My trainer told me that I would get a new identity. A new name. The moment I joined, Miles would be dead. Gone from this earth. I would be reborn as a killer, and a killer needed an appropriate name.

Phoenix, I’d decided. Like the hero from my past.

I would be own my hero now.

Momentarily distracted, my opponent smacks me in the face, causing me to drop down on my back.

“Phoenix, get your ass back up!” my trainer yells. “Stop letting yourself get distracted. Focus!”

I nod, jumping back up on my feet again, ready for the next attack.

I’ve been training for the past few months. Nonstop, ever since I met him. My trainer is harsh and so is the organization. Everyone is ruthless here, just like me. After training here for so much time, I finally realize why he chose me that day on the streets. It wasn’t because I was strong or fast, even though I am. It was because of my attitude. My relentless pursuit of justice. My justice. I would achieve anything in whatever way necessary … and all of the people here would do the same.

We are killers.

They’re born and bred to fight, to escape the law, to hunt for their prey. They murder the guilty but don’t always spare the innocent. They fight for two things—money and power. And now that I’ve seen them in action, I realize that there are a lot of people who would do anything to attain either of those two. The only thing being is that they hire us to do their dirty work for them.

So essentially, they’re not the ones with money and power; we are.

I dropkick my opponent to the other side of the mat, making him touch the ground.

My trainer blows his whistle and shouts, “Well done, Phoenix.”

I get up off the floor, wiping the sweat from my forehead, and shake my opponent’s hand. He’s a lot tougher than I am, and yet I still managed to beat him. He grins and winks at me, “Good match, Nix.”

“Thanks, DeLuca.”

It’s the first time I managed to beat his ass. He’s a lot bigger and stronger than the others are, but I guess that’s why my trainer wanted me to fight him. He’s been handing me tasks he doesn’t want anyone else to do, like point-blank shooting a guy in the face, even though I knew nothing about his background.

It didn’t matter to me. I didn’t care. And the more I fight and kill, the less I feel.

My emotions have been waning ever since I lost her, the girl I believed was mine. Now all I dream about is making her and her new family pay.

I will show them all what real power is. The one you can’t buy. It’s unattainable without losing a piece of your soul, and I’ll gladly barter with the devil.

I can do anything I set my mind to, whether it’s training, fighting, or killing. Day in and day out, I set a goal, and I don’t look back. The past is behind me; this is who I am now. Phoenix; the guy who doesn’t give a damn.

My trainer just wants to see how far I’ll go to win.

How far I’ll go for justice.

Just like that one day, when he stopped to talk to me from his car after I fought my own damn friends. He saw something in me that day. Something I didn’t even know I had inside me, until now.

Let’s just say I’ll do pretty much anything to get my way.

Including murdering anyone who comes into sight. No questions asked.

***

Present

Abruptly, I’m pulled in and out of memories of my past, and how I murdered people with my own bare hands. Cutting this man’s fingers off reminds me of what a filthy, cold-hearted bastard I’ve become. I really don’t give a fuck about him; all I can think about is hurting him as much as possible.

This is what’s become of me. After years of training and fighting, learning only how to kill for a living, I’ve stopped caring about anyone in the world.

Except her.

That woman standing in the corner, naked and shivering. Once she was a girl I loved deeply … now all that’s left is hatred.

And still her voice … it calls to me.

It soothes me.

I swear I can hear her whisper my name, begging me to stop.

Begging me to return to her, exactly the way I was.

Before our world turned into a living hell.

***

VANESSA

“Drop it,” the new guy says to Phoenix. “I said drop it! Drop the fucking knife, Phoenix!”

Phoenix is breathing heavily, his shoulders rising each time he pants like a bear filled with primal rage.

The knife slowly slips from his blood-soaked hands, until it clatters on the floor, shattering every belief I had about myself. I just witnessed a man torture another … and it was so, so good it gives me the chills.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Phoenix repeats.

The guy grabs his shoulder and pulls him back. “Think about her.”

This seems to shake Phoenix, as he turns his head toward me and really looks at me for the first time since the attack. His eyes turn from murderous frenzy into bitter anguish. It breaks my heart in two.

“Focus on her,” the guy next to him says.

Phoenix takes a step toward me, his hands shaking. When he gazes down at them, he frowns, licking his lips, unable to take a step further.

I can see the scornful look on his face, so full of loathing, but it’s not aimed at me. His hand goes to his own heart and he makes a fist on his chest, almost as if he’s willing to crush his own heart.

Slowly, I crawl up from the floor and walk toward him while the new guy tends to the one who tried to assault me. I don’t give a damn that he’s here, that I’m naked, and that there’s blood everywhere.

The only thing I can do right now is wrap my arms around Phoenix and hug him tight.

For a moment, I just stand there, feeling his warmth envelop me, burying my body in his nook, wishing for this all to disappear. The look on his face scared me, but not like it used to. I used to fear the madness in his eyes. Now I fear the disgust he exudes just by looking at his own hands.

He can hate me. He can hate the world. But I don’t want him to hate himself.

“I’ll kill him,” he whispers, his head slowly turning toward the body of the man.

I look up, grab his chin, and force him to look at me. “I’m here. I’m okay. I’m alive.”

He breathes in and out for a few seconds, staring at me as if he sees a ghost. Looking into his eyes is like seeing the world unravel before you. I see him; for the first time, I really see him for who he truly is. A man—vulnerable, loving, emotional, hurt. I hurt him, and he hurts me.

I love him, and he loves me.

And then he wraps his arms around me so tight that I’m squashed by his strong muscles.

I don’t mind. I actually need this, and in his arms, I feel a sliver of safety filling my heart. Just a little bit, but it’s enough to water my eyes.

“Dammit,” the guy suddenly says.

I blink away the tears. We both look at him and the dude lying on the floor, lifeless.

“Too late,” he says, looking at Phoenix.

Phoenix’s lip twitches. “Well, that’s just too damn fucking bad.”

“You killed him, Nix.”

“He fucking deserved it!” He takes his arms off me and leaves me naked again. I quickly grab the nearest curtain and tear it off, wrapping it around my body, even though it’s not much. Phoenix walks back to the corpse as the other dude gets up to face off with him. “He tried to fuck with her, so he got fucked by me.”

“You know this won’t end well,” the dude says.

“Like I give a fuck. I have good grounds. The guy tried to steal something that belonged to me. I had a right to take his life when he tried to pull that shit.”

The guy frowns. “Look, you don’t understand. He wasn’t just here to camp out with you.”

Phoenix leans back. “What?” He cocks his head. “Are you saying he was here for a reason? You know something, don’t you?” Phoenix growls.

The guy holds up his hands. “You know I can’t do anything about the rules, dude. It was just a job.”