Home > Ember (Eagle Elite #5)(6)

Ember (Eagle Elite #5)(6)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

The familiar pang of rejection hit me square in the chest. It shouldn’t affect me in that way. It really shouldn’t. I mean, when you got used to feeling it, shouldn’t you just stop reacting? But I couldn’t. It was impossible not to react, not to feel my chest seize up every time I felt like less of a woman because I didn’t know how to cook, how to clean, how to kiss, for crying out loud! I talked a big game, but I was kidding myself. I wasn’t even on the bench. I was a complete outsider, just begging for someone to pick me to join their team.

And that’s what sucked about wanting to join.

You always got your hopes up that one day someone would point and crook their finger.

And every time my hopes got up, they were shot down.

The timer dinged. I pulled the lasagna out. Nothing burned! I seriously could have done a little dance right then and there but refrained from making a fool out of myself when both Phoenix and Sergio walked into the kitchen.

“Smells good.” Sergio grabbed a few plates. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

“She doesn’t,” Phoenix answered just as I opened my mouth. There went that rejection again, washing over me, taking my one small triumph and making me feel stupid for even getting excited over the fact that I was able to turn the oven on.

I narrowed my eyes at Phoenix and grabbed some forks. “I thought it would be nice to cook for you guys, and since I don’t really know how, I’ve decided to teach myself.”

“How to turn on the oven?” Phoenix said dryly.

I flinched. Like, actually flinched from his statement — maybe because he’d said it once when I’d managed to warm up pizza inside the box and nearly burnt the house down. You’d think I’d be used to his barbs, but for some silly reason, I’d forgotten to put on my armor that morning, and the hits kept coming, aimed at my heart, my soul, my insecurities.

Sergio sighed. “Don’t be an ass, Phoenix.” His gaze was one of pity when he locked eyes with me. “Thanks, Bee, it looks great.”

A compliment.

One compliment, and my eyes were already filling with tears. I hated that about myself. Despised it actually. One compliment, a real compliment, even said in passing, was enough to make me a sobbing mess — probably because compliments were so rare, like jewels or diamonds. I’d spent my entire life being put down, amazing that it only took one ounce of kindness to help me straighten my shoulders and look someone in the eye. I grabbed a plate and handed it to Phoenix.

He looked at the plate then at my hand. “I’m not hungry.”

Sergio groaned. “Didn’t I just tell you to stop being an ass? What? Four hours at the gym still couldn’t work that bad seed out of your system?”

“Once a bastard always a bastard.” Phoenix’s jaw twitched as he took the plate from my hands and set it gently on the counter.

“You should eat.” I found my voice. “You’re going to need your strength if you plan on working out for so long every day… you need calories.”

“I need sleep,” he muttered under his breath. His sweat-clad shirt hugged his body, making his muscles look so sharp, so defined it was hard not to stare. “I’ll just make a protein shake and go to bed.”

“But—”

“Bianka.” Phoenix didn’t smile. Didn’t pat me on the hand. Didn’t do anything, just said my name — my real name, not the nickname he’d given me — and I backed off. Way off. I knew that look. No arguing.

“Right.” I heaped a giant stack of lasagna onto my plate and started eating while watching him out of the corner of my eye. Broccoli, spinach, kale, green apples. Seriously the guy had a thing for green. He dumped everything into a blender and added two scoops of protein powder.

“Color.” Sergio snorted. “You should try it.”

Rolling his eyes, Phoenix reached into the fridge and pulled out two strawberries. He dropped them in the blender and then flipped Sergio off as he punched the switch. Groaning at first, the blender soon began to whir as it chewed the ingredients into a nasty green pulp.

Sometimes I hated living with them, but I had no other choice. Sergio was usually so grumpy I wanted to dump Prozac into his coffee every morning, and Phoenix was so haunted it may as well be Halloween every day of the month.

The sound of the blender did me in.

The cutting growl.

I hated loud noises; my ears had always been sensitive to them, maybe because, when I was locked in my room, all I ever heard was screaming, gunshots, and the sound of a vacuum cleaner hitting my door over and over again. Picking up glass, blood… who knew?

“Excuse me…” I pushed away from the table, hands shaking, and carried my plate to the sink. My feet tangled in something soft, and I fell forward, instinctively reaching out to stop my fall. With a sharp crack, the plate split into my hand, and searing pain exploded through my fingers as the edges sliced into my tender flesh. “Shit!”

Phoenix’s hands were on mine in an instant, picking away pieces of lasagna and plate. Blood spewed from my right palm. Wincing, I tried to pull away but his grip was too strong. He held my hand under the faucet and slowly ran his fingers over the deep cut. “You need stitches.” He turned and glowered at Sergio, kicking the dishtowel toward him. “And pick your shit off the floor, jackass!”

I tried to hold the tears in. When I couldn’t anymore, I looked away and mumbled, “I’ll be fine.”

   
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