Quickly, he forced a smile onto his lips. "You're a lawyer, right?" Maybe it was too obvious, how suddenly he was steering the subject toward Nathan. But it was better than letting the silence grow unbearably heavy. "Do you keep criminals out of jail or something?"

Lola let out a mocking little snort. She didn't say anything.

Nathan shook his head, looking a little awkward. "No, nothing that exciting. I represent insurance companies or clients in claims. It's often the same stuff over and over." He shrugged. "It pays well."

"But it sounds like you wouldn't mind something more challenging?"

His eyes met Phantom's again. They weren't as blue as his sister's—leaning more towards gray. "Maybe. In the future. For now, I'm in a good spot. And you, uh..."

Phantom grinned when he seemed to lose track of what he wanted to say. "You wondering if I make my living dealing drugs and guns, being the criminal biker that I am?"

Nathan's cheeks flushed red. Kinda cute, actually. He looked down and mumbled, "That's not what I meant to ask."

Chuckling, Phantom picked up his coffee. "Our club owns a small music venue. I handle the scheduling, talk to the artists, manage the social media and website. All very legal." The Warriors unfortunately did deal drugs too. Luckily, they mostly assigned him to the tasks related to the legal side of the business. Not something Lola's brother needed to know.

Nathan had mustered the courage to look up again. "That actually sounds pretty cool." There was still a red tinge to his cheeks.

"Yeah, I like it. I only got my patch a few months ago,"—he tapped the leather badge on his chest—"and before that I had to wash bikes, tend bar, and do worse jobs, so it's definitely an upgrade."

"Did you guys meet through the club too?"

Phantom glanced sideways at Lola. Her job wasn't anything to be ashamed of, but with a lawyer for a brother, he could imagine she felt differently. Even if Nathan didn't seem like the judgmental type—there was no arrogance clinging to him.

"Yeah," she said. "They do open mic nights on Thursdays. I went once and that's how we met."

They'd gone a few times, true. But the first time they actually spoke had been when she'd shown up at his office to clean it. Clearly not something she wanted to bring up.

Another heavy silence followed. All the unsaid questions and remarks seemed to float through the air and stick to them, until no one dared to move. Unconsciously, Phantom wondered what a visit to his brother would've looked like—if he were still alive. But he couldn't picture it.

Next to him, he heard Lola swallow. Her hand started to tremble.

God, that girl was fighting so many battles inside. And he didn't understand a damn thing about them. He wanted to help—he could see her brother was lost too. And man, whatever was hanging between them, they needed to work through it. Cherish what he no longer had. Life could end at any moment. The tension felt like it was slicing off strips of his skin with every heartbeat.

He stood up.

Lola's fingers were still hooked into his, pulling down his right shoulder. Fear gleamed in her eyes. He sighed deeply and ran his free hand through his hair. "This is fucking awkward. Not just for me—for you two as well. You need to talk, man."

Lola's face darkened. She yanked her hand free. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"No, I don't!" he snapped—more sharply than he meant to. "I just see how you're tearing yourself apart inside and I have no clue what's going on. And if no one does anything, you'll leave this house again soon and feel no better than before you came in." He turned to Nathan. "So tell me. Why didn't you reach out for half a year? Her best friend was dead and—"

"I wasn't at home," Nathan interrupted. There was no regret beneath his words. They trembled with frustration instead. "I was away for the weekend with friends. As soon as I found out, I headed home right away, but it was a sixteen-hour drive. By the time I got there, Lola was already gone, and then she stopped responding. I tried to reach her for weeks, months, and she kept ghosting me—until a few days ago."

Lola flinched. Instead of Phantom's hand, she now clutched her own. "I... I needed space."

"Yeah, I noticed."

She wiped her eyes and drew in a shaky breath.

If Phantom thought this would make things less awkward, he'd been dead wrong. He felt totally exposed. It was Lola who'd kept her brother at a distance—not the other way around. Though his frustration started to flare, he pushed it as far away as possible. There was a reason she'd shut him out. Clearly not because she thought he was a jerk.

Was it because of her anxiety? That was why she'd fled. Her best friend had been in her car. The moment the thought crossed his mind, he knew it was true. She believed Death had targeted her—that it had claimed her friend instead—and so she cut off all contact so it wouldn't happen again and ran as far away as possible.

"You were trying to protect him," he said softly.

A few tears had found their way out by now. With trembling fingers, she brushed them aside.

"Protect me? From what, Lo? Are you in trouble? Is that why you're with a biker—because he can protect you?"

"No, no. It's... Ugh, I don't want to explain everything. But, yeah, I thought it'd be better to keep my distance. And if you knew what—no, never mind."

Nathan got up from his chair. He knelt in front of her and rested his hand on the edge of the couch. "Just tell me."

"There's no point. I just want to forget about it. Whatever I was scared of, that's in the past. That's why I'm here. That's why I reached out again. Can we please... just talk about something else?" She scooted over and stood up too. "I need some air. I—I'll be back in a minute."

Phantom hesitated. Should he go after her or not?

In the end, he decided to give her some space. He'd kind of forced this conversation to happen. He didn't get the sense that she was angry with him, but still. She walked to the back door. Through the glass, he saw her sink into a chair outside and stare blankly ahead.