Page 110 of Phantom
We go up—flight after flight—until we reach the very top roof access.
“The roof? How did you even know there’s access up here? Students aren’t even allowed—”
He presses his phone screen—an older model than I thought he had—and the door opens with the same kind of whirs and clicks that the doors in the tunnels have. As soon as the clicking is finished, he pushes open the door, revealing the rooftop, and turns with a smug smile.
“There’s a lot about the French Quarter that Sol Bordeaux doesn’t realize I know.”
My chest seizes and I freeze as Rand yanks me through the door and closes it behind us.
“Rand… what does that mean?”
He steps out onto the rooftop and twirls in a circle with his arms out. “Look at it, Lettie. New Orleans in all her glory. The French Quarter in all her splendor.”
I follow him to the Bourbon Street side of the building and rotate to see my surroundings. The rooftop of the New French Opera House is flat with a waist-high wrought iron parapet that lines the outer walls of the roof to protect people from falling over. From her perch in the middle of the building, a bronze statue of the Greek goddess Athena stands guard over the city with her circular shield in one hand and her spear in the other. Only a few blocks away, the Central Business District towers in the night sky, and below us, the lights and sounds of Bourbon Street glow and drift up to us.
“It’s beautiful,” I agree. “But, um, why are we up here, Rand?”
He rips his mask away from his face and finally settles his wild gaze back on me. Apprehension knifes down my spine and my heart thunders in my chest. I have the urge to remove my black butterfly mask too, but I refrain, not wanting to take my eyes off of his with the chilling vibes emanating from him.
The exact same clear blue I remember when I was a kid now glares back at me. The fact that there’s no manic insanity there makes his dramatic and loud movements more unnerving.
There are so many people who are afraid of mental illness and the ones who suffer from it. Some even go so far as to believe we’re all capable of being monsters. But people who don’t require madness to behave irrationally are more dangerous than us all.
“It was my brother’s dying wish to own New Orleans, you know. Like the Bordeauxsthinkthey do. And I’ve come back to finally fulfill his dream. But this stupidtruceis getting in the way. I thought by getting close to you again, I would get underneath Sol’s skin. If he doesn’t care about you, though… then I get to finish whatIstarted.”
Icy dread freezes in my veins as I finally realize that the misplaced trust I had as a kid has led me astray once again as an adult. But this time, it wasn’t just at my expense. I hurt the one person in my life who has only ever cared for me. I even went so far as to blame him for the very thing that Rand is admitting to right now.
He walks in a semicircle around me and I fight the terrified stiffness in my body to turn with him to keep him in my sights. When my back is to the street, he stops and faces me, evil tensing his handsome features, and I gulp before taking a small step back.
Talk to him. Try to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about, then run the hell away.
“Wh-what did you start?”
“Did you know your father worked for mine?”
That makes me still. “He did? I knew your family helped ours when my father was in between gigs—”
Rand snorts. “We don’t justhelppeople, Scarlett. No one deserves handouts, least of all your father.”
I shake my head. “No… my dad was one of the best. That’s why your dad sponsored him—”
My former childhood friend barks out a laugh. “He was mediocre at best. You, however, have talent. And yet you’re planning to waste your life playing for tips like he did. What I can’t decide is whether you’re pathetic or delusional for thinking that’s a good idea.” He pauses and pretends like he’s thinking. “Although, considering your diagnosis, probably both, right? Hmm… too bad stealing your meds backfired so badly. I’ve heard stories of your episodes. That could’ve been fun to see.”
My mouth falls open. “That… that wasyou?”
He smirks, triumph shining in his eyes. “Guilty. Wanted to see how long it’d take for your little Phantom friend to come out of hiding. I hadn’t considered he’d kidnap you. Tell me, did you sleep with him, Lettie?”
My eyes narrow. “That’s none of your business.”
He huffs before shrugging. “Yeah… I thought you might have. I never dreamed you’d be slutty enough to spread your legs and let him ruin you. But hey, I suppose that’s just the cost of doing business.”
“What do you mean,ruinme?” I argue nervously.
“The bastard fucked you and discarded you.” He sneers as he throws his arms out to the sides. “I’m sure your sweet, naive little brain believed he thought you were someone special. But you wasted your body on a monster.”
“Rand—” My eyes burn and embarrassed anger bubbles in my chest.
He inches forward, his head tilted. “Did he brand you?”
