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Never.
Not until tonight.
Being a Ravager was one thing, but being one of Xavier Michaelson’s sons, blood or not, was no different from being the big man himself. We were his legacy. Our actions affected not only us, but our people, too. One wrong move, and that was it.
Fuckingkaputski.
A long moment of silence had passed and as Phantom slowly began to calm down, processing my words, that indignant little smirk on his face started dissipating.
“Oh, no.” He gripped the side of his head, shaking it vigorously. “Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!”
“Welcome back to reality,” Isaac grumbled.
Phantom looked away from me to stare out the window. He ground his teeth; no doubt even more pissed with himself now that he’d finally seen the bigger picture.
“Look,” inserted Isaac. “If that woman on stage really was Samara, then there’s nothing we can do about it outside of the academy.”
“Go on,” I said, curious but yet worried about what he had in mind. Seeing is believing, and I know what I saw, just like Phantom and Isaac did. But a part of me—a huge, deep part of me—couldn’t help but fucking pray that the woman on stage was someone else. Anyone else but Samara.
“We’ll just wait until she’s back at school,” Isaac said with a demonic grin on his face.
“And if she doesn’t show?” Phantom asked, still glaring out the window.
“Then we’ll wait. Now that I think about it, we should set up agatheringwith our little spy. If Samara really is an Outlaw, then that means she knows Jace. If we capture and interrogate them both, we’ll find out exactly what Damien Reyez has concocted under those sleeves of his.”
“I’m game,” Phantom replied.
“Rhett? You in?”
I swallowed, unsure of what to say because it sounded like a great idea and a really fucked-up one. Maybe it was the way my mother had raised me, but I couldn’t help but feel like there had to be more to the story. That there was a reasonable explanation as to why Samara was working for Damien. Mom always taught me to never judge a book by its cover when it came to other people. That everyone had a story and that sometimes things aren’t what they seem given the situation.
“I agree.” Knots tangled in my stomach as I peered between Isaac and Phantom, who was glancing between us. “However, we need to go home, talk to Dad, and tell himeverythingfirst. Then we can discuss a plan.”
“Agreed,” nodded Isaac. “Phantom?”
“Yeah.” He instantly bobbed his head, looking unkindly pleased with the arrangement. “Agreed.”
Two
Phantom
RedwasallIcould see. Rage surged through my body as if someone had just taken a syringe full of liquid fire and injected it into my veins.
“We’re here,” Rhett said, sighing as he parked his SUV and shut off the car. “Come on. Let’s get this shit over with already.”
Isaac was the first to get out, Rhett second, then me.
“And by the way,” Rhett snapped as he began walking towards the house, giving me a heated glare over his shoulder. “You’re paying for my fucking window.”
“Fuck you and your goddamn window,” I seethed, storming past him.
“Phantom!” Rhett grabbed my arm, but I swiftly whipped around and shoved him away from me. Isaac stepped between us as Rhett made to charge me.
He backed off, his chest heaving as Isaac extended his arms in an attempt to keep us separated.
“Chill the fuck out,” Isaac snarled, his dark green eyes flashing with malice. “We don’t have time for this shit.”
Rhett rolled his eyes and stomped closer to the house. He marched up the steps, then unlocked the front door, slamming it behind him.
