He taps on her nose with his finger. “In a few minutes.”
“Can I draw, then? I want to draw something for Phoenix.” She smiles at me. “A little gift.”
My insides warm at this, finding her acceptance beautiful, because this child doesn’t know anything about me and doesn’t form judgments about my character.
A rare gift indeed when I knew nothing but scorn over the past four years.
Even with the truth uncovered now, I’ll always be this Phoenix who went through hell and back and still drove the car that killed Angelica King.
“You can.”
She squeals and rushes off to the living room after smacking a kiss on his cheek, and Zach explains, “She has a play area in the common room. I never have guests or host parties, so all this wasted space seemed stupid.”
“You give her freedom to roam around the house.”
“I don’t want her to feel enclosed within four walls. It might suffocate her.”
A flashback from the prison plays in my mind when they locked me up for twenty-four hours in a solitary cell with no light after some fights with one of the inmates who kept on poking me.
Usually, I took it all silently, not wanting to get in trouble just because someone showed off their so-called dominating skills and chose me as their target. It’s easier to kick someone who’s already lying on the floor, right?
However, her words still ring in my ears to this day, and after them, I snapped, wrapping my hands around her throat and choking her so long it’s a miracle she stayed alive.
No wonder your baby died. Who would want a bitch like you for a mother?
Zachary places his hand above mine and pulls me back to present, his gaze filled with worry. “Are you all right?”
Clearing my throat, I munch on the toast and reply, “Yes. Just a memory took me off guard when you mentioned four walls.”
Silence falls on the table after that, and my heartbeat speeds up, either from the earlier flashback or the closeness of Zachary who still continues to stare at me while I eat, but then he asks, “Will you ever share what happened with you there?”
Despite knowing better, a bitter chuckle slips past my lips. “Why? You didn’t get enough reports on that?”
His hold on me tightens, and then he swiftly removes it, his jaw clenching as he runs his fingers through his hair before exhaling loudly. “I deserve that. I fucking deserve that. But I never ordered you to be hurt after that one time.”
This information might as well have been a bomb dropped on me, as it has the same effect.
I freeze, the fork clanging loudly on the plate when it falls from my hand, and I blink at him.
What? How is this possible?
The first attack was one of the harshest and vicious ones on me, but the rest that followed weren’t sunshine and roses either. And the word on the street was that someone paid a hefty sum each time, so the abuse continued; they could have pretty much been set for life with the amount of money they were getting.
Unless the unsub…
However, I don’t have time to dwell or ask more questions to clarify the situation based on this information as Zach’s phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket, frowning as he answers. “Yes?” He listens to whatever is said to him, and then, “Yes, let them in.” At my questioning gaze, he announces, “The FBI is here.”
Zachary
The clock ticks loudly in the living room as we settle on the couch opposite two chairs occupied by Noah and Ella silently watching us, not missing any details.
And judging by Ella’s frown, she doesn’t understand how Phoenix is so calm in my presence after what transpired back in the office.
I bet she notices the sexual tension between us too; aren’t they criminal psychologists? Not sure how all the shrinks work, but apparently some have the ability to guess everything about you just by body language.
I don’t give two shits one way or the other. I’ve claimed Phoenix as mine and don’t give a damn who has a problem with it.
Phoenix shifts uncomfortably once again, her leg tapping the floor, and by how rigid her spine is, I understand she is a nervous wreck in anticipation of what they have to say.
Her face became all pale when I told her they were here, almost as if I announced that death itself had arrived to claim her soul and drag her to the underworld.
Fed up with the prolonged silence, I break it with my harsh, cutting voice. “So are we gonna sit around quietly or will you tell us why you’re here?”
Noah and Ella share a look, and finally the man speaks up. “How safe is this place for this discussion?”
“There are no cameras or bugs in here, if that’s what you’re asking.” I rub my chin with the back of my hand. “I got it checked a few days ago, thinking the fucker might want to spy. Don’t take those kind of chances with my child.” I could never be sure what this asshole gets off on, and if I ever found Emmaline’s videos or pictures at his place or him flaunting them around for blackmail… I’d lose my shit.
Noah nods. “Understandable. And how about your staff? Do you trust them all?”
“Inside the house, we have only the nanny who has been in my family for the last thirty-five years.” Along with feds, Patience arrived too, so I told her to go upstairs with Emmaline and not come down until I called for her.
The last thing my daughter needs is to hear or stumble on some grizzly details that would result in nightmares or fear filling her tiny form, not letting her live in her happy bubble.
As long as I’m near, nothing scares my little girl.
Or Phoenix for that matter, however, it’s not something I can voice, since the woman is convinced our affair and sexual chemistry are based on frustration and other bullshit her psychiatrist mind has decided to justify all this with in her head.
Which is true, except our connection started twenty-five years ago and just now burst into flames, so she might act like an ostrich hiding her head in the sand and not see what the fuck is going on, but it doesn’t mean nothing is happening.
I’ve had plenty of no-strings-attached sex, and what I share with Phoenix can never be called that.
I heard how women are so afraid of manwhores, claiming these kind of men who are used to getting sex wherever with whoever, would never settle down, and who avoid love like the plague, too afraid to commit to anyone.
What a fucking lie, at least in my experience.
The people who are afraid to commit are those who already loved once, and it destroyed them to a point where love becomes the greatest risk.
Love has the power to heal everything inside us, give new meaning to the world around us, while the person who understands you the most stays by your side.
However, losing love has the power to strip you from the person you once knew and, in place of that, create a very vicious creature ready to tear anyone and anything down.
What I did to Phoenix after Angelica’s death proves this statement.
Noah clears his throat, his brow raising at me as if guessing my mind was elsewhere, and at my nod, he finally starts to speak. “Last night, Rafe Baker was found dead in his hospital bed. Air was injected into his vein, causing an air embolus that went to the heart, and he died within a minute based on the report.”
A cry of distress slips from Phoenix. She covers her mouth with her palm and tears form in her eyes. “No,” she whispers and looks at me, shaking her head. “Sara’s brother.” Without thinking, I pull her to me, creating a cocoon of protection around her as she ducks under my arm, her body trembling all over. “He’s dead because of me.”