Phoenix (20 page)

He glares in James’ direction. “What did you say to her?” The protective
tone to his voice is unsettling, yet it makes me feel warm inside. I catch a
glimpse of Deborah rolling her eyes at Cathy. It makes me want to make a
comment about jealousy but I hold my tongue.

James becomes edgy with Phoenix’s intense glare on him.

“I didn’t mean to upset her,” he explains. “I was only trying to look out
for her.”

Phoenix laughs hard. “She doesn’t need your protection.”

I touch his hand softly then and meet his eyes before whispering, “Don’t
be rude.”

Some of the tension in his shoulders relaxes and then I hear the
unmistakable sound of Deborah’s derisive chuckling. Phoenix’s head whips around
to her and her face pales. Whatever he is communicating through his eyes must
be scary, because she looks like she’s finally seeing him for who he really is:
a man with a dark past and the ability to kill, not some vacuous hunk with a
perfect body that she can use for her own gratification.

“Do you have something you want to say?” he asks her, voice tight.

She visibly swallows and shakes her head. “No. Cathy was just telling me
a, uh, a joke.”

Cathy tugs uncomfortably at the collar of her blouse, clearly seeing the
same thing in Phoenix’s stare as Deborah just has.

Phoenix rises to his full height now. “Really? What was the joke, Cathy?
I like a good laugh as much as the next man.” Despite his remark, there is no
humour in his voice whatsoever.

I suddenly get that neither of these women has ever seen him like this
before, so threatening, so frightening. Cathy’s eyes flicker rapidly,
portraying her fluster. “Oh, you know, just one of those knock knock who’s
there numbers. It’s silly, really.”

“Silly is okay by me. Go on,” Phoenix urges her, his feet shoulder width
apart, his arms folded across his chest.

Cathy opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Her eyes are wide
and she looks like she wants to bolt. When she still doesn’t say anything,
Phoenix speaks. “I have one for you. Knock knock…”

Nobody breathes a word. He laughs, a deep, threatening sound. “You’re
supposed to say, who’s there?” His gaze lands on Deborah.

“W-who’s there?” she croaks out.

“Deborah.”

Her brow crinkles. “What?” A pause. “Uh, I mean…Deborah who?”

He takes a step closer and in a dark voice says, “Deborah better stop
spreading lies about Eve if she knows what’s good for her.”

“I don’t understand,” she says in confusion, looking nervously to Cathy.

“You understand perfectly. I have been hearing about your rumours from
several of my customers.” He takes another step so that he’s close enough to glare
down at her. Now his voice dips lower and there’s no mistaking the threat.
“Your husband will hear all about your antics if I you even utter Eve’s name
again. Take this warning and be smart, Mrs Stevens. There is to be no more of
your ridiculous, and quite frankly, childish behaviour.”

Deborah nods rapidly, her eyes wide in fear. She’s definitely recognised
the man Phoenix really is. “Yes, no more. I promise.” Then she grabs Cathy’s
hand and they hurry away from the stall.

Margaret is staring at Phoenix with a wary expression. “Well, that
certainly put her in her place.”

James rises and goes to stand by his mother, putting his arm around her shoulder
in a defensive gesture. I guess he thinks Phoenix might turn on Margaret like
he did Deborah and Cathy.

Phoenix gives him a dismissive look that says he could break him in a
second and returns his attention to me, holding out his hand. “Come, let’s go
and enjoy the fair, Eve.”

I glance at Margaret. “You don’t need me anymore, do you?”

“No, no, you go and enjoy yourself,” she replies, looking like she just
wants Phoenix away from her as soon as possible.

“Alright, I’ll see you.”

“Take care, dear,” she says and then Phoenix slips his arm around my
waist and guides me away.

“You – you shouldn’t have done that. They’re all scared of you now.”

“They should be scared of me. And if it means Deborah will quit her
little campaign against you then I don’t mind giving them all a taste of the
man I once was.”

“You’re not that man any longer,” I say, knowing it’s the truth.

“No, I am not. Still, you are mine now, Eve. We are each other’s, and I
will defend you with every last ounce of fight I have left.”

