I still needed her, and she was there waiting in my dreams.
Someone knocked on my door.
They always did that.
I don’t know why. Even when I told them to leave me alone, they never did. Yet, they still knocked before walking in.
“Ghost?”
I smirked at that…Ghost.
What a fitting name. An entity that was dead but hadn’t moved on. I thought it somewhat ironic and suitable to my situation. That I was and would forever be…a ghost.
“Reaper wants you in church.”
“Go away.”
“I can’t. He’s rather insistent.”
“Tell him I said to fuck off.”
“Thought you might react that way.”
Turning, I glared at the man who had been my best friend for years. He hadn’t changed one bit, just got meaner with age. He looked pissed, not that I cared. He had his woman. He could walk away right now and go hug her, kiss her, fuck her, and nobody could say a damn word. Hell, she was even pregnant.
My woman wanted babies—lots of them. I was never going to get to see her belly swollen with my kid growing in her. Never hold them, kiss them, hug them. Ever. Maybe I would dream about that tonight. I would like to see that.
Ignoring him, I turned back to stare into nothing. It was calming. I liked nothing. There was no pain there. It was just a place to wait until I could sleep again.
I felt something hit my back.
“Meet me in church in five minutes.” He ordered before slamming my door shut. Not that I would be following that order anytime soon. Reaching behind me, I picked up two large photos and stared at them, one dropping from my hands as I caressed the other one.
She was so pretty. She looked scared. I wondered why? She didn’t have anything to be scared of anymore. She was safe, protected, and loved up in heaven. Picking up the other picture, I knew why she was scared. Someone was holding a gun to her head.
Standing up, I walked over to the window to get a better look. It was her, my Ari, I was sure of it. She was standing by a large black SUV while a man wearing a Black Vulture cut held a fucking gun to her head. That made no sense. There were no Vultures at the airport when she died. Why was she with one now?
And then I saw it.
There on the bottom left corner of the picture.
The time and date stamp.
What the hell was this?
A fucking joke?
Leaving my room for the first time in months, I would kill the mother fucker playing these sick games. It was cruel. Nobody deserved this shit. Marching into church, I threw the picture back at Reaper and shouted, “What the fuck are you playing at?”
“Get angry. Good. I need you angry because we need to leave in like ten minutes so go get your shit.”
“I’m not fucking going anywhere,” I rounded the large table, moving closer to him. I was going to strangle the mother fucker for doing this to me. For years, I devoted my life to this club. I gave up so fucking much for him and this club. I fucking took over for him when his woman was taken. I did it all without any thought because it was the right thing to do, and he repays me by playing fucking games.
“She’s alive, Ghost,” Reaper said, taking a step back. “Bullseye took that picture not even an hour ago. She’s alive.”
“No. She’s dead. I saw her die!”
“Phantom thinks it was a decoy. The boys reported two planes that day, remember? One in the hanger, and the other on the tarmac. You went after the one on the tarmac. Nobody looked at the other one.”