Lola's story kept echoing through Phantom's mind. Under different circumstances, he might have brushed off her fear, but her screams when she woke from that nightmare had cut straight through him. That wasn't normal.

Whether it was something supernatural or just trauma from losing her friend—either way, she needed help. A quick search online had told him there were more than fifty churches in this city, and he had no clue what kinds of denominations they all belonged to, or where they'd even be welcome.

The only times he'd ever stepped into a church had been for funerals.

He figured he needed advice from someone who'd grown up in the area. None of his brothers really struck him as having religious backgrounds, and eventually, only one person came to mind: Diana, Alvarez's wife. As the president's Old Lady, she was something of a 'mother figure' to the charter, though she wasn't one to linger around the clubhouse late into the night. Still, every Friday she showed up to cook with the other women—shared meals had become a thing.

It was a tradition that had started just a few months ago, not long after Raine had left. Almost like that departure had been a wake-up call—time to build unity again, but in a different way than running a business together, riding out, or doing shady deals.

After dinner, Phantom brought his new girlfriend into the kitchen, greeting the woman there with a slightly nervous smile. He hadn't really spoken with her before, but there was something warm and familiar about her. Sadly, her son didn't seem to have inherited any of her good qualities.

"This is Lola," Phantom introduced. "My, uh, old lady."

The words felt awkward on his tongue, like his mouth wanted to reject the term altogether.

"How lovely!" Diana spread her arms and pulled Lola into a hug. "Lucky you," she added with a wink at Lola.

"For sure." Lola smiled. The shadows that Phantom now knew were always clinging to her, had been expertly tucked away again. "I'd love to help out with cooking next time!"

"Well, any help is always welcome." Diana draped a motherly arm around her shoulders, and Phantom saw right away that she'd taken a liking to her.

He tried to catch Lola's eye. Even though he'd introduced them, he wasn't exactly sure how to bring up the whole Death is following me situation. It had been his idea to reach out for help. From what he'd gathered, Diana was involved in a lot of volunteer work and was well-liked. She might even be the club's best PR card among regular folks.

"We were hoping you might be able to give us some advice," Phantom said eventually, when Lola didn't show signs of speaking up herself. "It's just..." He glanced around. A couple of the club girls were doing the dishes. "Private."

"Ah, I see." Her eyes dropped down to Lola's stomach.

Phantom's eyes widened. Wait—did she think he'd gotten her pregnant? The idea made his ears burn. He didn't want her to think he was the kind of guy who wouldn't take responsibility. "No," he blurted. "She's not pregnant."

Lola's cheeks turned red. "What? No, of course not."

The woman chuckled. "You wouldn't be the first Warrior to suddenly make his girl his Old Lady because of that."

Phantom quickly shook his head. "No, it's something else."

"All right. Let's go to my office then, it's empty now." She was still chuckling softly, clearly amused by their reactions.

Phantom nodded, relieved to get out of the kitchen. He was pretty sure the girls doing dishes had heard the entire exchange. The gossip was probably already spreading before they'd even reached the offices.

They left the kitchen and turned right. Phantom was glad they didn't have to go through the main clubhouse, but could reach the office through the storage area, avoiding any awkward questions from the guys about why he was walking off with Diana. When the hallway veered toward the club rooms, Phantom led the others down the stairs into the storage area. It was dim and cool, stocked with crates of beer and occasionally used for motorcycle maintenance.

Or for beating people up.

Across from them was a big rolling door. Phantom headed toward the left-hand wall, where a door led to a narrow corridor with four rooms. On the right were the president's office—with a large safe inside—and Diana's office. She and George managed the finances for both the concert hall and the nightclub, and she also served as head of HR for both businesses. Across the hall was Phantom's own office—marked "Planning & PR"—and the last room housed surveillance, where several screens showed security footage. Martinez often sat there, slouched in a chair, clinging to a sense of importance even in his seventies. Phantom figured the man didn't have much outside of the club and tried to hold on to whatever tasks didn't require too much physical effort.

Diana unlocked her office door and let them in. Unlike his own, this room had two desks and a table with four chairs. She pulled one back and sat down. Phantom and Lola followed suit.

"I have to admit, I'm curious," Diana said with a glimmer in her eyes.

Lola looked down. "It's... not exactly a fun story. And you might think it's ridiculous."

"Doubt it, sweetheart. Want some water? You look a little pale."

Phantom hadn't really noticed how tense Lola was. He placed his hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. She nodded at him with a trembling smile.

After Diana handed her a glass and she took a few sips, she seemed to calm down a bit.

"Do you want to tell her yourself?" Phantom asked.

She stared into her glass. "I'd rather not."

Phantom hoped he could explain it just as clearly as she could. It had mostly been her emotions that made him take her so seriously. "Are you... spiritual at all?" he began. Maybe he didn't need to go into full detail.

Diana frowned. "Spiritual?"

Phantom couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at his lips, even given the seriousness of the situation. "Probably not the kind of topic you expected. Lola's been having intense nightmares. Death keeps showing up in them—ever since she started dabbling in tarot cards. Her best friend, who was also involved, well... she's already passed away." He bit the inside of his cheek. Shit, this sounded like a mess. "Anyway, long story short, we thought it might be a good idea to get help. Maybe from a priest or someone like that. We haven't lived here long and have no idea where to even start. And since you have a lot of friends and connections around here... maybe you know of a place that does, I don't know, exorcisms or... can cleanse her with holy water or something?" He was starting to feel nervous now.

What if she thought it was ridiculous that he was even entertaining this? This wasn't the kind of thing the other Warriors would do. They'd probably just call her dramatic.

"I understand," Diana said, to his relief. "I'm so sorry, Lola. That must be so frightening—and losing your friend on top of that... I can't imagine how hard it's been for you."

Lola looked up at her through her lashes. Tears clung to the small, dark hairs.

"This Wednesday I'm helping with a clothing drive for El Cielo—a church about ten minutes from here. If you'd like, you can come with me? We could ask around there."

Phantom felt Lola's fingers relax under his hand. "Yes, I'd really appreciate that. Thank you."

Diana stood up, walked around the table, and opened her arms. "Come here, sweetheart. I don't know if they can do anything to make you feel safer, but if not, I'm sure they'll know someone who can."

Lola stood and allowed herself to be pulled into the woman's arms.

For a moment, it looked just like a mother comforting her daughter.

He couldn't help wondering where Lola's own mother was. Why it was a stranger holding her now, instead of someone from her own family. Why she hadn't been able to turn to her with her fears.