“I’m going to teach.”
He spit out the water onto the counter and started laughing. “You’re going to teach what? How to bury a body in ten different ways without getting framed for murder? How to build a homemade silencer? How to piss off the genius bar at Apple?”
“You done?”
“Just getting started.”
“I’m going to teach…” I gulped. “…American History.”
Ax’s eyebrows drew together slowly. “You’re Sicilian.”
“We’re both American, asshole.”
“Yeah, but did you even take history?”
“Ten years ago,” I mumbled. “I’m also going to need something from you.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Ax held up his hands. “I’m married. I work for Nixon, not you. We just bought a house. We have a dog. I’m not burying any bodies so Nixon doesn’t find out.”
“Calm the hell down.” I ran my fingers through my hair and paused. “I need you to…” I shrugged. “You know.”
“Read your mind?”
“Shit, I hate you sometimes.”
Ax grinned and took a seat. “You were saying?”
“I need you to cut my hair.”
“Holy hell.” His face turned serious. “You really are teaching history?”
“New identity. Can’t look like the old Sergio. Now I’m just… Mathew Smith.”
“Could you be any more white and nerdy?”
“Could you be a bigger pain in my ass? Cut the ponytail. I can’t watch.”
“But—” Ax sighed. “You said you wouldn’t cut it until everyone was out of prison.”
Ha! Little did he know that we would be going to prison if I didn’t do something — fast. “Just do it, or I’ll ask your wife.”
“She doesn’t touch your hair.”’
“Then stop being a bitch and do it.”
“You in deep, bro?”
“Trying not to be,” I answered strategically. “You know I always liked to play hero.”
“No, you didn’t. I did.”
“Well, maybe it’s my turn.”
He let out a sigh. “I’ll grab the scissors.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Life hurts — sometimes I wonder if death is better. More peaceful.
Bee
PAIN SLICED THROUGH MY chest as I made my way to my next class. At least it was an easy class and not something that was going to make me want to cry, because I had no clue what was going on.
That was the other problem.
I swear I had a learning disability. The words always seemed to jumble in front of me when I got tired, and when it came to numbers, I was basically useless. But this was math, basic freshman-level math. I could do entry-level. How hard could it be?
I quickly found my desk and pulled out my notebook, just as Phoenix walked in the door and made a beeline in my direction.
One look to the kid sitting on my right, and suddenly the seat was empty. Well, look at that. I was surprised there wasn’t a puddle underneath the chair or at least streaks of sweat in the seat.
“Gonna scare all my friends, asshole?”
Phoenix glared, folding his hands on the desk. He opened his mouth just as the professor walked in and started talking.
An hour and a half of teaching.
I learned nothing.
Because my chest still hurt.
It still felt like knives had taken up permanent residence in my body, slicing through skin and bone every single time Phoenix looked at me with clueless eyes. Like he wasn’t aware of how I felt about him. Like I didn’t matter, even though sometimes he said I did.
People have it wrong. When you lose someone, when they die, it hurts. It’s horrible, don’t get me wrong. But the type of pain that stays with you? That never alleviates, that never lessons with time? It’s the kind that continues to refresh every single time you see a trigger or reminder of it.
Just being near Phoenix, knowing that I was nothing to him, that he’d protect me with his blood but never kiss me.
Knowing he was present but dead inside.
It killed me.
It was worse than him dying.
Because it was a constant tease, a constant reminder of what I couldn’t have. Being with Phoenix was like suffering a death every single second of every single day, and I was powerless to stop it.
Class ended.
Phoenix stood. And like a good little girl, I followed him out the door.
I wasn’t really paying attention and almost collided with another student.
“Oh, hey, Bee!” Pike stepped back and winked. “How was class?”
Phoenix growled.
I ignored him, though he made it difficult as he wrapped his thick muscled arm around my shoulder. I half-expected him to lift his leg.
Shrugging him off, I beamed. “It was great.”
Pike nodded. “Hey, a few of us are gonna go get coffee in a few minutes. You wanna come?”
“No,” Phoenix answered for me. “She’s busy.”
“I am?” I turned, tempted to smack him on his perfect face. “What exactly am I busy doing?”
“Homework.” He coughed.” And she has to go to bed… early.”
Embarrassment washed over me as I shook my head and offered Pike an apologetic smile. “Sorry about Grandpa. He didn’t take his medicine this morning.”
Pike burst out laughing.