The Painted Phoenix by Sarah Kay Moll

Author:Sarah Kay Moll [Moll, Sarah Kay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: NineStar Press, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, literary/genre fiction, criminals, crime syndicate, graphic violence, children, family drama, domestic violence, pansexual, polyamorous, open relationship, mental illness, artist, lawyer, tattoos, dark, depression, PTSD, HEA
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2020-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Sierra Among Gifts. 2005

Pastel on paper

On Christmas morning, Nate wakes in the darkness to the buzzing of his phone. It vibrates three separate times before he finally rolls over and reaches for it.

Ras: can I come in?

Ras: I’m coming in

Ras: get up I’m making you coffee

Nate sits up, noting the bar of light beneath the door. He glances at the clock. Five fucking thirty. Ever since he let Ras back into his life it’s been like this, extravagant displays of devotion that leave him helpless.

“You’re fucking insane,” he calls through the door.

“I know,” Ras says on the other side. “Can I come in? I made coffee.”

“Yeah.” Nate runs his hand through his messy hair. “I guess. Better be really fucking good coffee.”

The door opens, and Ras steps in with a smile warm enough to make Nate ignore the fact that he just let himself into Nate’s apartment in the wee hours of Christmas morning to wake Nate up.

“This is not morning,” Nate grumbles.

“There are lots of little kids who are getting up right now to see what Santa brought,” Ras says, grinning. “Aren’t you curious what you got?”

Nate rolls his eyes, to hide the ache in his heart, never healed. “Santa never brought me shit. Not even when I was a little kid.”

“Never?”

Out of all the terrible things Nate has let slip about his childhood, this one seems to shock Ras the most.

“Santa only comes for good kids,” Nate explains.

“Not true. Santa came for me every year. And I was a terrible child. I used to get in fights at school, steal, sell drugs, set fires…” Ras has a nostalgic smile, like those are happy memories. “All that and I still got a pony when I was ten years old.”

Nate laughs. “The rules don’t apply to you.”

“No. I suppose not.” Ras hands him a mug of coffee. “Merry Christmas, love.”

Nate bows his head to hide his big, goofy smile. “Yeah. Merry Christmas.”

“Do you want to know what I bought you?” Ras is way too bright and eager for five thirty in the morning, acting like a child about to receive a gift rather than an adult about to give one. “Well?”

Nate sips his coffee. “I guess.” He pretends reluctance to tease Ras and draw the moment out. No one has ever been so excited to give him a gift before.

“I got you”—Ras spreads his arms extravagantly—“a house. It’s a cozy three bedroom in a suburb in River’s Heart, across the street from a park with a little playground, in a very good school district.”

Nate blinks at him, confused. It’s too early in the morning, and he’s really not sure what he would do with a house like that, or why the school district would matter.

“It’s for your daughter. She and her mother have already moved in. If you like, we can go see them. Sierra is probably just about to wake up and go to see what Santa brought.”

“Ras,” Nate murmurs, his voice trembling. “This is too much, this is—”

“Nothing is too much for you,” Ras says.

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