“It’s okay, Charli,” I say, swallowing the pain. I set the mug down untouched. “If I’m not going to get any help, that’s fine. You followed me to Chloe’s. Remember that, Phantom. And it was you who insisted we come here.” My voice cracks, but I push through. “It’s time for me to leave. Charli, can I bother you for a ride to?—”
“To where?” Phantom cuts in, eyes flashing. He looks pointedly at Kaylee asleep on the couch. “Did you forget your father is looking for you and our daughter right this minute?”
“My brother is out there,” I fire back. “And I have to find a way to help him. You’re not the only ones with guns I know. I’ll just?—”
Arabella steps in before the words can turn into something uglier.
Jinx looks like she might actually shove her gingerbread cookie into Phantom’s mouth to make him shut up.
Arabella’s smile is calm, measured. “You are welcome to stay here while you figure out your next move. Reaper will know what to do, too. Everyone just needs to calm down for a minute and think.”
“You’re right,” I whisper, the fight draining out of me in one heavy rush. “Damn. I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“You’re worried,” Storm offers from across the room. “You all just need to take a minute. Go find a place you can talk amongst yourselves and find your level ground again. It’s a lot all at once.”
He’s right.
I hate that he’s right.
“I wish I could,” I admit, voice thin. “I have no right to ask any of you to help, but Micah is stuck with the Vultures with no one to trust. I can’t exactly blaze my way through my father’s men and pull him out.” I swallow hard. “I don’t know what happened after I booked it out of there, but I know nothing good is happening after we all kicked the ant’s nest and then you guys took that book.”
Phantom’s expression doesn’t change when he says it.
“We planted explosives and took out the shipment.”
My eyes widen.
Because that means the night wasn’t just chaos and running and gunfire.
It was a statement and one helluva war move that my father will not stand for.
This is bad. Very bad.
Reaper’s gaze flicks between me and Phantom, and I can see him about to step in, about to take control of the conversation the way presidents do when the room starts to tilt.
But Phantom lifts his hand, stopping him.
Reaper’s eyes narrow, but he lets Phantom say his piece.
His attention falls to the silver chain around my neck like it has done several times this evening. He slowly drags those pretty grays to meet my eyes and when he does, I’m lost in the power for several heartbeats. I can’t help myself.
“Everly, baby. You want our help with your brother,” Phantom says, voice steady, “all I want is for you and me to have a conversation first.”
My heart stutters.
If he gets me alone in a room, all the fight in me will drop away and I’ll give in to anything he asks of me.
I stare at the man who owns my heart, trying to read what’s underneath the words. Trying not to think about the way he carried Kaylee like she belonged in his arms. Trying not to think about the way my body still remembers his.
“I answer your questions,” I say carefully, “and you will help my brother?”
Phantom’s gaze holds mine. “Something like that.”
The fear in my chest doesn’t vanish, but it shifts. It becomes sharper. More focused.
Because an ultimatum from Phantom is something I can work with.
I glance at Kaylee, warm and safe under his blanket, her little fist curled near her chin.
