Bending down slightly into her, I place my face near her mouth, so I can feel her breath on my skin. I wanna make sure she is breathing, and to breathe in her sweet smell. This woman is all fire and ice. She is a sweet, new addiction that I want swirling in my veins. I'm so surprised by how little she weighs. I could walk with her in my arms like this for miles. I feel every inch of her under my hold, every part of my soul wants to eat this woman. I can’t handle what she is doing to me. She’s thawing the king of death, the Reapers’ in-house tormenter and executioner. Will wonders never cease?
Timberly
I feel as if I'm floating on a blanket of air as clouds and rainbows fill my mind, swirling in and out of a haze. I'm not quite sure where I am, what I'm doing, or just how I came to be here. It has me on edge, nervy and unsettled in a way, but then there is that smell, and that touch. I know these two things. They bring me comfort, even in the dark. Can I have both the feeling of home and warmth but also the dark depths of this horror story I call life?
I don’t feel cold anymore. I feel warm and nice. I realize I can feel the strides of strong steps as air wisps over my face and around my legs then just like that, it’s like a wave of heat and smells, ink and smoke. I know this. I feel the cool of leather under me, it’s firm but nice. I hear my name so softly against my face. This voice is the voice I’ve fallen for, that husky voice, that sexy rasp. He's repeating my name again, over and over, as I try to pull myself up from the dark to the light that surrounds this husky voice who feels like home. He speaks my name again like it’s scripture. It has my heart beating like a drum, no longer a hum underneath the blood orange sun of my dreams. His touch to my skin seems to diminish my insecurities, the vulnerable nervousness and instability that surrounds me like a blanket of deep dark demons feeding on my soul, making me feel alone and inferior in this place of pain.
I feel the weight change and the warmth disappears. No! Don’t go. Don’t leave me. I'm trying to free myself, I'm trying to do better. Wake up! I scream at myself, wake up from this darkness. I know I'm a mess, I know I'm hard work, a challenge, but my heart beats when your touch is near. Don’t give up on me. Please, don’t go. I may not ever get my shit together, but I will try. I can’t not have your stare no longer gracing my body, your hands touching my skin, your voice filling my ears.
I feel it then, light and free, soft and sweet, the smell of ink pulls me from the slumber. Opening my eyes, blinking away the bright fluorescent lighting that is burning into the orbits of my eyes, I go to pull myself up, but the sharpest pain graces the back of my skull like a sledgehammer jacking the shit out of it. “OUCH!” I fall back down, holding one hand to the lump and what feels like a sticky, matted wound, while the other is flung over my eyes, shielding them from that intense bright flicker of light. My head pounds and the gash stings great did I really pass out and crack my head open heat flames my skin as embarrassment washes over mixed tangled with anger. Mortification and humiliation flood me I can’t even handle the awkwardness floating around me right now.
“Timberly, baby?” He whispers. “Timberly, it’s ok, I got you.” His voice cuts through the pain in my skull. “Why am I even here, like where am I? this shit right here is so confusing you really don’t need this sort of drama.” The words are hard to form over my dry lips as I try to sound stronger than I am. “Babe, I'm here. You passed the fuck out hitting the hard ass concrete like a sack of rocks. You whacked your head hard and split it right open, knocking yourself out. I carried you to my shop... this is where we are. You’ve been out for a while now. You had me worried, babe. I got Red coming over to see if I need to put your ass on the back of my bike and take you to the hospital.”
Blinking away pain, and the prick of tears I feel forming at the edge of my eyes, I try to pull myself back up. “Hospital? Hell no. Work? Yes. Away from you? Yes.” I stammer out “I can't be here, it's not safe.” I try to look anywhere but into his stunning eyes. It’s useless, I’m drawn to them.
His hand reaches out touching my shoulder as he slightly pushes me back down. His eyebrows are knitted together and his lips are set in a thick line as his jaw clenches I can see so many unspoken words dance of his increasingly beautiful yet hunted features. I watch him as the butterflies begin to swam it’s all too much and his face tells me so he’s broken like me and we shall walk in circles trying to what fix each other he will let go and I will drown. “Hey, you stay there. Don’t be moving, beautiful. I’ll get you something to drink. Water, coffee, or whiskey? I do have Jager.”
