Phantom Rider - The Reckoning | Book 2

#8 | The Vengeance

Mila's POV, Tokyo

Tom was still lying on the couch, not doing much and barely speaking to me. For days, he had existed in this strange, twilight state - neither fully awake nor asleep -as if suspended between life and death. On day three, I was done waiting. He seemed like he had finally clawed his way back from the edge of his near-overdose. It was time to give him another hit.

I sat cross-legged on the floor beside the couch where he slept and waited. He said nothing. I kept waiting. Finally, he asked, "Where is Bill?"

I knew he would ask that, and I waited for him unknowingly to open the floodgate. I kept my face neutral, but it was time. I wasn't sure how he would react, but I was ready.

I clenched my jaw. Here we go.

"Bill's in Prague," I said flatly, not looking at him. My voice carried the weight of something much worse.

Tom sat up slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "What?"

"He's been in Prague for a while," I repeated, feeling the ice in my voice now. "With Taylor."

Tom blinked, pushing himself up more. "Taylor... my Taylor?"

I nodded, refusing to look him in the eyes. "Yeah."

"So, he's looking for me?" His voice softened, tinged with a hope I was about to kill. "He's there, waiting for me? Helping her, taking care of things while I'm stuck in this shit?"

I steeled myself. "No."

His breath hitched. His eyes darkened as reality started to seep in. "Why are you here, Mila? Why aren't you with him?"

"Bill and I... we broke up," I said as casually as I could.

Tom blinked, the fog in his mind starting to clear as the words sank in. "So you're here, and Bill is there, waiting for me, taking care of Taylor for me?"

My stomach twisted at the lie he was trying to tell himself. I bit my lip hard before spitting out the rest. "It's not like that, Tom."

Tom sat up fully now, his voice rising, his stare drilling into me like he could tear the truth out of my skull. "Then what the fuck is it like?"

I looked into his eyes, inhaled deeply, and spat it out. "Bill... he's not just there. They're together. It's not innocent. They're... fucking."

Tom's eyes went wide, and he stared at me as if he hadn't heard me right. He blinked again, slowly. For a moment, time stood still. His face became a blank canvas, devoid of any emotion. He was waiting for me to say it was a joke. But the joke never came. We were the clowns of this story.

"And he's been taking care of your kid," I added, part of my own pain spilling out. Saying it aloud felt like tearing open a fresh wound, but it had to be said.

Tom's face twisted as the hope wore out, and something much uglier took its place. His breathing grew harsher. He pushed himself off the couch, standing unsteadily, the veins in his neck popping out. He was about to break.

"That's not possible. Bill wouldn't—" He was still in denial. "He wouldn't do that to me. He wouldn't fucking do that! He—he's my brother, Mila! We've been through everything together!"

I got up from the floor to be on the same level as him in case he decided to lash out at me. "Tom, I didn't want to believe it either, but it's true. I saw them."

Tom froze, his eyes flickering with desperation. "You're lying. You're just... this is some kind of sick revenge, isn't it? You want me to apologize for shooting you? Is that it?"

"Tom, stop! This isn't about me." Yes, I wanted an apology, but this was not the time. "You think I want to stand here and tell you that my Bill, the man I love - betrayed both of us? I wish I was lying, Tom. I really fucking do. But it's real."

Tom's face contorted, and he started yelling, disbelief breaking into pure, unfiltered rage. "No! I'm gonna fucking kill him!"

"Tom—"

"I'm gonna find him, and I'm gonna rip his fucking head off!" he roared, grabbing the edge of the couch and shoving it aside with violent force. His breathing was erratic, his eyes wild. "HE'S TAKING CARE OF MY KID WHILE HE FUCKS MY WIFE?"

He started pacing the room, his hands shaking as he raged. "Where the fuck is my gun?"

"Tom, don't—"

"Shut the fuck up, Mila!" he screamed, his bloodshot eyes snapping to me. "Don't fucking Tom me! He's out there, playing house with my family, always pretending to be the good guy while he stabs me in the fucking back!!"

His fist collided with the wall, and blood trickled down his knuckles. But he didn't seem to care. He kept pacing, kept seething. "I trusted him! I've been searching for him, looking for him, and the whole time he's been playing fucking house in Prague?"

"A month," I said quietly, venom in my voice. "He's been there a month."

He was seconds away from completely losing it, and I sort of enjoyed it.

"Fuck that!" Tom roared, his eyes wild with the kind of anger that had no leash. "This isn't happening. It can't be. My own brother wouldn't do this to me. Wouldn't."

"He did," I wanted to join his fury too, but one of us had to act normal, and why did it always have to be me? Yet I kept pouring gasoline on the already burning rage pushing him forward. "And he's been doing it for a while."

In some way, I wanted Tom to take the lead and do it so I wouldn't have to. I wanted Tom to teach Bill a lesson, but I didn't want him to kill his own brother. Yet, deep down, I knew he wasn't going to do it.

He stormed toward the closet, yanking the door open, ripping through the contents. "Where's my gun? Where the FUCK is my gun?"

"How could he do this?" he kept shouting.

I carefully moved closer. "Because he's selfish. Because he doesn't care about anyone but himself."

He grabbed his car keys off the counter, his eyes locking with mine, blazing with hatred.

"I'm going to kill him. I'm gonna make him pay for every fucking second of this."

"Tom, wait—" I shouted at him. "Where do you think you're going? Prague is thousands of kilometers away!"

He stormed past me, completely ignoring me. I stood frozen for a split second before grabbing my own keys and bolting after him.

This is going to be a mess.