by Megan Hart
He wasn’t going to last here much longer, though. Not without losing a large portion of what remained of his mind, and there wasn’t that much there to begin with. Not for the first time since running from the men who’d tried to kidnap him and his sister, Phoenix wondered if spending the rest of his life always looking over his shoulder was better than signing up with the Crew the way Persephone had.
Yeah, he knew she’d done it. They had a connection that went beyond the talents they’d each been born with. Maybe because they were twins. Whatever it was, he knew if she was in trouble, and although he’d had a few waves of emotional upheaval from her over the past few months, it had more to do with the fact she’d fallen head over heels in love with the cop from her apartment building, not because she was in any kind of personal danger. Phoenix could’ve tried to save her from a lot of things, but he couldn’t save her from love.
He knew she worried about him. He’d risked contacting her, just the once, a couple months after leaving her behind. He knew she’d forgive him for it—she’d had the cop with her, and Persephone had never hated the idea of joining the Crew as much as Phoenix had. She was all right. He was going to be all right, too, he told himself as he looked out the window at the falling snow covering the narrow alley behind the house he’d been renting.
The woman he’d met in the market earlier tonight was struggling with her trash can. Willa, he remembered. She’d been having a rough day. That irritating woman Babs had been in her way. He’d nudged Babs to move. Okay, so he’d done more than nudge. He’d mentally shoved her hard enough to leave her numb for a few hours, but damn, she’d been so absorbed in herself that he’d had to push that hard. He’d added the urge to spill her guts just so she’d embarrass herself. It was far from the worst thing he’d ever had someone do, and besides, Phoenix had always thought people that irritating deserved to be manipulated into doing stuff that made them look dumb.
He’d already known Willa, of course, even though he was a stranger to her. He’d seen her from this window every single day, morning and night, for the past four months. She’d never spotted him because he’d barely come out of the house. Bumping into her in the market couldn’t even be considered a coincidence, since Pappy’s was the only place in town to buy groceries, so seeing her there was no shock.
What had surprised him was the way she’d been able to resist him when he’d nudged her to give him the cereal. He hadn’t wanted it, not really. He’d done it as a test to see what he could poke her into doing for him.
Willa had resisted.
It wasn’t the words he used that turned people into puppets, it was something different, something deep inside his mind that Phoenix had never and probably would never understand. Like flexing a muscle—you didn’t think consciously about it. You just did it.
However, Willa had not done as he’d nudged her to do. She’d been about to, her hand on the cereal bag and her intention to follow his desire obvious. Yet at the last moment, she hadn’t done it. Nobody had ever resisted him before. He supposed it was possible there were lots of people in the world who’d be able to, but Willa was the first person who ever had.
He watched her now, struggling with the metal trash pail she was trying to empty into the dumpster. She wore a pair of fleecy pajama bottoms beneath a heavy parka, her feet shoved into oversize winter boots that nevertheless were slipping in the mess of slushy ice. Before he’d quite decided to do it, he was ducking out the back door and down the alley. She looked up, startled and wary at the sight of him. He couldn’t blame her. If she knew who he was and the things he’d done, she’d have run screaming.
“Sorry,” he said smoothly, with a jerk of his thumb toward the house. “I live next door. Saw you might need a hand.”
“I’m fine.”
He watched her struggle with the pail again, her boots slipping in the muck. There was no way she was going to get the leverage to lift it into the dumpster. “I’m happy to help you, Willa.”
She looked at him, eyes narrowed. Mouth thin, nothing like the smile she’d given him earlier in the market. “I said I’m fine.”
“You should really let me help you,” Phoenix said with a nudge.
Willa tensed visibly. Her frown deepened. “Look, I said I was fine. I don’t need you to—”
With an easy reach, he snagged the can from her and lifted it, using his other hand to flip open the dumpster lid. He emptied her pail into it and handed it back as he closed the lid. Grinning, he waited for her to thank him. Ladies almost always did when he pulled that he-man trick. They went all fluttery lashes and heaving bosoms and usually invited him back to their boudoirs to show their gratitude. Not that he was going to go to bed with her, he thought, since they were neighbors and he was in Penn’s Grove to hide out—not to get involved with someone he couldn’t leave behind the next morning.
Willa didn’t. “Wow.”
“Wow?” Phoenix hesitated. He hadn’t thrown on a coat before running out here, and he was starting to get cold. The hems of his jeans were soaked. And she was looking at him like he’d handed her a package of dog poop.
“I don’t need a knight in shining armor.” Willa looked him up and down, but instead of her eyes glowing with desire, she was barely concealing a sneer of disdain. Strike that. She was absolutely not concealing it—she was full-on sneering.
Phoenix, stung, tossed up his hands. “I was being nice!”
“You’re being...weird!” Willa said with a glance over his shoulder toward his house, which was connected to hers. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“I haven’t lived here very long.”
“I’ve never seen you anywhere before tonight at Pappy’s. Penn’s Grove is a very small town.” She took a step backward, keeping the pail between them.
