Chapter 16

SIXTEEN

Laura

M y head clanged with a thousand danger warnings. Laying on the devil's chest was insane. I'd lost my god-damned mind.

The way he swept his fingers through my hair sent confliction warring through me. The delicate, almost curious stroke of his fingers made tingles dance along my spine. Which left my stomach feeling like I'd swallowed a whole beach full of rocks.

Sighing softly, I focused on the diary. The pages had seen better days, and the text inside harried and rough. The first page held a date nineteen years in the past and a mass of scribblings.

Imran says I have to write my feelings down. If I don't they'll burn me up. Stupid bitch didn't even notice the words she'd used. I've burned enough. The plastic mask and gels I have to have applied so many times a day should be enough for her to think about what she was saying.

My whole family is dead, and everyone keeps refusing to talk about it. They act like me being unable to talk means I don't need answers. Do they know I tried to save May? I tried so hard.

The ink smudged near the bottom of the page, making a few words illegible. I'd cried over enough teen ramblings to recognise a tear splash. My teenage angst filled diaries had been about far more trivial matters, however.

Phoenix's chest rose steadily beneath my cheek, his warmth far more soothing than I should have found it.

‘Who's May?' I asked, looking up into his masked face.

LITTLE SISTER

Pain filled those dark eyes of his and I bit my lower lip. Being so close to him, I could see the web of scars filtering up from beneath his t-shirt and snaking up over the side of his face. Imaging him as the kid in the diary made my heart ache.

‘How old were you?'

13

The soft traces of his fingers still made me want to pull away from him, but I fought the urge.

So young. He'd tried to save his little sister, from what? A fire? It had to be. Resting my cheek back against his chest, I continued reading.

Uncle Bryan hates me. He doesn't want me. He told me the only reason he was taking me in was for my parents' insurance money. Five hundred thousand pounds was all they had been worth. Everyone acts like the money should help sooth everything, but I don't want money. I want Mum and Dad and May back.

Her screams fill my head whenever I close my eyes. The way her skin bubbled and peeled when I tried to pull her out from under the beam. It stuck to my own burning fingers. I cried when they'd peeled it away knowing it was all I had left of her. I told her I'd go back for her. That I'd get help.

I hadn't gone back for her.

She died alone, waiting for me.

I daren't breathe. My eyes welled up reading his tortured words. My own family's bloodied bodies flashed into my head and a lump filled my throat.

‘It wasn't your fault,' I whispered, trying to suffocate the tears that threatened.

Phoenix didn't respond. He toyed with a strand of my hair and I wallowed in his pain. Our pain. We weren't so different after all.

‘Is this why you came back for me?' I asked, my vision blurring the pages in front of me.

YES

I closed the diary, my heart unable to bear any more for the time being. Kneeling up, I face Phoenix, gathering up my courage.

‘You don't have to wear your mask around me if you don't want to. It has to be uncomfortable to wear it all the time.'

He scanned my face, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply.

‘We both have our scars. Mine may not be as big, but it isn't pretty.' My stitches itched at the mention of my wound, and I pressed a hand against my hoodie over the spot where I'd been shot by the man I thought I loved.

He slipped his hand up, and peeled the mask away from his face.

I fought the urge to gasp at his mouth, where the skin was melted together, only a tiny space on the far left open. His eyes lowered, clearly waiting for my repulsion.

‘You should never have to hide,' I said, placing the diary on the wooden bedside table. For the first moment he'd taken me, I understood in part why. He lived a life hidden away because of the scars he'd had inflicted on him. Inside and out.

And that knowledge could help me.

I didn't doubt he was still dangerous. That he wanted more than a companion. Perhaps, though, he would have a softer side I could appeal to to gain my freedom. Even if it meant submitting to him in the meantime.

Phoenix reached over and turned out the lamp, surrounding us in darkness. An arm wrapped my waist and pulled me down onto the bed, holding me tight to Phoenix's chest.

His nose buried into my hair, making me wince.

DON'T PITY ME, he wrote on my neck with his other hand.

And just like that, I realised underestimating him wouldn't help me at all. Did I think he'd let me just read in bed without pushing himself on me?

One hand slid up my hoodie, cupping one of my breasts as he groaned softly into my neck. Squeezing my eyes closed, I waited for him to use me, fear making my skin prick up.

Then his grip loosened, his fingers slackening against my nipple. His breathing slowed and his arm grew heavy over my waist.

Phoenix fell asleep, holding me like a fucking teddy bear.

For a moment, knowing he was asleep, I let myself indulge in the feeling of a large, muscled man pressed against my back. I closed my eyes and imagined Massimo hadn't betrayed me. That he'd loved me like I'd longed for him too. That I was a thousand miles away and wrapped up in real love.