Chapter 30

THIRTY

Phoenix

R elief swamped me the minute we were back aboard Old Bess with Laura singing softly in the kitchen as she put away the groceries.

I took to the deck, readying for sailing back out to sea a bit, maybe settling in one of the natural havens around the coast a bit. Away from people.

Realistically I knew decking a teenager was a bad idea, but the rage had wound me up all the same. Until Laura had slipped her fingers into mine.

In all my years, I'd never thought a pretty girl would willingly hold my hand. Sure they'd take my cash and bury their face in a pillow. With their eyes closed I felt like every other customer. My lovely little ember had reached out and healed a missing part of me. She'd held my hand in public. Not just for a moment to stay my anger, but for the remainder of the shopping trip. She'd weathered the stares and whispers with a sunny smile that melted away my ire. If she could take it, so could I.

A light rain smattered the deck, and I shoved my mask into my pocket to fully feel the sprinkles against my face.

The boat swayed gently with the incoming tide, and gulls squeaked over the harbour, swooping down over the distant cafe along the stony harbour side.

For the first time since the night I threw Laura into my arms, I turned on my phone.

Multiple beeps came through from various numbers, all likely to be burners. No one kept a number long in my game.

Two potential jobs, now long past. I didn't need the money, but had some shitty texts when I'd failed to help them. Unreasonable pricks could maybe just stop killing each other for a few weeks.

There wasn't a lot else. It's not like I had family or friends wondering where I was.

Another beep rang out.

Where the fuck is she?

Oh shit . The coroners must finally have figured out Laura wasn't amongst the charred corpses in the burnt mansion. That the old man I'd killed didn't pass for a young woman on further inspection.

Ignoring him was an option. But no response would likely make him more suspicious.

Damn it.

Who?

Laura. The seemingly undead bitch from your last job for me.

My fingers whitened around my phone. I tried to infuse my veins with calm, I needed to feign ignorance. If he knew I had Laura, he'd kill us both. Or he'd try, at least.

I just torched the place. No idea what you're talking about.

The three little dots danced on and off repeatedly.

Please buy it.

Listen to me, you dumb fucking animal. The police are looking for her, which means they are looking at me. If I find you've got her I'll make you sit and watch while every single one of my men takes his turn with her. When they've fucked her to death, they'll start on you. Last chance to let me know anything you know. If I find you lying, I'll track you down and make you wish you'd never been fucking born. So I'll ask you this once. WHERE IS MY FUCKING BITCH?

My jaw clenched. My possessive side rearing up like a cornered animal.

I sent one final text, before turning the phone off, smashing it beneath my boot, and kicking it into the ocean.

She was never yours.

N o one knows who I am. He can't find her.

I tried to assure myself the whole time I steered the boat away from shore. I needed distance until I could think it through.

I didn't know much about Massimo, except he was ruthless. An awful lot of truly terrible people shuddered at the mention of his name.

Eventually we pulled up in a sheltered bay, one long forgotten but once used by Scottish bootleggers and other unsavoury sorts.

My sort.

Laura joined me, looking delicious in a short pink floral dress and an oversized white cardigan. She must have showered and preened, her lips looking extra juicy with a bright coating of shining rose.

She carried a tray in her hand, and twirled carefully as she neared me.

‘Do you like it?' She asked.

I nodded. Frustration whipped through me. Laura deserved more than nods. She deserved a man who could tell her she was the most beautiful woman in the world. That I'd give my right fucking arm just for one of her smiles.

She sat beside me on the bench, her skirt barely reaching her thighs.

God damn.

Every inch of their soft, smooth surface needed to be worshipped .

The tray held my usual smoothie, but also two bowls of delicious smelling spicy soup.

Laura's cheeks pinked as she picked up her bowl and spoon. ‘You don't have to eat it if you don't want to. I know you're used to the shakes and…'

I didn't need another word. She'd cooked for me. We could share a meal that wasn't artificial tasting smoothies. No one had cooked for me since my parents died, my uncle never transitioning me from the high calorie shakes. Soup would never have been able to nourish me to the same level, so I'd never bothered with it. What was the point?

Now I had a point. My pretty little flame.

I turned my head as I pushed the straw into the smooth bowl.

‘It's okay,' she said. ‘There's no need to hide for me.'

I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath, before tasting the soup through the small hole on the side of my mouth. It slid quickly up the straw, warm, spicy flavour hitting my tongue.

I groaned, the sound caught as ever in my throat. Fuck. I'd forgotten what flavour was. I'd had nothing but cold, powdery fake strawberry for over a decade, and the soup may as well have been Michelin-fucking-starred.

