Page 12

Barbara

W hen my coffee arrived, I stared at it with awe for a good minute while Phantom snorted, folding his arms in his seat opposite me.

“I don’t think they’ve ever made a drink like this before,” he said, laughing under his breath.

He nursed an enormous mug filled with twelve espressos. I cringed just looking at it, but he seemed to enjoy it. Phantom was also the one who paid for our orders, saying, “You don’t want your parents to see this in your credit card statement, doll. Let me handle it.”

Now we sat at a table by the window, which afforded Phantom a clear view of the coffeehouse entrance, and I felt giddy not just for the gorgeous drink in front of me, but also because this felt kind of like a date. Especially since he carried me in and held me all the way to the table, grinning uncannily at everyone who stared at us for too long.

It was silly, I knew, and yet, I couldn’t get rid of the warmth suffusing my chest.

“Aren’t you gonna eat it?” he asked finally when I turned my tall coffee mug this way and that, marveling at how pretty and colorful the drink was.

“In a minute,” I answered, my voice light with joy.

Phantom had bullied me at the counter, demanding I order exactly what I wanted, with all the blows and whistles. My coffee included three kinds of syrup, crunchy caramel chips, and double whipped cream decorated with white chocolate hearts and pink, blue, and silver sprinkles.

A hissy little voice in my head kept asking me if I knew how many calories were in it, but I was determined to ignore it.

“It looks like a unicorn went and shat in your mug,” Phantom said, leaning in to inspect the gorgeous sugar bomb. “They should trademark it. It could be called Unicorn’s Business.”

I laughed under my breath, not in the least grossed out by his comments. If anything, they made the experience all the better. I knew he wasn’t joking at my expense. I was in on the joke, he was here with me, and I was doing something deliciously forbidden that I’d wanted to do for years, and just…

“Thank you,” I said, looking up. My eyes felt hot. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Phantom huffed and raised his hand, his palm hovering in front of my face as if to cover it.

“Awesome. Good for you. Now please, eat your coffee, all right?”

I grinned and reached for the long spoon that came with my drink. “Eat” was the right word, too. My coffee had the consistency of a dessert, and I loved it all the more for it.

My enthusiasm lasted all through the whipped cream and the first half of my drink. Once I reached the halfway point, though, I couldn’t go on. My stomach churned and my teeth hurt from the sweetness, and even though I badly wanted to continue, I was afraid I’d be sick. I pushed the massive mug away and gave Phantom an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I can’t have any more.”

I expected him to guilt trip me into eating the rest. It was what my mother used to do. When I was younger, she allowed me one cheat meal every month, and I usually went way overboard asking for all the things I wanted and couldn’t normally have.

Fried chicken. French fries. Chocolate pudding. Cookie dough. A burger. Spaghetti carbonara. Pizza. I asked for all of it for that one single meal, because I knew I’d be on a strict diet after it, so I wanted to fit in everything I had cravings for.

Then, when I inevitably couldn’t stomach the huge amounts of food, my mother would stand there and harp on me for being a weakling who couldn’t handle the consequences of her own choices. The more she forced me to eat, the sicker I got, sometimes to the point of vomiting. When I was sixteen, I stopped wanting to have cheat meals altogether. I only associated them with guilt, pain, and discomfort.

Maybe that had been my mom’s goal.

But Phantom wasn’t like my mother. He simply shrugged, grabbed my mug, and took a big gulp. He’d barely swallowed before he started coughing and hitting his chest, making the table shake.

“Are you all right?” I asked after he stopped coughing and just wheezed harshly, holding his hand to his teeth.

He nodded and choked out in a hoarse voice, “I knew you’d be too sweet for me, doll. Had to try, though.”

I swallowed, unsure how to interpret his words. Most likely, they were another joke, so I shrugged and did my best not to linger on the hot, tingly feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“We should get back now,” I sighed with regret, looking out through the window at the bustling street outside. “I have a flower arranging lesson in the afternoon, and I don’t know when my mother will be back. I should be home before she gets there.”

