Page 82 of Guarded By the Phantom

Nat threw a bunch of envelopes on my filthy kitchen table. “You missed a week at work. Fatima says to grace her with a note the next time you want some impromptu leave.”

I shrugged, exhaling smoke through my nose hole. “Let her fire me. I don’t care.”

Nat nodded, studying me with that deliberative, non-judgmental air I so hated. I’d rather he told me off for missing work and being a pussy. But Nat was a strategist. He only did what worked, and he knew I would open up the soonest if he didn’t push.

Fucker.

“Fine,” I said, sitting down at the table. “Do you at least have my drugs?”

He took off his backpack, and I perked up. But instead of my sweet meth, Nat pulled out a huge takeaway box. He opened it and pushed empty bottles off the table to make room in front of me. Around three pounds of raw steak, still steaming with freshness, stared at me from the box.

“I fucking hate you,” I growled, giving him the most baleful look I could muster. “You’re a menace and a fucking bastard. Motherfucker!”

“That’s right. I fucked your mother and she loved it. Now eat.”

My jaw dropped. Nat grinned, showing me his sharp teeth, and I huffed. Fine. So he could speak my language. Big deal.

Since it would have been a travesty to let such good steak go to waste, I devoured it, not caring about my manners. Nat set about putting all the still intact bottles into a trash bag. I let him be, focusing on the food. Now that I started eating, I realized how hungry I was.

And even though it tasted amazing, the juicy meat bursting on my tongue with fresh blood, it also brought in a sense of awareness I’d deprived myself of in the last seven days. As sensations poured into me, my systems turning on now thatfood was available, the pain returned. I groaned and grabbed my chest with my bloody hand. My fucker of a heart was still in agony.

“That bad, huh?” Nat asked quietly, watching me from the other side of the table.

I shrugged, taking another big bite of steak while Nat opened my fridge, tutted at how empty it was, and put another box of meat inside. Fuck, he was a good friend, and it annoyed me so fucking much. I should have done a better job pissing him off in the past so he’d have fucked off for good.

When I was finally fed, I lurched up to my unsteady feet and washed my hands and face over the kitchen sink. Nat put a tall glass of water in front of me, and I drank it with grudging gratitude.

“So,” he said, taking his place opposite me. “I see you’re in a bad shape.”

It was the understatement of the year. I laughed hoarsely, my throat protesting. It was scratchy from all the smoke and the stinky air I’d breathed for a week.

“She broke me, Nat,” I said, looking away. “She said she loved me, and the next day, she took it back. Told me I was only good for fucking.”

He nodded without saying anything, and I groaned, throwing up my hands.

“Well, what else do you want me to say? I asked her to move in with me, Nat, and she said yes! But two hours later, she was like, no thank you, get out of my sight. How am I even supposed to trust women? Bitches, all of them.”

“Your pain is valid and understandable,” he said calmly, making me cuss viciously. I hated him so fucking much. “But have you considered that change in her behavior was very abrupt? Could there have been circumstances present you weren’t aware of?”

I snorted. “Nice try. The only circumstance I wasn’t aware of was the fact I’m a fucking moron, but I know better now. I’m gonna drink myself to death or be a celibate monk.”

Nat snorted, taking my glass to pour me more water. My stomach churned and growled, doing its best to handle actual nutrition after a week of poison.

“What I’m trying to say, Scarab, is that she hit you in your biggest insecurity. And I’m not excusing that, she did a shitty thing, but tell me—if she rejected you because you smoke or because you steal all the time, or maybe because of your stupid sense of humor, would you have been so crushed?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, I guess. But it wouldn’t have been a dealbreaker. I could give up smoking for her. Or stop stealing. No biggie. She just needed to ask, and I would have changed my behavior. Or, well, hidden it better.”

“See?” Nat nodded. “You would have stayed and negotiated. You would have gone to the bottom of it and found out what her real problem was. But since she hit you where it hurts the most, you got scared and ran.”

“I did not get scared!” I roared, pushing away from the table so fast, my chair toppled. “She used me and laughed in my face! Shetold me to go!So I fucking did!”

He nodded placidly, completely ignoring my outburst. I clenched my jaw, picked up my chair, and sat down with a huff. We stared at each other over the table until Nat threw an envelope at me.

“From Clarissa Ashford’s lawyer,” he said, explaining.

I gave the letter a baleful look. I’d rather set it on fire than read it, but curiosity got the better of me. Because what business did they have writing me now? I was done.

Tearing the envelope open, I quickly scanned the letter, barking out an incredulous laugh when I understood what it meant.

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