chapter four

Phoenix’ POV

I feel like a motherfucking douchebag just standing here and watching her whilst she endures the pain of burying her last relative and the woman who raised her, but if I go to her to comfort her, I will not be able to stop myself from having her. That is the last thing she needs, so I will stay away. Even if it feels like my soul is dying a little more every day, I will endure this distance for her sake.

The breeze carries her intoxicating scent over the beach and right up into my nose. Fuuuck, she smells like sea salt and spearmint. My mouth waters and my cock reacts by trying to burst through my zipper and point at what he wants, drooling like a damn class A moron.

My brothers all went home a while ago, but I can’t bring myself to leave until she is tucked up safely in her bed. I tell myself I'm just watching over her, like I always have, but it's all lies. I need my fix before I leave. My wolf won't give me a second of peace until I have tucked her in and kissed her goodnight, not that she will ever know I was there.

Antonellia, the slippery fuck, dared to show his face at Gwynn’s funeral. He crawled out from under his rock just to make sure the old woman was really gone. When her daughter and son in law were first killed, she kicked up such a fuss about the cops being corrupt and not believing their bullshit, she is lucky Antonellia had gone to ground and wouldn’t risk putting out a hit on her whilst the heat was still on him. Gwynn had fire, I liked that about her. Something about her just invited you in and made you feel like one of her own, but you could be sure she wouldn’t put up with any nonsense either.

My wolf is restless and I know our run tonight will be long and gruelling. It’s the only way for either of us to get out some of our frustration and find a tiny shred of inner peace.

I keep my distance as Rose turns and walks up the wooden steps to the front door. Her cheeks are blotchy and stained with makeup from the tears still steadily dripping from her chin. She pauses for a second with her hand on the door handle and takes a deep breath. She closes her eyes and whispers to herself, but I hear her clear as a bell.

“I’m done waiting.”

Then she lifts her head and looks right at me before stepping into the house. So maybe not talking to herself exactly, but there is no way she knew I would be able to hear her from over here.

“Fuck. Shit. Fucking fuck.” I hiss under my breath as I run my fingers through my hair and scratch my nails down the back of my neck. I told her to wait for me but I never expected her to remember. I had hoped she missed me, as selfish as that sounds. I’m an unconscionable arsehole, I know. I want her to want me, my wolf needs her to want him. The only thing worse than the distance would be rejection.

Those words felt like shards of glass sliding under every inch of my skin, slowly and painfully. Now I know why death by a thousand cuts has the reputation it does.

I stand frozen to the spot with the sound of my pulse whooshing in my ears, straining to hear her shuffling around inside. I hear the tap as she gets a glass of water, then her footsteps as she walks down the hallway, up the stairs and into her room, flicking lights off as she goes. She talks nonsense to her cat, Mr Waffles, as she goes. Despite my frustration, I smile at the memory of her twelfth birthday, the day I gave her Mr Waffles. She was giddy with delight, and the ginger kitten's feet didn’t touch the floor for the rest of the day.

Her routine is the same every night, as is mine. I wait until I hear her breathing even out in sleep, then climb the tree, which is oh so conveniently right next to the little balcony off her bedroom.

The first couple of times, I just stood outside the double doors and watched her sleep. That was all I needed to keep me going and allow me to go home and get a few hours of broken sleep. Since Gwynn died, just seeing Rose hasn’t been enough. I tried to talk myself out of picking the woefully inadequate lock, but when she started tossing and turning and crying in her sleep, all of my self-restraint withered away.