I stop and smile widely at him, touched, before grabbing his shirt and
pulling him down for a quick kiss. “That’s terribly romantic.”

“I can be romantic,” he murmurs against my mouth, a grin tugging at his
sensual lips.

“You can be very romantic,” I agree and then add, “for such a barbarian.”

He laughs softly in my ear. “I certainly like to fuck you like a
barbarian sometimes.”

“Shush,” I whisper in embarrassment, my skin prickling with awareness.
“Someone will hear.”

“Nobody heard me. Have I ever mentioned how much I love it when you
blush?” he runs his knuckles over my cheek.

I slide my fingers between his and start walking again. “You might have.”

“So, which ride do you want to go on first?” he asks, but it doesn’t
sound like he’s talking about the funfair. From the seductive look he gives me,
I take it the double entendre was intentional.

“The big wheel looks like it could be fun,” I say, gazing upwards and not
succumbing to his teasing.

“Come on, then,” he says with a dazzling smile and pulls me into the
queue.

Phoenix pays for our tickets and then helps me up onto the seat. He takes
his time strapping me in, his hands lingering over the cushion of my hips, his
eyes meeting mine hotly. The wheel moves slowly as the attendant loads couples
into the two-seater carriages.

I sit close to Phoenix, our thighs flush against each other, as we
gradually rise to the top. Once we are the highest point I peek down at the
ground below, thankful that I was never afraid of heights. In fact, I find them
sort of liberating. It’s enclosed spaces that I’m afraid of, ever since Maxwell
sealed me up in that manhole when I was a child.

Phoenix is running his hand up and down the silky material of my skirt.
Every time he does it, it hitches up a little higher. I’m sitting on the inside
of the carriage; the part that’s facing the rocky outcrop of a cliff that
lowers down onto the beach, while he is on the outside facing the funfair. No
one can see his hand as it inches its way under my skirt. The warmth of his
palm causes me to gasp as it comes into contact with my underwear.

I laugh nervously. “What are you up to?”

He gives me a tender look. “Nothing much. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to
defile you on a carnival ride, I simply want to touch you. Whenever I don’t
have my hands on your skin I’m thinking about the next time I will have them
there.”

I breathe heavily and turn my face away from him to stare down at the
crowds. I can’t look at him right now, otherwise I feel like I might tell him
to move his hand beneath the fabric it is currently caressing.

It’s a mistake to look at the crowd though, because when I do I make eye
contact with Maxwell, who is standing by one of the games stalls, my mother at
his side. He’s watching me like a hawk and I freeze up.

“What is it?” Phoenix questions, noticing my sudden tension and trying to
pinpoint what I’m gawking at.

“It’s Maxwell and my mum. They’re here.”

“So they are still holding out for that money?” he asks, eyes flickering
between mine as though trying to read something there.

“Yes,” I answer and then pause. In the quietest voice, I go on, “I might
have given them the impression that I was going to hand it over.”

His jaw clenches. “Why did you do that?”

“I was stalling them. I needed time to figure out a way to get rid of
them without handing over any money. Maxwell was so adamant about falsely
accusing you of attacking him. I went to the police station and told them my
brother was blackmailing me, but since I have no proof there’s nothing they can
do. I just…I didn’t want to involve you, Phoenix.”

“If you are involved then so am I,” he grits out, gaze darkening
infinitesimally. I can tell he’s annoyed that I went to the police without
telling him.

“We should just ignore them. They can’t force me to give them money. The
police are aware of Maxwell now so if he tries anything they’ll arrest him on
the spot. It’s all going to be okay.”

Phoenix doesn’t say anything and I can’t tell whether he agrees with me
or not.

Out of nowhere, he says, “Sometimes I lie awake at night thinking of how
he has hurt you and I feel like I’m going insane. I need to punish him. I need
to make him feel what you felt.”

I stare at him for a long time, not knowing how to respond.

Suddenly, I’m aware that the big wheel has come to a stop and the
attendant is motioning for us to get off the carriage. Phoenix swiftly undoes
his strap and hops out, leaving me to undo my own. I call after him, fumbling
with the buckle, but when I finally get it open he has disappeared into the
crowd.

