Page 44 of Ghosted

“Frequently.”

“And arrogant.”

“Constantly.”

“And you need to leave.”

“Eventually.”

“What do you want, Johnny?” she asks, and this time her tone has less bite and more warning.

“I wanted to see what my brother was losing his mind over.”

Her face does this small, satisfying thing. Not enough for most people to catch. Enough for me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.

“Sure you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Pretty girl, Jagger has the subtlety of a brick through a windshield when he’s pretending not to care.”

A laugh slips out before she can stop it, and then she looks mad about it, which only makes the whole thing better.

I point at her. “See? You know.”

“I know he’s intense.”

“Intense.” I make a face. “That’s awfully polite.”

“What would you call him?”

“Emotionally constipated with violent tendencies and terrible communication skills.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“I’ve had twenty-three years to study the subject.”

Her fingers relax slightly around the camera strap, but her eyes stay sharp. “And you came down here to what exactly? Warn me?”

“No.”

“Oh good, cause I wasn’t going to listen, or thank you.”

“I came down here because you got his attention, and that means you got mine.” I lean forward a little, keeping my smile easy because easy makes people nervous when they know better. “Congratulations, Alice. Terrible prize, but it’s yours now.”

She stares at me for a second, and for the first time tonight, the attitude slips enough for me to see the caution underneath. Not fear. Alice doesn’t scare the easy way. She measures first. Decides if the danger is worth standing near.

That must drive Jagger fucking insane.

It’s starting to do something irritating to me too.

“I don’t give a shit about whatever brother rivalry I accidentally stepped into,” she says.

“Accidentally?”

“Yes.”