Page 108 of Phantom

“Scarlo!” I stop immediately and spin around at Jaime’s tenor voice cutting strongly through the din echoing from down the hall. He’s looking sharp in the three-piece metallic suit I saw him in earlier, but his fervent glance around puts me on edge.

“Has he talked to you?” His eyes are wide behind his silver mask.

“Who?”

“Mr. Bor–Sol. Did he… did he explain?”

I purse my lips. “Gonna need a little more to go on, Jaime.”

He sighs. “I told him to give you another chance.”

“You told Sol Bordeaux, the Phantom of the French Quarter, what to do?”

“I had to. He’s convinced you’ve made your choice. Poor broken bastard thinks that since you saw underneath his mask that you can’t stand him.”

“What? That’s not it at all. What I couldn’t stand is the way he orchestratedmy life, hired a friend for me, and then punched him for no reason!”

“No, fuck. Listen, Scarlo. He asked me to stay away from you this week, since you asked for your privacy, and I’ve been trying my best. But you’re my best friend, so I’ve got to tell it to you straight. The way you guys played together last week was incredible. I’ve never seen you light up like that on any stage or for anyone. If someone in this shitty world can do that for you, you have to keep them.”

“Jaime, he manipulated me—”

“Yes, heprotectedyou, but he never controlled you or took your decisions away. As for me… I’m sorry I ever made you think our friendship wasn’t real. Sol just asked me to watch over you, not steal you as my best friend and never give you up. I did all that on my own. Myjobwas to protect you when he couldn’t. That’s all.”

“Okay, so what about punching you?” I ask, my nose scrunched as I try to take all this information in. “Why did he do that?’

“I fucked up. I thought it was Sol because of his ring but I was wrong.”

“What? How do you know? Didn’t you see his face?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “It was dark and it was my third day straight of getting shit-faced because I felt guilty for not sticking up for you. The guy was wearing a hoodie and a mask that looked like him, so I assumed it was Sol. But see—” He points to his healing bruise where a skull imprint used to be a week ago. “If the Phantom had done it, then I’d still have a nasty skull-shaped scar. He doesn’t pull his punches. He also reached out to check on me and—”

I shake my head. “Wait, so you’re telling me that there’s a… copycat Phantom of the French Quarter?”

“Yeah, I guess you can say that.”

“Why would a copycat come after you? And how could he have a mask with Ben’s face?”

“One of his shadows has gone missing—” My eyes flare, but he keeps going. “We haven’t been able to find him, so maybe someone got a hold of his mask somehow? That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Whoever this is was trying to turn you and me against him. And it worked.”

Hope unfurls in my chest like a flame. I tried to push Sol away from the beginning, never giving him my full trust. And I realized this week that Sol was right about me loving his possessive, primal side. It was finding out he’d hired a friend for me and then beat that friend up that had been my final straw.

But what if he was framed? Knowingly or not, I’ve been able to trust Sol, my demon of music for almost a year. What if I had trusted him on this? We’d still be together, but now… Could he forgive me for doubting him?

My hand clasps my necklace over my chest, as if it could hold me back from sprinting to him right now and begging for forgiveness. I can’t be too hasty, though. There’s still one huge question that needs to be answered.

“But… who would do that?”

Jaime’s jaw tics as he leans in. “Scarlo, let’s be real. I think there’s one person in particular who would—”

“Jaime, what are you doing with my date?”

My best friend tenses and sidesteps away from me, revealing Rand. A sour look has his face twisted and his arms are crossed over his red suit. He glances up and down at me. “You okay?”

“Sure she’s okay.” Jaime smiles and throws his arm over my shoulder. “She’s just chatting with her bestie. Got a problem with that?”

“Her bestie? Where have you been all week while she’s been upset? And what does your boss think about you being all over his former obsession?” Rand’s smug tone slithers up my back, making my stomach knot.

Jaime shrugs. “He couldn’t care less about her now. He’ll probably be under a tourist by midnight tonight. They’ve always been his favorite.”