32. Phoenix

32

PHOENIX

V eronica dangles from the rafters, her eyes wide with fear as I step into the warehouse, the air heavy with anticipation and vengeance. I’ve left her here for a few days to stew. But it’s not her that concerns me; it’s Tilly. I turn to her, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Tilly, maybe you should wait outside. This won’t be pleasant.” I can’t hide the concern in my voice. The vicious side of me is about to be unleashed, and I’m not sure she’s ready to witness it.

But Tilly surprises me. “No, I want to see it. I want to watch you put that bitch in her place.” Her eyes burn with an intensity that wasn’t there before, a darkness borne from my kidnapping of her.

I search her face, seeing the determination etched in her features. It’s my fault that the darkness has tainted her, that her pure soul now carries a shadow. And yet, at this moment, I love her all the more for it. She’s mine, stronger because of what we’ve endured together .

“Are you sure?” I question.

She steps closer, her eyes never leaving mine. “I’m sure. I want to be here with you. We finish this together.”

I nod, my throat tight. “Together,” I echo. Taking a steadying breath, I turn toward Veronica, who glares at us with hatred.

Tilly stands at my side, her shoulder brushing my arm. We are united against the woman who tried to tear us apart.

It’s time for vengeance.

Keeping Tilly by my side, I move closer to her, smiling grimly. “Hello, Veronica. Long time, no see.”

Veronica struggles futilely against her bonds. “Phoenix, please... I know I hurt you, but I can make it right. I’ll do anything.” Her voice quavers, fear seeping into the cracks of her brave fa?ade.

Ignoring her pleas, I reach into my pocket and retrieve a knife, the metal glinting menacingly in the harsh warehouse lighting. “Anything, huh? Well, I’ve always been a fan of poetic justice.” I tilt my head, studying her with false curiosity. “What was it you used to say to me? ‘I own you, body and soul?’”

Understanding dawns in her eyes as I move closer, the knife glinting in my hand.

Veronica’s eyes go wide as she realizes my intention. “No, Phoenix, please. You can’t?—”

Tilly steps forward, her eyes never leaving Veronica’s face. “Oh, but I think he can. And he will.” Her voice is steady .

“You don’t understand—” Veronica begins, but Tilly cuts her off.

“I understand enough.” Tilly’s gaze shifts to me, her expression unwavering. “Do it,” she says, her voice a quiet command.

I tighten my grip on the knife, my breath coming in short bursts. Veronica’s fear-filled gaze meets mine, and I see the vulnerable boy I once was reflected in her eyes.

With a roar, I slash the knife through the air, slicing through Veronica’s clothes and drawing a thin red line across her chest. She screams, the sound echoing off the warehouse walls. I move closer. My actions are frenzied as I continue to cut, needing to erase every last trace of her hold on me. The knife slices through fabric and skin, each cut a release of the pent-up anger and pain she inflicted.

Her screams pierce the air, but Tilly stands her ground. She watches, her eyes never flinching from the gruesome scene. Her presence grounds me, even as I descend into a mad frenzy of violence. My knife cuts deeper, marking her flesh, each slice a promise that I’ll never let anyone hurt us again.

As the initial rage begins to ebb, my cuts become more deliberate and more calculated. I want her to feel the terror and pain she inflicted on me and, no doubt, others.

The screams turn to whimpers, her body going limp in defeat. I step back, my chest heaving, the knife falling from my hand. Tilly’s breathing fills the silence, her eyes taking in the scene.

“Is it over?” she asks.

I bend down and pick up the knife, my eyes never leaving Veronica’s broken form. “Not yet.”

With a flick of my wrist, I slice through the ropes, binding her, and let her crumple to the ground. She whimpers, her eyes pleading for mercy. I offer none.

Taking Veronica’s chin in my hand, I force her to look at me. “You made me into a monster, Veronica. It’s only fitting that I slay the monster that created me.”

The knife feels heavy in my hand, but it’s a weight I’m used to bearing.

“I was just a boy, ten years old, scared and alone. You were supposed to take care of me, to be my safe haven. But instead, you stole my childhood, piece by piece. You groomed me, manipulated me into believing your sick games were love.” My voice trembles, the hurt little boy I once was colliding with the hardened man I am now.

Her eyes plead for mercy, but she doesn’t deserve any. “You controlled me, using my fears and my desperate need for affection against me. You made me dependent on you, convincing me that no one else would ever love me.” I step closer, the knife poised at her throat. “You stole my innocence, corroding my trust and planting seeds of self-doubt that took root and flourished.”

The knife shakes in my hand as I battle my own memories. “You tried to destroy my chance at a normal life, filling my head with your poison. I became obsessed with control, with dominance, and it’s all because of you. My whole life veered off course because you decided to take advantage of a vulnerable child.” My voice breaks, the years of pain bubbling to the surface. “You’re the reason I became a monster.”

There’s no escape for her, no denying what she did. My hand tightens around the knife, the blade pressing against her skin.

“Please, Phoenix—” she begins, but I cut her off.

“No, it’s too late for pleas and excuses. You had your chance to be my savior, and you chose to be my tormentor instead.” My voice cracks, the hurt little boy battling the monster I’ve become. “I hope you burn in hell for what you did to me, for what you did to Tilly.”

With a sudden movement, I slash the knife across her throat, ending her life in an instant. Her body goes limp, the light fading from her eyes.

I drop the knife and step back, the reality of what just happened hitting me like a punch to the gut. Tilly’s hand finds mine, her touch grounding me. I look down at our entwined fingers, her slender hand offering silent support.

I shake my head, trying to clear the cobwebs of memory. “Let’s get out of here,” I say hoarsely, turning away from Veronica’s body.

Tilly squeezes my hand, offering unspoken comfort as we grab a can of petrol and begin dousing the floor, the fluid spreading in a glistening pool.

I move toward Veronica’s body, pouring the fluid over her, cleansing her of the evil that infested her.

The warehouse fills with the sharp scent of petrol, an offering to the gods of vengeance. I trail the fluid like breadcrumbs, a path leading us out of this place of darkness.

Together, we walk, our steps in sync as we approach the exit. Tilly’s hand never leaves mine, our connection a tether.

At the door, I pause, turning to look back at the warehouse one last time. I flick open the lighter, the spark of the flame reflecting the burning rage within me.

With a final glance at Tilly, I drop it. The flame catches, igniting the fluid trail, and we step back, watching the fire dance and devour.

The warehouse goes up in a blaze of glory, the flames consuming the darkness, the smoke rising like a purge of all the twisted memories and pain. I breathe in the night air, tasting freedom for the first time in years.

I feel lighter, the weight of my past lifting from my shoulders. With Tilly’s hand in mine, I’m ready to face whatever comes next. We walk away from the burning building, our steps carrying us toward a future that feels brighter than it has in a long time.