Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
I lift my head and look up into Nico’s eyes, and that is where I see it. In his eyes, I’m not the only one who has changed now. This wasn’t just my closure to have—it belonged to both of us. And through our journey, even though it started off with Nico and me on opposing sides, we have both broken through to each other and have been changed for the better. In his eyes, I see the end of his darkness—and the start of our future.
Nico places a soft kiss on the side of my forehead before letting me go.
“Why don’t you go take a hot shower to get cleaned up and try to relax and breathe now?” he says. “While I get this mess cleaned up and handle a few things. Will you be okay for a couple of hours?”
I nod. I could use some time to think and let the hot water wash over me.
When I step into the bathroom, I take a moment to look at my reflection in the mirror before starting the water for the shower. I look like a ghost myself, pale, wide-eyed, and with the matted blood in my hair making it look even darker than it should be. I’m reminded of when I first saw Nico, up close and in the light. When I first got a good look at him, it scared me a little, just like looking at my reflection is doing now. But then, out of the shadows, the truth was revealed. One small shimmer of it at a time.
I turn the water on and undress, letting thoughts and memories swirl around in my head as I wait for the water to grow hot. As soon as I step in and let the water rush over me, it feels like it’s washing away more than just the blood of the man who murdered my mom. It feels as if some of that trauma is being washed away as well. It will never be completely gone. I realize that. I will never be completely healed. I will always be a bit broken, just like the Ghost. But for the first time since that night, I’ve realized that I didn’t just lose my mom that night. I gained Nico.
He’s been my constant shadow, my protective nemesis who turned out to be my hero after all. He wasn’t just a watcher or an observer that night; he was the key to not only keeping me alive but keeping me strong. If I hadn’t had Nico to pursue, and an obsession to drive my focus and energy, then I might not have been able to do what I just did today—take back my life from the hands of the men who destroyed it. Now, I feel stronger, and I feel like I can finally let things move on from the night that trapped me mentally for a very long time. I think Nico has changed, too. I no longer see the weary shadows at the corners of his eyes. Now, I see cracks of light there—light that hints at Nico Vitale shining through the mantle of the Ghost that he’s been behind this whole time.
CHAPTER 21
NICO
Dragging two bodies, one dead and one unconscious, through the back streets of the Vegas strip is no small task. Which is why I pause for a beer at the bar of the shady nightclub once I’ve returned the nearly decapitated Vlad back to his crew.
“The boss isn’t going to be very happy about this,” the bartender says as he shakes his head and pours me a beer, all while keeping half an eye on the dead man propped up in the corner of his bar.
There’s a trail of smeared blood leading from the door of the nightclub to the bar, and less than a couple of hours before opening hours.
“He’ll get over it,” I say as I take a long, cold sip of the frothy ale. “And if he doesn’t, he knows where to find me.”
“I have to admit, you’ve got some balls, Ghost,” he chuckles. “You aren’t afraid of much of anything, are you?”
The truth is that if he had asked me that question a month ago, I would have easily and honestly said, “Nope, not afraid of a goddamn thing.” But now the answer has changed. Now I have something that I care about, and it isn’t just about looking after myself anymore. Now, I’ve fallen in love with Elle.
Even thinking about that word makes me feel unsettled, as if I’ve suddenly lost my superpower and am nothing more than a vulnerable, regular man again. Being the Ghost meant I could live a thousand lives, none of which I had to adhere to. I could kill people, save people, disassociate from people—and if I died, it didn’t matter much because I had no one to care about or to take care of. Now, the stakes are higher. Being the Ghost means that I have an ever-increasing enemies list, and that anyone around me becomes a target and my weakness. Just like now—as I sit here tempting fate by dropping Vlad off, missing half his head for his boss to see. If the fat don comes after me for it, that puts Elle in the crosshairs, too. Mafia kingpins like to go for the weakest point and use it as leverage, even if that means hurting those you care about in order to get to you. There are only a few of them with a moral code, like Vincent and Luciano, who don’t engage in such practices. The rest have more questionable ethics.