“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snap.
Ghost pivots around to sneer at me, the small camera I’ve just caught him installing in one of the outlets still clutched in his hand.
“Skipped dessert I see,” he drawls.
14
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I spit. “What are you doing?”
He snorts, casting a quick glance down at the camera before he returns his focus to my face. “What’s it look like, bitch? You broke the last one.”
I can’t believe the fucking balls on this guy. Actually, scratch that, I can believe it because he’s clearly an insane person. Like, criminally insane, like Ted Bundy or the Joker.
Quickly shutting my door, I dart across the room toward him, swiping at the camera. He holds it above my head and out of reach.
“Give it!” I shout.
He shakes his head, his grin infuriating. “I ain’t above knocking your dumb ass out, so calm—”
When I slap him, he shoves my chest, catching me off guard so I stumble and then fall backwards. I land on the floor on my ass, hard. He doesn’t even bother to look at me, though, before turning to finish installing his fucking camera in the outlet under my desk.
“You’re forgiven,” he says as he works, but the dark look he tosses over his shoulder assures me he’s lying. “But if that shit happens again…”
“Why are you doing this?” I demand, climbing to my feet. I scan the room in search of something to use as a weapon, but he gives me a tiny shake of his head—a warning that next time, he’ll probably send me flying out of my third story window.
He stands up, dusting his hands together like he’s just completed a twelve-hour shift of hard labor instead of five seconds of certified creeping. “It’s what your momma wants in order to keep you safe.”
“Like Nora gives a shit if I’m safe or not,” I grumble as he starts toward my door. Then, an idea crosses my mind. I wonder just how loyal Ghost is to Nora? If I could turn him against her, maybe I’d have a chance of beating her at her own game. Whatever it is between them is probably just sex, so his loyalty is likely conditional. “Does Nora give a fuck if you’re safe?”
He freezes in his tracks, his tattooed hand hovering a few inches from my doorknob, but he doesn’t face me. “What?”
“I’m just wondering if she’s really worth all this, or if she’d turn on you when it becomes more beneficial for her to do so. She’s done it to everyone else around her, hasn’t she?”
Finally, he turns around, his teeth clenched, the inky skeletal fist around his throat straining. “You’d better watch your mouth, bitch.”
The venom in his voice tugs at the tiny hairs on my arms and the nape of my neck, but I push through, crossing my arms over my chest. “What? Did I hit a nerve? You nervous your old ass fuck-buddy’s going to get tired of you or something?”
He rushes me, taking me by surprise. Grabbing the front of my shirt, he slams me up against the desk, sending my rolling chair toppling over. My breath leaves me in a rush, and when it comes back, it mingles with his.
“Don’t talk about her like that,” he snarls in my face. “You have no idea what she’s done for me. You speak like that about her again, I’ll make you regret it, you understand?”
I’m shocked by his response. It doesn’t sound like someone defending their partner, however. It almost sounds like he’s defending someone he deeply cares about.
Like … a mother.
Old memories flood me of my classmates back in Rayfort. Even before the fire that killed James, Jenn wasn’t Rayfort’s favorite citizen, and my classmates had no issue taunting me over my loser mom. But the thing is, despite Jenn’s flaws, she was my mom. I had lost count of how many fights I’d gotten into defending her.
Or how many times James had intervened just to keep my ass from getting suspended.
Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip so hard that I taste blood, I shrink away from Ghost, but he maintains his grip on my shirt. “What is Nora to you?” I dare to ask, even though I know he’s already on the razor’s edge. “Why are you so loyal to her?”
I don’t really expect him to answer. It’s not like he’s been incredibly forthcoming so far in our interactions, so I’m shocked to my core when he hisses, “She takes care of me. Nobody’s ever taken care of me before. She gives a fuck what happens to me and has given me an actual fucking purpose to my life. I owe that woman everything.”
My mouth goes slack at the realization that I’d just called it right. “Ghost … do you have mommy issues?”
He slams his fist against the desk, cracking the wood, and I cringe.
“You ungrateful slut,” he hisses. “You don’t see it. How she’d walk through hell and back for the people she loves.”
But that’s just the thing. I don’t think Nora’s capable of love.
Once upon a time, that appears to not have been the case, but I think her capacity to genuinely love someone was burned up with her family—and it doesn’t matter much to her that her sister and baby survived. Not when she’s spent sixteen years fueled by hate. Still, it’s suddenly clear that Ghost loves Nora. Just not at all in the way I expected. Instead of a sexual relationship, he’s morphed her into some kind of mother-figure in his mind.
And if that’s the case, it’ll be a lot harder to convince him to turn on her.
Fuck.
“I don’t want her love,” I finally say, and he barks out a laugh that beats a warning drum in my ears.
Why am I provoking him? Is it because of this darkness swirling around inside me that grows with each word of praise he utters about her? Whatever this feeling is, it’s ugly, overflowing with fury and … jealousy. Those emotions only build within me as I come to grips with the fact this asshole has gotten more time and attention out of my mother than I did because she couldn’t be bothered with me until it was convenient for her.
Almost a goddamn year after she found out I was still alive.
“Someday, when Nora stops protecting you, I’ll slit your throat,” he promises.
I shove against his chest and he draws away from me, backpedaling to the center of my room.
“You know what? I don’t believe you because you’re too afraid she’ll take away her precious love. Besides, I’m sure by the time she stops protecting me, you’ll either be dead or in jail, so forgive me if I don’t tremble with fear at your pathetic threat.”
Holy shit, where’d that come from? Am I out of my mind? Why am I provoking this guy?
For a second, I stand perfectly still, a statue against my desk because the flush creeping up his tattooed neck tells me I’ve gone too far. Finally, though, he simply shakes his head and twitches his lips into a scornful smile.
“You’re a lot like her, you know. As much as you don’t want to see it, I do.”
He’s right. That’s not something I want to fucking see or hear. Sucking in my cheeks, I scoot away from the desk and nod down toward the camera I’d caught him installing. “I’m just going to remove it like I did the last one. Make sure she knows that.”