Ghost: Chapter 4
A/N: I just want to warn you that this story will be a heartbreaker in the end so just in case you're not up for that, you've been warned. The last chapter or two will require a large box of Kleenex. Until then, however, emotions will be up and down, hopefully, mostly up. Besides that all I have to say is thanks for the reviews so far and I hope you enjoy this update!
The apartment was mostly bare. A small place: living room, bedroom, kitchen combined with a tiny bathroom across from the twin bed. The walls were white, with not a spec of dirt on them or the beige carpet. The kitchen, had a small two burner stove, small refrigerator, no dishwasher, and a washing machine and dryer side by side. The only food in the cupboards and the refrigerator was canned goods, frozen foods, pasta, whatever would last a long time. The living room was really the bedroom as there was no comfortable chairs, no couch, no television. Just a twin bed on a simple metal frame with an old beat up wooden nightstand and dresser found on the street next to a dumpster. On the dresser sat an empty wig stand.
Geoff Baker finished the touches to his black haired wig before throwing a short leather jacket on over his white t-shirt. Aside from that, he wore a pair of slightly baggy jeans and sneakers. Some girls would have called him hot while others would have drooled after him. He knew this from experience. But he didn't need the cult following. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses to hide part of his face. Reaching into the night stand he pulled out his wallet and slid it into his back jeans pocket. He reached back in and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and his cell phone. He checked his phone for messages and found one from The Devil, his boss. Untraceable phone number. He never called from an unsecured line. He listened to the message.
"Geoff, I see that you did an exceptionally good job in record time. To thank you I've given you a little bonus in your second half of the payment. It should be waiting for you at your post office box by now, I would assume. I'd also like to invite you to dinner next Thursday night. Your next target will be dining with us. Six o'clock. Don't be late."
Geoff erased the call and put the phone back into the drawer. He grabbed his apartment keys and left the building, leaving his Viper in the parking garage in its secured spot, preferring to walk.
"Good morning, Mrs. Aquilina," he said to the elderly woman coming up the walk with several bags of groceries.
"Oh, good morning Geoff."
"Here, let me help you with those."
"Oh, no dear, I'll be fine, if you'll just hold the front door open for me."
"Sure, no problem."
Geoff reached out and held it open as she walked through. She stopped, and turned to him.
"You know, I just don't understand how a man as good looking as yourself hasn't got a woman by now. You should be married with kids!"
"Mrs. Aquilina, we've been over this before, I just haven't found the right girl yet, that's all."
"Right. Well, I'm sure you will soon enough. Anyway, thank you, and have a wonderful day!"
"You're welcome."
He let the door close and continued on his way to the post office with a smile on his face.
Fifteen grand. He'd counted it twice, while he sat on the park bench shaded by the tree across from the post office. Fifteen grand. That was five more than the usual second half of his payment. But he wasn't counting. Not really, anyway. Once the actual counting was done he took the hundreds out of the envelope and stuffed them up his sleeve and went for a long walk. He stopped by an out of sight garbage can and took out a cigarette and his lighter. As he lit up the cigarette, he also lit up the envelope with his address on it and let it fall into the can just before it burned his fingers.
He then walked to the nearest bus stop and hopped on, choosing his next stop at random. He got off half an hour later and began walking the streets. He spotted a homeless man in rags begging for change on the sidewalk. He calmly walked over to him and slipped a hundred dollar bill out of his sleeve and put it in the man's cup. The man looked down, then back up at him with wide eyes.
"You have a nice day," Geoff said.
"Why, thank you! Thank you! God bless you, sir!" the man called after him as he walked on.
He smiled to himself. It only took so little to help those in need. And it brightened his day to see someone smile because of something he'd done. He didn't need the money. The only expensive thing he allowed himself was his car, and nothing else. What else did a man really need anyway?
The day was a warm one, and a perfect day to give blood to the Red Cross. He came upon a booth outside of a church with nurses standing by, ready to take blood.
"I'd like to donate," he said.
"Ok, well, if you could just sit right over here and fill out this form we can get you started," a young blonde said.
"No, I'm sorry, I miss spoke. I can't donate blood. Medical reasons. But, could I donate money?"
"Why... why, sure, why not?" He slipped many hundreds out of his sleeve and gave them to her.
