Page 42 of Love Set Free

I’m sitting in a cushy chair, in an equally cushy passengers’ lounge, taking a sip of some truly excellent and strong coffee and looking out a giant window at all of the planes in their various stages of getting ready to take off. Phoenix briskly strides across the room toward me. Judging from the slightly smug smile on his face, the pilot must’ve given him the sort of diagnosis he wanted.

“Ha!” Phoenix holds his left hand in the air, flashing around his newly bandaged finger, the bandage looking crisp, white, andneatly wrapped around his injury. “I told you I was fine. You know…mostly,” he says, stopping a mere few feet in front of me. “Not much anyone can do about the bit of finger I’m missing, but Joel says it’d be a better idea to have a plastic surgeon take care of getting it all fixed up properly when we get home than to have someone here do it. So, see…I was right.”

“Yes, yes,” I reply, not wanting to get sucked in by Phoenix’s self-satisfied charm. Although, it is pretty irresistible. “And you’re sure this…Joelis qualified to make that suggestion?”

“Yep. Both he and the other pilot, Deb, are certified EMTs. I told you that.” I tilt my head to concede that, yeah, he’d mentioned that fact. “When Dad made them part of the permanent crew for his jet, he paid for them to get EMT training, figuring it could come in handy one day.” Phoenix shrugged and his smile, somehow, got even more smug as he added, “Looks like today wound up being that day.”

“So…boys… I’ve been informed that we’re just about ready to board. Now that Joel’s looked Phoenix over,” says Mr. Wilding, as he and Mrs. Wilding stroll over to Phoenix and I. He looks energized and ready to go, while Mrs. Wilding…well, she’s holding a giant coffee cup, nearly the size of her head, and had a pair of large, dark sunglasses shielding her eyes from the bright glare of the morning sun.

This morning is the first time I’ve seen Phoenix’s mother look less than perfectly put together. Not that she doesn’t look pretty and stylish, because she does. And for any other woman, her appearance would probably look perfectly fine. But I notice that her pulled-back hair looks just a little bit scraggly, with a few stray hairs falling out of the ponytail, and her light-weight slacks and sleeveless shirt sport a few wrinkles. Again, nothing that would normally be a big deal, but that strike me as her being less than pristinely composed as the other few times I’ve seen her.

“Ugh. And not a moment too soon,” she says, before tilting her face to Phoenix so that he can deposit a kiss on her cheek. “Good morning, Phoenix. Are we all ready to go? The sooner we can get in the air, the sooner we can land. You know I hate these longer flights.”

“Yes, Mom, we know.” Phoenix and his father both smile adoringly at Sophie Wilding.

“Besides…I want you at home so I can take care of you. I can’t wait to make you some of your favorite meals; you’ve lost some weight that I can’t wait to help you put back on.”

I’m feeling a bit like a little kid—sitting down while Phoenix and his parents are standing. So, I slowly rise to my feet as unobtrusively as possible, which isn’t all that easy with Phoenix standing practically on top of me.

Once I’m upright, it feels like I’m plastered against, and hidden by, Phoenix’s body, but not well enough, apparently. Because Mrs. Wilding lets out a slightly strained chuckle and adds, “And you too, of course, Jackson. You clearly need some good meals to fatten you up, too.”

She’s not wrong. Although, I’m not sure just how many good meals it would take to get me even anywhere close to fat—years of them, probably—and I’m not even sure my body would know what to do with a steady supply of plentiful meals.

I can’t help but feel that Mrs. Wilding isn’t just sure what to make of me—Mr. Wilding, either—and I’m not sure just how eager they are to be taking me as part of a package deal with getting their son back. But I do know my manners, so I reply, somewhat awkwardly, “Er…thank you, ma’am. Mrs. Wilding.” Then while I’m at it, I throw in a nod of appreciation for Phoenix’s dad as well. “And Mr. Wilding…thank you, too. For everything. The help with the paperwork stuff, the help with the police, letting me fly back with y’all on your plane… And the hotel stay, and the clothes. Whichever one of you fixed all of thatfor me…thank you for that, too. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for all that, but… Thank you.”

