Page 1 of Ghost

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GHOST

I close my eyes, listening to the sounds of nature surrounding me. The squirrels scamper across the tree branches, and geese honk as they fly in formation above the open meadow. I open my eyes and breathe in the dewy air, which smells of pine, oak, and moss. I scan the open field beyond the tree line, taking in the light gray mist blanketing the grassy area as I sit in silence.

Silence. It can be your greatest adversary and your worst enemy.

I'm a loner, and over the years, I’ve grown to like my life the way it is. I answer to no one. Keeping myself closed off from the world can sometimes be a heavy weight pressing on my chest. Still, the hurt of loneliness is far less painful than allowing yourself to love and then losing it all.

Solitude is where I find refuge. I live off the grid—away from people, in the middle of the woods, inside a small cabin—where I survive off what the land provides. My life is simple, and I prefer it this way.

I spot movement and watch a large buck slowly make its way out into the clearing. I'm encapsulated in the silence and by the steady rhythm of my heart beating while staring at the young buck through the rifle's scope. The deer raises his head, and from his mouth, blades of grass fall while he chews. His instinct keeps him tuned in to his surroundings, always looking for danger. The six-point antlers on top of his head span wider than his shoulders. I admire the majestic creature for a moment longer before pulling the trigger.

Another successful kill.

A calm breath leaves my body.

I rise from my seat attached to a sturdy oak tree where I'm hidden several feet above the ground. I sling my rifle over my shoulder and descend the ladder to the forest floor. I make my way to my kill and kneel. "Thank you," I murmur, knowing his life will now sustain mine. Every life has a purpose.

Just likeshehad a purpose.

In an instant, I'm having a flashback and find myself swimming in the past, drowning in memories of her.

Four years ago

My wife looks over her shoulder at me while pouring freshly harvested honey into a sanitized mason jar. Her bottom lip pushes out in a pout. "Do you have to go?"

"It's only two weeks." I stroll across the kitchen, and Amber catches a drop of honey on her finger and turns to face me.

"Taste?" she offers, and I lean in and suck the honey off her fingertip. The sweetness explodes in my mouth while I lose myself in her sapphire-blue eyes. "Good?" She smiles, pulling her finger away.

"Not as sweet as you." I bury my face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of honey and wildflowers and thinking how lucky I am.

"It's not fair." Amber moans as my lips linger against her skin.

"It's my job."

She sighs. "I know, but we said ‘I do’ three days ago. Can't they get someone else to go after the bad guys?"

"I'm sorry." Reaching down, I take her delicate hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. The gold and diamond on her ring finger catches the sun just right, making it sparkle. Nestled beside the engagement ring I gave her nearly a year ago is the gold band I placed on her finger last week. I kiss her knuckles. "I can't exactly call in sick or ask a brother to cover for me, babe."

"I know." She becomes even more solemn. "It's just… I don't feel good about you leaving this time, Foster." Her free hand lifts, and she rests her palm against my chest over my heart. "I can't shake the feeling that I may never see you again once you leave."

“There's always a chance I may not return, honey. You know that." I hate leaving her with worry. I glance at the honeybee clock on the kitchen wall, then look down at my new wife. "I have to go." Leaving loved ones is one of the hardest parts of being married to a military man. "I'll be home soon."

"Promise?" She smiles, blinking away tears in her eyes.

"I love you, Mrs. McMullan." I press my lips against hers and feel her smiling against them.

I force myself back into the present, dragging my mind from the pain gripping my insides. Amber had a premonition, and I discarded it as if it were nothing, because tomorrow is never a guarantee when embarking on dangerous missions. I left that day not knowing it would be the last time I'd see the light in her eyes and feel happiness in my heart.

I'm a military man who transitioned into mercenary work. My missions usually revolve around human traffickers, and that operation was no different from before. I met a new unit and worked alongside Riggs and his team, which consisted of five others. On paper and in the field, we accomplished another successful mission. We saved the lives of two dozen young women who finally reunited with their loved ones.

You reap what you sow.

Because of my actions, the woman I loved was dead. A crime lord with a vendetta obtained the identities of a few men in my unit, and he set out to kill us all.

Carlito Sanchez was responsible for one of the largest trafficking rings in the States, and I was the one to put a bullet in his head. His father, Angel Sanchez, put a price on our heads and wanted every man on his list executed. Three of my brothers died at the hands of Sanchez's hired hitmen.

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