Page 43 of Phantom Flower

“Oh,” he said suddenly. “You’re not going to like this.”

I stopped mid-step, gloves still raised. Alexei lowered his hands and turned toward him.

I pulled my mouthguard out. “Like what?”

Ilya was staring at his phone, thumb scrolling slowly. His expression had gone from bored to something else.

“Ilya,” I said. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

He finally looked up and turned the phone around without a word.

The video was already playing.

It was dark. Grainy. Shot from what looked like a distance, through trees. The sound was muffled at first, but then it cleared enough for me to hear it.

Wet, choking sounds.

A figure was on his knees in the dirt, head tilted back, throat working. Someone was fucking his mouth. The person on their knees had silver hair, pale skin, and a flower clipped near his ear that had fallen sideways.

It was Rei.

The video angle did not show the face of the man standing. And it did not show what was actually in his mouth.

Because it was not a cock.

It was my gun.

But from this angle, in this lighting, with the way Rei’s throat was bulging and saliva was dripping down his chin, it looked exactly like someone was throat-fucking him with a dick.

Ilya let out a low whistle. “Well. That’s something.”

Alexei stepped closer to look.

Ilya grinned, but it did not reach his eyes. “Are you jealous, Dima? Aww. Someone else got to play with your favorite toy in the woods?”

Alexei took the phone from Ilya and squinted at the screen. He watched for a few more seconds, then said flatly, “That is him.”

Ilya leaned in again, squinting. “Wait. Fuck. You’re right. Damn. I didn’t recognize him at first. Good eyes, Lex.”

Alexei rolled his eyes and shoved the phone back at him. “You’re blind.”

Ilya shrugged. “Who the fuck filmed this?”

I had the same question. That part of the woods was abandoned. There was no one there.

Ilya tilted his head, watching the video loop again. “Could be some random pervert who got lucky with the angle. Or…” He glanced at me. “Someone who knew exactly what they were looking for.”

My hands were shaking inside the gloves.

I ripped them off and threw them to the floor of the ring.

Ilya kept talking. “We need to find out who has this. How many copies are floating around. If this gets out properly, it’s going to be everywhere. Your father may recognize you the same way Alexei did.”

“Could be anyone,” Alexei said. “Someone from school. Someone who saw them leave together that day. Someone who followed.”

I was already climbing out of the ring.

He hated attention.