Free Believe: (Intermix) (True Believers) by Erin McCarthy Page A

really was that simple and uncomplicated, and it felt relaxing, safe.
    How ironic that I felt safe with someone who had just gotten out of jail. That probably made me stupid, but I just felt good. Normal.
    I was sketching a bird. It just seemed like the imagery was stuck in my head after our conversation. I didn’t want to draw a phoenix, that was too literal. And drawing a robin would be just conceited or something. So I drew a simple sparrow, pulling up some images on my phone to see what they looked like. I felt more sparrow than robin anyway. Robins were showy. That wasn’t me anymore.
    After a while, Phoenix started to sketch, too, and I was curious what he was drawing. I admit to being a total girl and wanted him to be sketching me in a perfect ending to a perfect day. But when he showed it to me, it was a cobra, spreading its hood, looking super pissed off.
    Okay, so he wasn’t waxing poetic about my lips or whatever in charcoal.
    It was still an awesome day.
    Until Phoenix ran into a guy he’d known in prison.
    We were cleaning up our wrappers and empty water bottles, and Phoenix had just tossed them in the nearest garbage can when a guy yelled, “Hey, brother, what’s up?” and clamped Phoenix on the back.
    He was a big guy, covered in tattoos, including on his face and shaved head, and while his smile looked friendly enough, I saw that Phoenix tensed immediately. “Davis,” Phoenix said, shaking his hand. “Good to see you, man.”
    “Yeah, yeah, you too. When did you get out?”
    “Tuesday.”
    Davis’s eyes shifted over to me, and he gave a low whistle of appreciation that had me fighting the urge to cover a chest that wasn’t even remotely exposed in my dress. “This your girl? Angel? As pretty as her name.”
    Nothing like hearing he had talked about his ex in jail to ruin whatever fantasy I had started spinning in my head. Or hearing that he’d been in jail, because I had almost convinced myself that hadn’t happened. Or if it had, he had a good reason. Which I didn’t really know.
    “This is just a friend,” Phoenix said, but he shifted his body so that he was more firmly between me and Davis.
    Davis caught the message. He shook his head slowly. “Don’t be like that, Sullivan. You still owe me.”
    “Yeah, I do.” Phoenix nodded in agreement, but his entire posture had changed. He was leaning forward in aggression, clearly to show he wasn’t afraid. Davis was twice his width, but Phoenix didn’t look scared. “But that doesn’t mean you can look at her.”
    Before I could even react, Davis’s fist came out to grab the front of Phoenix’s shirt, but he anticipated the move, so he did the same. They were both holding with a tight grip, faces inches away from each other. I was so shocked I jumped, but didn’t make any sound. I couldn’t. My throat felt closed with fear. For a second I thought they were going to head butt each other and go down in a flurry of fists.
    Then Davis laughed. “Crazy-ass punk.” He let go of Phoenix. “That’s what I like about you, man.”
    Phoenix relaxed a little, and let go of Davis in return. “Sorry, bro, didn’t mean to overreact.”
    “No worries. I’m not planning to take what you owe me out of your girl’s ass. That ain’t my style.”
    Oh my God. That did not sound like anything I ever wanted to hear. I made a strangled noise like a dying rabbit.
    “Shit, I scared her, didn’t I?” Davis asked Phoenix. “Sorry.” He held his hands up toward me. “Don’t worry, Angel, I actually like your pretty boy here. It’s all good.”
    I nodded, too terrified to speak. My palms and pits were sweating with stress, and I felt about the furthest thing from badass to ever exist.
    “You do have a way with the ladies, Davis,” Phoenix said, rolling his eyes. He reached out and took my sweaty hand, squeezing it for reassurance.
    “Fuck you,” Davis said, but he didn’t look offended. “But you know I like me a big girl, one who can handle