Page 118 of Scavenger's Oath
Heat flashes up my throat. “He saved her from something I should’ve stopped.”
Phoenix’s eyes narrow, not cruel, just razor sharp. “That’s why you ignored her up there? Or is it something else?” He taps one finger on the blood-covered ground. “You’re scrubbing like a priest with a dirty secret. But there’s something you can't scrub off this floor... or off your conscience. Maybe a certain something that happened last night?”
“Shut your fucking mouth!” I bark.
I told him too much this morning, even with my clipped answers. He saw the way I couldn't look at her without tasting bile. Heknowswhat I did, what I almost did.
And now he won’t let me stew in it.
Phoenix smirks. “That’s a confession if I’ve ever heard one.”
My pulse hammers and a low growl reverberates through me as I stand, tossing the brush into the bucket like it’s the one to blame for all this.
If I tell him everything, he'll never let me near her again.Maybe heshouldn't.
Phoenix exhales through his nose and stands to his full height as well, still an inch shorter than me. “Confessions are cheaper than bleach, brother. Go talk to her.”
“I'll talk to Ivy when she can breathe without wincing,” I growl.
“You'll talk to her now,” he corrects, suddenly playing commander. “She's upstairs asking why her safest place won't look her in the eye. You’ll fix that before it rots.”
I open my mouth, ready with a retort, but then think better of it.
He's right, and it just twists the knife deeper.
Myles comes clomping down the stairs with a new doorpulled off one of the rooms up there.
He glances at us, sweat darkening his collar. “Ivy’s cleaned up. Gave her ice packs but we need to freeze something else before they melt. I think she has a concussion.”
I look back down at the floor.
If I watch him too long, I'll remember Ivy's blood on his face, perfectly mirrored. Like a stamp…a kiss.
The jealousy burns hot like acid, and I know he’s still wearing the blood like a fucking medal of honour.
Myles notices. “You got something to say? Say it.”
Phoenix steps between us, palms raised definitively. “Later,” he snarls. “Right now, we reinforce the building and dump the bodies.”
Bending down to the bucket, the world tilts for half a second. A slow, nauseating roll of too little sleep and too much guilt washing over me.
Phoenix claps my shoulder. “Whoa. Take a breath, soldier. Don’t worry about this. Then go upstairs and patch things up. We’re gonna finish getting the new door on and dump the bodies.”
Myles scowls at Phoenix but doesn’t protest.
I don't either. I can't. If I open my mouth, the truth might spill out.
But when I head for the stairs, Phoenix’s voice follows low enough that only I catch it. “Whatever you did, it's eating you alive. Don't let it eat her too.”
Upstairs, the hallway smells of antiseptic and damp drywall. Myles’s door is cracked open, a sliver of lamplight spilling across the floorboards. I can hear her breathing, shallow and careful, pages turning softly as she tries to read without moving too much.
My knuckles hover over the frame and I almost walk away. But I forcemyself to push the door open instead.
Big blue eyes greet me. No fear, just an uncertainty that slices me open.
“Hey,” Ivy whispers.
Any apology lodges in my throat like broken glass. I've killed men and never shaken like this.