His awkwardness, is oddly settling at less I’m Not the only one her on the edge of panic. I answer, “Water please, water is fine.” With a small tight smile I wonder why I feel so calm right now? Did that fall knock all the sense and fear for the unknown out of me? “And haven’t I told you to stop calling me that?” I say to him casually as if I'm normal.
“What, beautiful? Yeah, babes, you did but I'm a man and I'm not into listening to the fairer sex much.” Flicking me a wink, he heads out the back, through some swinging cowboy bar looking doors. I fall back down putting my hands over my face. What the actual heck am I going to do? He wasn’t in my escape plan but here he is. For what reason I’m not sure. Maybe Odin has put him in my path for a reason.
The sound of his footsteps cut into my thoughts, stopping at the side of me, I can hear his heavy breathing. I slowly pull my arms from my face blinking from the harsh lighting. He holds out a large tall glass of cool water for me to take. I pull myself up carefully onto my elbows, my head aching as I wince back from the pain, he places the water into my trembling hands. I wrap my fingers tightly around the glass as he heads to the end of the long leather couch. He gently lifts up my legs and sits down placing them over his. “Hum mm,” I push out, exasperated at his boldness.
“Yeah doll?” he casually says looking at me from the corner of his eye.
“Um, what are you doing?” I ask, small bubbles of fear rising he is always so close and his touch is laced with a gentle that I can’t seem to control as the spots dance in front of my eyes my emotions run a marathon in spilt seconds each time to touches me I swirl from reality to that of dreams and the thought that I can be a little less lonely with him in my presence.
“Sitting down,” he answers simply, lighting up a cigarette that he pulled from his inside pocket of his leather jacket. He lights the zippo lighter and I watch as he brings it to the tip of the cigarette and sucks in the flame as it flickers amber red, he sucks deep and long. He lays his head back on the couch blowing out the long drag that surely would make a normal person pass out. Smoke swirls around him, it's hot I must say, watching him make smoke ring after smoke ring his lips a perfect O.
“I see that, but you can’t be touching me, it's not good for my panic att-” he cuts me off. My heart stops as my blood stills in my veins how dare he like always cut me off and just carry on like this isn’t making me panic and this situation isn’t at all awkward coz it’s like seven shades of wired.
“Doll, I have carried your beautiful ass in my arms for blocks, smelt your hair, felt ya breath on my skin, and even tasted your blood from my fingertips. Having your legs over mine is gotta be the least of your worries right now.”
Shocked, I sit up further. “You umm...you did what? Really? No one has ever touched me with care before. It's always been in anger and greed.” Shoot, did that come out loud and not in my head? How can I just blurt things out like vie known him forever he steals my pain and takes it away. I feel like I don’t need to fight with him around I can be lost and broken and he eases the anger from the men that have abused me it feels right. Trust and confusion swim together.
“Huh, come again? Say what? Who touches you like that, Timberly?” He questions through a blanket of smoke swirling in front of him.
Shaking, I place the glass of water on the floor after taking a few large gulps. My mouth is suddenly dry. I lay back down bringing my arm up over my face. “Um no one.” I feel him still and tense under
me, mentally I berate myself. The feeling of safety all of sudden floats away and I don’t feel so at ease I regret all that has come from my mouth and the thoughts that walk through the walls of my brain. Pity for my shit existence come in waves his hand finds the side of my cheek in one small flick of his fingers he leaves a heat that cools to ice as soon as his fingers leave my skin.
“Timberly, don’t do that.” His voice is clipped with either anger or pain. I'm not sure which, maybe it’s both. “Who hurts you?”
Shifting my arm slightly, I look up at him through my lashes. The tears that I'm trying to hold at bay fall like a goddamn downpour in a rainforest. I can’t stop them. His body moves up under my legs until the backs of my knees are on the other side of him. He reaches down under my back, his hands firm and his touch hot, pulling me up into his strong arms. I start to freak out as the black spots form along with the endless tears, my heart is beating so fast I'm sure it’s going to explode.
