Page 89 of Phantom
Swallowing past the memory, I keep going, not wanting to admit out loud that my dad had somehow known the awful man.
“My attacker dropped me and turned around. He pulled a gun out just as my dad ran after him. Then… he shot him.” I gulp as I remember. “Twice. And my dad went down…”
“He shot twice?” Sol asks and my heart races at the question. It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten what I’ve said and what I haven’t.
I hesitate. “Maybe more. It’s been so long.”
His brows furrow but his hands loosen on my waist and drop to my hips. “And what happened to your attacker? Your father’s murderer?”
I close my eyes, shivering at the burning rage that’s branded itself under my skin, remembering the weight of the metal in my hand… the panic and confusion after.
“He ran away,” I answer, still trying to make sense of what happened. “Someone inside the restaurant had already called 9-1-1. When the ambulance came, they pronounced my dad dead on the scene.”
“So your dad didn’t fire his gun?”
My heart stills and I narrow my eyes. “My dad didn’t own a gun. He tried his best to clean up his act after I was born, but he was a felon before that. He wasn’t allowed to have guns.”
Sol watches me carefully and I hate the questions in his eyes. “So when your attacker shot twice—”
“The other guy fired more than that. I corrected myself after you asked me.”
Sol nods once slowly and before he can corner me with more questions, I ask the one I’ve really wanted to know.
“What happened to your eye?”
He scowls at me, no doubt knowing I’m stalling. But it’s my turn.
“What do you want to know?” he asks me back.
“Everything.”
He searches my face before tossing back the rest of his Sazerac. It’s almost as if I can see him having the same internal conversation I did, but I was honest with him. Sort of. Hopefully, he’ll be at least that honest with me.
“I was attacked. My attacker left with my eye. I was left with scars.”
“Who was it?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s dead now.”
“How did he die?”
“Scarlett…” he growls, but I keep going.
“Do your scars have anything to do with the Bordeauxs’ feud with the Chatelains?”
He stills, as frozen as stone. “Why do you ask that?”
“I’m just curious. Rand says—”
“Rand, and his whole family, are a bunch of liars,” he hisses. “You need to stay away from him, Scarlett.”
I bristle at the command. “Funny. That’s what Rand says about the Bordeauxs.”
Sol lifts me by my waist and settles me on my feet before getting up and carrying his empty glass to the bar.
“Well, maybe the Chatelains aren’t liars all the time, then.”
“What’s that mean?” I ask, following him as he makes another drink.
