Phoenix (Own The Skies Book 2)

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Phoenix (Own The Skies Book 2) Page 15

by Emma Nichole


  He’s stays off to the side of the party, not coming near the pool or games the kids are playing, he’s just off by himself, talking to Grayson, or texting someone on his phone.

  Enough is enough. Asset time.

  I stand and shed my towel then look around for Case. He has moved over to the table in the back with Grayson while he cleans the grill.

  I motion for him with my finger when our eyes meet, then place my hands on my hips.

  He leans over and says something to Grayson before standing. Grayson stands too, saying something that stops him from moving forward. Case turns and responds, holding up one hand and nodding, as if to say it’s all right.

  I move a little closer, standing about ten feet away from the pool when Case finally starts toward me. He glances toward the water occasionally, but mostly keeps his eyes on the ground until he is just a couple feet from me.

  “You know, for someone who is at a party, you sure are being mopey,” I tease.

  “Mopey?” he asks with a small smile.

  “Mmmhmm. And that just won’t do. I don’t know what happened today or why you seem off, but I’m going to make you lighten up, Carmichael.” I poke him in the chest.

  “Are you calling me a party pooper?” A hint of smile forms on his face.

  “As a matter-of-fact, yes, I am.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” He smiles even bigger. There’s my Case.

  I reach over and grip his hand. “Where’s your phone?”

  “Here.” He fishes it out of his pocket. “Why?”

  “Can I see it?” I place my hand out and he gives it to me without hesitation and I place it on the table. “Just want to make sure it won’t be ruined.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I don’t answer with words, only with action. I begin to tug him toward the pool, as hard as I can.

  “You’re going in, Case, whether you like it or not.”

  “No. Nora. Stop. Seriously.” He is pulling back against me, and I assume he’s just playing because no one really wants to get thrown into a pool. But they laugh afterward.

  “Come on, you big baby. Lighten up because you’re getting your ass in that pool with me.” I give him a big tug and we move toward the pool.

  “No! No! Nora! NO!” he shouts through the air and grabs my arm, pushing me back so I let go of him. I lose my footing and tumble back to the ground. His voice boomed so loudly, I literally felt it echo off my skin.

  My palms are on fire from catching myself on the concrete and I stare up at him in shock.

  Everyone is silent and Amelia is on her feet in a second, moving toward us.

  He’s shaking, pacing like a caged animal before sliding his hands into his hair and tugging before he looks my way. “Nora...”

  He steps toward me to help me up and I scurry back, shaking my head. “No. Don’t come near me.”

  “Case...” Amelia says, as she approaches my side and bends to see if I’m okay.

  “I’m sorry, Nora. I’m sorry. Amelia, tell Cadence I love her. I have to go.”

  And just like that...he takes off, jogging from the pool area and into the main building and presumably out to his truck.

  When he’s finally out of sight, I let the tears and a heaving breath leave my body.

  “Oh my God. What was that?” I say, with my hand to my chest.

  Grayson moved in record time from the grill to the pool to check on Cadence, then to Amelia and I, all the while glancing in the direction Case went.

  “What happened?” he asks, helping me up.

  “Your friend is an asshole. That’s what happened. He screamed at me for trying to PLAY with him, Grayson. I don’t let anyone shout at me. And then he pushed me away and I fell.” I wipe my eyes. “In front of all these, people. Jesus.”

  “What? Case wouldn’t put his hands on you. Ever.”

  “No. He yelled, yes, but he was just trying to get me to let go of him. I lost my balance. He didn’t actually push me to the ground.” I check my palms and they are a bit scratched but mostly okay.

  “What led up to it? I don’t understand,” Amelia says.

  “He seemed so off. I wanted to make him lighten up a bit. I was going to push him into the pool and he freaked out on me.”

  Grayson steps back a pace. “Aw, fuck.”

  “What? What was so wrong about that?” I ask.

  “Grayson? You should go talk to him because he made my best friend cry, and I kind of want to punch him in his face right now,” Amelia adds, pulling me in for a hug.