“Timberly, stay, baby, stay with me. Don’t you dare pass out again!” he says into the side of my head as it resting on his shoulder against his jaw. His voice sends shivers over my body, the fear running through me like a river.
“I can’t help it, you’re too close, please back up. I don’t even know your name, or who you are?” The dark is coming fast. Why does this happen? I don’t want to leave him. I try to blink back the blackness that's forming around me, fighting to stay here in the present, it doesn’t work.
The dark weighs heavy on me and, just before I pass out, I hear the faintest sound leave his lips. “It’s Ghost, my name is Ghost, and I think I need you.”
Chapter Six
Ghost
Punching the wall, I let out a bloodcurdling scream, “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” Looking out the window, I search the diner across the street. Where the fuck is Red? She needs to be here, like now! Looking down on sleeping beauty I whisper into her ear, “Beautiful, please come back, I need you.” The door opens, then in a rush of cool wind and the smell of coffee and grease, the woman known as Big Red occupies the front entrance of my shop.
“Well, well, well what do we have here?” she asks, looking down on Timberly. I fill her in as she pulls, prods and pokes at my Miss Coffee. I pull and scratch at my arms. The stress has me craving a fix something fierce and it’s starting to fuck with my thoughts and concentration.
“Is she ok?” I slam out, sounding full of hate instead of concern.
Red spins around on me, “Boy you better change ya tone when you speak next time. She’s going to be fine, this is just Timberly.” I can hear annoyance in her voice. What the fuck does she mean? This is just Timberly. Pushing myself away from her side of the long leather couch, I head out back to splash some water over my face. Opening the medicine cabinet, I pull down the bottle of pills I keep in there. Spinning the lid off, I shake a few into my wet sweaty palm. I'll just take a couple just to get through this shit right here. She needs me, even if she doesn’t see it, so I need to be in control and I can’t be when ladylove is clawing her ice black nails through my skin, trying to break free, and I can’t have her taint my beautiful Miss Coffee.
I won’t let her out, she needs to be hidden and this Oxycontin will do just the trick. Placing four of the sweet pills in my mouth, I scoop up water into my hand from the running tap. Throwing my head back, I swallow down the tiny tablets that, in about ten minutes, will wash a sense of calm over my strung-out body.
Wiping the dripping water from my face and pushing my wet hands through my hair, I walk out to see Big Red fanning Timberly’s face with one of the tattoo folders.
“Here,” I say, pulling over an actual fan from beside my tattoo stand. It can get really hot in here at times while leaning over someone and inking them up.
“Thank you, son, sorry for snapping before,” Red says with care in her voice.
“Hey doll, don’t sweat it. I was jacked up with nerves and I snapped. My name is Ghost. As much as I like the sound of son, the name’s Ghost.” I see the look in her eye as she looks me over. Yes, I’m a tattooed bad biker and no I will not harm her. The look says it all a silent warning and a judgment. Its just a name. I’m the dark Ghost of night time horror but I am also fucking human. And well hey you liked me before you knew my name.
“Fitting,” she says with a smile. I'm so used to the way people look at me and think the worst from their first glance at my appearance but I'm just a boy in this great big fucked up world. Yes, I have tattoos, like all over me, A massive dragon tattoo wraps around the left-hand side of my body all the way to my face ending around the top of my temple. It covers so much more than the scars, it covers the demons I’ve battled, the people I have taken out, the fake love from ladylove, it gives me its strength and its fire to burn whole here.
Cutting through my mind is the sound of her breathing in a deep lungful of air like she just woke up from drowning.
Timberly
My head is swimming, it's been so long since I had two major full-blown attacks like that. I’d say I’m a bit dazed and confused.
Stealing a glimpse over to where he stands jiggling, on the spot, his fists clenched his jaw set in a hard line uneasiness and apprehension zaps from him filling the room. His hair is falling over his face, dripping small drops of what looks like water each time he moves. We make eye contact and I feel my cheeks flush, but he’s quick to look away, his eyes seem different this time, glazed over slightly. I wonder if it's me and what happened that has him looking so disheveled. Fear grips in my chest taking what air was in there out in a squeezed whoosh. This is what I was afraid of getting close and him seeing the me that lies behind the thick black lashes.
