Page 5 of Ghost

Chapter Five

Ghost

Mother fucker, the sway of that ass has me damn near crawling after her like some lost puppy. Then again, with an ass—and hair—that big, this woman could just about collar me at this point, and I’d go along happily. I've been tagging along behind her with my damn tongue hanging out for weeks now, and there ain't no chance I'm stopping. This is just getting good.

I watch her open the motel room door and slip inside. Taking the toothpick out of my pocket, I slide it in my mouth before leaning back on my bike concealed behind the oversized propane tank off to the side of the rundown gas station across the road. I look at the motel and smile as I watch the deserted place. There weren't many people staying in this broken-down shithole, but the ones that were—let's just say they were the worst of the worst. So, the night Tizzy checked in, I made sure to highly suggest they get the fuck lost. I was mollified when only the motel manager remained by the morning.

Taking a minute to observe the parking lot and ensure no one is lingering around, I decide to check the rear of the building. I’ve been trying to keep a closer eye on this exit because of the woodsthat back up to the property. It's the perfect spot for someone to hide and sneak in, but I've made sure the bathroom window to Tizzy’s room is locked. Looking now, I see the lights on, the window fogged, and the sound of the water running, reassuring me she's getting ready for bed.

I’m guessing tomorrow will be much the same as it’s been since we arrived in this little town. She had a night off two days ago, and I know her next is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. With her getting off work at the usual eleven o’clock, I don't think she will sleep in. Which means tomorrow will be a wake-up call, my guess, around eight a.m., then head to the local diner for a cup of coffee, four creams and three sugars, and a banana nut muffin, her favorite. She’ll talk to half the staff, finish her too tiny of a meal for my liking, then head out to putter around the shops along the main street for a bit, chatting and making friends with everyone and their uncle.

I wait and watch as the night ticks on; all the while, something in my gut nagging at me, like something isn't right, but for some reason, I give my woman the benefit of the doubt. Just as the sun is peaking over the trees, I lose patience with the nagging in my chest. Something's wrong, and I'm about to fucking find out what. Throwing the toothpick down, I quickly but quietly make my way to her room. Turning my back to her door, I hold the handle behind my back and use my foot to slam into it, breaking the flimsy lock before quietly slipping inside.

The room is empty. Completely fucking empty. The bed hasn't been slept in, and as I make my way toward the back of the room, I hear the water running and notice that the light is on. I can't help the smile that overtakes my face and then lose it—I throw my head back and laugh. She knew, somehow, my woman made me. Shaking my head while still chuckling, I turn back to theroom and scope it out again. She would have left me something, some kind of tease. As my eyes take in the bed, I notice a piece of notepaper with the motel letterhead on the pillow. Picking it up, I read over it, and the smile once again overtakes my face.

Heya Stud Muffin,

Guessin’ you weren't expecting this, huh? If you haven't noticed by now, I’m a bit of a handful. That ain't changin’ till they lay me down. If you're looking for a Stepford wife, you might as well stop looking now. If you want to find me, look for where flatirons and tenderloins rule the kitchen, where a village hangs out with batteries and radios, and where the broads dream in squares.

Toodles, XOXO

Again, I can't hold in the laugh. This woman is full of surprises. For the first time in my life, she’s made me feel young—something no one has managed until now. Like that young, pure first love you always hear about. The one where time, space, and petty high school bullshit get in the way. I’ve never experienced that love. My early life had been centered on much of what my adult life has… survival. I didn't have time for starry eyes and other shit. With Piper's mom, it was a one-night stand, and we tried to make it work. This feels different. It feels new, safe, exciting, and big. This feels like everything.

Looking at the beautiful, big, swirling handwriting, I smile. No one has ever clocked me. It turns out all it took was for the missing half of my soul to show up. Seems I can't get anything past her, and I wouldn't have any other way.

I take out my wallet and place the note there. It's time to go find my girl. Shaking my head in disbelief, I head out of the room and back to my bike.

***********

Four weeks later:

Sighing, I pass another yellow fucking taxi as it swerves to avoid a cyclist. I hate this fucking city. Too crowded, too big, too much fucking everything. It doesn't surprise me one bit that my little she-devil led me all the way to New York City. She probably thought it would be easier to hide in the hustle and bustle of the city. She would be wrong, though. More people mean more contacts. I have people all over this city, hell, all over this world. It took two calls, one outgoing and one incoming, before I had her.

My guy told me she was spotted in the East Village at a little fucking dog boutique, where apparently, she’s become the newest and hottest “doggy stylist” in the city. What the fuck does that even mean? Still, if that's what makes her happy, I’ll find her every stray in the city, build her a farm, and her own damn studio if she would just come back with me. I’ve decided that this was her last slip.

It won't be long before work comes calling, and I’ll be pulled away. Not to mention I just need her in my damn arms. Weeks of watching her fine ass walk away, bouncing out of my grip so slippery, it's got me damn near ready to chain her sweet self to me. Pulling down the block in front of the dog shop, I notice her putting a bow and spraying… is that hairspray? … all over the top of some white poodle's head. When the dog turns its head, I realize the tips of the dog's hair are bright pink and curled perm style. I want to laugh, but as I stare at Tizzy through the big front window of the shop, I notice her huge smile. I swear it overtakes her entire face. I can't help but sit there and watch her work. She's completely in her element, no matter where you throw her. Everyone loves her; it doesn't matter if they just met or not. Shejust has that personality, one I'm selfish enough to admit I want to covet all to myself.

After another ten minutes, I watch her grab two big shopping bags and wave goodbye as she exits the store. I trail her again. No way she knows I'm here. I’ve kept entirely out of sight and eyes trained on her. She hasn't made me yet, and by the time she does, I’ll have her little ass on the back of my bike and finally in her rightful spot as my ol’ lady.

I watch her take a left down the busy sidewalk, then walk straight for another two blocks. She passes by an ice cream shop with me three shops back, getting ready to make my move. A woman with heavy perfume and a black business suit passes in front of me, almost elbowing me in my dick. In the split second I take to look down, then look back up, Tizzy's gone.

“What the fuck?” I growl.

“Fuck you!” Is yelled somewhere behind me, but I don't stop to acknowledge it. I sprint to the Ice cream shop, noticing an alleyway on the far side. When I round the corner into it, I see her bags thrown all over the ground, like someone snatched her up and she couldn't hold on to them. What the hell is happening right now?

Taking off in a dead sprint down the dark path, my heart starts racing, flying the face of every ounce of my training. Who could have grabbed her? Why the hell is someone trying to take her? I finally tear out of the alley on the other side and look around wildly. The pier is straight ahead, but there is nothing but water beyond that point, so my choices are left or right. Just as I'm about to go left, the average person is more likely to look right, but go left, I catch a glimpse of big, beautiful, bouncing blondehair. As my eyes trail down that body, I notice her skipping… yes, skipping toward the ferry.

The little sneak got me again.

I race toward the boat but just barely miss the departure. I make it to the railing and look up at the ferry's top deck. What else do I find but my little firecracker leaning over the railing as it pulls away, giving me that shit-eating grin? Then, just for good measure, a little two-finger wave, followed by blowing me a kiss.

Smiling wide, I give her a wink, catch that precious little tease she’s leaving me with, and head back to my bike.

Chapter Six

Tizzy

Five more weeks later…

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