Chapter Thirty-Eight

Mallory

Sirens. Again with the sirens. Could he maybe pick a less fear-inducing alarm clock sound? I stir, not wanting to open my eyes in case he never put the mask back on. Ghost is wrapped around me, sleeping like the dead. How anyone can sleep through a blaring alarm is beyond my comprehension.

I nudge him. Nothing. I do it again, more forcefully. He grumbles and squeezes me tighter. Fucking adorable.

“Ghost, your alarm is going off,” I protest.

“Five more minutes,” he groans.

“Shut off the phone or I’ll do it...and I have to see to do that,” I counter. That gets him moving rather quickly. I can feel him unwrap his arms from me and the mattress dips and shifts as he rises from bed.

“You can look.” I open my eyes, my breath hitches as I take in every inch of his exposed physique.

Intricately crafted ink paints up both arms and down his ribs. Some realism, some American traditional style, it is all black and grey scale though and it matches him perfectly. He has a section dedicated to horror movies on his right arm. I can make out Billy and Stu on either side of a bloody Ghostface mask, Chucky, Pinhead, Leatherface and Freddy are there too, with Amityville looming large in the background. “Does it hurt?” I ask, entranced by the man before me.

“What?” Raising my eyes to the mask, “Getting a tattoo?” he asks. I nod. I’ve wanted one for so long but have been held back by my past and the fear of it being excruciating.

“It can, some places hurt worse than others. I find it cathartic. An outlet for pent up energy and emotions,” he explains and I absorb everything like a sponge.

“Where did you go? Yours are really well done,” I ask. Maybe one little tattoo in a low pain place wouldn’t be so bad.

“Why? Trying to find out who I am before I’m ready, little siren?” I can hear his worry under the guise of a light hearted quip.

“Huh? No, maybe I’ll get one.” He pulls up his pants and the clinking of his belt is loud in the quiet atmosphere. He moves closer to me and crowds my space.

“And mar this beautiful porcelain skin?” he says, pulling the blanket away and running his hands up my thighs to my abdomen. Stopping to cup my breasts and tweak my nipples between his skilled fingers. My body fires to life beneath his touch. “Tell me, Mallory… What would you get and maybe I’ll allow it.”

This fucker can’t stop me from getting anything. “I'd get Ghostface, right on my ass,” I laugh and he thrusts his fingers into my sore pussy, slow and hard.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” Thrust. “Like to kick the hornet's nest and prey you don’t get stung?” Thrust. I know he’s trying to intimidate me but it just won’t work. Do your worst, Ghost.

“I’m funny, and you know it.” My confidence wavers as my hips rotate, chasing the orgasm he’s dangling in front of me.

“What’s funny is this…” He pulls his fingers out of my needy cunt and I whine. God, he can be such an asshole.

“Ghost…” I mewl as he rises and pulls his shirt back on over the mask. “Don’t you dare leave me like this,” I threaten, but his shoulders just shake in a silent laugh.

“Or what, Mallory? What will you do?” He moves smoothly through the room, collecting his hoodie and phone, slipping it into his pocket. I’m speechless, scrambling for a retort but nothing comes.

“Exactly. Nothing. You’ll do nothing. Because not only can you not get yourself off, there isn’t time before your other boyfriend shows up to take you to work.” I don’t miss the way he enunciates the word 'boyfriend', like it offends him. It probably does. Wait… How does he know Nox asked me to be his girlfriend yesterday? Fuck, he is everywhere. My head swims as I catch a glimpse of the clock on my nightstand and see that it’s 4:45 am. Shit, Lennox will be here any second. Panic sets in and Ghost takes notice.

All traces of arousal dissipate as I frantically scramble to get dressed. He sits on the edge of the bed, enjoying every minute of this.

“Don’t forget panties today,” he jokes.

"Don't forget panties today," I mock in a whisper.

