Chapter Twenty-Four
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"Why aren't you dressed?"
These words were uttered by none other than Chloe as she stormed through my door the next night to find me sitting cross-legged in bed, perfectly content in pajamas with the newspaper's spreadsheet fanned out on the duvet before me.
"First off, how did you get into my house? Secondly, why would I be dressed? And, thirdly, what the hell are you doing here?" I muttered absent-mindedly. Due to Keeley being out sick for the week, I'd been tasked with looking after the newspaper, and all the unfortunate responsibilities that came along with it. Thankfully, it took my mind off anything else I might be tempted to think about.
"I've known where your spare key is for years," Chloe began, walking over to my dresser and tearing drawers open, throwing clothes around as she went. "Secondly, you should be dressed because, thirdly, we're going to the town meeting."
"I'm not going," I told her as a sweater landed on the bed next to me. "Careful, that's cashmere. Now, can you stop destroying my bedroom?"
"What do you mean you're not going?" Chloe asked, planting her hands on her hips. "We go every month. It's a tradition."
"Looks like we're going to have to break tradition this month, Chlo," I told her, gesturing to the papers before me. "I've got too much work to do."
She crossed her arms over her chest, and the fiery look in her eyes matched her hair. "Violet Rose, if you think I'm letting you sit for one more minute in this room moping you are very wrong. Now get up, brush your hair, get dressed and put on some lip-gloss. We are going out."
"So that we can sit in uncomfortable plastic chairs and listen to a bunch of people debate whether or not the trees in the park should be cut down for park benches?" I replied. "No, thank you. Keeley will kill me if I don't finish the newspaper."
"As your best friend, I mean this in the nicest way possible," Chloe said. "It's been over a week since you and Colton called it quits, and its time to get your ass up and stop playing the victim card. I gave you a week to wallow in heartbreak. Now it's time to move on."
I sighed and looked up at Chloe. "He might be there tonight."
"I hope he is," Chloe replied, throwing me a pair of jeans and indicating for me to put them in. Knowing I would not be able to escape her wrath if I resisted, I shrugged off my pajama pants and threw on the denim. "Then you'll see each other, there will be a moment of awkwardness, and you'll move on. Problem solved. You've been avoiding him for a week. It's time to get over it. Put the sweater on."
I threw on the pink sweater as Chloe grabbed my hairbrush and tossed it over to me. As I yanked it threw my hair, she grabbed my lip-gloss and began slicking it onto my lips.
Once she was done and had picked out a pair of shoes for me, she planted her hands on her hips and smiled happily. "There. Now you actually look like a functioning member of society. Let's go."
"But the newspaper—" I said.
She grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the door. "I'll help you fix it up tomorrow. Now, come on. We're going to be late."
The walk to the town hall was brisk, and I shivered in my sweater as I allowed Chloe to drag me towards the entrance. As we approached, I noticed more people pulling into the parking lot and filing into the hall.
"I don't wanna do this," I told Chloe as we neared the hall. "What if I see Sam? What if I see Colton?"
"Violet, you are a strong and independent woman," Chloe told me. "Now go in and show them that. Let's move, Vi."
Before I could protest, she had pushed me through the doors and was guiding me towards an uncomfortable seat. The meeting was minutes from starting, and we snagged a few seats up the back and settled in for the wait. Without meaning to, my eyes scanned the crowds for any familiar faces.
Thankfully I couldn't see Sam or Colton anywhere, so I breathed a sigh of relief and allowed myself to relax. Everything was going to be fine.
The meeting started the way it usually did, with the mayor declaring all of the achievements of Sterling since our last meeting and what plans were in place for the next month. While occasionally town meetings could get exciting—for instance, when arguments broke out over the position of a park bench in the local park—normally things were pretty boring and straightforward. They were achingly normal compared to the craziness everyday life had become.
Until it wasn't anymore.
It happened about halfway through the meeting, just as I was about to sink further into my chair and pull out a book. They were between topics, having just agreed to sign an affidavit for something I had no particular interest in—when he came literally swooping in from nowhere.
A gasp rippled through the crowd as the black-clad figure appeared at the front of the town hall—tall and intimidating and so familiar it made my heart seize in my chest.
He landed at the front of the stage, facing a crowd of bewildered and equally terrified Sterling residents. Glued to their seats, they stared at him with wide eyes and slack jaws.
"Holy crap," Chloe whispered, grabbing onto my arm. "Is that—that's—"
"That's him," I whispered, tightening my hands around the edges of my chair. "That's The Black Phoenix."
He held his gloved hands up and stood stoically at the front of the room. "Please don't be afraid of me. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here because I think it's time we finally talked."
His rough voice echoed through the hall, and he was met with hundreds of staring faces who could not believe that the masked man that had been splashed on the front of newspapers was standing in front of them.
