Page 3 of Ghost

I smile as I watch her shimmy and shake around the edge of the dance floor as she carries a now empty tray just as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Not taking the time to look at the phone, knowing only a select few have this number, I answer in my usual pleasant tone.

“What?”

“Well, hello, sunshine. I’ve missed the fuck out of you too, boss,” Taz, one of my first regrets to the team, says on the other end of the line.

“Cut the shit. You knew I was going no contact for a bit. What could have possibly happened that Omen or Rasputin can't fucking handle? One or both of them better be dead,” I growl.

“Well….” I hear drawn-out, and then someone in the background, “Don't believe him, Prez! I swear…” Then, a tussle and muffled exclamations come over the phone. I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose to try to find some semblance of peace. It doesn't help.

“Taz?”

“Uh, yeah, Prez?” He sounds out of breath now.

“You better not be fucking calling me to tattle on Mania.” My tone is deadly soft.

… silence. These motherfuckers. I growl, but his frantic words cut me off.

“You know what, Prez? Omen was dying. A deadly case of the shits, but Mania saved his life. Volunteered to even wash his ass for him. It was a miracle. You’s shouldda seen it. We’ve got it all from now, though. Sorry, boss,” Taz rushes out, but I still hear Mania in the background.

“What the fuck? That's not what happened! Omen would never let me wipe America's Ass …”

I groan as the picture comes into view of what kind of chaos I’m going to be walking into when I finally get back home. These two fucking idiots will have the whole place condemned.

“You better not have fuck…”

I'm interrupted by obvious weird-ass mouth noises Taz thinks sound like a disconnected phone.

“Prez - *Weird Crinkle noise* - I can't - *screech* - Your cutting ou - *Weird Crinkle noise*”

Rolling my eyes, I hang up the phone and make a note to put them on latrine duty for a month when I get back to the compound. They just got off that particularly nasty detail last month. They’ll love the good news. I smirk, just thinking about the torture to come. Then I smile wide as I see my woman walk back around the bar, picking up a full tray of drinks and sashaying her way through the bar. She doesn’t know I’m here, watching from the shadows, and I’m not ready to blow that cover just yet.

I don't miss the fuckers undressing her with their eyes all around the room, which has my smile dropping quick as fuck. I count how many are around the room, waiting for their chance to talk to the pretty waitress,mygoddess of a waitress, who deserves to be walking streets of gold, not shards of glass and fucking piss. She shouldn't have to grace these fuckers with her presence. I comfort myself in knowing that none of them will get the chance to get their hands on her.

But just as I think it, I see disaster hit. After shimmying her way over to a dark corner table, I watch as she leans over the table and distributes the way too overpriced liquor. As she reaches across the table, a man's hand slides its way up the back of her thigh and gets almost to her ass. I’m already on the move, but before I blow my position, thankfully, she dances out of the way as she smiles and jokes with the fucker. Oh, he’s going to pay fornot only the hand but that smile she gave freely to the scum-dick who doesn't deserve it.

For now, I sit back and bide my time. I keep an eye on my woman, but I keep a closer eye on my next target as the night goes on. Fifteen minutes before Tizzy's shift ends, the fucker who touched her decides to take a piss break. This is my chance, and I ain't gonna fucking waste it. I walk around the shadows of the bar, gliding through the drunks and women smelling of god-awful perfume until I reach the hall leading to the toilets. I take one more look at Tizzy before ducking my head and making my way back to the men's room door.

I clocked this back exit a week ago, the day Tizzy started working, when I scoped out the joint and ensured she would be safe while here if I couldn’t be watching every moment. Now, I kick up my leg onto the wall and lean my back against it, waiting for the fucker to come out. It doesn't take long before the greasy fucker with slicked-back hair, a big gut his shirt is struggling to hold in, and a mother fucking gold pinky ring stumbles around the corner. This guy screams mob boss wannabe, but I've taken out the worst of the worst of his kind, and this’ll just be another rat I exterminate from the street.

I watch as he grabs a passing waitress and holds her close to his chest. He says something in her ear, and I see the disgust on her face right before he drags her to the back door. I slip out quickly before he gets a look at me. Not a moment later, he stumbles out, groping the woman and forcing her through the door, then back against the wall as she screams and struggles. He leans into her, but I can't stand the sight of this and know I need to stop him.

Grabbing him quickly by the neck, I push his face into the opposite wall and smile at the audible snapping sound his nose makes as it breaks.

Turning to the waitress, I look at her in her eyes. “Time for you to get out of here.”

“W-What? W-who are you?” she stutters, probably in shock.

“No need to worry about that. Just run back inside. I’ll take care of this bastard,” I say, squeezing the fucker's neck a bit harder. Relishing in the whimper he produces.

“You saved me,” she states before looking back at fuck face, paling before turning back to me. I give her a chin lift, then motion to the door. Trying to get her back the fuck inside so I can break every single fucking finger this worm has. He will regret touching my Buttercup.

“My name is Kayti. When you're done, come back inside. Drink on me,” she says before turning and running back through the back door seconds before the worm in front of me starts wailing. I turn and smile at my new friend. His eyes are wide as he realizes he’s now stuck with me in a dark and poorly fucking lit parking lot. But of course, his type isn't one to know what's good for him. He turns and tries to start with the threats.

“What the f-” He doesn't get to finish before I put my fist through his stomach, then use my forearm to push him back against the brick wall. His eyes are wide, but he’s still trying to get words past his cut-off throat. I have no words for him; they would be wasted on his ears. So, I let him get his last words out.

“Do you know who I am? I run this fucking town.” He sounds absolutely baffled.

That makes me chuckle. It's always the same with guys like him. They throw around their weight, literally, at anyone unwilling, then have the absolute audacity to believe no one is on their level. The problem is, he’s never seen someone like me. I don'thave lackeys doing all my dirty work. I may be getting up there in age, but I’ve never let my skills dull, and I’m still just as fast, stealthy, and strong as I was in my early days. Unluckily for him, all those years have only made me smarter. Which makes me even more dangerous now.

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