Rising (Blue Phoenix, #4)(20)

Never this. He’s never been like this. But I deserve it, don’t I? I shouldn’t have lied. I made this happen. I lift my head and stare at the blood from my mouth on the white tiled floor.

I can’t move so I slump back down. Dan’s weight lifts and he pushes me onto my back, dragging my legs apart. I kick out again, my foot collides with his face, and he grabs my leg, forcing it to the floor. I don’t know this Dan; the man’s face looking back at me is contorted with a hatred I’ve never seen.

“Dan! Don’t!”

“You move and I’ll f-ucking kill you!”

His surety I’ll weaken at those words is his downfall because the fact I believe Dan triggers my next move. I focus on relaxing, letting him think he’s won and when Dan shifts enough to free my legs I push both knees up and slam them into his balls as hard as I can.

Dan lets out a strangled yell and falls backward to the floor, hands going to his crotch. “f-uck!” he attempts to yell, but the sound is hoarse.

I should’ve fought back weeks ago.

I pull my shaking body from the floor, grab my jeans and stagger to the front door. Blinded by the pain, I seize my bag from the hallway and crash through the front door, into the drizzling rain. Not looking back, I run barefoot to the car, as I rummage in the bag for my car keys. Climbing inside, I central-lock the doors just as Dan charges into the street. My hands tremble and I struggle to get the key in the ignition, but I’m safe.

“You can’t go! I’ll f-ucking find you! I know where you’ll be!” he shouts and slams his hands on the driver’s window.

The angry mask of Dan’s face is the monster who’s held me captive, convincing me he was the best I’d ever get; that I was worthless to anyone else. The growing realisation this isn’t true, and the increase in his physical abuse, has broken that control. Where once I was convinced he loved me, this switched to fear convinced he’d hurt me. This last attempt at violating me and breaking the frightened girl for good is just that. His last.

Focusing the rationality I have left, I manage to start the car and get into gear. Dan steps to one side as I rev the engine; he’s no longer in control now there’s a ton of metal between us. Slamming my foot on the accelerator, I drive.

For an hour, the rain on the windscreen and tears fight over which blurs my vision the most. I swallow down the urge to vomit, tasting the blood from my injured mouth, and focus on the road as I squint at the headlights beaming from cars travelling toward me on the opposite side of the road.

I can’t go to Jax. Dan will come for me.

I drive for another half hour. Rain. Tears. Pain.

Fear.

A lurching realisation.

I have nowhere. Nobody.





Chapter Nine





Jem



The intercom buzzes into my dreams, pulling me from the edge of the nightmare. I stayed up late attempting to finish a song I’m working on, and frustration hit when the notes wouldn’t gel. The time spent recording the Phoenix album last year is lost in my drug-addicted haze; I was dragged through the process by the guys. Not our best work. These days, the songs wake me in the night, months of buried creativity pushing to the surface and consuming. I’d kill for a session with Dylan, to be in the recording studio with the guys.

I grope the side of the bed for my phone and squint at the display, three a.m. Who the f-uck comes here at three a.m.? No missed calls, so whoever it is doesn’t know me well enough to try calling first.

Muttering expletives under my breath, I head out toward the intercom. The sticky weather has broken and rain pours outside.

“Yeah?” I snap at the intruder.

“Jem?” A woman’s voice. f-ucking great, I thought late night groupie visits had stopped.

“Who’s this?”

The intercom crackles again. “Ruby.”

Her name jolts me to alert. “Ruby?”

“I didn’t know where to go.”

“Wait there. Gate’s opening.” I hit the button to unlock the security and pull my jeans on.

My confusion follows me downstairs, through the carefully restored Victorian house to the original but now heavily secured doors. Unlocking and sliding back the bolts, I pull open the front door.

Ruby stands on the porch, soaked. The security light shines on the red hair flattened by the rain, water running down Ruby’s pale cheeks. Tears or rain? A thin blue t-shirt and jeans are glued to her body, and the expression on her face rips my heart out. Ruby often looks lost; but this girl is terrified.

“What happened?”

“Sorry, I didn’t know where to go,” she repeats.

I step back and gesture to the doorway, Ruby walks in and drips rain onto the floor. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologising. Why else do you think I gave you my address?”

Her face is messed up, a cut below her blackening eye. She shivers and I don’t know what the f-uck to do.

Ruby misreads my hesitation. “I can go.”

“No. Upstairs.” I gesture to the polished wooden staircase and she slowly climbs, unsteady on her bare feet. This is f-ucking bad.

Again, Ruby hovers, this time in my lounge room, staring around at her surroundings when I flick the lights. She squints against the spotlights so I swap them for a lamp in the corner of the room.