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He straightens, hand gentle on my jaw, turning my face toward the light. Nerves take over and I close my eyes as he tilts my head to one side, then up, examining the bruises on my cheek and neck. He doesn’t scold me for it, yet, but the tremble that runs through him shakes me to my core.
“Who did this?” he growls, brushing his thumb over my cheek and making me flinch. I peek up at him as his hand drops, going back to settle around my waist, and those smoky white eyes cut like a knife.
By the time I realize he said something, I am trying to bring my brain down from the drunken high of his touch to reply, Murder is hissing something at Mayhem. “Would you grow up? You can stop hiding behind your hands now.”
"Fine, fine," he grumbles. "You're no fun."
"Never. Answer the question."
“Didn’t really get a good look,” Mayhem admits with a sigh. “Was a big guy, though. Eh, compared to her. Five-eleven, six-foot-ish. Ginger. Ran like a track star. Don’t know how he heard me comin’, actually.”
Ghost’s eyes don’t leave my face, and though he doesn’t speak, I know the question wasn’t for Mayhem. Not really. Considering what he did to Chuck, I shouldn’t want to tell him. I should be all tensed up and holding my tongue. But… that’s not what I do. Hell, after that kiss, I’d tell him the nuclear codes if I had ‘em.
“His name is Damian,” I whisper, giving the back of his neck a soothing squeeze as war dances behind his eyes. “Damian…Waters, I think, or Whitmore. Something with a W. It changed a lot. He was a friend of Chuck’s.”
“Oh,nowshe knows his name,” Mayhem grumbles, followed by another quick smacking noise. I have to assume Murder hit him for it. The sound Ghost makes is nothing short of a snarl. “Sorry, sorry. Jeez.”
“Damian,” Ghost growls out, “is a dead man.”
Panic seizes my chest, wringing out all the butterflies Ghost set loose in there. “No.”
“Hehurtyou,” Ghost says, so simply matter-of-fact. Like death is a known consequence for laying hands on me. “Why would you possibly not want him to—”
“I don’t care if he dies,” I say. “I-I don’t even care if you kill him. I hate him, Ghost… After what I saw, you should know that.”
His shoulders straighten a little, the blush on his cheeks from our kiss roaring back to life. My eyes flutter a bit, and I look down at his mouth, which does absolutely nothing to calm me down, then end up looking at the buttons on his shirt.
“I’m all for a schmuck hunt, but can it wait until morning? If I don’t get my beauty sleep, I’m a real bitch.”
I glance over my shoulder in time to see Mayhem grin at his own joke, before his eyes find a scowling Murder. “Holy fuck, you guys suck.”
“How blind are you, Mayhem?” Murder grunts.
“What?” he says. “I can see ’em just fine.”
Murder’s eyes narrow, gesturing emphatically to Ghost and me with his head.
Mayhem widens his eyes and mutters, “Oooh, got it. They’re in—”
Ghost’s head snaps up at the same time Murder decks Mayhem’s arm, and the latter bounces on the balls of his feet. “Ey! I am just as tired as you pricks, it takes a minute!”
I shake my head in confusion. “I have no idea what you’re on about.”
“Then,” Ghost turns my face forward, pushing his thumb under my chin to keep my eyes trained on his, “why are you telling me no?”
I wrap my hand around his wrist, biting my lower lip until I taste blood. He catches my panic and leans in, dragging his tongue over my teeth until I release my lip, which he sucks between his own.
The whine that tumbles over my tongue is far too loud in this small space, and I’m not ignorant to the uncomfortable look on the other faces.
Ghost doesn’t seem to mind.
“He said he’d kill you if I didn’t cooperate,” I force out. “H-He…said he’d make me watch.”
Even Murder scoffs at the idea, but Ghost is visibly taken aback by the fear in my eyes. He kisses my forehead and clutches me to his chest, letting me dig my nails into his shoulders and hang on tight.
“That won’t happen, Firefly.”
I blink at him as warmth spreads through my chest. A nickname. He gave me an absolutely wonderful nickname. I don't know why he'd pick that for me exactly, but I don't mind. He'll tell me eventually, I'm sure. For now it's cute, and it's mine.