“Phoenix!” I cry,
stumbling down the steps from the big wheel. People stare at me, wondering at
my panic. I continue to hurry through the throngs, searching for a tall figure
with dark hair. I stop at every stall and every ride, but still I find no trace
of Phoenix or Maxwell – or Mum for that matter.

I run down to the empty part of the beach but all I find are a bunch of
teenagers drinking bottles of cider and hanging out. I recognise one of the boys
as a student from my class. He recognises me too and immediately gestures for
the other kids to hide their alcohol.

“Tody, isn’t it?” I ask him out of breath.

“Uh, yeah. You aren’t going to tell on us, are you, Miss Pound?”

I stare at him confused before I realise he’s talking about the cider.
“No, no, could you just tell me if you saw a man come this way? Tall and tanned
with dark hair?”

“Nobody’s been down this way but you, Miss,” he answers, giving me a
funny look.

“Okay, thank you,” I reply and then hurry back the way that I came.

If the situation was different I probably
would
have reported them
for underage drinking, but I have more urgent things to attend to, such as the
fact that Phoenix could very well have flown into a rage and beaten my brother
to death. Not that he wouldn’t deserve it and not that Phoenix would actually
mean to kill him, but he is a trained fighter and the way he was trained was tailored
for killing.

Most of the people at the fair have parked their cars in a field across
from the beach that is usually empty. It’s packed with cars now and I rush into
it, searching for Phoenix’s truck. If it’s gone then that means that he is,
too.

I hear my mother’s high pitched screams before I see a thing. There are
too many cars obstructing my view but I let my ears lead me to the source of
the screaming. My heart beats hard and fast, anxiety bubbling up in me like
never before.

I can’t allow myself to think about why my mother is screaming. I need to
fool myself into believing that this is a dream. That it isn’t really
happening. When I finally reach her I find her crouched by Phoenix’s truck. I take
note of the fact that the trunk is wide open and that’s when I see them. The
only saving grace is that there is no one around because everybody is at the
funfair.

Phoenix is standing in front of my brother, his wooden martial arts staff
in his hands. He swings it smoothly around in an arc and brings it down hard on
Maxwell’s abdomen. Then he whips it in the other direction and hits him hard in
the middle of his back. Maxwell howls in pain and falls to his knees, not
knowing whether to hold onto his back or his front.

The way that Phoenix uses the staff reminds me of a scene I once saw in a
Jet Li movie. I’ve only ever watched him practice with it alone in the past,
mostly doing figure eight exercises and foot work. This is something else
entirely.

He raises it high above his head now before driving it down into Maxwell’s
ankle. His pained howling increases. I am mesmerised. My eyes zone in on my
brother, zone in on the way in which he is hurting. In my head my life flashes
by, every instance where he took pleasure out of beating me, out of making me
suffer and something strange happens. A weight is lifted and I exhale in this
indistinguishable kind of relief.

Is this karma? Revenge? All I know is that I need this, just this once to
see him suffering like he made me suffer. To see him stare up into the eyes of
the one who beats him and fear for his life. Because there were so many times
that I feared for mine.

Maybe Phoenix was right, maybe I should have allowed him to do this
sooner. Suddenly, he drops the staff and advances on Maxwell who is snivelling
like a baby. He grips the collar of his shirt and pulls him up, his hand fisted
for a punch. I’m vaguely aware of Mum grabbing a hold of me and shaking me,
urging me to tell Phoenix to stop, but I can barely hear her. I’m too
transfixed by Phoenix, the way he moves like the wild animal I’d once
envisioned him to be. Now I see that there is no taming this man and I would
never want to.

He lays a swift punch into Maxwell’s jaw and then knees him in the gut.

“
Poustra,
” he hisses in Greek. I’m clueless of the translation but
it doesn’t sound like he’s calling my brother anything favourable. “
Malaka
.”
He bends down so that he can glare into his face and whispers, “
Muni
.”

“Eve! Stop him!” My mother shrieks and finally I come to my senses.

“Phoenix,” I croak, my voice more air than sound. “That’s enough.
Enough
.”

