Page 6 of Phantom
I wanted to argue, but things had already turned sour, and I didn’t want to make them worse. I gave Dr. Marteau a tap on the shoulder and then stepped out into the hallway again, closing the door behind me. I whistled, calling, “Lockjaw.” I waited a few seconds, but there was no response. I whistled again, that time throwing in a clap as well.
“Here boy.” Again, nothing. “Lockjaw.”
I walked down the hallway to make sure he hadn’t escaped through the front door, but what I saw in the living room was much worse. There, sitting on my couch, petting an obedient Lockjaw on his left and with my brother, Taylor, sitting on the arm of the couch to the right, was the man I’d expressly asked Dr. Marteaunotto call. Nicholas “Squared” Nicholas—my dad.
Chapter Three
Tess
Any excitement that Colin turning back up in my life gave me bled out when I saw my dad and brother. I deliberately asked the doctornotto contact my dad because I knew that there was a pretty good chance Taylor was still with him. I could explain certain things to my dad, not just because I was a bit of a daddy’s girl, but also because I was his vice president and noted right hand. He’d listen to me if I told him to trust me and that I was taking care of an old friend.
Taylor, however—well, he was a different story.
I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when Taylor lost his mind. Our mother died before either of us was really old enough to remember her, so my dad had raised us by himself and did a hell of a job at it. I distinctly remembered having a normal, loving brother as a little girl, but then it suddenly seemed like any guy that even looked in my direction got his head bitten off. Figuratively, at first, but as he got older, he started to get slowly more physical and violent. I tried to call his bluff with my first boyfriend after I pledged for the Steel Knights, and it turned out to be a huge mistake. Taylor broke into my house while we were having sex, dragged my boyfriend out into the backyard, and shot him before I could get a word in edgewise. My dad had it covered up like a break-in gone bad. To say it traumatized me would be an understatement.
After that, I committed myself to never doing anything other than letting the odd, wavering guy take me home for a one-night stand, and even those encounters were treated like such a big secret that they could have been stored in Area 51. I imagined Colin’s crooked grin and green eyes, and my stomach twisted into a knot. Adulthood had been good to him, and he still had his brother to think about. I couldn’t get him killed by trying to rekindle an old flame, even if he still looked at me like I was the most important thing in the world. Now that Taylor was aware he existed or would be aware soon, I had to make sure that nothing happened between us.
For a really long time, my dad tried to convince me that Taylor was just being overprotective—it’s what a brother is supposed to do—but somewhere along the way, I realized that Taylor didn’t have much other than blind aggression inside his body. Sometimes, I felt like he was doing it because he felt more like I was his property than his sister, and someone who touched his property had to die. Most of the time, though, I thought it was just because Taylor was crazy. Around five years ago, my dad had stopped defending his behavior and just tried to steady the waters. He was starting to realize his son was unhinged, too, even if he didn’t want to accept it.
“Hi, Daddy,” I finally greeted him. I reserved familial association for when we weren’t around the other members of the brotherhood. Otherwise, I called him Squared or Nick like everyone else.
My dad, a man with short brown hair, a severe jawline, and several scars across his stubbled skin, gave me a smirk. “Hey, baby. Working late, I see?”
“A friend of mine needed some help,” I replied. “I told Marteau not to bother you with it.”
My dad chuckled. “You know good and well that everyone has orders to tell meeverything. Big or small, if it’s worth your time, it’s worth mine.” That was my dad’s way of saying that he was paranoid about everything that happened without him, but I’d never dare say that out loud. “We were still at the Taphouse when he called. Taylor was right there with me, so we both decided to come and make sure you were okay.”
I sat down in one of the armchairs that sat perpendicular to the couch and tapped my leg, and Lockjaw finally tore himself away from my dad and came to me, setting his head in my lap and waiting patiently for scratches.
I set a hand on his head and rubbed for a few seconds silently before continuing. “I’m okay, Daddy. Really. A friend came to me and was a little banged up, and I called Dr. Marteau to get him a little help.”
Taylor raised an eyebrow immediately. “Him?”
“Yes. A friend from high school. CJ.” I locked eyes with Taylor. “Just a friend.” I decided to omit the fact that it was Colin from my childhood that was in the other room. I wasn’t sure what my dad or Taylor would do if they knew it was my childhood crush, but I was hoping they wouldn’t put two and two together so that I didn’t have to find out. I shifted my gaze from Taylor to my dad. “I’d like a private audience.”
Taylor was the spitting image of my dad apart from his auburn hair that was closer to mine. When he scoffed, he and my dad were nearly indistinguishable. “Aw, come on. We’re all family here. Why the secrecy?”
“This isn’t a family matter,” I responded, but I directed the comment to my dad. “I’m asking for a private audience as your vice president.”
The smirk that Taylor had turned into a scowl. “That’s low.”
My dad tapped his fist against Taylor’s arm. “It’s fine, Taylor. Why don’t you head home? We’ll talk tomorrow.” Taylor didn’t move. I shifted my attention toward him and saw that he was staring at me like he wanted to set me on fire. My dad cleared his throat and turned to look at Taylor. “Leave. Now.”
I was surprised that the deep sigh Taylor let out in response didn’t blow actual smoke out of his nose. He stood up off of the arm of the chair, glaring at me as he moved. He came to stand in front of my coffee table, staring at me over it, and suddenly, he brought up and threw down a fist into the glass, shattering it all over the floor. He was unbothered by his destruction as he stepped through the frame and over to the front door. He opened it and walked through, slamming it behind him.
“Brat,” I hissed under my breath, staring sadly at my coffee table. I’d had to replace more than one piece of furniture due to Taylor’s outbursts, but I really liked that coffee table.
My dad chuckled. “You know how he is. I’ll replace the table.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. I’ll just redecorate.”
He crossed his arms and looked at me, a little more relaxed, but also a little more business. “Now. Are you going to tell me what this isreallyall about?”
“I didn’t lie,” I replied quickly. “Itisa friend from high school, and heisbanged up, though that might be a kind way to put it. He looked like he was going to pass out any second.”
“What happened?”
I scratched behind Lockjaw’s ears, and he started to pant with satisfaction. “He said someone set his house on fire…with him in it. He thinks whoever did it is still after him.”