‘You like it?' Laura asked, her face breaking into an absolute beaming smile when I eagerly nodded. ‘It's carrot and potato curry soup. I don't know many recipes by heart, but I know that one. We had to make it in school during home economics.'

Was there no part of my life she couldn't make better. Well, except burning down my house.

I finished my soup in record time, revelling at the heat inside my stomach. The soup was like a warm hug from the inside out.

The sun dipped near the horizon while Laura ate, sending an array of colours dancing across the clouds. Laura caught my gaze over the sea, placing her bowl down and scooting a little closer to me. Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her back against my chest, leaving my fingers resting against her shoulder.

Thank you, I spelled out in slow strokes.

‘You're welcome.'

Her chest rose against my arms, a contented sigh falling from her lips as we watched the dark shape of a bird murmuration swooping against the brightly coloured sky. It never failed to amaze me how they did so, moving as if one.

We sat there until the night conquered the day, a chill settling over us with each passing moment. Our conversation came in fits and starts, my finger spelling proving too cumbersome for anything more. Frustration filled me up, making my skin crawl.

I didn't want a stupid fucking pen. Or to have her read my broken words against her skin.

‘Phoenix?' she asked. I'd been so lost in my thoughts, I hadn't heard what she'd said.

Sorry , I spelled out, Lost in thought.

Laura turned to face me, her thigh pressing up against my leg.

‘I asked if you'd ever been kissed?'

Shame heated my cheeks at her question. Of course I'd never been kissed. I was a scarred monster. Most women couldn't even make eye contact, far less kiss me.

Running a hand through my hair, I shook my head .

‘Can I kiss you?' Laura bit at her lower lip after asking, those big doe eyes focused on my face as she awaited my answer.

It was all wrong. I should be the one trying to kiss her. Making her feel wanted.

After a moment's hesitation, I gave in, nodding once.

I reached out, cupping her face in my hand as my pulse hit a new speed record. Dipping down to meet her, her lips put pressure over my would-be mouth. There wasn't a lot of sensation in the old tissue, but it still sent electric shock through my system. Her breath was warm against my face, still smelling of spice. Leaning up, she peppered my face with a series of tiny kisses. My tongue pressed against the back of my teeth, desperate to be free from its cage to taste my girl.

Enough was enough.

M y reflection glared back at me in the mirror. The sun had just come up, glinting through the porthole and dancing on my blade.

The tissue covering my mouth was a knotted web of scars. Thicker in some spots, and thinner in others. Grazing my tongue along the inside of what my lips would have been told a similar story. Sealed in all but that one small spot.

Like tree roots, the scars spread up the side of my face, and down over my neck. The memory of feeling my flesh bubbling was still there, my cheek pressed against burning metal as I tried to grasp May's fingers, her terrible screams making me stay there despite the smell of burning fat and skin.

I'd worn the scars so long I couldn't picture the face that had existed before them. No matter what, I'd never be handsome. No matter the mornings I spent punishing myself with body weight exercises to give myself a physique intimidating to others. No matter what I wore, not how expensive my cologne was. The first thing everyone saw was my mangled face.

Except Laura. She'd seen past it. She'd pressed her lips against the ugly skin, and smiled up at me like I'd given her the best kiss of her life.

Lifting my blade, I pressed the tip through the gap, avoiding hitting my tongue. The knife was wickedly sharp, more akin to a scalpel than anything else.

Ten shaky inhales later, I still hadn't mustered the courage to do it. The blade trembled as I applied a little pressure at the corner of my mouth, a singular drop of blood escaping. The tiny cut made me wince.

Withdrawing the knife, I leant against the sink, watching the thin rivulet of blood drip down my chin and land on my bare chest.

A wave of dizziness hit as I gripped the handle of my blade, my hands growing clammy. My pulse thundered.

Come on you useless prick.

One quick cut and you can have Laura against your tongue.

The metal glinted in the light as I raised it to my mouth, opening my jaw wider to stretch the scarred skin. My breath caught as I panted through my nose. Steadying myself, I dragged the edge through the scarred tissue, fighting the scream that I wanted to wail. The skin was tough, and I had to wrestle the blade through it, blood splattering down into the sink. My chest painted red as I neared the other side of my mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks. I inhaled deep.

Through my mouth.

My teeth were coated in bright red blood, but I could SEE them. I ran my tongue along their scarlet covered surfaces, tasting the coppery liquid. Pain radiated, but so did excitement.

A laugh broke free. It was the most ridiculous sound I've ever heard, but despite the ache thrumming around my mouth I couldn't break the smile.