Ghost’s annoyance at having to come get his best mate’s little sister in the middle of the night in the freezing winter temperatures immediately morphed into something else as he took in your appearance when he pulled up. His heart dropped. You were sat on the curb, barefoot and in merely thin pajamas. But what made Ghost’s heart drop were the fresh bruises on your face, split eyebrow and a busted lip, both still actively bleeding. “Who did this to you?” He said in a low voice, deadly serious.