"I hope this helps," he said with a smile and was gone.
He made his rounds for another half an hour, handing out money to the poor of the city and the charities, before he got back on the bus and headed home.
His cell phone was beeping when he walked in the door, signaling that he had another message waiting.
"Geoff, requests your attendance in his office. He's got another hit for you. But he still wants to see you for dinner on Thursday."
It was one of his boss's goons. And he had to go to work. He grinned.
Full loving husband mode. That's what Greg was in now, as he finished chopping up the pepper and threw it into the skillet with the ground beef and the onions. For the rest of the day there would be no thoughts of AK-47s and his checkered history. None. Only love would flow from his veins.
"So, you think we'll finally get to eat your wonderful spaghetti?" Nick asked.
He'd come up behind Greg at the stove and placed his hands on the younger man's hips, leaning in to nuzzle and kiss his neck.
"Mmmm, I hope so. After all the effort I'm putting into this. You smell wonderful, you know that right?"
"I know, you worked hard to get me clean in that long shower."
Nick nibbled on his earlobe.
"Nick, we're not going to have dinner, if you keep that up," Greg moaned.
"I just don't know how you do it, man. You're like the energizer bunny. How many times was that in the shower, babe?"
"I lost count," Greg grinned.
"See what I mean? I'm gonna start calling you Bunny, from now on. Or maybe Ebunny."
"I'll stick with Doll, or you know, Greggo, or G. But Bunny? Come on, I'm not a stripper."
"Coulda fooled me a couple hours ago, Bunny."
Greg turned the stove off when the meat was browned. Nick was still behind him, and he could feel his warm breath on his neck. And then Nick did the unthinkable. He licked him in his favorite spot right behind his ear. He felt the shivers running through his body as he turned and attacked Nick with his own mouth, taming him quickly as he pushed him out of the kitchen, into the livingroom and onto the couch. He let his husband's mouth go and got up.
"Where are you going?" Nick asked.
"You stay put," Greg ordered, pointing a finger at him. "Give me fifteen minutes, tops, to get the rest of this sauce together. Then we can fool around during the three hours it takes to simmer. Time wise, it makes more sense and we can eat sooner. I'm starving!"
Greg ducked back into the kitchen and began throwing the rest of the ingredients into the pot while keeping an eye on Nick at the same time. Nick had sat up on the couch, and was resting his head on his hands on the back, watching Greg in the kitchen. Once the lid was on the pot and the sauce was simmering, Greg went back and sat down beside Nick, who held his cheek in his hand and kissed him ever so gently and sweetly.
"You know, if we could find those candles Mom gave us, we could have a nice romantic dinner. Just you, me, and the spaghetti, and no tv like we usually do," Greg suggested.
"I love your idea."
Nick kissed him again. Greg reached up and took Nick's hand in his own, letting the fingers curl around his palm as he stared at the silver band on Nick's left ring finger with his own name engraved in a beautiful script.
"I know it's been five years, but I still like your choice of rings, G."
"That's not what I was thinking."
"Oh?"
Greg turned Nick's ring around on his finger so that his name was now facing Nick's palm. He raised Nick's hand and turned it upside down so he could read the inscription on the other side: 'I (heart) U'.
"That's what I was thinking," Greg said solemnly, looking up at Nick.
He let his husband's hand go and moved to straddle him as he covered his mouth again with his own. He sucked gently on Nick's lower lip, rendering him almost senseless with the simple act.
"You're so easy to control Nick. Are you sure no one else can do that to you?"
"It's all you, babe."
Nick didn't move an inch, he lay back on the couch like a puddle of mush allowing Greg to do whatever he saw fit to his body. Greg moved to kiss his earlobe and then his neck, working hard on one spot close to his collarbone, as he licked and sucked. He pulled away many minutes later, satisfied by the small bruise forming on his lover's neck.
"I'm still confused," Nick said. He was now breathing slightly harder than normal.
"About what?"
"I just don't understand how a guy like me could get so lucky. But I don't want to start asking questions cause then I'll wake up alone just to realize that you don't even exist, that it was all a dream."
Greg looked deep into his eyes.