His chest is rising and falling with his rapid breathing and his entire
body stills at my command. He doesn’t look at me, his gaze trained on the
ground. I stare at Maxwell, his face all cut up and bruised and wonder how long
Phoenix had been beating him before I got here. I look back to the open trunk
and realise that’s where he’d gotten the staff from.

“Get up,” Phoenix seethes, kicking Maxwell in the shin. “If I see you in
this town ever again, the next time I will kill you.”

Maxwell starts nodding like a fool, his eyes wide with terror. Then I
hear the siren of a police car and my brother’s eyes widen even further. Okay,
why would he be afraid of the police? He’s the one who got beaten, not the
other way around. Mum helps him to his feet and they hurry from the scene. I
watch them go, not understanding why they would flee. Surely, they’d want to
stay so that the police could charge Phoenix?

I walk over to him, not daring to touch him. There is an aura around him
now, one of danger and darkness. He moves and goes to place his staff back in
the trunk before slamming it shut. Several moments later the police car stops
just shy of his truck and Officer Weston hops out, alongside a younger
policeman with sandy hair.

“Miss Pound, good to see you again. We had reports of a scuffle in this
area. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

His eyes flick to Phoenix briefly and then return to me. I don’t know
what to say and I’m certainly not going to land Phoenix in it by telling them
he just beat Maxwell silly. “My brother was just here,” I blurt out. “He ran
when he heard the sirens.”

Officer Weston breathes out sharply. “Yes, about your brother, Miss
Pound,” he says and then takes a few more steps closer. “After your visit to
the station I ran his name through the system. It turns out he’s wanted by the
authorities back in Wales. The Cardiff police have been searching for him for
the past two weeks.”

“What?” I exclaim urgently. “What for?”

He seems like he’d rather not say and I know it must be bad. Finally, he
answers, “He is suspected of the rape and beating of a young man outside a
nightclub in the city centre. The man is currently in a critical condition at the
hospital.”

I let out a whimpering breath. Oh, God no. All of the strength drains
from my body in an instant and I have to brace my hand against the truck to
keep myself upright.

At this another police car arrives and Officer Weston asks me what way my
brother went. I show them and the car zooms off in that direction. Phoenix is
standing by me now, his hand on my shoulder. I feel like I can’t breathe. I
might be hyperventilating. Maxwell raped and beat a man. Somehow, my brain
doesn’t want to comprehend the idea. I had always considered myself to be his
only victim.

I can hardly believe it even though it makes the most sense in the world.
To have bullied and beaten his sister for years, it only seems natural that he
would move on to bigger risks in order satisfy whatever sick need is inside of
him. Guilt consumes me. Perhaps if I had spoken out before, this would never
have happened. I was just so frightened and I didn’t think that anyone would
believe me.

This is why he had been so desperate for the money. He needs it so that
he can go on the run.

“You should stay with a friend tonight,” says Officer Weston, breaking
through my thoughts. “With your brother on the loose it’s not safe for you to
be alone.”

“She’ll be staying with me,” Phoenix puts in and the policeman nods.

“That’s good. Okay, here’s my direct telephone number. If you see your
brother again you need to call me right away. If you can’t get through then
call the station. Stay safe, Miss Pound.”

And with that, he leaves, hopping back into the car with the other
officer and tearing away from us. I turn into Phoenix’s arm and bury my face in
his chest, too many emotions filling me up.

“I really hope they find him,” I whisper, wondering if my mother knows
what Maxwell did. If she does and is still associating with him anyway then I
hope the police catch her too and charge her for harbouring a wanted man.

“They will,” Phoenix assures me. “He is a bad person, but he is not a
clever one. I’m surprised he has managed to evade them for this long.”

A couple of minutes later Phoenix helps me into his truck and drives me
back to his cottage. He settles me on the couch and orders a Chinese takeaway
for us. There is a restlessness about him. He paces the room, continually
looking out the window as though hoping that Maxwell will show his face so that
he can finish the job he started.

