Page 63 of Phoenix
“My what?!” She laughs even harder.
“Or perhaps it’s the noises you make…total turn-on,” I admit. “You make me feel free, Mrs Flynn to be,” I whisper, and she turns her head to face me, hypnotizing me with her sparkling blue eyes. “For the first time, I feel like the Phoenix they all call me.”
She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to; it’s all in her eyes. She cups my face with her ruby ring catching my attention, then kisses me, slow and tender. It’s everything I never knew I needed.
_____
Phoenix
At the same moment we pull up to the bar, Jake arrives on his old motorbike with a backpack that’s seen better days. He could buy a new one, but I guess he has Flynn blood running through him. Our belongings need to be falling apart at the seams before we’ll throw them away. Niamh sees him and grins so wide, I can’t help but smile at her. She’s changed since I put that ring on her finger; she’s more relaxed, less on edge, and not looking over her shoulder all the time.
“Looks like my little brother is finally back,” I mutter, the word still sounding weird on my tongue. She merely giggles before bounding out the door and running up to him. She embraces him with so much enthusiasm, it has me feeling a little more affectionate toward him.
“How was it?” Jake asks as he walks up to the truck, his arm securely around Niamh.
“Better than expected,” I mumble as I begin the task of unloading the truck.
“Much better,” Niamh says, smiling with a wink my way before wiggling her ring finger under Jake’s face. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open before he grabs hold of her hand to study the ruby ring. I still feel proud of it whenever I catch her admiring the stones.
“Holy shit!” Jake gasps before leaning in to shake my hand. “Congrats, man! And Niamh, I am beyond happy for you both. How long will the engagement be? What kind of wedding are you gonna have?”
“Fuck, you sound like our sister,” I tease, to which Niamh shoves my shoulder. “Speaking of which, Lou asked us round for dinner tonight to celebrate; you game?”
“Of course,” he replies, still studying the ring.
“Cool, we’ll meet you there,” I utter as I begin marching up the door. “I wanna take Niamh out along the coast afterward.”
“The coast?” Niamh turns to look at me with curiosity written all over her face.
“Yeah, why not?” I ask her with a smug smile, then lean down to kiss her with far too much tongue for the public. “Perhaps we’ll find dragons.”
She bites her lip and giggles, so I grin and continue walking up toward the bar, readying myself for the run of problems there’s bound to be after having spent one night away.
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Niamh
Warren and I left Lou’s place before Jake so we could have an hour or so together without him being there. We made love before finally succumbing to our exhaustion. So much has happened within the last forty-eight hours, I almost forgot about Robert. Apart from him, my life is finally full of everything I have ever wanted since I returned home – love, safety, and belonging. However, I cannot escape him in my dreams.
Stanley walks beside me like he always does in my recurring nightmares. He cradles me with his wing as we trail up that hill with the sun beating down on us. He blows on a dandelion clock while I laugh at his inability to do so without setting fire to it. At first, he looks sad about it, but when he sees me giggling, he offers me a toothy smile. But then the clouds begin to gather, and I feel cold. As soon as the first raindrops fall, he removes his wing and begins to slump down in what looks like fear. I no longer feel his protection around me, no longer feel secure in the knowledge that I’ll get home safely. My childhood home comes into view with my mother laughing and chattering in the front room. I look at where the car is stationary, cold and grey.
“Don’t leave me, Stanley,” I whisper, even though he’s already starting to walk away from me. He looks scared and guilty, so I know he’s going to fly away at any moment.
The other car pulls up, the black Mercedes, looking like a funeral car ready to take me away.
“Stanley…?” I whisper my plea, for I cannot make my voice any louder, no matter how hard I try.
He looks at the car, then me, then back to the man who is now moving to open the door. I want to run to Stanley, but his eyes become angry; he is no longer looking like a gentle giant, more like a ferocious monster. I freeze in my footsteps and watch as he takes in a deep breath and blows out a ball of fire, along with plumes of black smoke. He then lifts off the ground and flies away, leaving me behind to face the man who plagues my nightmares. Only this time, there’s so much smoke, I can no longer see anything. I begin coughing and spluttering, all the while trying to battle the smoke left behind. However, I only end up falling to the floor in a heap of weak limbs. It’s suffocating and I cannot see my way out.
“Warren…?” I try to shout, but no sound comes out.
Just as my eyes begin to close in the dream, I come to with an audible gasp, ready to go to battle against the fire once more. Only, there is no fire, just a darkened bedroom with my fiancé sleeping soundly beside me. He’s thrown away the cover; he’s always too warm to need it, and his chest is rising and falling with even breaths.
My mouth still feels dry from my dream, so when I can finally feel my limbs again, I push back the cover and get up to my feet so I can go and grab a glass of water from the kitchen. I pass by the pictures of his family and smile, knowing that one day soon, I will officially become part of his family too. A thought that warms even me, the girl who is always cold. I glance up at the clock on the oven, realizing that I must have only been asleep for an hour, tops.
After grabbing a glass of water, I wander out into the darkened bar just to see if Jake is home yet. His bike is still missing so he must be out. I shrug my shoulders and begin to turn, but something makes me stop. The bike was missing, but the space in which it usually sits was not empty. Instead, there is something there that makes my blood run cold. A shadowy figure that has followed me around since childhood, one that isn’t just the imagination of a nervous little girl. It’s him. Even without seeing the details of his face, his clothes, his stance, I know it’s him. What is more, he has now crooked his finger up toward me and is beckoning for me to go to him.
I make no movement, even though my mind is yelling at me to go and wake Warren and not to try and face this alone. But then he steps out into the light, his face looks even creepier than what I remember of him. He is the stuff of nightmares, and he is looking directly at me, threatening to take away everything I have found from me.