Phantom stared at the screen.

It's already too late.

Too late for what?

Had he already received information? Had the police found her?

No, the words felt more final than that. More defeated. Slowly, he moved his fingers over the keys. Is she dead? His gaze lingered on the send button. Pressing it felt like an unbearable task.

He deleted the text and typed instead: What do you mean?

A link was sent in response. The caption sent a chill down Phantom's spine: NO WORDS. ACTIONS.

It didn't say she was dead.

Maybe she was... just seriously injured.

Still, it felt cruel that Nathan had sent him a link instead of telling him more. Maybe the guy thought he deserved this. That he was to blame for Lola's death. That they were both to blame.

We are. If he hadn't drunk so much, hadn't been such a horny asshole, she wouldn't have fled the party. He owed it to Lola to face the truth. 

He clicked play.

A dimly lit space appeared on screen. Small. He figured it was the back of a van. Pain shot through his chest when he saw her huddled in the corner. Her wrists were bound, tape across her mouth. Tears had glued her hair to her cheeks.

Someone in a balaclava stepped into frame.

"Do you recognize this woman?" a distorted female voice asked. "This is Lola Swinton. Daughter of Walter Swinton—the man who so desperately wants to become a senator. A so-called advocate for human rights. For men. For women. For the elderly. And for the unborn. He fights fiercely against abortion. 'Anyone who dares to kill a child doesn't deserve to live'—those were his words two years ago."

Phantom's mouth went dry like sandpaper.

Where was this going? He couldn't make sense of it.

"What Walter hasn't told you," the voice continued, "is that his own daughter had an abortion. Three years ago." 

A document was held up to the camera. Phantom couldn't read the words. Didn't want to.

"And did he follow through on his own words? No. His daughter is still alive. Living her life while she denied that right to another. That's how much his word is worth." There was a snort of disgust. "We don't need politicians whose words are empty."

The camera turned back to Lola. On the right side of the screen, something dark edged into view. A gun.

And then came the second deafening crack.

A bullet pierced directly into Lola's forehead.

She slumped forward.

"No words, but actions!" voices chanted in the background. It started with one, then more joined in.

Then the screen went black.

It was like Phantom's body forgot how to function. He just sat there, staring at the screen.
Even when it was dark.

Somewhere, Esai's voice buzzed. Maybe he was shouting. Then tears slipped down Phantom's cheeks. He couldn't unsee her face. The fear in her wide eyes. Her pale skin. The perfectly round bullet hole.

The car jolted as Esai drove over a bump. The corpse beside him knocked against his leg. Another perfect, round hole. One shot, and a life was gone.

Lola was dead. 

She'd been right. Death had been chasing her for months—not in the form of shadows, but in the form of her own father.

He'd turn himself into a martyr now. Pretend to be broken. Talking about the daughter he often disagreed with but never wanted to lose.

That filthy bastard.

Phantom's hand clenched around the device. His jaw locked tight. There's no way you're getting away with this.

Esai had pulled the car onto a deserted forest road. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around. He didn't speak. No sarcastic remark, no words of comfort. Just silence.

"We need to get rid of the body," Phantom growled. "What, you planning to just bury it here? I also need my laptop, so I can wipe your name as the registered owner of this car. In case anyone saw the plates. Either way, we have to ditch it."

Esai just kept staring at him.

"What?" Phantom snapped.

He shrugged. "I thought you'd fall apart."

"And how the fuck would that help?"

"It wouldn't," Esai admitted. "But fuck—your girlfriend was just shot, man."

"Yeah. And that bastard's going to pay for it. He'll wish he was never born."

That was all he could do.

Cling to hate. To rage. To revenge.

Because beneath all that, there was a gaping void ready to swallow him whole, and he wasn't about to fall in again.

After his brother died, and he lost his best friend, he was wrecked.

He breathed, but he didn't live. He'd stare blankly for hours, refused to eat or drink.
Because what was the point?

There was no one. No fucking one.

But he'd made it through. Somehow. He didn't know how or why. His body just refused to die—stubborn like a weed.

He didn't want to become a zombie again. Not until Lola had justice. Justice Travis never got.

He noticed Esai was still watching him. Phantom stared back, defiant. He wasn't going to be intimidated by this asshole anymore. Though, he had to admit, there was no mockery in that look. Almost... concern. As if the guy actually gave a damn.

"I still don't get why you're here," Phantom muttered.

Esai let out a dry laugh. Maybe with a touch of shame. "I didn't trust you. Thought you were working against the club. You're so closed off, so secretive—I couldn't even find your real name. Figured you were tied to some rival gang or something."

"I was in another gang. I left that behind. That's why I made sure no one can trace anything back to me."

"I was wrong."

For Esai, admitting that was probably like coming out of the closet. That was as close to an apology as it would ever get. Not that Phantom cared. Right now, he couldn't give less of a shit whether Esai regretted his attitude.

Still, without Esai, he wouldn't know the truth. He wouldn't know Lola's ex was involved. That it wasn't some deranged anti-abortion group pulling the strings—but her own father.

"We have to get rid of the body," Phantom said again. "And I need my laptop."

"You think they'll suspect you?"

Shit. He hadn't even thought of that. It'd be easy to pin it on him. A criminal, handing over a girl for money—he hadn't been in the room when it happened. Phantom rubbed his face. "Shit. Maybe."

Esai was his only alibi. And here they were, in a car, with a corpse.

Could he erase the evidence? Lola had booked the hotel under her name. Her brother was the only one who knew him. But he'd kept his kutte on. Plenty of witnesses could identify his club.
They'd find him eventually. He looked down at Brandon's body. "You shouldn't have shot him. He could've testified against her father."

"Then you shouldn't have let go of your fucking knife, idiot."

Touché. Phantom sighed. "Fuck, I don't know what the hell we're supposed to do."

Esai clicked his tongue, thinking. "It'll be suspicious if you don't come back. Say she ran off after a fight. You went to look for her. You saw her being shoved into a van and called her brother. You just got word, so you came back. It's not that much time."

"And if someone saw me dragging that guy into the car? There were people around. Maybe even filmed it."

"It was dark. They were far away."

Phantom ran a hand through his hair. That was no guarantee. But he had no better plan. He couldn't just disappear. "Okay. I'll go back to the hotel." He glanced down. "But I need to wear your clothes and clean up."

Esai nodded and gave the body one last thoughtful look. "We dump this first. Then I'll take you back—say I was nearby and offered to help you look. You just play the heartbroken boyfriend, crushed because his girlfriend is dead. Even though you did fuck her brother. I wouldn't leave that part out once they start questioning you. Meanwhile, I'll drive back, get rid of the body and the car. And you make sure it's no longer registered in my name."

Phantom let out a heavy sigh. His shoulders slumped. He was in for a rough couple of days.
And all the while, that bastard could play the grieving father, winning people over with his "terrible loss," and no one would suspect a thing.

Because the only witness they knew about was lying dead beside him.

But he's not escaping what's coming. You are going to make sure of that.
His gaze flicked briefly to Esai. You both are going to make sure of that.

He'd never thought he'd trust Esai with something like this, but despite everything that had gone down between them, he believed now that the man had his back.

That they were brothers.