Chapter 10 #2
I see a few people eye my suit, my watch, maybe even the telltale bulge of my pistol under my suit jacket, and I smirk to myself when each of them decides I’m not worth fucking with. Also a smart choice.
There’s a flickering glow coming from the alley between two buildings up ahead, like a light that’s not quite ready to commit to burning out just yet, but it’s done trying to be useful.
Just as I start to pass it without giving it a second thought, a pained grunt draws my attention and I slow my steps.
Whatever’s going on down there isn’t any of my business, and frankly it would be a full-time fucking job to make every mugging or assault my problem.
So, it takes me a few seconds to work out why I slow down at all, until my gaze lands on two Harleys parked nearby.
Plenty of people ride motorcycles in this city, and they don’t look the least bit out of place on West Hamilton, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand up anyway and an excited flutter tugs at the pit of my stomach.
I couldn’t be lucky enough to stumble across The Ghost in action, could I?
I doubt it, but it would be stupid to not at least take a quick peek to make sure.
I unholster my gun and hold it down by my side as I quietly slip into the alley for a better look.
It smells like piss and garbage and the gravel crunches under my careful footsteps.
“Here,” I hear a muffled voice say, “take this money, buy a bus ticket, and go home. Trust me, there’s nothing but death and destruction down the path you’re on right now.”
There’s a quiet sniffle and then footsteps move rapidly towards me. I dart out of the way, ducking behind a dumpster seconds before a small figure sprints past, shrouded in shadows, and disappears.
What the hell did I walk into here? I stay low but crane my neck to peek around the dumpster.
In the halo of the flickering light, two men are kneeling with their hands behind their backs.
Another jolt of excitement rushes through me.
Without a doubt, they’re Reapers. Which means The Ghost must be here too.
I try to lean farther out to get a look, but the gravel shifts under my feet, making too much noise.
One of the Reapers looks in my direction, a spark of hope in his eyes like he thinks someone is sneaking down the alley to save him.
Not a fucking chance. A hand darts into my field of view, wearing a black leather glove and clutching a pistol with a silencer attached.
The Ghost.
He pistol whips the bald Reaper right across the face, eliciting another pained grunt and drawing his attention away from me.
“No one is coming to save you,” The Ghost growls in a low, menacing voice that sends a hot tremor down my spine that goes straight to my dick.
Shit, why do I feel like I’m cheating on Spettro right now?
I reach down to squeeze my swelling cock through my pants and hold my breath as a shadow looms over the Reapers.
I’ll let The Ghost finish what he started, and then I’ll let him know I’m here.
I’ll deliver the message that he needs to get it together and stop being so sloppy if he wants to stay out of trouble, but there’s no reason I can’t enjoy the show in the meantime.
He doesn’t waste any more time taunting the Reapers.
He doesn’t monologue or tell them why they’re here, on their knees in a reeking alley, staring down the barrel of his gun.
Maybe he did that before I got here or maybe he doesn’t see the point in wasting his breath when they’re about to die anyway.
The first one doesn’t even have time to react before the quiet sound of the bullet moving through the silencer and embedding itself between his eyes whispers through the alley.
He slumps forward and his friend jumps to his feet, piss soaking through the front of his jeans as he tries to make a run for it.
He doesn’t even manage to step over the body of his dead cohort before he lets out a surprised grunt and crashes to the ground too.
“Fucking cockroaches,” The Ghost mutters.
I tighten my grip on my own gun and quietly start to stand up. I’m going to need to catch him off guard if I don’t want a surprise bullet through my head too. I’m in the middle of calculating my approach when the large metal door just below the flickering light swings open.
Fuck.
“Shit,” The Ghost grunts as a young woman wearing an apron and carrying two large bags of garbage takes in the scene in front of her with wide eyes. “They deserved it, believe me,” he says, before I hear the clatter of metal.
It takes me a few seconds to place the sound, and then I curse again. He’s gone. He went up the fire escape and he’s fucking gone. All I see is a shadow disappearing over the edge of the rooftop and out of sight.
He really is a fucking ghost, isn’t he?
The girl is in the wrong damn place at the wrong time and is still staring at the dead bodies in horror, so I decide to take pity on her.
I step out from behind the dumpster and she screams, flinging the garbage bags at me then darting back inside.
The door closes with a loud thud, and I’d bet she makes sure to lock it too.
I stuff my hands into my pockets and stand over the two bodies with a sigh, shaking my head. Getting rid of bodies is below my fucking pay grade. I can’t call Xav or any of the Moretti soldiers though, not without having to admit that I had The Ghost and I let him get away. Fuck me.
I don’t have a car with me or any way to transport them, so there’s only so much I can do anyway. It’s better if they aren’t just lying right in the middle of the damn alley, at least, right?
With a grunt, I bend down and grab the limp, lifeless body of the bald one and drag him over to the dumpster I was just hiding behind.
I can see why Xaviaro is always bitching about dealing with dead bodies now.
It’s a pain in the fucking ass to get this two-hundred-pound rag doll into the dumpster.
I’m sweating by the time I manage it, and I still have one more to go.
If I ever do meet The Ghost face-to-face, I’m going to tell him he’s an asshole for making me do this shit.
I guess I understand why he’s been leaving his kills lying around now though. This isn’t exactly a one-man job.
The second guy is a little smaller at least, but it still takes a lot of fucking grunting and cursing before his body flops over the rim and thuds down on top of his friend.
I grab the garbage bags that girl threw at me and toss them into the dumpster on top of the Reapers.
With any luck, the garbage truck will come by and take out the trash before anyone peeks inside and sees them.
When I’m done, I rake my fingers through my sweaty hair to tame it and slip back out of the alley.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see a notification.
It’s not another text from Spettro, but it’s just as good.
It’s a notification from my new home security system, letting me know that motion was detected at my living room window.
I grin and shove my phone back into my pocket, picking up my pace as I make my way home.