Relentlessly Vengeful Ghost (Mafia Bound #5)

Prologue

GHOST

Everything hurts. My muscles quake and tense painfully with endless shivers I can’t control.

I don’t know how I can feel so fucking cold when only a few minutes ago I was so hot that I couldn’t breathe.

I still can’t breathe, but it feels different now.

I open my mouth, desperately trying to draw air into my lungs, but they refuse to be filled.

It’s like I’m underwater, but I don’t think I am.

I reach out, feeling for something, anything to tell me where I am, to ground me, but nothing seems real.

The only things that exist are memories and pain, and mostly they’re the same thing.

I can hear laughter echoing in my ears. Cruel, taunting laughter that makes my skin crawl and my stomach cramp again. Bile burns on its way up, but it gets caught in my throat, making the next breath I try to drag in even more impossible.

I’m going to die.

That thought is the only thing I’m sure is real as I tremble and gasp, trapped inside the hellish memory of hands groping at my body, people tearing my clothes off and forcing themselves inside of me.

I think I cried, but I’m not sure anymore.

It wouldn’t have mattered if I had. Someone wrenched my mouth open and poured sour tasting booze inside while more booming laughter sounded.

I drifted in and out then, unsure what was really happening and what was a nightmare.

It’s all the same really, isn’t it? I tried to tell them I couldn’t breathe, but I couldn’t get the words out.

That wouldn’t have mattered either. I don’t know how long it went on.

An hour? All night? And I’m not sure how I got here…

wherever I am. I do know what happens to the Sleepless Reapers’ playthings when they’re done with them though.

How many junkies just like me did I see torn apart by those jackals, then tossed over the back of a bike, barely conscious, and taken away?

More than I can count. They never came back and I never tried to find out what happened to them.

I think I already knew. I think I didn’t want to know.

Because every time it happened, part of me knew that one day it would be me.

But every time one of them handed me a pipe or a needle, I took it and I stopped worrying about what would happen later.

It’s later now, and there won’t be any more laters after this.

Something wet hits my forehead with a splash, and then another and another. Rain. It’s raining. I force my eyes open to see the gray sky overhead, grass and dirt rising on either side of me, concealing me from anyone who might be driving by, even if they bothered to look.

No one will look for me. I’ve been dead for a long time. I’ve been dead to my family since the day I picked up a pipe. I’ve been dead to myself too, I think. I can hardly remember my own name. I can’t remember who I used to be. All I can remember now is pain.

Maybe death won’t be so bad. It has to be better than dying, right?

I gasp for another breath that doesn’t come, and I focus on the coldness of the rain hitting my skin faster and faster.

I’m not religious, but it feels like a baptism.

All my sins are being washed away, but I can’t die in peace.

There is no peace in knowing that I’m not the first and I won’t be the last. There’s no comfort in dying here while the Sleepless Reapers find a new victim to sleep in my bed and pass around until they’re done with him too.

Rage won’t save me. Nothing will.

I close my eyes again and welcome the darkness. I can barely feel the cramping in my muscles now, or even the cold. There’s only darkness and glorious nothingness pulling me deeper and deeper.

Everything hurts.

My muscles ache, my skin feels tender and bruised, even my teeth hurt.

It shouldn’t hurt anymore, but I can’t remember why.

I drag in a deep breath, and the air fills my lungs.

It shouldn’t be a shock or a relief, but it is, and I can’t remember why that is either.

I crack my eyes open just a fraction and flinch.

It’s so bright that it hurts all the way to the backs of my eyes and inside my brain.

Everything is so white. It’s the steady beep, beep, beep that creeps its way into my brain and slowly clicks into place.

A hospital. I’m in a hospital.

But why?

“Oh, you’re awake,” a high feminine voice says cheerfully.

I wince again. How can sounds hurt?

“Mm.” I grunt and ease my eyes open another millimeter. “Wha—” My throat is painfully dry and full of razor blades.

The nurse comes into view, blurry at first until my eyes adjust. She sets a plastic cup on the tray next to my bed.

“Take small sips,” she instructs.

I nod, and I swear I can feel my brain rattling back and forth inside my skull with the motion. I do as she says, taking small sips until they don’t hurt quite so badly, then I set the cup back down.

“What happened?” I rasp.

She has kind eyes. They’re full of pity that doesn’t sit right with me, but kind all the same.

“Drug overdose,” she says. I can’t tell if there’s judgment in her voice or if the shame and guilt is all on my end.

Is that who I am? I frantically probe my aching, uncooperative brain for confirmation, but it’s completely blank.

“You were dead when the ambulance arrived. You must have a guardian angel. If whoever called had waited any longer, the EMTs wouldn’t have been able to revive you.

” She pats my hand gently, careful to avoid the IVs and various devices attached to me.

“You didn’t have any ID on you, so we’ve got you listed as a John Doe. Do you happen to know your name?”

My mind stays unnervingly blank. As far as it’s concerned, I was born the minute I opened my eyes in this hospital room. No name, no past, just pain.

I shake my head slowly, and she gives me a sympathetic smile.

“It’s not uncommon. In most cases, your memories should return, but based on the injuries you came in with, you might be better off if some things stay forgotten.”

I swallow hard and the beeping of the heart monitor gets faster. She pats my hand again.

“The doctor will be in shortly to examine you. Unfortunately, without any identification and no health insurance, we can only keep you until you’re stable, and then we have to send you along to the local shelter.

So relax for now, but try real hard to remember if you have any family members we might be able to track down, okay? ”

I nod again, the pain turning into a stark numbness.

She leaves the room, her words replaying in my head on a loop…