  “Nora,” Grayson says, “Fuck, I’m going to go check on him. See what the fuck is going on his head.”

  “I’ll make sure everything is okay out here, but tell him he’s on my shit list, Gray. I mean it,” Amelia says, before checking my palms again. “We should clean these.”

  Grayson just nods then jogs toward the main building, leaving me in a state of shock, confusion, and anger.

  Case

  The breathing techniques aren’t working. Nothing is fucking working. There isn’t a breathing technique to fix “fucking asshole.”

  I shouted at her. In front of everyone. I made her cry. I hurt her.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I am pacing the men’s locker room in the clubhouse, with both hands locked behind my head, trying to temper the anxiety attack that is brewing under the surface.

  The look on her face is forever seared into my brain. I’ll never forget it. The day I scared her off.

  I hear the door push open before I hear my name. “Case?”

  “Go away, Grayson. I’m fine. I just need a minute then I’ll go.” I don’t stop moving, I just keep pacing.

  “Like fuck am I going away,” he says. His voice is louder now, as he comes into my line of sight. “What happened out there?”

  “Is Nora okay? Cadence? I made a scene at her party. Grayson, I’m so sorry.”

  “Cadence is fine. She’s five years old. She’s already forgotten and is back to her party. Nora is, well, she’s pissed off and confused.” He grabs me by the shoulders and forces me to stop moving. “Look at me. Relax and tell me what happened.”

  “But she’s physically okay?” I ask again, needing to know I didn’t hurt her.

  “She told us she lost her footing. She’s okay,” he adds, and I relax just a little.

  “I fucked up, man. I knew being here would be hard, but I came anyway. I wouldn’t miss this day for Cadence.”

  Ever since that day when we were kids, even being near a pool, a lake, or even the ocean has been nearly impossible for me. My therapist says it’s a form of PTSD and even now, decades later, I can’t shake it.

  “I told you I could tell her you had to work. You didn’t have to come. I know how hard it was,” Grayson says.

  “I wouldn’t flake on her like that. I’m a grown man. I should be able to deal with something so fucking small.” I’m angry now, and embarrassed. Embarrassed this is even a problem. Embarrassed I reacted the way I did.

  “Grown or not, you can’t help what your brain is telling you. You almost died when we were kids, Case. Had that police officer not been driving past at the exact right moment to help me get you out, you would have died. That’s not something you just get over.”

  “Those people out there—Amelia, Cadence, her friends, most definitely Nora—didn’t need to know, or have my bullshit rained down over them. My job is to protect and serve. How can anyone trust me when I’m too scared to fucking swim in a pool?” I shout, throwing a fist into the wall, cracking the drywall and breaking the skin on my knuckles. “Fuck!”

  I shake out my hand as pain radiates upward from my fist. I flatten it out to look at the damage and see blood appearing on each knuckle.

  “Fuck’s sake, man. Easy. Don’t break your damn hand,” Grayson says, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Too late. Fuck.” It really hurts. “I need to get out of here.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right
?” he asks.

  “I just need to shake this off and gather my shit.”

  “And talk to Nora. She deserves to know why this happened,” he says.

  I slide my uninjured hand through my hair and give it a tug. “She does...and she will.”

  Grayson walks out and back to the party, leaving me to take a moment to wash the blood from my hand in the sink and then head back out into the clubhouse so I can get to my truck.

  I push open the front exit door and step out into the balmy summer air, making a beeline toward my vehicle, hoping no one who saw the incident decides to say anything.

  Two rows over and six spaces back sits my truck and there is a petite, curvy, blonde who I don’t deserve leaning against it, with a blue towel wrapped around her body and flip-flops on her feet.

  “Phoenix...” I say. It’s all I can, even though she deserves for me to drop to my knees and apologize, I just stand here and say my nickname for her.

  “What the fuck, Case? What was that?” she says, with a shake of her head.

