Page 108 of Ghosted

He waits, patient and amused. The worst part is, he’s actually giving me the choice, and he knows it too. That’s why he’s smiling.

“Go ahead,” he says. “Shut me out. Go be mad alone. Maybe Jagger will suddenly develop emotional range and call you to apologize.”

“Fuck you.”

His eyes flash and he grins.

My pulse kicks, and I hate how fast it happens. How anger can turn into heat when someone presses the bruise hard enough.

Johnny lowers his voice. “He picked me, Alice. Doesn’t matter how he dressed it up. The fight. The blood. The cage.” His gaze drops to my mouth, then lifts again. “So what are you going to pick?”

My hand tightens on the door.

I should slam it. I should shove it closed and lock every lock and never let him hear my voice again.

Instead, I think about Jagger refusing me with his mouth still on mine. I think about Friday night. The crowd. Johnny smiling. Wraith coming apart exactly how Johnny wants him to, and something inside me snaps.

The hurt twists into something uglier.

Something reckless.

Something that wants to make both of them bleed.

Fine.

If Jagger wants to choose Johnny, maybe I will too. I’ll make it hurt. Let Johnny put his hands on me because apparently that is the only language either Cutter brother understands.

Johnny’s eyes narrow slightly, watching my face.

He knows.

The sick fuck knows before I even move.

“No chains tonight,” he says softly.

“Stop talking.”

“But you like it when I talk.”

“I hate you.”

His smile goes slow and wicked. “I know.”

That should scare me more than it does. It does scare me, it just doesn’t stop me.

I pull the door open.

Johnny doesn’t move right away. He looks past me into the apartment, then back at my face, giving me one last second to change my mind because he wants to be able to say I didn’t.

That I opened the door and let him in. That this time, it was my choice.

“You sure?” he asks, voice low and mocking.

I laugh, but it sounds nothing like me. “Don’t pretend you care.”

“I don’t.” He steps over the threshold, close enough now that his body heat hits mine. “I just want you to remember who opened the door when my dear little brother throws a tantrum.”

The words hit too deep.