“Hey, I’m sorry.” He backed up a few steps, making himself less of a threat. “Really, I was only trying to help.”
“Were you spying on me?”
“No, I was just looking out my window and I saw you, I thought you could use a hand. That’s all. Truly.” Contrite, uncertain what had made her react so strongly, he consciously made himself smaller and less of a threat. Without thinking, he nudged her again, trying to get her to trust that he meant no harm.
The nudge had the opposite effect. Willa winced again, her expression darkening further. “I didn’t. I don’t. I’m fine.”
“Okay. You’re fine.” Phoenix didn’t try to argue with her any further. He turned and walked away, hopping up the steps of his rented house with a backward glance at her. She’d already gone inside.
He’d really screwed that up, he thought, not sure how. Not sure why it mattered. Only that suddenly, it did.
Chapter 2
Willa had had the whole world to live in, but she’d chosen to stay here in Penn’s Grove. She wasn’t a fan of regretting life choices, but on days like this, she did allow herself to think about what her life might’ve been like if she’d gone away. She would be too far from her parents to help take care of them. Too far from her nieces and nephews to go to their school concerts and soccer games. She wouldn’t run into her old elementary and high school acquaintances who’d grown up and had families of their own.
She wouldn’t run into him.
She could have run away from Penn’s Grove, but she’d stayed, and that had been braver choice. It didn’t even bother her that much anymore when Brady Singer came into the library with his kids, or that his gaze skated over her behind the checkout desk without so much as a flicker of recognition. It was better than the times when he paid attention to her.
Today, with the snow falling thick outside, she hadn’t expected a lot of patrons in the library. The early dismissal for the kids had brought a number of people to grab books and movies to keep them entertained, but that had been before the storm really began. She’d been look
ing out the window of her office, noticing the darkening sky and considering closing early, when the familiar SUV pulled into the parking lot and Brady got out with the three mini versions of himself. The kids had spent the past twenty minutes searching the stacks for books while their father waited impatiently at one of the computer desks, drumming his fingers.
Kathy hadn’t made it in to work today, and Willa had already sent Tom home in advance of the bad weather, so it was up to her to check out their books. She waited in her office for them to come to the desk, greeting each of the boys with a smile and a comment on their choices. It wasn’t their fault their father was an asshole.
“Come on,” Brady said from behind the youngest boy, Tyler. “Move it. I want to get home before the roads get any worse.”
His pale blue eyes flicked in Willa’s direction, but she made sure not to meet his gaze head-on. They’d long ago come to the unspoken but mutual agreement that neither would acknowledge the other unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then it had become like speaking to a stranger. She checked out what Curt, the oldest boy, had chosen and handed them back. When she got to the middle boy, Parker, however, she frowned.
“Sorry, there’s an outstanding fine for you, kiddo. You can’t check out any new books until this has been taken care of.” She tilted the computer screen so he could see the book and the amount.
“Son of a bitch,” Brady said. “Damn it, Parker. How much is it?”
She cleared her throat, showing him the screen even though he wasn’t looking at it. “It’s twenty-seven dollars. Is it possible you maybe lost the book?”
“Did you lose it?” Brady cuffed the back of Parker’s head.
The kid winced away from the slap. “No, Dad. I turned it in.”
Brady fixed Willa with a cold stare. “Kid says he turned it in. Take off the fine.”
“I can’t just...” She could, of course, just remove the fine from the system. That it had gotten so high in the first place was a surprise, but Brady and the boys hadn’t been in to the library in months, so there wasn’t any way she’d have seen it before today.
A shift of motion behind them caught her attention. The front doors had swung open, admitting that guy from the market. Her neighbor with the white knight complex and the unusual name. He looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him.
Brady snapped his fingers in her face. “Eyes on me, hello. I told you to take care of this fine so we can get out of here.”
“I can’t just take the fine off, I have to list the book as lost, and if the price of the book is more than the fine you’ll have to make up the difference before he can check out more books,” Willa said calmly. Under other circumstances, she might have agreed to help. The finger snapping had done it for her.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Phoenix had been standing quietly behind Brady, but now he tapped the other guy on the shoulder. “Hey. Watch the profanity. There are kids here.”
“They’re my kids, and I’ll say whatever the fuck I want in front of them,” Brady said. “Or you. Back off.”
Before Willa could say a word, Phoenix let out a low chuckle and shook his head. Snow was still melting in the red-gold lengths of his hair, which today tumbled over his shoulders and halfway down his back. He sported a few days’ growth on his cheeks and chin, too. Dressed in a plaid flannel shirt, jeans and work boots, and again no coat, he was rocking the lumberjack look.
To Willa, he said, “If they pay the fine, the kid gets to take out books again?”
“Yes. And if they find the book, they keep it.”
“Just pay her and be done with it, man,” Phoenix said to Brady. “Why give her a hard time about it?”
