Page 8 of Ghost

Page List


Font:  

Hell, I couldn’t even mourn her.

I felt nothing.

Not even a twinge.

Her death was driving me crazy. I couldn’t think straight. So many questions and no answers. My anger boiled deep within me, ready to erupt. I couldn’t explain my anger. “Because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.”

“Stop it,” Grimm whispered.

“Please, not here,” Shadow added.

That was twice now in more than a week.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I hadn’t quoted the bible since I was a kid. Then suddenly, I stopped—no rhyme or reason. I don’t remember much of my church days. I knew I went. My dad insisted on it, but then suddenly nothing. Church was forgotten about, and only the Skulls mattered. I was young when my dad started bringing my brothers and me with him to the clubhouse. Ten maybe, eleven, I don’t know. That was when I met Reaper or Max back then. We hit it off and did everything together until he was kidnapped while riding his bike. When he returned, he wasn’t the same. I knew something happened, but I was caught up in my own life to really be there for him. Then my dad died, and my life changed. I was no longer the small kid hanging on everyone’s word.

Overnight, I became a ghost. Watching from the shadows, waiting patiently to make my move. No one saw me if I stayed hidden in the dark, and when they least expected it, that was when I revealed my true intentions. I learned a lot from those shadows, the darkness that surrounded me—more than I should have.

When Reaper’s Pop died in my arms, he asked me to do something only I could do. He knew about my love for the darkness. He accepted it. Utilized it. Profited from it. Now, I couldn’t seem to step away from it. I was surrounded by it, always. The darkness covered me in its shroud, like a blanket, protecting me.

In the darkness was where secrets lay, secrets that could either save a man’s soul or condemn him to death.

Shadow nudged me. “Who is that?”

Looking up, I spotted an unknown man walking towards her grave. He looked old and walked with a slight limp, but I knew looks could be deceiving. There was something familiar about him. I couldn’t place him. The man was dressed impeccably, too nice for this crowd. Yet, he continued forward until he stopped just a few feet away from the rest of us. There was something off about him, something I didn’t like. I motioned to Player, who crept towards the man. The shifting of bodies made Caroline look up and gasp. Her face paled as she moved closer to Reaper.

Oh yeah, this man wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Ghost, I know who that is,” Phantom said, coming from behind me, whispering as to not disturb the service. “I have a file on him.”

“Who is he?”

“It’s Mia’s biological father, Jeffery Denton.”

Shadow, Grimm, and Vicious froze.

Yeah, that wasn’t public information yet.

I already knew everything about the fucker.

Every fucked-up detail.

“Denton worked for Darrin Reynolds back in the day in their profiling department before transferring to Homeland. He’s been with them since.”

“Why the fuck is he here?” Vicious whispered.

“No clue. A lot of his information is classified, which I am still trying to ascertain,” Phantom replied. “But what I was able to find out was that Caroline had full custody of Mia, and Denton signed over rights, which allowed Matthew Doherty to adopt her. Her adoption was sealed. Technically he has no reason to be here. In fact, there is still a restraining order on him, which he is in violation of.”

“Want me to take care of him?” Shadow asked, and I slightly shook my head no.

No, this fucker was mine.

Secrets. So many fucking secrets. I knew why there was a restraining order on this fucker. I knew why his file was classified. I knew everything about that bastard. I knew what he did and who he paid off to hide it. That fucking piece of shit was the lowest piece of scum on the fucking planet, and nothing was going to stop me from ridding his soul from this earth.

Creeping through the crowd, my brothers behind me, no one said a word as they all listened to the Preacher spout shit about forgiveness, love, and compassion.

Yeah, that wasn’t what anyone wanted to hear right now.


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Dark