Loving Phoenix (Impact Of Her Adaptation) GirlxGirl

Three- Phoenix

Phoenix

I shouldn't have left her like that.

My stomach was in knots as I walked through the grass outside of Hayley's apartment building, my heart in my throat as the pained look in her eyes flashed through my mind in a sickening loop. I'd always been the one to protect her, to shield her from the harsh realities of this world, even when I had to lie to do it. Losing her trust was a risk I'd taken countless times. But the idea of her being hurt... or worse... was a burden I knew I could never bear.

Especially if the reason was because of me. Leaving her was something I never would have wanted, but it was a decision I felt forced to make. My enemies were getting closer and closer. Though I knew I could have protected her by bringing her with me into hiding, what kind of life would that be for her?

My Hayley was a free spirit. Everywhere she went, people loved her. Something about her energy was magnetic; people around her couldn't help but be drawn to her light. I was more of a dark cloud, shielding her radiance from anyone who wanted to dampen it. My family referred to me as a "tough bitch", but at heart, I just wanted the same things that everyone else wants.

Love.

Acceptance.

A place to call home.

I had finally found that sense of home in Hayley. Somewhere along the way, I felt like I'd forgotten that.

My eyes stung with relentless tears—a weakness I'd only ever let her witness. In my family, it was considered shameful to show emotion. It just wasn't something we did. If I were ever to let my emotions show in front of my father, I would instantly lose his respect and with it, his love. At least, the closest thing to love my father was capable of.

I didn't even cry at mama's funeral. My father couldn't be bothered to attend, but my brothers were there. After losing my mom, they were the only family I had left. My two brothers were at the head of El Famiglia's dark, syndicate world. The older acted as my father's right-hand man, while Mateo took on the role of enforcer—"the muscle" as we called him. As for me, I just ran the money and made sure everybody was protected, just in case the Feds ever got the balls to come after us again. It hardly seemed likely, however, since I was a young girl the last time that had happened. When your name is Rossi, even the FBI hesitates to cross you. That was something I learned at an early age.

Hayley knew nothing of El Famiglia, or of the dangers that plagued my life 24/7. I desperately didn't want her to know. But I wasn't sure if I could survive the agony of walking away from her again. She was mine. My life. How could I even think about giving her up?

"Fuck!" The word was propelled from my throat with an intensity that burned like the harshest alcohol, numbing me all over. But my chest still burned with the need for her, the same way it did the night she'd let me into that sweet pussy of hers for the very first time.

I hadn't been the same since. No. I couldn't let her go. Not now. Not ever. If that meant risking the secret that my entire life was built upon, I would figure a way around it. But I couldn't lose her. I loved her.

For better or for fucking worse. Isn't that what they say? With those words resounding in my mind, I raced back to the building in a dead sprint, my fingers already itching to touch her again. If I had anything to do with it, she wouldn't be sleeping even a wink tonight.

The apartment was dark as I let myself back inside, hoping she would let me in without a fight. But if it came to that, I would have no problem fighting with her; for her.

She was mine. Completely and always mine. Whether that meant as my submissive or my wife, I'd be happy. Though I couldn't help but smile when I thought of putting a ring on her finger. Claiming her, for good. From then on, surely no woman would dare look her way if my ring were on her finger. Maybe I'd suggest she get my name inked there, too. Just for good measure.

"Hayley?" Her name spilled from my lips as I rounded the corner of the hallway, noticing the bathroom light was still on. Knowing how energy-conscious my girl was, I knew she wouldn't have left the light on once she was done with her bath.

Maybe she was still soaking in there, too lazy to get out quite yet. She loved her bubble baths. It was the reason I'd given her the gorgeous clawfoot tub for her last birthday. Knowing that she would use it every day if she could.

It was money well spent, for sure.

Once or twice, she'd even convinced me to have a soak with her, though I'd never been a bath kind of girl. Preferring to stay busy, a quick shower was all I ever really needed day by day. But there was no denying that my work could be stressful. That was an understatement. On those kinds of days, I found that a hot bath was perfect for helping me relax. Especially if the bombshell in the next room joined me.

The second I stepped inside her bathroom, however, my sultry recollections evaporated.

Fuck! Every thought besides her left my mind when my brain finally comprehended what I was seeing inside that bathroom. The sight of her petite frame curled into a ball on the floor was enough to break me as it was. But when my eyes fell upon the shining razor in one of her trembling hands and then the horrible contrast of blood dripping from her ivory skin, I saw red. Words left me. I knew I should have been angry. Maybe I should have been more gentle with her, given the delicate situation in which I'd suddenly found myself.

My knees knocked against the hard tile floor as I dropped beside her, searching frantically for a pulse on her wrist, my fingers drifting over the cuts on her inner arms as if I could have healed them somehow.

Why? I knew sometimes she felt broken. I knew she needed the pain, sometimes. But intentionally hurting herself, just to spite me? Why?

Because you walked away. As that answer raced through my head on a sickening loop, my chest filled with shards of glass, cutting deeper than any pain I had known before this moment. Because this was my fault. And somehow, I had to make it right.

If she gave me the chance.