The Ghost: Chapter Three | Teen Ink

The Ghost: Chapter Three

April 9, 2013
By Ro432 BRONZE, Centerville, Iowa
Ro432 BRONZE, Centerville, Iowa
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"A room without a book is like a body without a soul"













― Marcus Tullius Cicero


Bryan sucked on his teeth, unsure what to think. He wanted Peters, almost as bad as she probably did. There had to be a catch though. Surely she wouldn't just hand the kidnapper of her sister over. Would she and what about me, when its all done. “All I want is Annemarie. The less I have to do with the guy, the better...” She said as if reading his thoughts.
“That's fine, but...” She smiled, knowing what he was going to say.
“Don't worry. If you help me get her back, I'll owe you one and I always pay my debts. So do we have a deal?” She said, offering her hand. He sighed, clasped her hand and nodded. Her long fingers wrapped around his and suddenly an image of those fingers running through his hair popped into his head. He mentally shook the image and pulled his hand from hers.
“Meet me tomorrow at my place. Six o'clock. You know how to get there.” he said, trying to ignore the lingering warmth her fingers had left. She nodded and followed him to the door, shutting it behind him. In the hall way, he released a breath and looked at his watch, nearly twelve-thirty. He'd only been in the apartment for thirty minutes, but it had felt like a life time. He took the elevator back down to the lobby, checked out and caught a cab back to his place.
The alarm's screeching awoke him at six-thirty. Groaning, he rolled over and pressed the off button. His phone buzzed, indicating several missed calls and text messages. Some of them were from Max Craig and the other from Angel. They were probably worried. He hadn't called after his meeting with the Ghost. He'd been to worn out, mentally and physically. Angel was more than likely at her father's house, pacing in the foyer, waiting for his call. He smiled at the thought. No matter how ruthless the Viper could be, she was still the caring sister she had been when they were kids. He remembered when he had first met her and her father, remembered the way she had looked at him as he lay in an alley, covered in dirt and grim, starving and cold. It had been a week after he'd....his phone started to buzz again, the caller ID confirming it was Angel. His smile deepened and he flipped it opened.
“I know, I know. I'm dead.”
“That doesn't even compare to what I'm going to do.” she said, although her voice was lined with relief. He could hear Craig talking in the back ground, which surprised him, normally he would have been at the office rather at home. Meaning he must have really worried the old man in order for him to miss work. “Dad wants you here, now.” He sighed,
“Alright. I'll be there in a hour.” They hung up. He stood, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and made his way to the bathroom. A towel wrapped around him, he looked in the mirror, studying the bruise on his jaw. Besides the soreness, everything seemed to be intact. He shook head and headed back to the bedroom to dress, making it a mental note to never be on the wrong side of the woman's fist again.
It seemed that everyone in Los Angeles had decided to jump on the highway at the exact same time, resulting in Bryan pulling into Craig's driveway in Long Beach a hour late. Bryan got out of the vehicle, locking its doors and looked up at the two story Grand Victorian. It was this house he had lived in after Craig and Angel had saved him from the streets. It was the only place he had ever really considered home. He started up the steps, the old wood creaking under his feet. He was barley on the porch when the door opened and Angel came running, throwing herself into him, her weight making him stubble. She hugged him fiercely, obviously she had been expecting the worse. “Come on now. Inside.” Craig had appeared at the door, watching them. They followed him inside and to the kitchen. The smell of strawberry pancakes filled his nostrils and made his mouth water.
Etta Glason stood at the stove, flipping pancakes. Etta had been his and Angel's nanny and in many ways a mother. It had been her who was there when Craig was off on business. She had cooked their meals and made sure they had clean clothes and most importantly, made sure they stayed safe when Craig was away. Now retired, Etta had been in the business almost as long as Craig and had fiercely objected when Craig wanted to start training Bryan. Craig had told her to either deal with it or find another job and Etta choose to stay. Bryan wasn't sure why she had disagreed in the first place. After all, it hadn't been like he was innocent. He'd already killed a man before. In fact, it was the reason he had been on the streets in the first place. Perhaps, she had been trying to make up for Angel, who Craig had started training at the age of eight, two years after her mother had left. Etta turned, her green eyes holding his. “Well, don't I get a hug?” she said, as she stretched her arms out. Bryan grinned and wrapped his arms around her small frame. “Now...” she said, hitting him lightly on the shoulder with the spatula she had been holding. “Sit your butt right down there and I'll get you some food.” Bryan kissed her on the cheek and did as he was told.
She sat a plate, piled high with strawberry pancakes and maple syrup, in front of him. He stuck a fork full into his mouth. The fluffy cakes seemed to melt, making him grin. There wasn’t a thing in this world that was better than Etta’s cooking. Angel sat a cup of coffee in front on him. Steam rolled from the liquid, warming his throat as it made its way to his belly. “Alright, spill it. What did she want.” said Angel, leaning her butt against the counter and crossing her arms across her chest. Bryan shoved the last of the pancakes into his mouth, chewing and swallowing them before answering,
“She wants to team up, to take Jonathan Peters out.” Etta and Angels’ eyes grew wide. They defiantly hadn’t been expecting that. Craig rubbed his chin with his finger.
“Why would the Ghost need to team up with anyone?” said Angel.
“Peters has taken her kid sister to insure that she would take me out.”
“But instead to just set her sights on him..”
“Yep..”
“But why you?”
“Because Peters burned him,” said Craig. “She knows he’ll do anything to get back at him so she’s going to use that drive as an advantage for herself.”
“Yeah and to make matters worse. I accepted her deal.”
Angel's face twisted in disbelief and then anger. “Do you have a death wish? That woman will chew you up and then spit you back out. Dad, you can't let him do this. It's the Ghost, he has no chance...he...” Craig cut her off with a wave of the hand.
“What deal did she make?”
“If I helped her, I'd get Peters.” Craig nodded as though he had expected no other answer. “She's given me her word that no harm will come to me or you guys.” Craig nodded again, rubbing his chin. Bryan looked from Craig to Angel and back to Craig. “I believe her.” A small smile tugged at the corner of Craig's lips.
“When do you meet?”
“My place. Six o'clock.”
“Dad, you can't seriously...” Again he cut her off. She crossed her arms tighter and glared at the floor.
“Go ahead with the meet..”
“Dad?!”
“Bryan can handle himself. I trust him to make the right decision.”
Angel let out a long sigh, her glare shifted from the floor to Bryan. “Fine, he can handle himself, but I want to be there.” Craig had started nodding before she'd gotten the whole sentence out.
“Yes, that's fine.” Craig looked at the clock on the stove, it was nearly nine. “I canceled any and all meetings that you two may have had...”
“What for?” asked Bryan.
“Because if you are going to be working with the Ghost, then we need to know her like she knows herself.”
At that moment, Etta came in with a few folders. “This is all I could find..”
“That's it?” asked Angel.
“Hey, she's the Ghost. You ever hunt down a Ghost...it's not so easy.”
“This will do. Alright, lets get to work.”


-to be continued-



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