Chapter 26 #2
She rolls her eyes. “Let’s not go that far. I tolerate him. He’s like that cat you’re holding. A lost stray. Flailing around, trying to survive whatever’s eating him from the inside.”
I slump in my chair, deflated. “You might be right.”
She drops into the chair beside me with a huff.
“Don’t get sappy again. That doesn’t mean you should give him another chance.
He fucked up. Royally. And everyone’s carrying heavy shit, not just Ghostberry.
Plus, he’s practically the poster boy for toxic assholes.
” She shrugs. “But… whatever. He’s cool as a frenemy. ”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Temperance drops into the conversation, carrying a massive thermos of coffee. Woman’s gonna die of a caffeine overdose any day now.
“I heard something about toxic assholes. Are you talking about Bones?” she asks, raising a brow.
Ria snorts. “Nope. Ghostberry.”
“Oh,” Temperance says, eyeing me. “You know, I like to think I’m tough,” she starts, and Ria snickers.
Temperance shoots her a warning glare before turning back to me.
“But I don’t think I could’ve handled someone like Ghost. You never know what that guy’s thinking.
But you just know that whatever he is thinking, it can’t be good.
It’s all doom and gloom. How the hell did you survive a year with him? ”
“He’s not all doom and gloom,” I say, unable to stop myself from defending him. “At least he wasn’t like that with me. And yeah, I know he was lying and shit, but… He laughed. And we had fun.”
“Laughed?” “Fun?” Ria and Temperance echo in unison.
I roll my eyes. “Yes, laughter and fun. What? You think he doesn’t laugh?”
“Well, he did laugh last night,” Ria says. “To be fair though, he was high as a kite.”
“You gave him drugs?” Temperance asks, vaguely scandalized.
“It was just a joint, Sainty McSaint,” Ria shoots back.
I chuckle and rise from the table. “We’ll finish this later. I’ve got to distract Ghost before my next prank. And we need to get going.”
“You sure are enjoying this kiddie revenge thing,” Temperance says with a smirk.
“So much,” I gasp, grinning.
‘You’re strong.’
I pick up the note left near the cash register and frown at it. It wasn’t here yesterday when I closed up the bookstore, which means someone snuck in last night. Someone with stalker tendencies and a brooding personality. And temporarily blue skin.
The same someone who said those exact words to me less than an hour ago.
I turn my head and glare at the suspect through the shop window. He’s stuck on his bike in Ria’s parking space. I almost smile at the thought, but stop myself just in time. He’d catch it — he’s got the eyesight of a hawk. And I’m not giving him the satisfaction. Or encouragement.
I don’t know what the hell he thinks this stupid note is supposed to achieve, but whatever it is, he’s wrong.
I raise my hand, holding the note, and crush it in my fist. Let him see that.
Then I turn around, fully intending to toss it in the trash. But at the last second, I sigh, uncrumple the small piece of paper with shaky hands, and slide it into a narrow space under the counter.
Damn it.
The moment we pull up in front of the clubhouse, I jump out of Ria’s van in a hurry. I’ve been waiting for this all day.
I plant myself in a serious stance, hand on hip, face blank, and wait for Ghost to park his bike. I try not to smile. I really do. But I shamelessly lose that battle the second he shuts off the engine.
He slumps a little in his seat, biting his lip. Then he groans, cracks his neck, and starts looking around. His eyes lock on me fast. I can’t see them clearly — he’s still wearing sunglasses — but I know he’s glaring. I can feel it. I’m practically shivering from the intensity.
He takes off his sunglasses slowly, and — fuck — I was not prepared for the look he’s giving me. A second passes. Two. Then he grins. Dark. Dangerous. Just a hint of amusement.
“Are you proud of yourself, adorable?” he says, voice smooth as silk.
I almost squeak-giggle. Shit. I clear my throat, trying to keep my cool.
“Why? Is something wrong?” I ask, all casual.
His grin spreads. “Not for long,” he murmurs, and reaches for his boot.
My eyes widen as he pulls out a hunting knife. Then widen more as he strips off his boots, his belt, and starts cutting through his jeans. I can’t look away.
“I have a weird feeling this prank’s gonna backfire on you,” Ria whispers at my side.
“Tiny lady, let’s go inside,” Tank mutters, trying to grab Ria’s arm, but she dodges him fast.
“Shut up, Tank,” she hisses. “If I want to watch the show, I’ll watch the damn show. You can leave.”
“Shit,” Mindfuck wheezes as he steps out of the clubhouse and joins us. “It worked. I can’t believe it worked. He stayed on his bike all day?”
“Yeah,” I breathe, still watching Ghost cut through his pants. “Parked in front of Ria’s coffee shop the whole time.” I frown. “Ria fed him.” I glance at her. “Ria, uh… the food was edible, right?”