Sophie Wilding pushes her sunglasses on top of her head, takes a few steps forward, reaches her hands out for me, then tugs me out from behind Phoenix after I place my hands in hers. I get a glimpse of her warm brown eyes, so similar to Phoenix’s, looking soft and sympathetic, before she tugs me closer and wraps her arms around me in a tentative hug.

A large hand pats my shoulder; I’m assuming it belongs to Charles Wilding since my body recognizes that it’s not Phoenix’s.

“Now, now… None of that,” Mr. Wilding says. “No need to thank us. It’s what anyone would’ve done if they were in our position.”

“You were there for our Phoenix,” Mrs. Wilding adds. “So, it’s only right that we’re there for you. And it was easy enough for us to do; not like we can’t afford to help out somebody who’s become our son’s, uh, friend.”

Her slight hesitation at defining just what I am to Phoenix lets me know that it hasn’t exactly gone unnoticed that Phoenix and I are unusually touchy-feely. Personally, I don’t care. She and Mr. Wilding can think whatever they like about how Phoenix and I act around each other. I just hope that Phoenix doesn’t mind.

The other pilot, the one who didn’t check over Phoenix’s hand, gets Mr. Wilding’s attention, and he and Mrs. Wilding drift toward the other end of the passengers’ lounge to talk to the flight crew.

With his parents across the room, Phoenix steps up behind me and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. And now he’s the one hugging me, although, his hold on me is much more sure than his mother’s was.

I suppose, to anyone looking at us, it appears as though Phoenix and I are gazing out the windows, watching crews scuttle about and planes taxiing around the runways. But to me,everything beyond the large panes of glass is a blur. I’m much more focused on the feel of Phoenix’s embrace, and the warm security I feel in his arms.

“So…I’m not sure we’re going to be able to get out of going to my parents’ house,” Phoenix says, his voice rumbling near the side of my face and sounding sheepishly apologetic. “At least for the first night or two.” His arm tightens around me, not uncomfortably, but definitely tighter. “Fuck. I didn’t even think…”

Hands at my waist—both of his hands—prod me to turn around to face him. Phoenix’s dark eyes scan my face, looking for what, I don’t know. And there’s a furrow between his lowered brows; a furrow I’d like to soothe away with my fingers, or perhaps with a kiss.

I get a clue as to what’s bothering him when Phoenix says, “This whole time…I’ve been treating it as a given—we all have—that you’d just be coming back with us to Rhode Island. But you… You have your own home. Your own place, your own town, that you call home. And we shouldn’t have just assumed…”

Being February and all, I know the climate in Phoenix’s state of Rhode Island is not going to be at all the sort of climate I’m used to. The odd blast of snowy weather we experienced in Chattanooga back in December notwithstanding…I’m used to a reasonably mild winter season. So, no, I’m not looking forward to getting stuck in a place with days and days of cold and snow and ice—and whatever else a Northern winter brings. But there’s no force on Earth that’s going to keep me from going home with Phoenix. That’s just not happening.

“No, you should have assumed,” I tell him. “We’re together in this, yeah, you and me? Where you go, I go?” Phoenix seems to have bounced back from his captivity better than I have, even though he’s the one who should’ve been affected more. But maybe that’s because of his natural well of confidence,something I’ve never had. So, while I know I don’t want to be apart from him, I’m not at all sure that the same is true for him. “I don’t…I don’t want to lose you. I can’t—"

My words get choked off as my throat constricts at the idea that, at the end of a plane ride, Phoenix could step foot off the plane and out of my life. Never to be seen again.

Thankfully, Phoenix is there to soothe me, to conquer my fears with gentle hands and soft murmurs. “Shh… Shh… I know. I know, babe. It’s okay,” he says quietly, bringing his hands up to cradle my face, his long, elegant fingers softly cupping my cheeks. “I know you can’t...that you don’t feel safe unless I’m with you. I don’t mind. In fact...”

Phoenix brushes his mouth over mine. And I think...yes, I think this might be the first time he’s the one initiating a kiss. Not that he hasn’t been the one behind a lot of the other physical things we’ve done together. But I think that, so far, I’m the one who’s been doing most of the kissing.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Phoenix whispers against my lips.

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