branded (phantoms mc #2)

sixteen: in which she gives the wrong pep talk

"You had this picture of me, and now I have shattered your dreams" -Paloma Faith, Guilty

********************************

"Girl Scouts? Girl Scouts?" I snarled, shoving him. He barely moved.

"Is that what you're gonna fixate on? Jesus, P! I thought you were smarter than this."

"Do not patronize me and give me a lecture at the same time." I shoved him again. "I had nothing to do with Tyson's murder, but he was a piece of shit who deserved it, so I guess I'm guilty of not feeling too bad about it."

"The Cursed have the mayor in their back pocket, and one of your girls took one of them out. You think they won't figure that out?"

My anger was slowly evaporating and turning into curiosity. "How did you figure it out?"

"Sit down for a second, okay?" Ghost gestured at his bed.

I wrinkled my nose. "I am not getting comfy on the bed where you just screwed another girl! I'm fine standing."

"Who said..." Ghost's voice trailed off. "You know what? Never mind. Stevie helped me figure it out, as you so nicely put it."

I couldn't even be mad at her. Clearly, this had been weighing heavily on Stevie's mind. What did I expect? Ghost was a stable rock and almost all of us Girl Scouts had gone to him for help at some point. Stevie might've betrayed my trust, but she'd definitely done it out of fear. I didn't blame her.

"All I want," Ghost continued, "is for you to be safe. For you all to be safe. I was shit-scared of you going on some vigilante crusade thousands of miles away, but now, you're doing it on our fucking doorstep. Do you have some kind of death wish?"

"Vigilante crusade," I repeated. "That's what you thought I was doing when I was looking for my sister? You think I wanted to do all that shit? I had to. You saw my sister when we found her. My crusade was to bring her home, and I did that. I have zero fucking regrets."

"Pussy—"

"No. Let me finish, Ghost," I interjected. I didn't want to forget what I'd even wanted to say. "I don't need you constantly looking over my shoulder. We're not fucking anymore. You don't have to care about me. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself. Are we clear?"

"You done now?"

"I would like to go home," I mumbled.

Ghost let out a sigh. "Sure. Let me grab my keys."

"I'll be outside."

I didn't wait for him to say anything. I breathed a sigh of relief once I was out of his bedroom and out from under his steely gaze. When Ghost got all self-righteous like this, I ended up feeling like a petulant child in the principal's office, and it wasn't a cute, sexual role-playing game.

"You're leaving?" Ripper materialized out of nowhere.

"Yeah. Not really feeling it tonight," I told him.

He looked at me for a second, as if trying to see if I was okay, before pulling me into a tight hug, kissing the top of my head. "I really fucking wish you two would stop the damn games," he muttered, letting me go.

"It was never a game," I said, but he didn't hear me. Couldn't. Raucous laughter had erupted from around us because a prospect had just drunkenly tripped over his own feet.

Ghost grabbed my arm and pulled me away. I tried, unsuccessfully, to shrug him off.

"Will you fucking stop that?" I said once we were outside in the black of the night.

He released me, unlocking his truck. "You said you'd be outside. Was that outside?"

"So I can't stop and talk to a friend?"

He got into the truck. "Pussy, just get the fuck in."

I was quickly starting to sober up. "Don't talk to me like that. I'm not your kid sister."

"Oh, I agree," Ghost muttered, leaning across the passenger seat and opening the door for me. "Daisy actually listens."

"Fuck you," I told him, but I hopped inside.

"You're too damn reckless, P," Ghost said after a long silence had stretched between us on the road.

I wanted to whack him over the side of the head. "Reckless?" I echoed, glaring at him. "In what way? Because I'd do anything for my sisters? Just like how you'd do the same for your brothers. Of course, when it's me, I'm reckless."

"You act first and think later." Ghost's voice was calm. "There's no fucking method to your madness. Just madness."

I didn't know what came over me in that moment, but I slugged him. Right on the side of his head, catching his cheekbone. The car swerved slightly, but Ghost quickly controlled it, pulling over onto the side of the road.

"What the fuck, Catalina?" he snarled, pressing his fingertips to his shadowed cheek. "What the fuck?"

"I'm walking home, and you can fuck right off, Ghost," I spat at him. He was livid. I could see it on his face and feel it vibrating off of him. "You're a self-righteous hypocrite. Fuck you."

I shoved the door open and got out, slamming it behind me. Ghost didn't protest. Instead, he drove behind me at a snail's pace, his headlights illuminating my path.

***

I overslept and missed the start of my shift at The Wreck the next day. But that was okay, because I was pretty sure punching the boss in the face gave me automatic leave.

I knocked on Camila's door, peeking in to find her still asleep, cuddling with Leo. It looked like I wasn't the only one taking an extended afternoon nap.

"Are you hungover?"

I jumped at Eve's voice. "Jesus. I think you should start wearing a bell around your neck."

"Oh, very funny," she said dryly, waiting for me to follow her to the kitchen. "Stevie came by earlier. She said I should tell you that she's sorry. What happened?"

I sat down on one stool, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee Eve held out to me. "Eve, seeing Tyson's body traumatized Stevie. She's a mess, and she's scared. You know Tyson was a patched Cursed member, right?"

"Stop talking, P."

"No, Eve," I said, frustrated. "When are you going to face the reality of this situation?"

"When it stops hurting so much!" she snapped at me, slamming her hands on the kitchen island between us. Her eyes were glassy. "What is so wrong with me, P? Why can't men love me properly? Why do they always have to end up hurting me?"

"Sweetheart, there is nothing fucking wrong with you." I got to my feet and rounded the island, putting my arms around her. "Some people are just fucking evil, and that's not your fault." I pulled back and looked into her eyes. "But you killed someone, Eve, and that shit doesn't just go away. It'll always be in you. You can't ignore it, or pretend it never happened. Self-defense or not, a man is dead, and you're responsible. You need to accept that, babe."

She dragged her eyes from mine. "I know I did it, P. I wish I hadn't, but I did it, and I feel awful about it." She paused, her eyes meeting mine again. "I might still have the scars he gave me, but at least I'm still alive, right? He's...dead."

"Eve, I love you, okay?" I squeezed her hands in mine. "We're going to get through this. Whatever happens, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Okay?"

"No, P. You're right. I killed someone," she said quietly. "I have to make it right."

"Yes. By moving forward with your life."

"No, P," said Eve, shaking her head at me. "I have to turn myself in."