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Phantom stared at the brand-free chest for another long moment, and then released his grasp around Max’s neck. He looked at Sophie.
“You haven’t been fully inducted. Max, I ended up with some money but I think the Texan Demonios think you have it-”
“Texan? Nah, I joined SoCal…”
“Yes but Phantom killed them all,” Sophie interrupted, waving her hand about dismissively. “And he would have killed you, but the Texan branch nearly got there first-” Sophie gulped now. She had nearly lost him. Max, her little brother. She looked to Phantom.
Sophie saw the weight of the world in his eyes. The weight of not just this world. Heaven and hell and all the universes in between. She knew Phantom would hurt about this. He would blame himself forever and always that he nearly killed her brother. She knew he was sorry.
But right now she was too fucking angry to carry his anguish. She was crushed under the weight of her own. She tipped her head back and roared at the sky. She felt the cold, wet grass on her knees. She must have sunk down. She gripped her thighs and squeezed her eyes shut and howled again. She was angry at the whole situation, the ridiculous twisted web that she had got caught up in by agreeing to take a bagful of cash.
She wanted to burn, she wanted revenge, she understood suddenly Phantom’s own undying need for vengeance. If anyone dared to lay a finger on Max, she would move heaven and earth to stop him getting hurt. She would die for him. She would kill for him. As Phantom did. She saw it all and yet she could not step back from her anger.
He would have killed Max. The Texan would have killed Max. But Phantom killed the Texan. She felt rage at all of it. She was angry at the Texan. She was angry at Phantom. She was angry at the Demonios gang and the whole world. She could not be the bigger person and forgive. She knew she should. She could not turn the other cheek, she wanted her pound of flesh for this. But she felt burning, roiling, madness. She felt betrayal and hurt. She knew this was all knee jerk reaction, just pure emotion. But she felt it within her. She had crossed that bridge, in that moment. Over into the realm of the dead. Into the realm of darkness. Into Phantom’s darkness. She sat and simmered as the demons of vengeance and hate swirled about her head and whispered to her. They whispered quietly, yet persuasively. They pulled at her, they whispered sweet words, little bliss filled puffs of temptation to hurt and to hate. Like candy in her mouth. So instantly good, so hard to ignore. She wanted them, she wanted to hear more. And she gave herself to that darkness. She let them in and let that feeling fill her up. Let it eat her up. Let it consume her soul. She would rip anyone or anything that threatened Max. She would tear, she would kill.
She howled again but her voice was raw. It was more of a muffled shriek. And she felt the tears now. On her cheeks. She tasted them in her mouth. Salty. So salty. She tasted bile on her tongue. She tasted hate and fear and anger and hurt. She tasted the darkness. And she did not like how it tasted.
She quietened. In her soul, as well as out loud. She felt calm exhaustion settle in now. She was aware she was kneeling on the cold, wet grass in her backyard. She was aware night had fallen properly now. She felt the cold chill coming through the ground. Or was it coming through her heart? She wasn’t sure, she felt it in her bones. She felt the toll it had taken on her, to feel those feelings for just a moment. To feel anger and revenge and hate. How fiercely it had burned and now how spent she felt. How ravaged. How tired. How empty and cold.
Poor Phantom. Eli. Elijah. She felt this for only a moment, for the first time, because something nearly happened to her brother. He had felt this for the whole of his adult life. He had been in the cold, dark, damp realm of the dead for so many years. He had these demons on his shoulder whispering and goading him to rip and kill for his life. Sophie knew now. They were persuasive. Their words were liquid honey. They made it sound easy. They made it sound right.
Her anger toward him had burned hot and fiercely but was spent now. Like a fourth of July firework, boom and then out. The anger toward the Demonios was different. It was fueled, like a steam train furnace, stoked and getting hotter, burning low and slow. She wanted it hot enough to melt flesh.
“Sophie?” A quiet voice cut through the darkness.
She opened her eyes. Max.
He was hunkered down next to her, his face was a picture of shock and incredulity. She almost laughed.
“So, are you ready for the lesson?” Their father’s cheerful voice cut jarringly through the night from around the other side of the shed.
Sophie stood, sniffing up her tears and upset. Smiling forcefully. Max copied her, rolling back his shoulders, adjusting his slightly stretched out T-shirt, putting a brave face on it.
Their father came around the corner. “Well, good, your entertainer friend is ready, he’s by the target I’ve set up, your friends are all excited. Sophie, I have to say I thought this was a bad idea at first but I think this is going to be a good treat…” She smiled, though her heart was throbbing from the strain of holding itself together. Max grinned and loped off, his wide eyes the only thing betraying his emotions.
* * *
“Sophie,this cafe of yours, this venture, it has been very good for you in some ways, and you know your father and I support you whole-heartedly in it. But it’s not been good for you in other ways.” Her mother was drying dishes at the kitchen sink, handing them to Sophie who was putting them away in the cupboards.
“What do you mean?”
“You are always thinking with a business head, a tit-for-tat mindset. This cost me X, I can invest Y… I do this for you, you do that… they took A, you take B…”
Sophie almost laughed out loud. She took the money, they tried to take Max, they took Phantom’s soul, he’s trying to rip it back…
“What happened to the kind, generous girl who wanted to set up an ice cream shop for her brother? For other people suffering from similar situations as him? For kindness, for love? For no other reason than to bring joy to others?”
Sophie ground her teeth. She didn’t need this lecture from her mother tonight. “Joy doesn’t pay the bills, Mom.”
Her mother sighed, not hiding the disappointment in her face. Sophie felt chastised but angry, she wanted to rage against her mother, but knew it wasn’t really her mother she was angry with. They fell into silence, both women watching out of the window.
Phantom had the boys gathered around him like ducklings around a mother hen. They all obviously idolized him. He had paced out the distance to the wooden pallet, which was propped against a tree. That was the target, and Phantom was showing them how to hold the knives. He was mimicking the knife spinning in the air, in slow motion, and demonstrating the knife going into the pallet square. He shook his head to indicate no, not too fast so the knife ends up over rotating. Despite not speaking, he was providing clear instructions. Patient, captivating their attention, calmly showing them the technique. Then handing out the knives, trusting the boys with them.
She wondered what her mother thought of him? A little rough around the edges; long hair, tattoos, leather jacket. But he was displaying a lot of good qualities right now. And he looked so handsome. Sophie had seen the instant regret on his face, she could only imagine the world ending howl he wanted to let out at the sudden remorse. The realization that the guy he was after, his ‘one more’, was, cruelly enough, Sophie’s brother. She knew he was sorry, not just sorry, ashamed, instantly horrified by what he could have done. She didn’t want revenge on Phantom, she wanted to share in his revenge against the Demonios. She wanted them all dead and buried and rotting away in the ground.
Sophie sighed. Her mother followed Sophie’s gaze out the window.
“He seems nice, I suppose. I mean, I should have known you wouldn’t fall for a guy in a gray suit with a pension… he seems… good for you,” her mother finished.
