Page 47 of Ghost

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“Should be there within the hour.”

Hanging up, I walked back to my bike, seeing Aariaani looking at me. “What is it?”

“Nothing, baby. You ready to get back on the road?”

She smiled and nodded.

We arrived in Denver just before sundown and quickly found the warehouse where we were supposed to meet Matrix. Pulling into the large building, I noticed it was baren. Dust covered everything. Cobwebs were spread out over every beam. The place looked inhabitable as if no one had been here in years. Looking around, I tried to find Matrix when the spooky bastard walked up beside me from out of the shadows.

“Ghost.”

“Son of a bitch,” I growled. “Do you have to do that every time?”

“Just sayin’ hi fucker. This the chick?”

“The chick is Aariaani, and she’s mine, so don’t even think about it.”

“Whatever.”

“Yes, and me too.”

“Come on then.” Matrix said, walking away as if I were inconveniencing him. Fucking scary bastard. Helping Ari off my bike, I followed my creepy brother shaking my head. Matrix wasn’t like my other brothers. He was tall but skinny. Covered in head-to-toe tattoos and piercings, I wasn’t sure there was a spot that was bare on him. Unlike my other brothers, Matrix wore Emo clothes, baggy black pants, and chains over his chest. Add that the freaky bastard had an affinity for cats. He wasn’t what I would call playing with a full deck. He preferred a solitary environment, and though he was a Golden Skull member, he didn’t really belong to a particular club. He only took orders from Reaper, and that was only when he felt like helping. What nobody knew was that Matrix was our bank. Whatever money the clubs made. It all went through Matrix. He distributed, invested, and made sure that every endeavor any club wanted to invest in, build or spend, that we had money. He was a genius with numbers and a master when it came to deep tech shit.

Following Matrix, I kept silent as he placed his hand on a black box on the far-left corner of the massive warehouse. Green lights illuminated under his hand. He then leaned forward as the same green light shown over his eyes.

Talk about overkill.

“Phoenix, Alpha Bravo Tango Charlie.”

The sound of a door unlocking filled the warehouse as I watched a small section of the wall slowly slid away, showing a larger room within. Matrix moved quickly into the darkroom as he headed straight for a bank of computers along the back wall.

“Close the door,” Matrix ordered as he took a seat before a vast machine. Ushering Ari in front of me, I did as Matrix requested. When the door shut, the room was illuminated in soft light. The room was more significant than I thought and comfortable. All the amenities were there. A small kitchen, a sofa, a bathroom, and, oh thank God, a shower.

“There are fresh clothes in the bedroom. Shower works. The water is hot. Help yourself,” Matrix said, as his fingers clicked vigorously across the two keyboards before him. The wall he was facing was one big screen. It was created with several televisions, all linked together upon further inspection. He had five computers running along with the large desk as he moved quickly from one to another.

The man seriously needed to get out of his cave more.

Shaking my head, I said. “I need to call Reaper.”

“This room was constructed with three feet of steel by five feet of concrete. You don’t have cell service in here.”

“What about a landline?”

“On the counter next to the fridge.”

Wasting no time, I headed to the phone and sighed.

“A rotary phone, really?”

“If it’s not broke, don’t fix it.”

“What about upgrading to the twentieth century?”

“Rotary phones are binary. Untraceable. There are no micro-circuits to corrupt them. Go ahead. The line is secure. No one will be able to trace the call.”

Dialing the number, I knew by heart, I waited patiently for Reaper to pick up. Turning to Ari, I whispered. “Baby, go shower. Take your time.”

She nodded and did as I asked.


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Dark