AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The same fear that’s kept me under Chuck’s roof this whole last year paralyzes me even now.
Although, a big part of me thinks Ghost may be safer than anything else the state of New York offers.
“So glad we could come to an agreement,” Ghost says. He’s quiet a moment, and then his voice rings through the noise in my mind. “Lucinda.”
I focus my tearful gaze on his wicked one. His brow pitches up, the slightest of tilts, that softens his whole face in a way that almost makes me feel better.
“Close your eyes.”
I frown, but do as he says. Not sure why he would want my eyes closed, but I don’t see the harm in it. I don’t see the harm in him.
“How do you wanna do…” Chuck trails off, panic lacing his words. “Hang on, now, wait, we—we have a deal! We have a deal!”
There’s a quiet click, but no one speaks.
“Come on, man,” Chuck says. “You don’t wanna do this.”
“Right again, I don’t,” Ghost says. “Lucky you—she’s far too sweet to see the length of what Iwantto do to you.”
There’s another puff of air and a click.
Sticky, hot liquid splashes across my thigh as Chuck lets out a tortured howl. I clench my eyes tighter together, tucking my chin to my chest, until the thump sounds at my feet, and I have to cover my face with my hands to keep from looking.
“You bastard!” Chuck wheezes out, his voice thick from the pain, though he tries to sound angry, superior. I flinch in spite of myself, bracing for him to grab me, to hurt me in payback for whatever Ghost did. “It was a deal! We had a deal–”
“Trunk or bumper?” one of the men asks.
“It’s the middle of the day…” the other retorts, but doesn’t get a reply.
“Neither,” Ghost grunts, and anotherwhooshof air cuts through, silencing Chuck’s string of curses.
I part my fingers, just an inch, to peek at the bloody sight at my feet.
“Don’t look.” Ghost steps over Chuck’s crumpled form and gathers me in his arms, lifting me out of the trunk like he’s picking up a pillow. He slams the trunk shut and sets me on it, angling my face up to his while Murder and Mayhem get to work moving the body. The dead body. Chuck’s. Dead. Body. “Look at me. You’re alright.”
“You killed…” I whisper, but he shakes his head and I close my mouth.
He reaches into his jacket for a small pocket knife, shockingly gentle as he slips it between my wrists and cuts through the duct tape holding them together. He works his thumb under the tape, releasing it from my skin and tossing it away.
The other men move efficiently through this, not flinching or hesitating in the slightest, like they’ve done this dance a million times. The tattooed one, Mayhem, says, “Aye, boss, should I call the cleaners? Oh, ha, wait–that’s me. Look at me, ahead of the curve!”
“Shut the fuck up.” The bigger guy, Murder, hooks one of Chuck’s legs over the other.
“He wasn’t part of the Cartwright family, was he?” Mayhem asks. “Like not yet, he was just licking boots, right?”
Murder’s eyes widen, and he hisses something that sounds an awful lot like, “You see the terrified little girl, right?”
I sneer before I can stop myself. I’m not terrified, or little, and I don’t appreciate being calledgirlin that context. No one could go through what I have and still be a little girl. The little girl died four years ago.
“She’s fine, we’ll blame it on shock,” Mayhem continues, gleefully grabbing Chuck’s ankle and dragging him dramatically away from Ghost, jerking him around like he can cause pain to a corpse.
My head tilts a bit, fascinated by the whole thing. This only happens in movies, and here I sit, watching it happen to a monster, and wishing, guiltlessly, he were here to suffer through it.
“Lucinda,” Ghost says, giving my hands a gentle shake, ensnaring me in his crystal gaze when my eyes snap back to his. “That’s better. I assure you, it’s not worth it to watch.”
“Wh-Why did…” I swallow, caught up in the tender way he massages my wrists, luring the blood back into my fingers. “He would’ve let you take me. It wasn’t a trap.”
Ghost raises a brow, seeming to realize what he’s doing in the same moment, and lets go of my hands. Then he pulls an honest-to-God handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes at the death on my leg. “I’m not taking you anywhere.”