I sit with the plate of food on my lap, hardly able to eat a bite. There’s
a voice in my head that keeps calling me a coward, berating me for not telling
someone about Maxwell’s abuse. Of course, everyone in my family already knew,
they just swept it under the rug and ignored it. But I could have told a
teacher at school. Harriet was constantly trying to persuade me to go to the
police but I’d always said no.

In the end, I have to grab my Mp3 player from my handbag and put on some
music to drown out my thoughts. Lying down on the couch, I throw my arm over my
face, blacking out my sight. A couple of minutes later the cushions dip down
under Phoenix’s weight as he settles beside me. I take my arm away from my eyes
and stare at him as he brushes my hair back from my forehead.

“Are you angry at me for what I did today?” he asks, a hesitant aspect to
his features.

“Of course not. I actually, well, there was something oddly relieving
about seeing Maxwell finally meeting a stronger adversary.” I let out a dark
laugh. “Mum kept shrieking at me to stop you, but I couldn’t. It was like I was
in a trance.”

Phoenix makes a sound deep in his throat and presses his lips to my
cheek.

“If I’m angry at anyone it’s myself,” I go on. “All these years of
keeping Maxwell’s abuse a secret, letting it eat at me from the inside out was
ridiculous.”

“It is hard to unlearn things, Eve, and he had been teaching you to be
afraid since you were a child. Don’t be angry at yourself. Be angry at him. He
is the only one who did wrong.”

I nod, allowing his words to give me a trickle of peace. The next thing I
know I’m half asleep and Phoenix is carrying me up to his bedroom. He tugs at
my clothes, stripping them from my body, and then crawls in beside me. With my
head resting on his shoulder, I fall back under.

Noise wakes me hours later, coming from somewhere outside. Phoenix has
already heard and woken up. He slips out of bed and walks to the window to peer
outside. I follow him as the unmistakable sound of glass shattering disrupts
the quiet night.

“I think your brother might have broken into your house,” says Phoenix in
a hard voice as he moves from the window and goes to pull on his jeans and
boots.

“Oh, my God!” I whisper in a gasp, my hand going to my mouth. Panic
spreads through me as I stare out the window. I can just make out the front of
my cottage as something goes flying through the broken living room window – a
lamp, I think.

“Do you think he went there looking for me?”

“More than likely.” Phoenix’s words are calm on the surface, but there is
fury lingering beneath.

I suddenly remember Officer Weston urging me to call him if Maxwell
showed up. I locate my handbag and rummage out the piece of paper before punching
the numbers into my phone.

“Who are you calling?” Phoenix asks, dressed now and grabbing his keys
from the nightstand.

“The police. What are you doing? You aren’t going over there. It’s not
safe.”

Weston answers his phone sounding sleepy and I hurriedly explain the
situation to him. He urges me to stay where I am and tells me that two squad
cars will be at my cottage shortly. I hang up the phone just in time to see
Phoenix leaving the room. I follow him down the stairs, grabbing his arm and
pulling him back.

“You can’t go out there. Please, don’t go out there. Just let the police
handle it.”

“What if he leaves before they get there? I want him arrested, Eve, and I’m
not going to let him continue destroying your home.”

His point is punctuated by the recognisable clatter of cups and plates
being pulled out of cupboards and smashed to the floor. It’s so quiet in his
little piece of countryside that I can hear it all so easily, even from thirty
feet away in another house. Something takes a hold of me, anger that Maxwell is
trying to ruin the home I’ve created for myself.

“Wait, then. I’m coming with you,” I say adamantly.

I return to the room to throw my clothes and shoes on. When I get back I
find to my dismay that Phoenix has already gone without me. A stark cry of fear
erupts from me as I rush down the stairs and out the door that has been left
open.

It is black outside, no streets lights, no lights at all except for the
ones drifting from the town two miles beyond, a dim yellow haze in the sky. I
trip on a stone and fall to the ground, my hands getting scuffed on the rough
road. I quickly get back up and continuing running. In the distance I hear
sirens. The police are almost here. I heave in air, the sound of it a rough “ooaaahh”
that comes from deep in my throat. Pushing open the gate, my feet pound down
the narrow path to my door. This one, too, has been left open.