“Er…” Mo dropped the towel and looked away. “Um, I’ll just, you can finish up and then I’ll…” She twisted her hands. “Help you out of the shower and to the bed—to sleep!” I winced as she shouted the last part in my right ear. “Sleep, because you need rest.”
“Thanks, Mo.” I nodded. “Pretty sure I know what sleep is for.”
Her cheeks stained even redder before she walked out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. The woman had seen me naked countless times before. Hell, technically we were married, and she was still blushing around me like she’d never seen a man before.
I wanted to remedy that.
Correction, I wanted to be the only guy to remedy that.
With a sigh, I stood on wobbly feet and slowly made my way out of the shower, I was at least able to make it to the counter before I had to stop. Mo quickly grabbed my arm and without saying another word helped me to my bed.
What happened next was probably my fault.
I was suffering blood loss.
So really, she shouldn’t have expected anything less of me.
When I fell back on the bed, I took her with me, and ripped her towel off in the process.
“Two hours,” I ordered softly in her ear.
“Two?” She squeaked.
“Yeah.” My arms tightened around her body. “Please?”
With a defeated sigh she whispered, “Okay.”
Part Two: From the Ashes
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
It’s best to have failure happen early in life. It wakes up the Phoenix bird in you so you rise above the ashes. –Anne Baxter
Phoenix
THE ANSWER IS NEVER as simple as the question. And when Luca asked me the question, I had no idea what my answer would be. In a million different scenarios I never imagined I’d be back where it all started. When you’re a kid you’re always told that your choices will haunt you, that they become like blocks you build off of.
My freaking blocks were destroyed.
And I was smothered beneath the rubble, just waiting for death to take me, because honestly? I should be dead.
I wanted to be dead because maybe then this sick feeling in my chest would go away, maybe if I was dead I wouldn’t have the nightmares.
Maybe if I was dead, I wouldn’t want what I literally had no business wanting.
Life.
“What the hell did you do?” I screamed jerking against the IV and hospital equipment. The hum of instruments made me so sick I puked in the van. “Luca! Answer me damn it!”
“We had an agreement.”
“Bull shit!” I roared. “Why! Why can’t you just let me die?” The rage that had been my constant companion my whole life was threatening to take over, I looked for a weapon, for anything to end my own life, to go to Hell where I belonged. The shine of a scalpel caught my eye; I snagged it from the table and held it to my throat. “I’ll do it! Don’t think I won’t!”
Luca’s eyes took in my shaking hand. “Son, you’re story isn’t over.”
“Who are you to decide that?”
“Who are you?” Luca asked calmly. “I saved your life so you could save more lives—I offer you something better than death.”
“Oh yeah?” I hissed. “What’s that?” The rage was pounding against my skin screaming to be set free.
“Redemption.”
The knife clattered out of my shaking hands, I watched as it banged against the floor of the van and swayed a bit as his words hit me square in the chest.
And just like that, the rage I’d kept inside for so long, broke.
I broke.
And burst into tears.
“I can’t—I can’t.”
“You can.” Luca joined me on the gurney. “And you will.”
“I have nothing.” I whispered.
Luca held out his hand. “You have blood.”
“Phoenix? Are you even listening to me right now or are you seriously stupid enough to stare at the wall while I lecture you?” Nixon paced in front of me. Damn it, felt like I’d been sitting in his office for hours. Pictures of me and the rest of the guys lined the walls. They may as well have been years ago, eons. I wasn’t that same person, didn’t even recognize that face in the picture. It looked so casual, so carefree. I had been anything but that.
I refused to look at the smile on my face.
In fact it made me so damn sick I wanted to puke up every ounce of food I’d had for the past week.
My life had been such a joke.
And now, it was about to get worse.
“Yeah,” I whispered and leaned forward. “I’m listening, man, and I’m sorry I kept so much from you, but—”
Nixon’s fist came flying so hard that when it hit, I heard bone crack in my jaw before I fell to the ground in a bloody heap.
“That,” Nixon spat, “is for being a complete ass to Trace. I’m still not over it, and it’s going to take more than you saving my life for me to be completely calm with you two in the same room.”
I wiped the blood from my mouth and felt my entire body sag with defeat. “Understood.”
“Don’t get up.” Nixon pushed his boot into my back and pressed me hard against the area rug. “I will end you if you as much as look at her with anything other than indifference. Do you feel me?”
Hell yeah, I felt him; his boot weighed a hundred pounds. “Yes, sir.”
“You work for us, you don’t work for yourself. You protect us, you protect the girls, and you tell me every damn detail. Yes?”