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I hate Phoenix. Hate how his reckless behavior nearly got him killed tonight. Hate how that makes me feel. Hate that his flush skin, his dark eyes, large and innocent, those wild curls, still manage to break into my mind. Hate that I can’t wait to have him cornered against some door again, throbbing and spluttering, his cock hard like it was back in his room.
“So what are you gonna do about it?” Ro asks, breaking through my dirty thoughts.
I sigh. “I don’t know, couz.” The first drops of rain tumble down from the sky, and I brush a hand through my quiff. This neighborhood is a sad one, but in the rain? No, I don’t need to see that. It doesn’t seem to bother the people on the streets, though. They don’t change spots, simply pull up their hoodies as if that’s going to keep them dry. Probably have nowhere to go, poor fuckers.
“I just—we need to take these freaks out before they become a real danger.” But right now, the real danger's Phoenix, combined with my thoughts. His soft moan when I ravage his mouth, licking and sucking every inch of wet heat. I shudder.
“Yeah.” Ro’s eyes are on my face. "So have we taken control of the situation now?" He’s waiting, patiently as always, in silence, for me to make up my fucking mind. Despite the rain that’s now freely pattering around us.
Unsure of what to say, I wave my hand noncommittally. “Right, I’m gonna—” Our eyes collide and the words freeze on my lips. It’s that knowing smile he sends me—always so gentle, and proving that he understands more than he lets on. Right now, he might even understand more than I do.
“Kai—”
“Don’t,” I warn him.
“Whatever’s going on, you know that you can talk to me.”
“It’s just—” Balancing on the balls of my feet, I’m suddenly not sure where to put my hands. I end up squeezing them into fists in the pockets of my leather jacket. “It’s wrong.” I don’t know why I’m even saying this, but here I am. “He—I—” I should bring him in. To Connor. It’s the right thing to say, the right thing todo, but the words stay stuck in my throat. When I look at Ro I’m not sure what to expect. Him telling me I’m stupid? That I’m a fucking fool? Instead I stoop to catch the keys he tosses in my direction. The corners of his lips twitch.
“Take the SUV. You don’t want his entire neighborhood knowing that you’re there.”
“I don’t even like him!” I sneer. Ro tries to swallow a snicker but fails. “You don’t know who he is!” I blast. He’s a fucking traitor. Who nearly got us killed.
“And yet you’re going to drive to his place, aren’t you?” He pulls the long coat tighter over his suit, then nudges his chin toward where D.’s now waiting for him. “Let’s clean up this mess step by step, preferably in the right order, right? Call me if you need back-up.”
“I’ll be back before you know it,” I shout after him, but he flips me off with a chortle. “And if you tell anyone, you’ll be in trouble, dude.” But he’s crossed the street and got into the car, and my words get lost in the rain. Fuck, it’s me who’s in trouble. That doesn’t stop me from making my way toward the grocery store for a few treats. It’s not a lot, and I don’t really know why I’m doing it, but it makes me feel a little better. Plus, a guy’s gotta eat.
Once I plant my ass inside the four wheel, I exhale a big breath of air, then take my phone out of my pocket. Outside, the rain picks up, but here, in the warm car, Johnny Cash sings about a ring of fire. I’m feeling a little giddy about going back to Phoenix’s place, although it’s definitely mixed with something else. It’s anger, and annoyance. I’ve got a ton of missed calls from Vic, who probably noticed that I’d left the party a while ago.
What the hell was that about earlier? Connor wants to have his revenge on Phoenix, and in every normal situation that would be the most natural thing to do in our world. Hell, I’d probably already have ruined the guy’s kneecaps. The guys are waiting for me to bring Phoenix in. But instead, I keep on letting him escape. And now I fear that if I wait too long, or even stop him from getting that, he’ll hate me for it. Will it affect the relationship I have with my cousin?
My fingers trace the lines of the tattoo on my wrist, the family symbol of the Void. I live for my blood. Having Austin far away is already going to be a nightmare, but having him loathe me? I honestly don’t know if I could live with that. And yet, the thought of heading south, of seeing Phoenix, fills my stomach with excitement.
It’s a short ride, the grim environment not getting any better by the time I pull up in front of his apartment block.
“What a shit show,” I grumble at the outside view. Nasty, nasty area. The light in the communal downstairs corridor is permanently blinking on and off, since there’s so much activity. A group of guys is hanging out against the letterboxes, smoking and laughing, and oblivious to my watchful eye. I’ve got to be more careful since we’re officially on All Saint’s radar after tonight, so it’s probably fair to say that we’re both planning on making the next move. Question is: who gets to go first?
Time passes slowly as I gaze outside. The sketchy buzz of hobos and hookers doesn’t slow down, and I seriously wonder what the fuck I’m doing here apart from thinking of things I shouldn’t be thinking of. Like my promise to make him my personal ragdoll.Iget to chase him down.Iget to punish him.
Fuck yeah. My cock stirs in my jeans, very much liking the prospect.
“What the hell’s up with you, hey?” I eye my crotch. “Okay, five minutes.” I won’t go inside, just check by his window to see if he got home safe. And if he sees me and opens his window?
Then I might as well steal a kiss.
Fuck me.
The rocky, metal steps really aren’t the safest, but I keep on climbing. Growing impatience makes me take them two at a time, until a strange, light flutter teases the pit of my stomach. I’ve barely arrived at the window of Phoenix’s small bedroom when the heavens open. Thick, wet drops start falling down, increasing the shifty vibe around me. I steal a quick glance through the dark window, then focus on the thin piece of cardboard that’s slid between the window and the wooden sill, enough for me to create more friction. It was easy the first time. Whatever happened with my decision of not going in, is quite literally tossed outside the window. Because less than ten seconds later, I’m standing inside his room. It still has that vague, vanilla scent, but the air is stale and cold. Phoenix’s not here.
“Where are you?” I whisper as my eyes take in every detail of his private space.
The first time I got in here was fucking thrilling. But fury and wrath had taken up every single inch of space in my mind. God, I'd been so angry at the failed attack, but one glance at Phoenix's quivering frame had me trembling. This time though, I want to take in his space and savor it somehow.
His single bed is made up neatly, a book half tucked under the pillow. Sliding it back, I read: “Monet’s first years.”
“So you’re into art, huh?” Placing it carefully back, I let the flat of my hand trace the material of his blanket. It's plain, dark-blue, and lonely. Cheap, just like the rest of his stuff. Next to his bed is a wardrobe that reveals few clothes and more drawing material. My hands eagerly touch everything, using each object as a unique discovery of Phoenix, needing more with every brush of my fingertips. Because I have questions. His desk is surprisingly empty, with nothing apart from a pencil case and some blank sheets of paper. I’m just about to check what mess he’s left in his bin, when I’m surprised by a loud bang. It’s followed by a shout that definitely comes from further inside the apartment.
His mother.
