Page 111 of The Phantom's Vice

BRETT

1 month later.

I sitat the bedside of the hospital bed, the repetitive beeps of the monitors fading to the background as I read my latest romance novel aloud to Ghost, who’s lying motionless in the bed. It’s been thirty days, six hours, and fourteen minutes since Ghost has been in a coma. Forty-three thousand, five hundred and seventy-four minutes. And I’ve spent most of them at his bedside, wishing on everything that he’ll open his beautiful, haunting eyes.

When I’m not sitting here wishing for Ghost to wake up, I spend my time reading to him. I never really knew if he enjoyed the stories or if he justenjoyed the fact that I did, but I wanted to continue our tradition of reading together, even if he doesn’t have the capacity to right now. Sometimes I pretend he can hear me, that he’s laughing along in his head at every funny passage or wiggling his brows at the spicy scenes, inviting me to play it out in real life.

But he doesn’t, so I just sit here. Waiting. Wishing.

The only knowledge of the outside world I now possess comes from Orion, Kain, and Lillith when they stop by to check on Ghost or make sure I’ve been eating. They’re the reason I know my former place of employment is in shambles. Lilith informed me that nearly half of the agents working for the Moriton bureau—including Samuel Danvers and Harvey Hawking—were charged with multiple counts for conspiracy and bribery. As I look back on it now, it’s hard to believe so many things were going on under my nose. But I guess that’s just the way things are in Moriton—criminals are a dime a dozen, and fortune refuses to favor the good—and certainly not the honest.

However, one good thing has come from this mess. With Orion’s help, I entered Ghost’s account and sent a sizable chunk of money to Marge’s savings account. Enough for her to leave thisshithole of a city and get a place out in the mountains like she’s always dreamed of. Where no one will bother her, and she can read as many books as her heart desires.

The only other bright spot is that the Sanctum remains fractured. With the Madam and Table members taken out, the rest of the Masks scramble to hold the pieces together. I doubt they’ll be able to after the havoc Ghost caused, but stranger things have happened.

The hospital door creaks open, breaking me from my thoughts, and I raise my head to Orion’s sad smile, a greasy bag of Chinese food in his fist.

“Heard from the nurses you haven’t been eating. Knew you couldn’t turn down this.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, taking the bag from him with a forced smile. Truthfully, the smell of my once-favored food is making me nauseous, but I’m certainly not going to tell Orion that when he went through all the trouble to get me to eat. “Have the doctors said anything?”

“You mean, since the last time you asked thirty minutes ago?” Orion pins me with a hard stare as he takes a seat in one of the uncomfortable visiting chairs. “You gotta stop pestering them, Brett. He’ll wake up when it’s time?—”

“It’s been a month!” I cry, snapping my mouth closed as someone clears their throat in the next room. I scowl, crossing my arms over my chest as I glare at Orion. “It’s been a whole damnmonth,and nothing’s changed.” While his body is able to breathe on its own now, he still won’t open his eyes. Won’t move.Somethingshould have happened by now. “Maybe they’re just not doing enough. Maybe?—”

“Brett.Stop,” Orion interrupts, getting up from the chair and walking over to me. “I want him back as much as you do, but sitting here stewing over it isn’t going to help matters. He’d want us todosomething with our lives. Not just sit around, crying over him. That’s not how Ghost was.”

“Don’t talk about him like he’s dead!” I shout, something inside me snapping at the teenager's insinuation. “He’s going to make it! I know he is!”

Orion shakes his head, his brows pulled together in a sad frown. “I know you want to believe that. But you have to be prepared for the possibility that he’s not. That he’ll never wake up.”

“You don’t know Ghost like I do,” I say, raising my chin. “He wouldn’t leave me. He—he promised,” I whisper, lowering my gaze as my voice cracks. “He’s going to wake up. Hehasto…”

Orion gives me a sad, knowing smile, patting me gently on the shoulder before turning and heading toward the exit. “Try to eat at least a little bit, okay? If Ghost does wake up, he won’t like the fact I’ve let you turn into a skeleton.”

I nod, not bothering to care that it’s a lie. I haven’t eaten in days, and the only water has been in the form of coffee beans. I’ve tried, but everything turns to sawdust in my mouth, and I can scarcely force myself to swallow down enough nutrients to keep my body going.

Weakly, I lift my hand and place it on Ghost’s cheek, so much colder than it normally is. If the heart monitor wasn’t steadily beeping, I would think he’d passed away. His skin is so pale—paler than normal—and the deep purple bags under his closed lids pull at my heartstrings.

My mom warned me not to trust a man in a mask—not to love them. But as I sit here at Ghost’s side, I can’t help but think she would take it back if she knew this one. Iknowshe would. Because Ghost isn’t like the others. He’s caring and kind deep down, even though the world has tried to take it from him time and again. To squash that little part of him that wants to do good. Wants tobegood.

“Where have you gone?” I whisper, running myfingertips gently down his cheek. “Won’t you come back to me?”

But he doesn’t, and I pull my hand to my chest, a deep, resounding pain thudding around my rib cage, bursting from my mouth in the form of a screaming sob.I just want him to be okay. I just—I just want to see his eyes again. Just one more time, and I could go on. Just one brush of his lips against mine, one last little touch of his hand resting on mine.

“Just one,” I whisper, fat tears rolling off my chin and down to the mattress with a mutedplop… plop… plop…

I’m gazing down at his poor, mutilated hands when I see it. A twitch.

I blink hard, then focus on the index finger I could have sworn just moved.There it is again!I spring from my chair, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. I’m in the process of racing from the room to get the doctor when something reaches out, brushing my elbow with the slightest touch.

I freeze, every nerve in my body lighting with electricity as Ghost’s hand tugs at my arm. I turn slowly, unable to believe my eyes as Ghost lies there, his beautiful, haunting purple eyes resting squarely on my face.

“Hello, darling.”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

GHOST

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