She huffs, pretending to be offended. “Not everything I serve is poisoned, Princess. Besides, Ghostberry has a freaky sixth sense about that shit. He wouldn’t have eaten it if I’d messed with it.”
“I had a stomach ache after that muffin you gave me,” Tank mutters to himself, tone suspicious.
“Not my fault,” Ria says flatly.
I suck in a breath when Ghost gets off his bike. Pantsless. Fuck! He was going commando. His thigh muscles flex and instantly, goosebumps ripple across my skin. He grabs his boots but doesn’t bother putting them on. He starts walking.
Domino whistles low and cheeky. Ghost freezes.
“Take my bike to Joker,” he barks, eyes narrowing at Domino. “Then come to my office.”
“Got it, boss,” Domino chuckles, already moving, but Ghost is done with him.
His gaze is back on me. Laser-focused. Intense. He starts walking again, each step slow, deliberate. I suddenly feel like a small, innocent rabbit. And he’s the big, bad wolf, ready to sink his fangs into my furry little tail.
He stops so close I have to tilt my head back to look up at him.
“Do you have a Band-Aid, adorable? I just scraped my ass falling for you even deeper,” he murmurs, voice dark and smooth.
My hackles instantly rise. “Did you really just say that to me?” I bite out, completely outraged.
An infuriating smirk plays at the corner of his lips.
“I sure did,” he says, tone laced with an unspoken dare.
“Ria, hold my cat,” I order, handing little Gary to her without breaking eye contact with the jerkface in front of me.
Gary meows, and when Ria takes him, I hear her whisper-yell “Ow!”. She’ll be fine. I’ve got shit to do.
I plunge my hand into my messenger bag and — luckily — land right on what I need. I pull out the Coke I forgot to drink earlier and, still locked on Ghost’s eyes, I start shaking it.
His smirk widens into a full-blown smile. He doesn’t move. I glare. Such a cocky bastard.
I take a step back and pop the can open, right in his face. It explodes. Catches me too, but the bulk hits him. Mindfuck, Tank, and Ria jump away just in time.
Ghost starts chuckling as he wipes his face, dragging a hand down his jaw. Then he leans forward, eyes narrowed.
“Next time you want to see my cock, adorable, just ask. No need to glue me to my bike.” With those final words, he walks away. Blue, half-naked, and soaked in soda. Cock swinging proudly.
I’m ashamed to admit it — I peek. At his ass, too.
“What the fuck just happened?” Mindfuck says a few seconds later, blinking fast. “I’m both confused and horny. That Band-Aid pickup line… what kind of bullshit was that?”
“It was the first thing he ever said to me,” I whisper.
“He learned it from me. I taught him all my pickup lines when I was prospecting,” Tank declares proudly.
Ria scrunches her nose. “No wonder he’s still single! No offense, Princess. I can’t believe you agreed to date him after hearing that.”
“I was nineteen,” I say, trying to defend myself. “And he was a dangerous, good-looking bad boy. He could’ve just growled, and I’d have said yes.”
“Damn, that’s true,” Ria mutters, throwing a glare at Tank.
“Ah,” Mindfuck sighs, “to be young, dumb, and full of cum. Those were the days.”
“You’re still dumb and full of cum,” I grumble, grabbing little Gary from Ria and heading into the clubhouse.
‘You’re strong.’
‘You’re smart.’
‘You’re wanted.’
‘You’re not alone.’
I’m sitting on my bed in my room at the clubhouse, holding the four notes. I’ve been staring at them for at least half an hour.
Every morning, one of these was on the counter at my bookstore. And every morning, before I leave the clubhouse, he says those exact words to me. It’s only been four days, and I already feel like I’m addicted to this shit.
What the fuck is he trying to do?
I haven’t asked him. Haven’t called him out on his bullshit once. I haven’t even told Ria or Temperance about this. I don’t know why. It feels like I’d be betraying a secret of the soul.
I just kept playing pranks on him. Stupid, childish pranks.
I don’t know why I’m doing that either. The glitter was supposed to be the first and last one. But then he smiled. And I wanted to do it again.
What the fuck am I doing? I’m losing my mind. Completely. I can’t let myself fall like this. Not again. I need to remember his lies. His cruelty.
Instead, a different cursed memory slithers inside my mind.
…
“Ms. Evans, you testified that you saw Mr. Zayas sell cocaine to an unknown man around ten PM on August eighth. Correct?” the lawyer asks, her tone matter-of-fact.
“Yes,” I say, not looking at her. “That’s correct.”
My eyes are glued to Dominic. Memorizing the shape of his lips, the wild strands of hair brushing his forehead, the sharp edge of his jaw. He was thinking about growing a beard. I would’ve loved to see that.
He’s wearing a suit, and it looks wrong. Leather always looked good on him. Like he was born in it.