"I've been trying to protect your town for six months now," he began, and I felt my chest constrict at his familiar voice and the pure earnestness of his words. "I've been met with some challenges, but there have also been some incredible points. And I'm not here to ask for fame or glory or forgiveness or trust, I'm here because it's not fair I've been hiding behind some kind of mask. My secret made me lose the girl I love, and I'm tired of sacrificing what I want. So I'm laying my secrets out before you today. And maybe I'll regret this, but I'll never regret it as much as I'll always regret letting go of the only thing that mattered to me."
And despite his mask covering his eyes, I could swear he was looking at me in that moment. I felt like I couldn't even breathe.
He stepped forward to the edge of the stage, and it was so quiet I swear a pin could've dropped and everyone would've heard it clearly.
He reached up, and I felt my whole body go rigid as he ripped off the mask. A tousle of black hair fell over tanned features, and icy-blue eyes looked out at the crowd.
Chloe grabbed onto my arm so fiercely that her nails created crevices in my skin. "Colton?" she whispered disbelievingly, her voice choked.
My free hand went up and pressed to my mouth, and I felt my eyes well with tears. What was he doing? He'd fought so hard to hide his true identity, and now he was revealing it to the people who made him out to be a menace.
"My name is Colton Cross, and I'm the Black Phoenix," he whispered, looking right at me. "V, I'm so sorry for what I did. No more secrets. No more lies. I'm in love with you, and I want you more than these powers or this costume or this mask. I'm sorry I let it blind me. If you forgive me, leave your window open tonight. I'll be there for you."
The hall erupted into chaos as he was gone in a flash, so fast that no one knew where he had come from or where he had exited. A few people turned to look at me, while most rioted and shouted questions and exclamations. A few recognized Colton, but most did not.
Unable to handle the cacophony of noises echoing around the hall, I stood up and ran for the back exit, needing brisk air to clear my mind. I emerged into the starry night, breathing heavily and clutching my chest, which ached with panic and longing and hurt. I couldn't believe he'd revealed his identity to the world. What was he thinking? Everyone knew who he was now.
"Violet?" It was Chloe, tumbling after me into the dim night.
"Not right now, Chlo," I replied in a constricted voice, knowing if I were forced into a conversation, I'd cry.
"Vi, what the hell just happened?" Chloe asked. I'd never seen her like this—Chloe was always perfect and composed, without a hair out of place. But now her green eyes were wild, and her mouth kept opening and closing as if she had no idea what to say. "Is Colton...? Did you know...?"
My lips trembled, and my throat felt like a wad of cotton had been shoved into it. I nodded mutely, confirming her questions.
Her pale hand flew to her red lips, and she stared at me. "My God, Violet... Why didn't you tell me?"
"He asked me not to," I told her, my voice cracking. "I wanted to protect him... I wanted to—"
She walked over to me and wrapped her lean arms around me, pulling me into a tight and comforting hug. "Vi, it's okay," Chloe whispered. "Everything's going to be all right."
"No, it's not," I whispered, pulling back to look at her. "Everyone knows who he is. Nathaniel will know who he is within minutes. Why the hell did he do this?"
"Because he loves you," Chloe replied.
"He's an idiot," I informed her, crossing my arms over my chest.
"An idiot with good taste," she told me gently. "Look, maybe this wasn't the smartest move, but we'll figure something out, I promise. Even if we have to escape to Barcelona and live the rest of our days enjoying fiestas and running with the bulls. We're in this together. We'll get through this."
"I have to get home," I told her. "I have to talk to him."
"I'll come with you," she told me resolutely.
I shook my head and stepped back. "No. Thank you, Chlo, for everything. But I just need some time to process what the hell just happened."
She nodded in understanding. "Okay. Call me as soon as you get home. I promise it's going to be okay, Vi."
I nodded and thanked her, before turning off and heading blindly in the direction of my house. My mind spun with the memories of him standing in front of the crowd revealing his true identity—the somber look of his features, the honesty in his eyes, and the love in his gaze when he looked over at me. It took my breath away all over again.
On the walk home, I tried to think of some positives. As a journalist, you were always supposed to find a positive spin to the situation—a good way to put a story. But I couldn't think of one. What would everyone say when they found out who he was? Would he be arrested? And, since it was obvious I'd known his identity, would I be arrested for aiding and abetting a criminal? I still couldn't figure out what he'd been thinking when he did it. Colton wasn't stupid. He always had a plan, and he never did anything recklessly. Maybe he was three steps ahead and was just waiting to tell me. With that in mind, I hurried home.
I was so caught up in my own thoughts, I didn't hear the squeal of tires or smell burning rubber on tarmac. It wasn't until an arm wrapped around my waist and I was pulled into a strong chest that I knew I was in trouble.
A rag covered my nose and mouth, and I gagged at the ether smell. I reached up and clawed at the strong arm holding the pungent handkerchief to my face, but they were too strong. My feet scrabbled for purchase on the pavement as my head became dizzy, and my eyes began to slide closed.
I collapsed, and the last thing I was aware of before I drifted into unconsciousness was being dragged over to a heavy white van, and the sound of the door closing that sealed off my future.
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