Page 71 of American Hellhound
Ghost sent him a tight smile. “Nah. But thanks. I’m okay for now.”
Collier made a doubtful sound, but didn’t argue.
In the common room, Roman was busy stuffing a backpack with the little candy tins they used to disguise and distribute pre-rolled joints.
“You off on a drop-off run?” Ghost asked, more out of instinct than interest.
Roman slanted him one of his more mischievous looks. “Got a load of goodies for some cute little kids.”
Ghost sighed. “Why do we gotta sell to minors, huh? And why do you gotta enjoy it so much?”
Roman shrugged and zipped up the backpack. “Their money’s good as anyone else’s. And,” he added, smiling, “these kids say they’re friends of yours.”
“Ha. Sure.”
“Nah, for real. Some chick. Midge? Margo? Marge?”
Ghost’s heart turned over. “Maggie?”
Another shrug. “Sure. Maybe.”
Ghost told himself not to jump to conclusions. Maggie wasn’t an uncommon name, and his Maggie – he wasn’t going to analyze the fact that he thought of her ashisright now – wasn’t into drugs. Surely it wasn’t–
“Got a buncha high school kids meeting me at Hamilton House,” Roman said. “One of the little bitches says thisMaggiechick iswithyou or something – wants the family discount.”
So itwashis Maggie.
He wanted to kill something.
“Don’t leave without me,” Ghost said, and dragged Collier along by the sleeve as he headed out to the parking lot.
Collier was already making a face when Ghost turned to him. “It’s her, isn’t it? The one you chased across the street the other day? Jesus, Ghost, what are–”
“Yeah, I’m an idiot. No arguments here. Right now, I need to go make sure Roman minds his damn manners.” And make sure Maggie wasn’t getting herself into the kind of trouble that would get her shipped off to boarding school.
“What about Aidan?” Collier asked.
“Shit.”
Collier looked pained. “You’re going to go no matter what, aren’t you?”
“I have to.” And in that moment, it felt like a true statement.
“Fine.” Deep sigh. “I’ll call Jackie and get her to watch the kid. I’m coming with you.”
~*~
Maggie had never head of something as stupid as going to Hamilton House while the sun was still up. Everyone in the city knew that kids got up to all sorts of no-good at the old mansion, but they turned a blind eye, for the most part, because they weren’t willing to drag themselves out of bed and investigate in the dark of night. But going at four p.m. was asking to get arrested.
“You can’t be serious,” Maggie said as Stephanie put her Beamer in park. “We aren’t doing this.”
“Yes we are,” Stephanie sang. “Now come on. You’re my coupon.”
“I hate you,” Maggie said as she slid out of the car.
“Right back atcha.”
The house looked more frightening and dilapidated during the day. Its front windows could have been shuttered eyes, dripping black mold tears down the siding.