Red cuts through my thoughts, asking me a million questions, trying to reassure herself that I'm fine and don’t need to go to the hospital, before pulling out a sheet of Advil from her breasts. “Take these, two every two-four hours for a headache that’s bound to be forming. You’re going to need to rest today so you either stay here with your very own knight in shining armor, or you come over and rest upstairs over the diner, it’s up to you, girly, but either way, you ain’t working.” That statement makes me anxious I need the tips from today’s shift. I need all I can get for the day when I have enough to escape.
Looking up to where he is standing, I see he is running his hands through his hair. He opens his mouth and I hear the sweet sound wash over me. “Beautiful, I would give my left nut to have you stay with me the rest of the day, otherwise I'm going to pace a hole in this floor watching the window up there.” How can he like me so much? After all that has transpired in the short amount of time that we have known each other. My emotions are raging and the inner war with myself to let him in is coiling deep.
I glance out the window, thinking, mulling it over, “Red?” I say not taking my eyes off the street outside.
“Yes doll?”
“What should I do?” I ask, while looking down at my fingers and picking at my nails.
“Well Missy, it's up to you, what does your gut say?”
Searching her eyes and my soul, I pull at the cotton on my hoodie, pulling my hands in and out of my sleeve and hoping that, somewhere in its warm depths, there is an answer for the predicament I am in. On one hand...What have I got to lose? The nightmares are dark, but he looks capable to shoulder them...Maybe? But on the other... Is her the she devil, and her men. The fact that they could take him away and if I open my cold heart it could get broken into like a million pieces and I am nowhere ready for that.
“I have a loft set up just up the stairs through there, so you’re more than welcome to just lay up there and rest. We can get some food and I’ll sit on the other side of the room and I won't talk or look at you.” Flicking me the biggest grin, he looks happy with that statement. But it doesn’t do anything to quell my panic. I feel anxiety bubbles inside me trying to pull me back down to the dark,
“I’d like to stay here with you, if that’s ok, but just for a while though. I have to be home by seven,”
I say, not making eye contact. I don’t want him to see the fear in my eyes that simple things are hard and breaking the rules I’m not strong enough for. Her rules are clear. Work, make money, cook, clean and lay down like a good girl and service her debts.
Clapping her hands together in pure excitement, Red stands to kiss my forehead. “You got this. Be you, doll, just you. I’ll send over some food for you both. Son, you look after her, she’s very special to me and she is made of glass. You crack her, and I'll break you,” she says gruffly, hands on hips, stern look gracing her face.
I smile. “I won’t hurt her. I'll treat her like the diamond she is, a delicate and rare beauty.” His words are laced deep with passion and devotion for a stranger that he sees as an exquisite jewel and I can’t help but actually believe him. As hard as this is it’s so beautiful to be fragile with him and been seen, to be raw and a mess and he not run. Which in turn makes me want to stay.
Leaning down and kissing my cheek, she whispers into my ear, “Give yourself one day to be you, the girl we both see.”
Nodding up at her, I meet her eyes, seeing nothing but truth and wisdom within them. She calms me, and the funny thing is that he does also. As long as he stays over there, I'm fine. It’s when he cuts into my space and I smell him, and feel the warmth that radiates off his body, that’s when all hell breaks loose, and my body defies my brain.
The sound of the bell dinging over his door pulls me from my reprieve. Watching me like a hawk he walks back over, the intense stare burning into my core and setting my soul on fire with one look. He sits down on the couch to the far end of me. It shifts with his weight, the air leaving the leather cushions as it welcomes his body molding to his shape. I look down at my hands as he scoots over a little, lifting my feet up. My breathing stops, he places them down on his legs, rubbing very slowly and lightly over the tights that cover mine. “Baby, breathe or you will surely pass out again, and as much as I love looking at you, it’s no fun when you can’t look back at me.”
Heal Me (Reapers Reign, #3) Page 6