Page 58 of Phantom Flower

Now it was time to fucking break someone’s face.

I shoved the phone into my pocket and stood up. Ilya’s head snapped up, pliers still in his hand, blood on his knuckles. “Hey! Where are you going?! Hey!?”

His voice followed me toward the door, but it was already fading under the rain. Alexei’s car was long gone from the lot. I got into my own car and drove like a maniac.

My mind would not stop replaying the photo. Rei sitting there alone. That guy watching him. What was he saying right now? Was Rei smiling back? Was he letting the guy buy him another drink? Was he ignoring my messages because he was having too much fun?

He was mine.

I killed the engine when I arrived and stepped out, heading toward the entrance.

Out of the corner of my eye, near the side of the house, Alexei had Marco by the throat. One hand clamped tight around the guy’s neck, dragging him backward like a sack of meat toward the corner of the garage. Marco’s feet scrambled, hands clawing at Alexei’s wrist, face already going red. Alexei’s expression was stone cold as he hauled Marco out of sight.

What the fuck?

My brain tried to spin it, but there was no time. My little fairy was somewhere inside that house, and after the photo I had seen, god only knew how many drunk, horny idiots were already eyeing him, circling like sharks.

I left. Whatever Alexei was doing with Marco could wait. Rei could not.

I pushed through the front door without knocking. A drunk girl in a tiny dress and smeared lipstick spotted me and lit up like I was the answer to her prayers. She stumbled straight into my path, hands grabbing my jacket, pressing her tits against my chest.

“Heyyy, you’re hot. Dance with me? Or we could go upstairs—”

“Fuck off,” I growled, shoving her back hard enough that she nearly fell into a group of laughing guys. She pouted but did not follow.

I kept moving. Living room, dining room, kitchen. Too many faces, none of them silver-haired with a flower tucked behind one ear. Where the fuck was he?

Then I spotted the girl from the photo. The one who had been wrapped around Marco, her mouth on his neck. She was sitting on the bottom of the stairs now, arms wrapped around her knees, staring at the floor like the world had ended. Mascara running, lips trembling. She looked wrecked.

I crossed to her in three strides and crouched down so we were eye level.

“Have you seen Rei?”

She blinked up at me. “Who?”

Jesus Christ.

“Japanese guy. A little taller than you. Silver hair. Always wears a flower in it. Looks like a fucking fairy.”

Her face scrunched like she was trying to think through the alcohol. “Ah… yeah. I saw him go to the bathroom a while ago. Like… ten minutes? Maybe more. He looked kinda out of it.”

Out of it. What the fuck did that mean?

I nodded once, stood up, and headed for the bathroom. The music was still pounding, but I could hear something else now. Something that sounded like a body hitting tile.

I kicked the door open.

Two figures inside.

Rei, my Rei, pinned against the sink by some greasy-haired asshole in a cheap button-up. The guy had Rei’s wrist in a death grip, other hand on his shoulder, shoving him back.

His free hand was weakly pushing at the guy’s chest, but there was no strength in it. He looked drunk. No, worse. Drugged.

The other guy was standing nearby, one hand on the sink, watching with a sick little grin. Waiting his turn.

I saw fucking red.

I grabbed the guy pinning Rei by the back of the neck and the belt loop of his jeans, yanked him off my fairy, and slammed his face straight into the mirror above the sink.