Phoenix’s cell started ringing, and he drew it out of his pocket and glanced down. “It’s Hudson.”
“You'd better answer it, we’ve been ages.” I ran my eyes along his perfect profile, feeling the need to pull him into my arms and make him feel better. It was a rare thing, seeing Phoenix looking vulnerable.
“OK, be there in five. We’re outside.” He then ended the call and twisted the keys from the ignition.
“Dinner’s ready. They’re waiting for us.”
As Phoenix pushed his door open, I grabbed his arm. “Will you look for him? You’re father? Maybe you shouldn’t.”
Nix glanced over his shoulder, “I don’t know. Let’s get inside. I can’t be dealing with this shit right now.”
My hand fell away as he jumped down from the car. Phoenix didn’t rush around to open my door that time. I could feel the picture I had stolen, heavy in my purse, like a hot rock.
He appeared calm as we walked up to the house, but Phoenix’s calm had always been more concerning than his anger. It was the same with Hudson.
When we got onto the front porch, I put my hand on the doorknob, and Nix covered my fingers with his own. The broken skin on his knuckles was still red and sore, angry-looking.
I chewed the corner of my mouth in silence. Phoenix’s touch was gentle, and I twisted my face sideways. I was just about to speak when he beat me to it.
“Thanks,” he said. It was so quiet that I hardly heard it.
“For what?” I whispered.
He shrugged, “Well, first for letting me in and taking me to see your place. But also, for coming with me today and listening to my shit, especially when you have enough of your own to deal with. And for not giving me the third degree.”
Phoenix’s thumb ran along the back of my hand, his warm body almost crowding me against the door.
I took a deep breath. “That’s fine. I imagine you need time to get your head around it,” I replied in an understanding voice.
“Yeah, something like that.”
As my eyes scanned his face, I could see the pain written across every crease.
“Let me know what you need, Nix. You know I’m here for you, right?” I explained in a tight voice.
He took a deep breath, his thumb continuing to skim across my skin. “I just need a bit of time to process.”
“I get it. Take all the time you need.”
He then lowered his hand, and I dropped the handle, turning to face him fully.
Seeing him look so tortured made me want to drive back to his mother’s house and claw the witch's eyes out.
“Phoenix?” I questioned softly when he didn’t say anything else.
“I think I’ll go for a walk. Try to clear my head. Will you tell Ma that I’ll eat later? Say, I have a headache or something?”
Phoenix had always preferred to lick his wounds solitarily. That was always the way at the Jacksons’ house. He’d only ever joined me on the roof of the house when I was in pain. I remembered how we used to look at the stars together.
“Does Ma know where we were today?”
“No. I know she would have talked me out of going, so I didn’t say anything,” Nix replied truthfully.
“OK.”
Just before I could turn away and open the door, Nix raised his arm and ran his bruised knuckles down my cheek. I leaned my head against his touch, savoring the smell of his skin, and then he surprised me by saying, “I know things are complicated between us right now, but could I ask you a favor?”
I stood rooted to the spot. “Of course,” I smiled with a tilt of my head, searching his features.
