Ah, my little vicious creature.
Enjoys my misery, doesn’t she? “Being vindictive doesn’t suit you, darling.”
“I have to take my enjoyment where I can. So ha ha.” She motions with her head to inside her room. “Come on in. I found the first aid kit under my sink.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m not sure what made her extend an olive branch tonight, considering she must still be pissed about the whole proposal thing, but I’m not going to question it.
The more time I can spend in her company, the better. We can’t act as a madly-in-love couple when she avoids my every touch and rushes away when I come closer.
Once I enter, I see the curtain billowing, since the balcony door is wide open, and the light from outside is brightening the room.
Since Phoenix is nowhere in sight, I move farther into the room, only to blink in surprise when I spot her in the right corner where two wicker couches and a round table sit with the first aid kit and two steaming cups on it. Phoenix sits on one of the couches, her feet dangling above the floor as she swings them back and forth.
My boots thump loudly on the marble floor as I walk toward her, rolling my shoulders back hoping to ease some tension from them. I notice a lot of fucking stars up in the sky for this time of the year.
Maybe the universe has decided to create a romantic night for me… and I didn’t get the memo about it?
“Should I be concerned?” I drop onto the opposite couch, groaning in pleasure when it fits my size just perfectly. I slide forward a little so my neck can rest on the upper cushion.
Heaven.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You invited me inside your room, prepared all this stuff, and want to take care of my hand. Is this a trap I’m not aware of?” I take out a cigarette and lighter from inside my jacket I slipped back on. I’m about to light it up, but then I remember my manners, raising my gaze to her as she cocks her head to the side, studying me. “Do you mind?”
“Yes.”
Well then, I throw it next to me, abandoning the idea of forgetting myself in the momentary oblivion.
Smoking is one of the habits I got addicted to in the last four years, finding solace in the nicotine hitting my tongue and giving me a temporary reprieve from the unbearable agony my life has represented.
Or maybe for a moment in time, I could have escaped the man I’d become as the result of my grief.
Generally, I never ask anyone’s opinion about it. Emmaline is my only exception, because I never smoke around her.
However, as I find out more and more with each passing day, Phoenix is different, and on some level, it’s such a fucking inconvenience.
Her needs, likes, and dislikes become as important to me as my own, and that’s a connection neither of us is ready for.
What is it about this woman who has me acting like a sick fool in love, ready for everything as long as the object of his adoration looks his way?
Phoenix wraps her hands around the mug, lifting it up to her mouth and taking a tentative sip. Her lips turn puffy from the hot contact, and my dick stirs against my zipper.
Fuck, everything about her fucking turns me on to the point of insanity. “Green tea with mint,” she announces and extends it to me. “See? I tried it. It’s not poisoned, although the idea did cross my mind.”
I take it from her, our fingers brushing against each other for a second, and electricity zips between us, but we both ignore it. So I ask, “What stopped you?”
She shrugs, picking up the second mug. “Didn’t feel like going back to prison.” Tension fills the air, and I tense inwardly expecting her to lash out again. I could never stop her, because she deserves it, even if I’m not the one who put her in prison in the first place.
Although sometimes she does act like it was me who pulled the evidence of her crime out of my ass and presented it in such a way that she got locked up.
Sometimes, she forgets I’m also a victim in this story and not the executioner everyone tries to paint me as.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to bring it up. We have a truce, right?” she says and tugs her feet under her, resting her elbow on the arm of the couch. “I figured we need to talk about the validity of this marriage. Screwing this up is not an option. I want to find the unsub and put a stop to this.”
What she really means is that she’ll finally be able to escape, not having to witness my face or even my daughter’s, because we both remind her of the things she lost.
“I thought you wanted to treat my hand.” I wiggle it in the air.
She replies sweetly, although amusement flashes in her eyes, “I’m enjoying my tea right now. Besides, you waited for so long; I’m sure you can hold on a bit longer, right?”
I take a larger sip from the tea, and kick my legs up on the table, giving much-needed relief to my knees that probably will be stiff for the rest of the night. “I don’t give a fuck what people think. The only person we have to convince is that fucker.”
Phoenix puts her mug on her knee, her fingers drumming on it, and the sound annoys me, but I say nothing, enjoying this fresh weather that has the ability to clear any fucked-up shit playing in my mind.
Like cutting the fucker’s limbs bit by bit, showing him that I’m not kind or gentle, torturing him for years to come as no amount of pain of his will be satisfying enough.
“He or she is very smart, so this plan is destined to fail if you don’t have some great love story ready to deliver to the public.” She cuts through my musing and focuses her unreadable brown eyes on me. “So, Mr. Know-it-all-and-order-it-all, what kind of love story do you have in mind?”
“Despite my hate for you, I monitored, via my contacts, if similar crimes had occurred in the country. Your words in court where you swore you hadn’t had anything to drink wouldn’t let me go. That and how Sebastian believed you at first. A husband always knows if his wife has a drinking problem, and you didn’t have those issues. So why would you risk it all of a sudden?” She freezes, not even blinking at this information, and bitter laughter slips past my lips. “That’s when I stopped drinking and actually started to think rationally. I didn’t have any other choice. Emmaline required my attention. Being an absent dad wasn’t on my agenda.” I take a sip of the tea before continuing. “About two years later, I saw enough of a pattern to doubt my conviction that you’d lied.” My mouth curves in a self-loathing smile. “Funny thing about our mind though. It always protects us. I’d probably have gone insane at the thought of you paying for the sins of someone else. So instead of seeing it as you not being guilty and trying to dig in that direction, I figured there must have been some issues with the brakes on those cars. And you must have still drank and, in such, still be guilty of the crime.” Finishing my tea with a large gulp, not caring how it burns my throat, I move the mug from hand to hand. “Then Lydia sent me the files, and the rest is history.”
Silence falls after my words with just the owls hooting in the distance accompanied by the wind shaking the trees, the leaves rustling against each other, and I hear Phoenix’s heavy sigh before she places her mug back on the table and folds her hands. “All this doesn’t answer my question though.”
“So impatient,” I say, throwing my empty one on the couch. “Hypothetically speaking, I could have discovered all these inconsistencies, worked toward uncovering the truth, and arrived at the conclusion that you are innocent. And then I visited you in prison to talk about it.”