Page 100 of Phantom
Scene 26
UNMASKED
Sol
My triceps, shoulders, and chest strain against my long-sleeved black shirt as I lift the weight in my chest press. It’s been days since I’ve been able to be maskless and go without wearing my eye prosthetic, so it’s been just as long since I’ve worked out properly. With Scarlett hopefully coming to see me again soon, I want to go ahead and get a good one in. It feels good to get some frustration out. Other than Scarlett’s audition, it’s been a shitty day.
The shadow who drove my Aston Martin while I was in the cemetery with my family has gone missing. He’s one of my best, so not being able to get in touch with him is out of the ordinary. I’ve reached out to my contacts and while some of them don’t know, others sounded… cagey.
My shadows have never had a reason to distrust me. I have to figure out where their wariness is stemming from before Scarlett comes by so I can give everyone my full attention.
That’s why I watched Scarlett’s audition, not that I could’ve resisted going in the first place. I had to see her one more time to get it out of my system before I went about my day. She did so well, but for the first time, I was able to see how much she holds back when her heart’s not in the song.
I can’t wait for her to perform again on Friday at the Red, White, and Black Party. Ziggy Miles, the lead singer of the jazz and blues band, was more than excited to have her perform with them again, and all those details between the band and Madam G have been worked out, too. All Scarlett has to do is show up and bring the house down with her gorgeous voice. I’ve even already arranged an outfit to be delivered to her dorm. Until now, I’ve never looked forward to going to Masque, but seeing Scarlett in the dress I picked out for her will be divine—
An alarm chimes on my phone and I rack the bar before sitting up. The cool air in the room nearly makes me shiver as it kisses my damp skin through my long sleeves. My home is exactly the way I want it, but some of my scars are sensitive to the chill that’s everywhere but my den and bedroom.
As I pat some of the cool sweat off my forehead, I check the security app I installed on my phone. It’s a close proximity alert. Something’s tripped a scanner in the tunnels. When I thumb through the security feeds, I narrow my eye to make out who it is.
“What the—”
Scarlett is navigating the tunnels with her cell phone flashlight. If she’d just called me, I would’ve turned on the lights for her.
“What the hell are you up to, little muse?”
It’s not a problem that she’s in the tunnels. It’s that I’ve only shown her the path once, and if she deviates from it in the dark, there’s no telling which of my traps she might accidentally trip.
The feed cuts off as a phone call comes in. My finger flicks it to answer and I bark into the mouthpiece. “Sabine, what the fuck is she doing down here? She was supposed to call me.”
“I don’t know, sir,” Sabine answers in her alto. “Do you want me to get her?”
“No. No. I’ll get her. Watch all the other entrances, I won’t have her in danger down here.”
“Will do.”
We hang up simultaneously and I jump off the bench press, not wasting time to retrieve a jacket over my long sleeves to combat the cold, damp tunnels. I turn on the screen again, just in time to watch her almost land face-first in the channel. My heart thuds as she catches herself, but I quickly activate the tunnel lights so she can see where she’s going.
I race through my apartment, locking the door behind me before I navigate the still dim, but much brighter, tunnels to get to her. I hear her cursing before I see her and when I round the corner, I wrap her in an immobilizing embrace to prevent her from doing anything else so reckless.
“What’re you doing, Scarlett? You could’ve gotten hurt,” I hiss, my heart pounding as I take deep steadying breaths, attempting to get my pulse under control now that I know she’s safe.
“Let me go, Sol! Don’t touch me!”
Confusion has me furrowing my brow, and I try not to let my heart ache at her tone. I drop her to her feet and raise my hands at the sides of my head before taking a step back, giving her space.
She brushes off her T-shirt and leggings before straightening her posture. When she finally looks up, she gasps and stutters back, her hand over her mouth.
“Your… your…”
I forgot to put on my mask.
Her eyes are wide and as her hand moves, her lips stay parted. In any other circumstance, I’d think the look was wonder. It morphs into something akin to understanding, and hope takes flight in my chest… Until the horror I feared finally replaces her features.
My stomach churns and I instinctively know that look. It’s the same one my mother gave me when I finally fought my way home at fifteen. It’s the same one everyone had before I got fitted for prosthetics and masks. But this sinking sensation that makes me feel like I’m falling into an endless pit… that’s new. Because for once, I’d let hope get in the way of reality.
I slap my hand over my face to cover my awful shame. My voice is flat when I whisper, “I’d hoped you would be different.”
She blinks rapidly, as if she’s coming out of a trance, and she shakes her head. “Sol, no… that’s not it.”