Phantom scoffed. “Flower arranging? You really are a proper lady, aren’t you?”

I shook my head with a sigh. I enjoyed all my classes up to a point, but ballet lessons with Madame Morozova were the only ones that actually felt meaningful. The rest just seemed like vapid ways to occupy me when I wasn’t needed by my parents.

I was like an elegant set of porcelain, languishing away in a cabinet until someone brought it out to be polished for a special event.

“Well, I have to be there or my mother will know I’m up to something,” I said with a bitter smile. “Tomorrow, we’re going to the stables, but I’ll have the afternoon free since my mother will be visiting her friend. I thought… I might go shopping. And… I want to sell some of my jewelry for cash. In a pawn shop.”

The very idea of it excited me and made me a bit nauseous at the same time. I’d never been to a pawn shop, and it seemed dangerous and thrilling. I bit the inside of my cheek, watching Phantom to see if he would shoot my ideas down or ridicule me for being obviously excited about something so trivial.

But he grinned, nodding with enthusiasm.

“Now we’re talking! I’ll teach you how to drive a good bargain. You’ll get cash for all your illicit escapades, though after the library, I’m afraid what you’ll come up with to get your kicks. A church? A picnic? A visit to the zoo?”

A loud, happy laughter tore out of me. Phantom looked so seriously worried, and yet I knew he was joking good-naturedly, not at me but with me. I imagined going to all those places with him while he behaved like he did today, mouthing off, threatening poor librarians, snatching books out of my hands and calling my coffee unicorn’s shit. A warmth spread in my chest and I laughed harder.

“Oh, no,” he said with mock horror. “I just gave you ideas, didn’t I? You’ll have me feeding ducks in a park next! You cruel, cruel woman.”

I laughed until my stomach hurt, and then wiped my tears, still shaking with little bursts of mirth. I didn’t remember ever laughing like this as an adult, and I had a ridiculous urge to give Phantom a hug.

We met only yesterday, but from the very first moment, he eviscerated the distance between us until it almost felt like we were friends or something similar. It helped that he treated me with no respect at all. It was like he felt entitled to call me names, make fun of me, touch me without boundaries, and…

And I loved it. Everyone else, including my own parents, kept me at an arm’s length. He was the only person who pulled me closer.

When we got home, the security firm was just finishing up installing more cameras. Phantom told me there would be three guards on shift every night, two patrolling while one watched the screens. He’d be out there, too, watching out for me.

“He won’t hurt you again,” he said in a rare moment of seriousness. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Back home, I changed into a dress, so my mother wouldn’t see me wearing jeans, and Phantom settled into his room, unpacking a few boxes that were delivered for him. My mother gave him her old office downstairs, now unused because she hated working at home.

He sat in on my flower arranging lesson, making funny faces when my teacher’s back was to him. I had to work real hard to keep my face straight, and he didn’t let up until the last minute. It was the most fun I’d ever had while playing with hydrangeas.

My good humor lasted until my mother came home just in time for dinner. We ate together, and the atmosphere was so tense, the food curdled in my stomach. I could barely eat. She gave me cold looks and didn’t speak at all, while I tried to puzzle out what I had done again to displease her. I went almost crazy with guilt, fearing she’d found out about my trip to the library.

But when my mother finished her meal and wiped her mouth, she fixed me with a stern look.

“I thought you’d be working hard to repair your reputation, Barbara. Your mess has greatly affected us all. I’m disappointed all you’re doing is sitting at home and playing with bouquets. Do better.”

She left without a backward glance, leaving me there, confused and gaping. A dark, heaving pit opened in my stomach, rippling with pain and an overwhelming resentment at the injustice. Hadn’t she told me the PR team would handle it? Hadn’t I been attacked just yesterday ? I was a victim! What did she expect me to do, anyway?