  “I can explain and I will just...not here. Not now.” I need to go. I need to leave. I need to go run. Literally and figuratively.

  “If not now, then when? And it better be really good because I don’t let anyone shout at me like that. Not you. Not anyone.” Tears are forming in her eyes and my fingers itch to wipe them away, but I don’t want to touch her and cross the boundaries that have inevitably formed after this.

  “Come to my house tonight. Nine.”

  “Why should I? Give me one reason why I should give you the time of day?” she asks, stepping closer to me until we are nearly touching.

  I can feel her breath, her heat. I can smell her sunscreen. She’s shaking. I can see her plump lips trembling, and she’s shifting from foot to foot like she’s antsy.

  My actions are no longer mine.

  My heart and my brain take over.

  I grasp her face in my hands, ignoring the pain radiating from the top and pull her to lips to mine.

  I step forward, which causes her to step backward, until her body is pressed into the door of my truck.

  Her lips are tense and firm for a second, in shock no doubt, but then she relaxes, parting them to allow my tongue access.

  Her hands slide up and grip the tops of my shoulders and pull me closer; my knee goes between her legs, pressing into her center.

  She moans against my lips as our tongues slip, slide, and move before she finally thinks better of it and gives me a sharp shove away. Our lips break and she covers her face in both hands.

  “God, Case.” She shakes her head behind her hands before finally dropping them, so I can see her eyes. Her lips are red and swollen from our kiss, and I have to physically stop myself from reaching out for her to pull her back into me.

  “Tonight.” I let the one word hang in the air.

  She stares me directly in the eye before she finally releases a breath and, without acknowledging whether or not she’d come see me tonight, walks away from me and back into the clubhouse.

  Chapter 20

  Case

  I’ve never been one to watch the clock. I’m generally an easy going, casual, it’ll happen if it happens kind of guy. At least, I am outside of work.

  I’ve never sat and simply stared at the time over a woman. Ever.

  Until Nora Masen that is.

  Phoenix. The spitfire I’ve become so attached to that I’m sitting in my house, alone with my dog, staring at a clock, waiting for a knock on my door.

  Rain is trickling outside as a summer storm rolls in. It’s an everyday occurrence in this part of the South. A little bit of rain, every, single day. Sometimes more, never less.

  Each minute that ticks toward nine o’clock, I lose more and more hope she will actually show.

  “I fucked up, Arya,” I say, and she just tilts her head in response from her spot on the couch.

  I check my phone for texts that aren’t there, for calls that never came, for anything to show she’s tried to reach out, but there’s nothing. Not a peep.

  “When did I become this man?” I say out loud, but really to Arya, as if she can answer. “When did I become the man who just waits around for the woman to come to me? Fuck that.”

  I stand from my spot on the couch. “If she wants to play stubborn and refuse to hear me out, that’s fine, but I’m stubborn. I’m bullheaded too.” I swipe my keys from the table and move toward the door. “I’m going to her.”

  I swing the door open and am met with the most beautiful pair of eyes I’ve ever seen and an arm raised as if she were about to knock.

  “Holy shit!” Nora says, placing her hand over her heart. “You scared me. Were you watching for me or something?”

  “No...I was coming to you.”

  “But you told me to come here at nine,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “I didn’t think you were going to come.”

  “So you were going to chase me down?” she questions, arching her brow.

  “I was going to make sure you heard me out. I was going to make sure you had all the information about what happened.” I lean against the doorjamb.

  We just stare at each other—like we are waiting for the other to make a move—when Mother Nature forces our hands, in the form of a loud thunder crash that pulls a yelp from Nora’s lips, and sends her jumping into my arms.

  “Whoa. Easy.” I wrap an arm around her back to steady her, minding my now wrapped, busted hand.

  “I’m sorry.” She pushes back. “That startled me.”

  “Let’s go inside before it gets bad out there.” I step aside to give her room to come in.

  Arya barks once, in excitement, then bounds over to greet her.