“Whatever,” I huff under my breath, rolling my eyes. I pull a tank top over my head and grab the uniform shirt from a clothes hanger. I cross to my dresser and grab a pair of black and grey colour block leggings and slide them on. Suddenly, I’m gripped by the throat and slammed into the wall. Ghost's massive body collides with mine as his other hand descends over my eyes. Well, I’m wet again. His lips meet with mine as he kisses me like he will never see me again. It’s a devouring of my very being, a declaration of love and adoration without any words. A kiss that leaves me panting and wanting more. I run my hands up under his shirt and around his waist. Pulling him closer to me, digging my nails into his skin. The pain escalates the heat between us, his wildness matching my own. Ghost slows the kiss as the thumping between my legs cries out for attention.

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispers against my lips. Then he’s gone. I’m leaning against the wall trying to catch my breath as I hear his boots retreat down the hallway. I can make out the sound of the coffee pot being turned on, then the front door opens and closes. The sound of the dead bolt lock engaging has a smile crossing my face; of course he has a key. I move to the window and watch him walk across the yard to the path I found the other night. He turns to look at the house one last time and catches me watching him through the glass. He raises his hands, cupping them to form a heart shape and my own heart threatens to burst. I return the gesture as he blows me a kiss then disappears into the trees.

The early morning twilight streams through the branches in beams of rainbow light. I will never tire of living here, soaking in the beauty that still exists in a place with such a dark history. The sunlight streams across the dew covered grass, giving the illusion the ground is glowing. I take it in, the peacefulness I feel now. How loved and wanted I feel. Depression still lingers on the fringes of my mind, but it’s not leeching everything from within me anymore.

I’m lured from my thoughts by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I feel lighter as I float to the kitchen and ready my to-go cup. Grabbing a second one, I make a mug for Nox. He had his coffee with cream and sugar that day in the restaurant, so that’s how I make it now. I wonder where he is…surely he wouldn’t make me late for work. I rush to put on some mascara and brush my teeth. Working the hairbrush through all the tangles in my mane is another story. I hear the roar of his truck and the kicking up of gravel from his tires. It’s just after 5 am and we need to get going. Abandoning my half tamed hair, I throw it up in a messy bun, rushing to my room to grab my work shirt and hoodie. It may be chilly in the mornings and evenings, but it will be hot as shit in the peak of the afternoon.

I make my way through the house, ensuring all the lights are off and windows are closed. Securing the back door, I grab our mugs and head outside.

I almost collide with Nox’s broad chest when I rush out the door. His hand shoots out, steadying me and preventing the both of us from being doused in scalding hot coffee.

“Thanks,” I huff, mortified as hell. He’s standing there with a fistful of daisies, dandelions, and small purple flowers I can’t identify. His face is flushed and sheepish.

“Are you okay? Did you get burned?” he questions.

“I’m okay, nothing spilled, thankfully,” I laugh out, trying to play off my embarrassment. “This is for you.” I extend the skeleton travel mug that reads 'Bone Daddy', eager to see his reaction once he reads it. “With cream and sugar, right?”

“Yeah, that’s great, thank you.” Tension hangs heavy in the air from the rejection that still stings, and the incessant need to plant my lips against his, even briefly. “I, uhh, stopped to pick these for you.” He passes me the small bouquet of wild flowers and the small gesture makes my eyes sting. Maybe Nox really does like me, and refused my advance last night for some other reason that has nothing to do with me.

“Do you like them?” The hesitant nature of his voice is the sweetest thing, and I just want to abandon work today and steep in this moment.

“They’re perfect, thank you.” I run back inside, realizing I don’t own a fucking vase, so I grab a pint glass instead. I fill it half up with water and place the flowers inside. I carry it to the side table by the couch, the sun is beaming in through the window on this side of the house and illuminating the area. Picture perfect, too bad I don’t have my phone. I head back outside to where Nox is waiting on the step.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yep.” I lock the door behind me and gravel crunches beneath my feet as I cross the distance then climb up into the truck.

I click the seatbelt into place and I can feel his eyes burning into mine. Nox all but throws himself in my direction, planting a hard kiss to my already tender lips. Everything ceases to exist in this moment until an incessant beeping pulls us from euphoria.