Page 51 of Caged in Flames

Chapter Twenty Three

I'm lying in bed, almost boneless from the day, letting thoughts from my past overtake my mind.

When Richard sent me to military school, he made seeing a psychiatrist mandatory. I hated every fucking minute with the buttoned-up dickhead I had to talk to, but he wasn't completely worthless. I refused to divulge the details of my childhood before my mother met Rich, but I couldn't get away without talking about what we did to Phoenix.

He opened my eyes to the fact that I do feel more than just negative emotions.

All I have ever wanted in this stupid life was to not be alone. My mother is obsessed with herself, and how every person she meets could be used to benefit her. Since we left my dad, it's been me keeping to myself. Growing up with Rich was probably the best I could have hoped for. He taught me football. I taught myself everything else. I'll never be the kind of person who gets used again. In the past, I've done all the using. I can't say I hold on to regret for all my choices because I don't.

I try to redirect my thoughts, but it's hard. When we met Rich, I heard them mention a daughter. I thought I wouldn't be alone anymore. Maybe Rich could be a better dad than the one I had, and I was going to get a stepsister.

That isn't what happened though. My mom made it clear it was us or them.

Fuck, now that I know everything, I guess I understand why she wanted it that way.

For years Richard's daughter haunted our house. At first, it was a kid's curiosity. I just wanted to know more about the girl he left behind, but never let go of. Her ghost spoke to some twisted side of me. I wanted to know her.

Then, I wanted to hurt her.

I wanted her to be alone, just like me.

When I think about that, I realize I haven't been alone since meeting Sawyer and Jude. I used them against her, though. They've done nothing but have my back since we were kids and now, they're both paying for my choice.

I can't change that now. Putting her through hell used to feel good.

Watching her cower beneath me…

I don’t feel that way anymore.

I needed her to feel pain. But if her demons are anything like the ones that plague me at night, she was already in her own version of hell.

Now?

Now I still wanted to be the devil in her story, but not in the same way.

I don’t want to put her through more of the same cliche bully tactics. She probably reads enough of that shit if Sawyer was telling the truth about her little hobby.

There’s a switch that’s flipped inside me. I could blame it on my time away. Or I could be honest with myself and admit I was just a stupid insecure little boy. Either way, I know I’ve fucked up and there’s no going back and fixing it.

Watching Phoenix at the festival today, I felt like one of those dumb bugs that are being lured to their death by the pretty lights.

Like a ship battling the tumultuous oceans waters, I’ve lost myself to something out of my control. How do you navigate a storm to return to shore?

Why is this happening now? The burning fixation I’ve had for years, manifesting in hatred, has melted into something stronger. I don’t need to put her through hell when I’d rather raise hell for her.

The darkness inside of me has always been the safest place to hide from the rest of the world. So why is it that every time I see Nix, I want to chase her fucking light?

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