“Lee, I thought...”
I exhale shakily, heart still hammering. I’ve never been more aware of how much power Phoenix has over me, how much I need him—even when he’s not touching me, not saying a word. And as I take a step forward to face Silas, I know that everything has changed.
I take a shaky breath, trying to steady my hands as Silas steps closer, eyes hard, jaw tight. “Lee, please,” he says, voice low but urgent. “You need to see reason. Phoenix isn’t—he’s not someone you should be wrapping yourself up in. You’re too… too young to get pulled into someone like him.”
His words hit me like ice. I feel my chest tighten, heartbeat spiking. “Too young? Or too stupid to admit he’s dangerous?” I snap back, heat curling in my stomach.
Silas flinches but keeps going. “He’s fucking reckless—he doesn’t care about consequences, Lee. And you’re—” His voice drops to a whisper, but the weight behind it makes my skin crawl, “…you’re too trusting, too soft. You’re letting him?—”
I cut him off, feeling fire surge through me. “I’m dangerous! Didn’t you see my game last week? I can defend myself! I don’t need your approval or your warnings. I can handle Phoenix.”
Silas stiffens, his lips thinning, and his eyes narrow dangerously. “Lee?—”
“You are not my dad!” I shout, the words tearing out of me before I can stop them. My chest feels raw, my voice louder than I intended. “I love Phoenix, and I’m going to be with him. No matter what you think.”
For a long moment, silence hangs heavy between us. Silas stares at me, chest heaving, like he’s trying to process the force behind my words. His face hardens, then crumples just slightly, like he knows he’s lost some control.
I can feel the tension lingering in the room, electric and raw. Phoenix’s presence lingers in my mind—how he stood between me and Silas just moments ago, controlled, lethal, and yetlistening to me. I can feel that calm storm echoing through me now, making me bolder than I’ve ever been.
Silas doesn’t speak for a long moment. I don’t back down, don’t flinch, because this is the first time I’ve said it out loud: I’m choosing Phoenix. I want him. I need him. And I’ll fight to defend that, no matter what anyone says.
Finally, Silas exhales sharply, turning away slightly, like he’s giving me a chance to breathe. I tear out of his apartment and down the stairs too antsy to take the elevator. Phoenix already has the car pulled up. I go around to the driver’s side and open the door.
He stares off into the distance, holding the wheel like a lifeline.
“Hey, why don’t you let me drive us home?” I say cautiously
A tear drips down his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“What? Babe, no, I’m sorry for bringing you into that.”
Phoenix doesn’t look me in the eye as he pulls himself from the driver’s seat. I kiss his cheek quickly taking his place.
And as I drive us home, I can feel Phoenix’s power echoing inside me. Like for once I finally know what it’s like to be brave.
15
PHOENIX
The door shuts behind us with a heavy thud, like the house itself is bracing for the storm inside me.
I can’t breathe right. The air feels thick, my lungs shallow, chest locked up with rage I can’t get rid of. My body hums with it, buzzing under my skin like static electricity. I should feel relief being home—my space, my walls, no Silas staring at me like I’m poison—but I don’t.
I feel like a fucking grenade someone forgot to throw.
Leander slips off his shoes, quiet, careful, like he’s testing the ground for landmines. He doesn’t speak at first, but I can feel his eyes on me, following every sharp twitch of my shoulders, every uneven breath.
I toss my keys on the counter too hard, and they clatter and skid until they smack against the backsplash. The sound ricochets through the quiet like a gunshot.
“Phoenix,” Leander says softly.
His voice makes something twist in me—something that isn’t anger, but close to it, rawer. I can’t look at him yet. Not like this. Not when I still feel the echo of his brother’s words rattling in my skull.
I pace instead, dragging my hand through my hair until it sticks up in messy spikes. Back and forth across the kitchen tiles, like motion alone can burn off the fury still boiling in my veins.
“You don’t have to—” Leander starts.
“Don’t.” The word comes out sharp, too sharp. My tone cuts, harsher than I mean it, and he flinches just slightly. Guilt slams into me, hard enough I stop mid-step, my eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck. Sorry.”
