Phoenix.
Even thinking about the man’s unique name had me searching him out. I found him watching me intently and I suddenly realized I’d asked him to excuse me for a moment, but hadn’t heard his answer. Shit, how long had I been standing in front of the coffee maker, my finger on the start button?
“Sorry,” I mumbled as I pressed the button. “Be right back,” I added as I hurried from the kitchen. There was a private bathroom near the storage room where the non-perishable food items were kept. I avoided the mirror as I searched out the small bottle of mouthwash I kept beneath the sink. I’d gotten smart after the first time T had confronted me on my way to the soup kitchen and bought a couple of bottles of the strong antiseptic-style liquid in the hopes it would offer some protection against any diseases T sent my way, in addition to helping get rid of the disgusting flavor that no amount of juice, water or coffee could mask.
Once I’d gargled for several minutes and spit the mix of mouthwash and blood into the sink, I looked up to study myself in the mirror. All in all, the damage wasn’t as bad as it usually was. I guess I had Phoenix to thank for that. My thoughts drifted to the man waiting in the other room for me as I began dabbing at my cut lip with some wet paper towels.
For starters, the guy was huge. Not that that was a surprise since at 5’9, I couldn’t even be considered average. Phoenix had to be at least six inches taller than me and probably outweighed me by 75 pounds or more. Even Gun hadn’t been that big. I hadn’t missed the tattoos on the man’s dark skin where the collar of his shirt had shifted as he’d knocked T to the ground, nor had I been able to look away from his piercing eyes which were so dark, they looked almost black.
Phoenix’s hair was cropped short and he had a neatly trimmed beard that framed beautifully wide, full lips. I was inexplicably intrigued by those lips, which wasn’t the norm for me since I tended to shy away from guys like him…hell, any guys these days, since my only experiences with sex were something I’d rather forget, but was condemned to remember and apparently repeat if T got his way.
Which he would.
I sighed as I studied my reflection. Why was I even thinking about all this? Not only was the man in the other room likely not even gay, but the last thing I wanted was to get involved with someone.
Involved?
I laughed out loud.
Guys didn’t get involved with me. They fucked me. They used me. My body was my form of payment and nothing more. Hell, my body wouldn’t even react to my own hand anymore. In what universe would I have a normal reaction to a good-looking guy like Phoenix?
Yeah, I’d felt a little flutter of excitement when I’d first gotten a good look at him, similar to what I’d felt when I was a kid and I’d gotten assigned Kyle Verona, the most popular kid in the eighth grade, as my lab partner. Back then, I’d often found myself battling to keep from popping a boner whenever Kyle would brush up against me as he leaned in to study the contents of our beaker, but nowadays, unwanted erections weren’t something I had to worry about anymore. I’d thought that the mysterious flutter was gone too, but apparently not, because my stomach was currently doing little somersaults and I was eager to get back out to the kitchen at the same time that I wanted to hide out in the bathroom for the rest of the evening.
I shook my head and dismissed my errant thoughts that were clearly just a result of Phoenix riding in on his white steed to rescue me. I should have told him he was far too late.
Seven years too late to be exact.
I forced myself to finish cleaning up and made my way back to the kitchen. A shimmer of disappointment went through me when I saw the chair Phoenix had been sitting in was empty. But the unexpected sadness only lasted long enough for me to round the corner and nearly run right into him where he was standing in front of the coffee machine. He put his hands out to catch me bythe arms just before my body made impact. Electricity danced beneath my skin at the contact, despite the fabric of my shirt separating us from being skin on skin. I couldn’t stifle the gasp that escaped my lips as the sensation shot throughout my entire body.
Phoenix instantly dropped his hands and stepped back from me and I saw the same look he’d given me outside…the one that had set off warning bells in my head.
He hadn’t looked at me like he wanted to fuck me…I would have preferred that look compared to the one I’d seen then and was again seeing now.
It was the same look he’d given T after he’d thrown him to the ground.
Cold, deadly anger.
I automatically stepped back. “Sorry,” I murmured as I took in his tense frame. He shuttered the menacing look quickly and nodded at the coffee machine.
“You forgot to put water in it.”
“What?” I asked stupidly, not really hearing his words since I was still caught up in trying to figure out why he’d looked at me twice now like he was regretting not letting T finish what he’d started. Had I done something to piss him off? Maybe I’d embarrassed him with my comment about everyone needing a helping hand? I mean, yeah, the guy didn’t look homeless, but I knew looks were deceiving. And I certainly hadn’t meant to offend him, but wasn’t the hot meal the soup kitchen offered the reason he’d been in that alley?
Phoenix picked up the carafe full of water and poured it into the machine’s water reservoir. “You didn’t put any water in it.” He flipped the switch and I listened as the coffee machine began pulling the water into the tank to heat it.
“Um, sorry,” I murmured. I felt foolish for looking so scatterbrained to him. I had a lot of limitations when it came to my intelligence, but I was usually pretty good at following through on tasks, especially if they were part of a routine. But between T’s demand in the alley and Phoenix’s interruption, I was still struggling to processeverything. Especially since I knew T would be back. Hell, I would likely find him waiting for me tonight when I left for work.
“Um, can I make you that sandwich?” I asked as I moved to the refrigerator to grab the supplies I’d need. The soup shelter wasn’t blessed with a lot of donations, so the appliances were older and didn’t have the capacity to feed as many people as Father O would have liked, but I’d never seen him turn someone away. I’d add some extra money to the locked donation box that sat at the end of the serving line to cover the cost of the extra food for Phoenix.
I felt rather than saw Phoenix behind me, but he didn’t linger and by the time I had the meat, mayo and lettuce in my hands, he was back in the chair. I didn’t miss the fact that he hadn’t answered me, nor had he taken his eyes off me. The sensation of being watched made me uncomfortable, especially since my goal in life was to be invisible, but I forced myself to focus on fixing the food. “I’m sorry, all we have is leftover turkey,” I murmured as I worked.
“That’s fine.”
I worked quickly, but when I reached for the plate with the sandwich on it to carry it over to where Phoenix was sitting, I heard him say, “Would you mind cutting it?”
I stilled at that and shot him a glance. It was a somewhat odd request, but who was I to judge?
I returned the plate to the counter and then took a deep breath as I reached for one of the butcher knives in the small block near the sink, since it would have looked strange to bypass them and search out one of the blunt dinner knives that were kept along with all the other silverware in a basket at the beginning of the serving line.
