Page 68 of Ghost

“Absolutely.”

“Great. Meet me out at the fire pit, and I’ll bring out some samples.”

Twenty minutes later, the guys and I were sitting out by the fire, and we’d each taken a small sample. She gave us the rundown and told us to expect the euphoria to kick in within a few minutes, and she wasn’t exaggerating. It was good shit, and it hit quick. I hadn’t had shrooms since I was in high school, and even then, I didn’t do it much. I just didn’t trust the stuff, but this was the real deal.

I felt at ease, buzzed even, but I wasn’t completely out of it. It was nice. I could sit and breathe without feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. It was a good feeling—a really good feeling. I looked down at the fire and watched as the flames flickered back and forth, while the guys were all leaning back in their chairs like they didn’t have a care in the world.

“You think Tracy ever thinks about me or Grady?” I leaned my head back and looked up at the stars as I continued, “Or you think she’s so happy in her new life that we don’t even cross her mind?”

Neither of them answered. They were too busy staring at the fire to even hear what I’d said. But that didn’t stop me from continuing, “I used to dream about them all the time. Not as much Tracy as Grady, but I don’t mind the dreams about him. They help me remember. His eyes and rosy cheeks. His little fingers and his arms when he’d reach out for me. I don’t ever want to forget that.”

Again, no response.

Maybe they were blitzed out of their head or maybe they knew it was something I needed to get off my chest. Either way, they just sat there and listened as I told them, “I’ve been throughsome shit. Been overseas. Lost brothers. Lost my kid. Lost my wife. And that shit stays with ya. Becomes part of you. Not sure it’ll ever let loose, not fully. And that makes me wonder if Whit will ever get over what that piece of shit has done to her and the kid.”

Kiersten and Bray came out with a couple of drinks and placed them on the table. “How you guys doing?”

“Easy, like Sunday morning,” Goose mumbled.

It wasn’t a real answer, but it pretty much summed it up. She giggled as she asked, “So, you like it?”

“Not bad.”

“Good deal. We’ll leave you to it.” She turned and started back into the office. “I’ll be back in an hour to check on ya.”

Once they were gone, Memphis looked over to me and asked, “You okay over there?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

It wasn’t exactly true.

My buzz was fading fast, and I started thinking more and more about Cricket and her piece of shit ex. Just thinking about all the fucked-up things that bastard had done made my blood boil. The scars on her body, the fear in her eyes when she talked about him—were a constant reminder of the hell he put her through. And what got to me most was the fact that he hadn’t paid for any of it. That fucking prick was walking around like he was untouchable. He knew he was protected by his father’s name and that damn badge he hid behind.

He needed to pay for what he’d done.

And with his daddy’s pull and that fucking badge in his pocket, there was only one way that was going to happen. I stood and started walking toward the parking lot. I hadn’t gotten far before Goose shouted, “Yo, Ghost! Where you running off to?”

“I’m out.”

“Something wrong?”

I continued walking as I shouted, “Need to clear my head.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. I did need to clear my head, but that wasn’t the reason I was leaving. There was something I had to do. It was something I’d needed to do since I first laid eyes on Cricket. He was out there living his best life without an ounce of care or consequence, and it was time for him to pay the piper.

I grabbed my keys from my pocket and got in my SUV. I took a breath, making sure that I’d come down from my high, and once I was certain I was good, I turned the key and started driving towards the city.

I’d seen Shep’s report. I’d read over it a hundred times. I knew exactly where the asshole lived—a nice house in a quiet, family neighborhood. Didn’t quite fit with the monster he really was. I parked a few houses down and cut the engine. I took off my cut and laid it in the passenger seat, then got out and started toward the house.

It was dark. The only light was coming from the security pole, and it was all the way in the backyard, making it difficult to see as I made my way up to the driveway. His car was in the garage, so I knew he was inside. I needed to draw him out, so I picked up a handful of rocks from the ground. I tossed one up at what I hoped was his bedroom window and heard the soft plink of it hitting the glass.

I waited, then threw another one.

Seconds later, I saw the curtain twitch.

“Come on, asshole,” I muttered under my breath, tossing another rock.

Finally, the window slid open, and there he was—Cricket’s ex. He leaned out and looked around. “Who’s out there?”

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