“It says that you know me, really know me. I’m not some psychotic monster who throws women in dumpsters and calls it a night. You know that.”
“I know…”
“No, you want to paint me as the villain because it’s easier that way. Because it fits this little story you’ve built in your head, where I’m dangerous and you’re smart enough to stay away.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Don’t. I’m serious, Shannen—don’t do that. Don’t roll your eyes and laugh your way out of this.”
“I don’t want to give myself to you, and you know what? Fuck it. Yes—yes, I’m sexually attracted to you, Phoenix. Obviously. I’m not even going to pretend, but it ends there.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. You can touch me, you can kiss me—hell, you can even fu?—”
“I won’t fuck you until the day you look at me and call me yours. I’m not giving you that if I don’t get your name attached to it.”
“Fine,” she breathes out, almost laughing. “But let me tell you—you’re missing out because sex… sex is?—”
“I suggest you don’t finish that fucking sentence,” I hiss, my teeth gritted, every word shaking with restraint I no longer have. “Not when you’re thinking about men who aren’t me.”
“My experience is only with men who aren’t you, so what exactly do you expect from me here?”
“Fuck!” I roar, the word tearing out of me.
My lungs burn, and my pulse is a hammer in my skull as everyface of every man I’ve ever watched touch her flashes behind my eyes like a reel I can’t shut off.
“I can’t hear that from you anymore. I can’t fucking think—” I jab my fingers against my temple like I could dig the memories out if I press hard enough.
I push even harder until the pain gives me something else to focus on besides the image of her with someone else.
“You don’t get it. You’ll never get it. I know I did it to myself. I know, but that doesn’t make it easier.” I drag my hands over my face, then turn away from her, because if I look at her right now, I’ll break. “It went beyond jealousy. I wanted to rip those fuckers from you. I wanted to drag you somewhere no one else could ever fucking touch you.”
“Then why the hell didn’t you?” she fires back. “You could’ve, Phoenix. You could’ve shown yourself. Why didn’t you?”
“The letters,” I choke out, spinning back to face her. “The fucking letters. You never stopped hurting, and I never stopped punishing myself for that. I was bad to you. God, I was so fucking bad to you, but I swear to you, baby, just let me back in. Let me be good for you… to you. I can be. I will be.” I collapse to my knees at her feet, pressing my forehead into her stomach, rubbing it back and forth over her skirt. My arms wrap around her waist, trembling as I hold her to me. “What can I do? Tell me, Shannen. I’ll do anything. Just don’t send me away.”
Chapter 12
Shannen
Phoenix is practically beggingfor praise, validation, and reassurance, and suddenly, it all makes so much sense. Needing to be loved, needing someone to look at him like he’s everything—that’s what he’s always been chasing.
That’s how I lost him the first time.
Useless.
Unworthy.
Freak.
Mistake.
Unlovable.
Those were some of the words his father forced down his throat when he was just a boy, each one poisoning his mind and leaving him with a space where self-worth and love should’ve lived.
I wasn’t mature enough to see it at the time because I was too consumed by my own pain to recognize his, but Isee it now. Phoenix wants someone to look at him and tell him he’s worth something, not because he’s perfect but simply because he’s him. He craves that unwavering, unconditional love as if every cruel word from his past could be erased if someone just told him he was enough.Back then, all the care and respect I had for him didn’t even scratch the surface of the damage his father had done.
