy beat, suspicion etched into every line of his face. “You don’t see it now, but I do. Men like him? Dangerous. They wrap themselves around you until you can’t tell where you end and they begin. And when they’re done—” His voice cuts off, jaw locking.
I bite the inside of my cheek, heart racing. I want to tell him he’s wrong. That Phoenix is different.
But the words won’t come. Because deep down, I’m not sure he is.
I just know I don’t want him to let go.
The drive home is wrapped in silence thick enough to choke on. The city blurs past outside the window, streaks of neon and headlights smearing against the glass. My body aches all over—the brace on my knee heavy, my shoulder stiff from the fall—but it’s nothing compared to the tightness lodged in my chest.
Silas drives like the steering wheel wronged him, hands clamped so tight I half expect the leather to tear. His profile is carved in stone, every line of his face locked.
I know that look. It’s the one that means he’s been biting his tongue too long. It comes sooner than I’d like.
“Is he the guy?” Silas asks, his voice sharp, too loud in the quiet car.
My stomach flips. “What?”
“The captain,” he clarifies, eyes cutting toward me before snapping back to the road. “Phoenix. He’s the one you’ve been thinking about dating, isn’t he?”
The air in the car shifts, suddenly too hot, too heavy. I press my palms flat on my thighs, grounding myself. “I don’t?—”
“Don’t lie to me.” Silas’s tone sharpens, the words like steel drawn across stone. “I saw the way you looked at him. The way he looked at you. You don’t look atteammateslike that.”
My throat goes dry. He’s not wrong, but the truth feels too dangerous to touch. I stare at the faint glow of the dash, the ticking speedometer. “…Maybe.”
Silas exhales through his nose, a sharp sound that could cut glass. “Jesus, Leander. He’s just like Dad.”
The words lance straight through me. My chest seizes, my whole body rigid. “Don’t.”