The hurt welled in my chest until I couldn’t contain it. It buzzed and boiled when I tried to fall asleep, until I gave up and paced in my room in a frenzy of anxiety and rage. When I couldn’t handle it anymore, I went to see the only person who didn’t treat me like I was nothing more than an inconvenience.

Knowing it wasn’t appropriate and that he’d probably turn me away, I sought out Phantom.

I wore a thick, fluffy robe over my pajamas, my hair braided for bed. The house was quiet, though I was certain my father hadn’t come back yet. It was almost midnight.

I stood in front of Phantom’s door for a moment, fretting. Even though I needed to talk to someone who didn’t hate me and blame me for the smallest mistakes, seeking him out felt illicit. Besides, he was my bodyguard. Was it even fair to burden him with my shit?

Then again, he didn’t behave like a proper bodyguard. I clenched my teeth and knocked. Something in the room thudded, something clanged, and Phantom’s muffled voice followed.

“Be there in a minute!”

I heard a faint hiss, like he sprayed something in the room, and a moment later, he opened the door. The strong scent of male perfume hit me at once, and I coughed.

“Oh, it’s just you,” he said, pressing his knuckles to his bony temple. He seemed tired. “I shouldn’t have bothered. Well, come in.”

I followed him inside, closing the door behind me, and looked around. The room wasn’t much different from when my mother used it. A huge mahogany desk occupied the middle of the plush, green carpet, tall wooden cabinets lining the walls. A few shelves, previously empty, were now filled with books.

Phantom made other changes, too. He threw a black blanket over a huge modern art painting hanging right behind the desk, my mother’s pride and joy. When I turned to look at the door, I found a life-sized poster of a preening pin-up girl wearing a corset and sexy garters. She was blonde and voluptuous, oozing sexy confidence.

The only light came from an ornate desk lamp, making the atmosphere cozy and mellow.

While I took in the room, Phantom went over to the open window and half-sat on the wide windowsill, lighting a cigarette.

“Ah, you were smoking.” I finally understood why he’d sprayed the room with deodorant. He tried to cover up the scent.

He nodded, taking a long drag of the cigarette. “My shrink was very unhelpful today, so I’m trying to cope on my own.”

He studied the cigarette held between his armored fingers before looking up at me with a mild frown.

“Does it bother you? I can stop if you don’t want me to smoke around you.”

“Oh.” I smiled, a bit taken aback by his offer. “Since when are you so considerate? I bet my mother told you not to smoke inside, and you didn’t care.”

He shrugged. “Cause I don’t give a f—I don’t care about your mother. But if you tell me to stop, I will.”

A wave of warmth spread in my chest, finally allowing me to relax just a bit. I crossed the room to sit in a large, green armchair by the window.

“It’s okay. Can I stay with you for a bit? I won’t be a nuisance, I promise.”

He huffed out a small laugh, blowing smoke out of his nose hole. “Stay as long as you want, doll. We can plan that visit to church.”

I smiled, settling in until I was curled up in the armchair, my chin resting on my knees. Phantom gave me a long look and drew on his cigarette again. The tip burned bright orange.

“My mother thinks I should be trying to save my reputation. You know, after the video.”

He tipped his head back, blowing out smoke. “And what do you think?”

“That my reputation is a lie, anyway, so what does it matter?” I said softly, realizing it was the truth.

I frowned, trying to piece my thoughts together. It wasn’t easy, since I had to shush all the chiding voices that resided in my head and watched my every thought, hunting for flaws or dissent.

“Everything that’s ever been publicly said about me was performative,” I said slowly, thinking. “My every outing was carefully staged, every outfit prepared by a team of stylists, and I got coaching before every interview to say exactly the right things. The video… It was basically the same thing, only done to me by different people. I kind of get why my mother didn’t think it was a big deal. She does the same thing to me every day, except her control isn’t as violent.”

