Page 17 of The Reaper's Vice

“Listen to your mother, Sloane.” Ghost walks over and hauls her into his arms. He places a kiss on her unruly black hair, whispering something to her that sounds a lot like “I’ll fill you in later, babygirl. But only if you’re good to your mom.”

He places her back on the ground as Brett gives me an apologetic smile. She walks over and takes Sloane’s hand, kissing her husband lightly on the cheek. “I’m gonna go read with her for a bit. You go talk—I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on.” There’s a loving warmth in her gaze as she looks at Ghost.Happy. Fulfilled.

Jealousy roils in my stomach, though it has nothing to do with her or them. It's thatthingthey have. That unending, unequivocal, magical kind of bond. Though I would never dream of voicing it, I’ve always longed for something like that of my own.

Ghost watches them until they disappear into the bedroom, then he just stares at the closed door for a few moments. Wordlessly, he nods his chin at me, then takes off down the hall.

I follow him into his office, the golden-eyed girl’s shot glass heavy in my pocket. The door slides shut behind us, and he turns his violet eyes onto me with a question bursting forth. Before he has time to ask, I grab the shot glass from my pocket and toss it to him. He looks down at the faint red lipstick print on the rim, his brow furrowing.

“What is this?”

“I need you to help me find someone.” I lean my shoulder casually against the wall. “Figured that might help.”

Ghost sighs, placing the glass gingerly on top of his black oak desk, refusing to look at me. “Why?”

The question takes me aback for a long moment, and I find at the end, I don’t have an answer for him. “I just need to find them. I have to?—-”

“No,” he interjects, finally turning his gaze onto me. “Whyshould I help you?Why,after all this time, when you still refuse to explain yourself?”

I don’t understand the look on his face as he speaks, but the more he goes on, I begin to realize. He’shurt—I hurt Ghost. The thought is so preposterous, so unbelievable.

Yet, it’s clear as day.

“Is it true?” His violet eyes pierce me from across the room. “Did you really kill that little girl?”

A humorless laugh falls from my lips. “You really need to ask me that?”

“Brett doesn’t think so. She never did. Not for a moment.” His lips press into a thin line. “You broke her heart. You know that, right?”

I nod, suddenly at a loss for words. WhatcouldI say to that? “Ghost, I’m sorry?—”

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” He runs a hand across a face much too tired for his years. “I know you didn’t do it. But you let them imprison you. It was senseless, needless self-sacrifice. And for that, I admit I was… I was angry with you. Angry you wouldn’t let us help you. Angry you cut all ties with Brett and me… and Sloane.” His voice cracks at the mention of his daughter. “She was robbed of the best uncle a girl could ever have.” He looks up through lowered lids. “I understand why you did it. I know all too well the guilt you carry from that day. I never blamed you for that, and I never will. You were my brother then, and you’re my brother now. Because of that, I will do what you ask of me. I’ll find whoever it is you want to find.”

I open my mouth to thank him, but the severity in his eyes has the words dying in my throat. “I understandwhyyou made your decision, but you made my girls cry, Orion. And that is something I will never forget. Never forgive.”

I swallow hard, guilt settling in the pit of my stomach as I think of Brett, her big eyes red from crying after each time I denied her visitation. At the time, I wanted to be left alone—to rot in my misery—and I wasn’t thinking about all the people I was hurting in the process. Truthfully, I didn’t care. And the knowledge of that hurts the deepest.

Pulling his eyes from my face, Ghost turns his attention to the shot glass in his palm, twirling the crystal between his fingers as he inspects the lipstick mark beneath the lights.

“You’re looking for a woman.” A statement, not a question.

“I am.”

“Why?” he asks, never taking his eyes from the mark.

I pause for a beat, considering my words carefully. “I think you already know.”

He closes his eyes tight, taking a deep inhale. “Your intentions?”

“Oh, I’m sorry—I didn’t realize you suddenly grew a pair of morals. I just need you tofindher. I can take care of the rest.”

His eyes fly open, and when he speaks, his voice is low. Dangerous. “You’ve changed, Orion…”

That sentence shouldn’t be like a knife to my heart, but it is. Not that he uttered it, but because it’s true. “I guess you have eyes. Good for you.”

His nostrils flare, but he says nothing to retaliate. “I’ll have the info for you in a day or so. And Orion?”

I raise my brows, preparing myself mentally for the blow he’s about to deliver. Except it never comes.

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