Page 26 of Ghost Ribbon

Tears streamed silently down my cheeks. I kept apologizing over and over, my free hand gripping my knee so hard my nails left marks.

“Rei, I am so sorry. This is all my fault—”

“Marco, stop,” Rei’s voice came through the phone, tired but still gentle. “It is not your fault. That asshole was hurting you. I wasn’t going to stand there and watch.”

“But you got suspended because of me,” I whispered, voice cracking. “You always have to protect me because I am too weak to do it myself. I hate it. I hate that you get hurt because I can’t defend myself. I am sorry. I am so sorry.”

There was a pause on the other end. I could hear him sigh. “Hey. Sunshine. Listen to me. You are not weak. You stood up for me back there. You told him to stop when he brought me into it. That took guts.”

I shook my head even though he couldn’t see it. He continued, “Suspension is just a week. I will be back before you know it. Just… stay safe until then. And text me if anything happens.”

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “Okay. I will. I just…”

“Now go eat something with your mom. She will worry if you skip dinner again.”

I was so used to letting things pass. Back in Italy, in every school before Bloodburn, it had been the same. Dragged around, shoved into walls, hit in the hallways, called every degrading name imaginable. I had learned early on to keep my head down, endure quietly, and wait for the storm to blow over.

When I moved to New York with my parents after being offered the scholarship, I had braced myself for the exact same treatment, expecting to become an easy target because of my size, my ribbons, my scholarship status, the way I looked.

But strangely, it hadn’t been like that. Not really. There had been stares and whispers, sure, but no one had laid hands on me. Not until today. Brad’s sudden attack had been the first real violent incident since I started here. It felt off. Unusual. Maybe it was because Rei had always been right beside me, acting as a protective presence that made others think twice.

Or maybe… maybe it was something else.

I glanced at the notebook still on my desk, the one with the blood-smeared pages. Alexei’s blood. I hadn’t told Rei about it. I couldn’t. The thought of involving him more than he already was made my chest tighten with guilt.

What if Brad attacking me today wasn’t random? What if Alexei had something to do with it? What if he was tired of waiting and decided to push me into the open, to see how I would react, to remind me that even when he wasn’t touching me, he could still control the world around me?

The idea made me sick.

I pulled the blanket tighter around myself and whispered into the empty room.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry.”

But I didn’t even know who I was apologizing to anymore.

Chapter 7 - Alexei

I felt anger. Burning fucking anger.

For two days I had been absent, but the moment I stepped back into Bloodburn’s halls that morning, I saw my little star walking alone down the corridor. A new notebook was clutched tightly to his chest and, to my fucking surprise, there were marks around his throat.

Someone had wrapped their fingers around that fragile neck and squeezed. I was always empty. Always bored. The world was a gray stage of predictable weakness and fleeting entertainment. But this… this ignited something primal and possessive. The thing inside me twisted violently at the thought of another person marking what was mine.

I walked up to him and yanked him sideways, pulling his body into the nearest empty classroom. I released his wrist only after I had him backed up against one of the desks, and stared him down.

Marco clutched the new notebook even tighter to his small chest. He looked so fragile.

“Wh… what do you want?” he stuttered, cracking on the words the way he always did when he was near me.

It was kind of cute.

I brought one hand up and caressed the side of his neck with my fingertips. The touch was deceptively gentle at first, tracing the skin before brushing over the bruised marks. Marco shivered violently under my hand, shrinking further against the desk, trying to pull away even as my fingers followed.

I studied the fingerprints intently, my thumb pressing lightly into one of the darker spots. The sight of another man’s violence on his fragile throat made my jaw clench. This was my territory. My little star. No one else was allowed to leave evidence on him.

“Who did this to you?” I asked, voice low.

He looked up through dark lashes, shy and terrified, full lips trembling. “I… I don’t think that is your business…”