He watched me, the white bone of his face bathed in the golden light from the lamp.

“How does she control you?” he asked in a murmur before drawing in another lungful of smoke.

Shame rippled behind my sternum, and I looked away, wondering if he would laugh if I told him. When I looked up, Phantom stared out the open window, his profile calm and thoughtful. I decided to tell him.

“Mostly, it’s a habit,” I said, my throat tight. “I was brought up to follow directions. I’ve learned how to spot the signs of her displeasure early, you know? I always self-correct to keep her happy. Because when she isn’t happy with me, she… She knows what to say to make me really miserable. And also…”

I swallowed, shooting him a quick glance, but he still wasn’t looking at me. It gave me the confidence I needed to speak out.

“I rebelled a bit in high school. I wanted to party like other kids, wear dark lipstick, stuff like that. She didn’t care until some photos from a party got leaked, and then she lost it. She, um. She said I’d be sent to a mental institution. Showed me which one and told me my aunt had been sent there when she refused to marry the man my grandparents chose for her. I, uh, talked to my aunt after my mother told me.”

I swallowed, that conversation still lodged at the forefront of my mind like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

“Aunt Nina spent a few months there. She told me… Well, she didn’t remember much from her stay. See, they were drugging her. She got pills in the morning that kept her happy, then other pills at night to make her sleep, but every night… After she got the pill but before she fell asleep, a doctor would come in and tell her… things.

“He’d say she was misguided and infantile. That she couldn’t think for herself, and her parents only tried to look out for her. That she was helpless on her own and should follow directions because otherwise, she would just make mistakes all the time. Stuff like that. Stuff that finally got to her enough that she agreed to marry that man. She told me… She still remembers all those things. It’s like they are weeds in her mind, and she’s unable to pull them out.”

I fell silent, hugging my knees to my chest. Phantom said nothing, and I sighed, soothed by the smoky tang of his cigarette riding the chilly edge of the night air.

“I know how it sounds. It’s not like she was tortured. No one really hurt her, you know? But ever since… Ever since my mother said she would send me there, I’ve been terrified. I’m a coward, I know. It’s not like… Like I’m a child. I should have moved out long ago. I should have been strong. Found a way to make it impossible for her to do that to me.”

I chanced a look at him, wondering if our strange camaraderie would stop now. This wasn’t the type of thing you told people—I knew that, and I’d been taught to keep dirt in the family. But truth was, I desperately needed to talk to someone , and he was the only person available.

Phantom wasn’t staring out the window anymore. His eyes were focused on me, his eerie face frozen in a grin. I cringed, wondering why he was silent.

“Well, say something,” I murmured, fidgeting nervously.

He flicked his cigarette butt out the window and folded his arms, cocking his head to the side.

“I signed a document forbidding me from cussing. I can’t say any of the words I want to use now, doll.”

I huffed with relief. He still wanted to talk to me after this. That was a good sign.

“Well, say what you want when it’s just me,” I offered. “I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” he said, throwing his head back until his skull hit the wall with a thud. “Because you just told me the most fucked up shit I’ve ever heard and I’ll fucking explode if I can’t name it for what it is. Crazy psycho fuckery, that’s what. Your mother is a fucking loon.”

“Well, yeah,” I said, looking away uncomfortably. “Maybe. I mean… There is a certain logic to what she does. My father’s career…”

“Is not a good excuse to fucking threaten you,” he interrupted, red flashing in his eyes. “Fuck, doll. If you knew what I’m thinking right now, you would run. But I’m begging you to stay here, because if you’re gone, I’ll lose it. I will go to your mother’s bedroom and suffocate her with a pillow.”

I drew back, gasping at the ferocity in his voice. Phantom growled low in his throat, grabbed an ornamental paperweight from the desk, and flung it into the garden. It hit a tree with a deep thud.

When he turned back to me, his eyes glowed red.

“Stay here,” he said in a low, husky voice. “Promise me, doll.”