  “Hi, sweet girl.” Nora is down on her knees, eye level with Arya, rubbing both sides of her head. “You’re so cute.”

  “Thank you,” I say with a grin, trying to lighten the tension.

  She looks up at me with an eye roll. “You couldn’t resist, could you?”

  “When it presents itself, I must oblige.” I stuff my good hand into my pocket and she notices the wrapping on my other.

  “What happened to your hand? Are you all right?” She stands and instantly takes it in hers to examine it.

  “It’s just a little banged up. I can move my fingers. It’s okay.”

  “What did you do?” She’s lifting the wrapping to see.

  “Got into a fight with drywall.”

  She shakes her head and sighs. “Did you at least clean it?”

  “Peroxide, then soap and water, keeping it dry and wrapped,” I tell her.

  “I’m impressed.” She releases my hand.

  “Learned a thing or two about treating immediate issues while in the Academy.”

  “Ah, yes. That makes sense.” She then turns her attention back to Arya, who has been patiently waiting for more attention.

  “Hungry? Thirsty?”

  “For some reason, I have a feeling this conversation will require alcohol,” she says.

  “I think you might be right. Jack and Coke good with you?” I say, heading to the kitchen.

  “Jack and Coke sounds great.”

  “Great. Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back and then we can talk.” I leave her alone with Arya and disappear into the kitchen.

  I pause for a moment and gather my wits. I don’t like talking about this. I don’t like reliving it. I’m embarrassed by the effect it has had on me and my life, but after what I did today, she has the right to know why, and if she never wants to see me again, that’s her choice.

  She leaves next week anyway.

  My heart constricts at the thought.

  I make my way over to the cabinet and pull down the bottle of Jack Daniels and two glasses.

  I think I’ll need a double for this.

  Nora

  “Why am I doing this, girl?” I say as I pat Arya’s head.

  When I took a seat on the couch, she immediately j
umped up and laid her head in my lap. She’s so calm and loving. It’s hard to believe she’s an officer and is trained to hunt down bad guys.

  “I like your dad a lot, but what he did today wasn’t okay. You agree, don’t you?” She just sighs heavily and nuzzles into my touch. “Good talk.” I laugh a little.

  “Were you talking to my dog?”

  I look up and see Case holding two drinks in one hand.

  “Well...yes. She’s a good listener, but she’d rather cuddle than talk,” I say, scratching behind her ear.

  “Yeah, she’s good for that.”

  He walks across the room and offers me one of the glasses.

  “Thank you.” I take the glass and immediately sip a little. “Mmm.”

  “You’re welcome.” He moves across the room and sits in the chair across from the sofa, giving me a bit of space. I’m both sad and thankful for that fact.

  “So...”

  He drinks a bit more then places his glass on the coffee table. “So...” He takes a large breath. I can see his shoulders rise and then fall like he’s waging war within himself. I can see the entire battle playing over his face before finally, one side wins. “When I was nine years old, I nearly drowned in a backyard pool.”

  “Oh my God, Case...”

  He holds up a hand. “Let me get this all out.”

  “Okay.” I sit back and listen.

  “It was cold, winter time, too cold to be in the pool, so lots of people had the plastic covers over their pools. Grayson and I were playing outside, like we always did, and we ended up in his neighbor’s backyard. I thought it was a fun idea to try to walk on the cover.”

  I am gripping the glass in both hands now, feeling the condensation form under my fingers, my heart racing as the story continues.

  “Grayson didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to get in trouble, but I always had to show him up. I made it about halfway across before the cover tore and I fell through.”

  I can see his hands are starting to shake. He’s really struggling to talk about this.

  “I could swim, hell, I used to be in the water all the time as a kid, but with the cover over me, I got confused. I panicked. I fought and fought and tried to swim up, but all I could feel was plastic. I can’t explain that kind of fear, Nora, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life. There was a moment I just decided I was going to die. Imagine that. Nine years old, resigned to the fact, it was your last moment on this Earth.”

 

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