Because he could, she thought with a glance at the man who’d made her life hell. Brady was looking back at her, gaze steely. She waited for him to go off, but instead he pulled out his wallet and flipped a couple of twenties over the counter toward her. Willa took the money before it could fall.
“Keep the change,” Brady said.
I can make people do what I want them to do.
Phoenix’s words echoed in her head as she scanned the rest of the library books and watched Brady and his sons exit the library. That left her alone in here with Phoenix. He wasn’t looking at her; he was watching Brady leave. When he did turn his gaze to hers, he smiled at what she was sure was not a welcoming expression.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
* * *
“The library is closing,” Willa said.
Phoenix looked around the empty space. The Penn’s Grove library was small, cozy, and on a day not overcast with storm clouds, it would’ve been full of light from the bank of large windows along one wall. The shelves had been set up to maximize the space and provide plenty of areas for patrons to sit and read or work at small wooden cubicles or in the computer center. With the storm predicted to last for the next day or so, he’d intended to grab a stack of reading material to keep him occupied.
“I’ll be quick,” he promised.
He could tell she was hesitant, but on the other hand, it was a public place and her job was to provide services. She nodded after a second or so. She looked as though she might say something, but didn’t. Phoenix made good on his promise, choosing a pile of books at random from the new and recommended-reads shelves right there by the desk. He could feel her watching him from her office, where she’d retreated while he browsed. He was careful not to look back.
Phoenix was willing to bet that she had a history with the man who’d been hassling her and that it had a lot to do with why she’d reacted so strongly to him showing up unexpectedly. When he set his choices on the counter, Willa came out of her office to reach for the books. She looked at him.
“You don’t have a library card,” she said.
“I was going to get one now.”
“Of course,” she said with a nod. “You’ll need a bill with your name and address on it.”
Phoenix frowned. “I don’t have one.”
“Driver’s license?”
He didn’t have one of those, either. He had credit cards in other people’s names that he used sparingly because these days it only took a time or two of unauthorized use before the cards were revoked. He had his charming smile. He had his talent. Neither of those was working on her.
“I walked out without anything. Can you give me a break?” He tried again to nudge her. Again noticed the soft flinch she probably didn’t even realize she’d made, but he did. Intrigued, he tried again, gentle but persistent.
Willa shook her head. “I shouldn’t. It’s against library policy.”
“It’s a blizzard. I don’t have anything to read. Give a guy a break, please?” Phoenix had wooed women with less effort than this for greater rewards than a to-be-read pile.
Willa’s smile curved the tiniest bit, not reaching her eyes at all, but it was better than a frown. “How about I take the books out for you, and when you have what we need to get you set up with a card, you can come back and get one. But if you run off with the books, you’ll regret it.”
“Yeah?” He leaned on the counter with one hand.
“Yeah,” she said and started checking out the books quickly and efficiently.
Phoenix waited for her to pause and look at him before he said, “I won’t run off with the books. They’re safe with me. You can trust me.”
“Oh, I’m sure I can’t trust you at all,” she told him lightly, but with no doubt in her tone that she meant every word.
“But you’re letting me take the books.”
Her smile widened, more like the one she’d given him in the market and not the way she’d looked at him in the alley. “Like you said, it’s a blizzard. What kind of horrible person would I be if I left you without books to read?”
> * * *
By the time they got to the parking lot, the snow had fallen shin-deep on top of the layers of ice from earlier storms. It covered the two cars there. Hers, an impractical black-and-red Challenger that she’d bought used but loved and treated like a baby. His, a four-wheel-drive pickup truck that had seen better days, the best of them long ago.
“You’re not going to get home in that. You should let me give you a ride.” He pointed with the hand not holding the library tote she’d lent him to carry his books in.
Willa frowned. Her car was not the best in the snow. “It’s only a few miles.”
“Fine. Risk wrecking your baby. I’ll be at home sipping bourbon and reading books in front of my space heater.” Phoenix opened his car door and tossed the books inside. “Suit yourself, Madame Librarian.”
“Wait.” She shuffled in the snow, her feet already going numb although she’d stopped to change from her black pumps into her winter boots. “Fine.”
Phoenix grinned but didn’t push the issue. He gestured toward the passenger side door, and she got in, shifting on the bench seat to make room for the tote of books and her own bag, which she’d also filled with reading material meant to last the length of the storm. Phoenix started the truck, which came to life with a coughing roar that made Willa laugh, startled.
“It’s not pretty and it’s not fast, but it won’t let us sit on the side of the road,” Phoenix said. “It can go off road, cross-country or get out of a ditch, should we find ourselves in one.”
“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”
He shot her a look. “I’ll be careful.”
Pulling out of the lot, he was indeed careful, looking both ways up and down the street even though there weren’t any other cars out. The plow had come through some time before, but enough snow had fallen since then that the truck slid a bit despite the heavy tires and four-wheel drive. Not enough to be scary or anything, since they were going only a few miles an hour, but enough that she had the chance to watch him handle the vehicle with skill.