"It's not a dream, Nicky. I'm here, and I'm all yours. Besides, you don't even realize what this means to me and nothing I can say or do will fully explain it to you. I'm just so happy that I can belong to someone as loving and caring as you. I wish I could help you understand, but I can't." Greg smirked all of a sudden. "You'll just have to settle on this instead," he breathed, kissing Nick while unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off him.
Geoff was on a roll, and he felt good. He wished he was doing this for the money because it wouldn't be long before he'd be a millionaire and he could retire and live off his earnings for the rest of his life... and he was only thirty five years old. There was something else he wished for. Better targets. Lately, he found himself getting bored. Everything was too easy. Even this one. Killing a man in broad daylight in his office downtown. Piece of cake.
Geoff was wearing his wig and sunglasses, along with a perfectly pressed suit. His revolver was in his pocket. And, he knew just enough about the target that he even wore the same shoes, so prints wouldn't even come up. Ironically, they both wore the same shoe size. Who would have guessed? And not only that, but the man was closing up his office for the day, but he always liked to work late, and alone. He always sent his secretary home at five o'clock precisely.
He'd parked his car around the corner and now stood across the street from Liffan and Black, the lawyers office where Ben Liffan worked. It appeared that Tim Black had died recently from a heart attack, and Ben just hadn't gotten around to getting the sign changed. It was a plus for Geoff as Tim used to work late as well, and he hated killing innocent people who weren't meant to die.
And there she was now. Jane Griffith, the secretary emerged from the revolving doors and began to walk down the street, probably towards the bus stop. But Geoff didn't care. As long as she was away from the office for a few minutes, that's all the time he needed.
He darted across the street and through the darkened revolving doors. Inside he found several offices on either side of the hallway ahead of him. There was a dentist, a pediatrician, a therapist, a hair and beauty salon, and there on the end he found Liffan and Black's office. He tried the door, but it was already locked, even though he could see a light on from the back office on the other side of the glass door. The other businesses and offices were already closed. He brought out his lock picking tools from his other pocket, and opened the door with quiet ease. Slipping inside he found several doors to the left of the receptionist's desk. One led to a bathroom, and was properly labeled as such. Another, presumably lead to the dead lawyer's personal office. And the third, had to belong to Liffan.
Geoff pulled out his weapon after sliding the other tools back into his pocket, and walked carefully down the carpeted hallway, toward the last door. It was closed, but not all the way. When he reached it, he pushed it open and stood in the doorway.
A balding man, probably in his late sixties, wearing a suit with no jacket and a loose tie looked up from his paperwork, startled.
"Who... who... are you?" he asked, a note of fear in his voice.
"Your worst nightmare," Geoff said, raising his revolver and pulling the trigger.
One gun shot to the forehead and Geoff was returning to the door, careful to lock it on his way out. Back out the revolving doors, he found his way to the Viper and was gone from the scene of the crime. It had been too easy.
Nick rolled over in bed and let out a contented sigh before he realized that the warmth he'd sought out wasn't there. He forced his eyes open and confirmed that the other side of the bed was empty and he was sleeping alone. He listened intently to see if the shower was running, or if maybe there were dishes clanging in the kitchen. He heard nothing.
"Greg?"
He sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Standing up, he almost lost his balance from his still sleepy state but he caught himself and managed to walk to the doorway before steadying himself on the doorframe. The hallway was empty. He found the kitchen empty, the mail on the table, unopened. Greg wasn't in the bathroom either. Or the livingroom.
"Greg? Where are you?" he called again as he headed toward the spare bedroom.
It was also empty. And a knot was beginning to form in his stomach. He went back to their bedroom. There was no note on his nightstand. If Greg was going somewhere he would have left him a note. And if he'd bee asleep, as he was, Greg would have left it on the nightstand by his head. If he'd been awake, he would have put it on the refrigerator with the microscope magnate he loved so much.
Nick grabbed his cell phone from the charger and headed back out to the kitchen to check the magnate. There was no note.
The pain almost doubled, and if it hadn't been psychological he knew he would have been bent over, clutching at his stomach. Greg always left a note. He'd never forgotten. Not once in the five years they'd been married. He went to the livingroom and looked out the front window to their driveway. Greg's car was gone.
Had he just gone out to the grocery store? Or had someone kidnapped him? Forced him at gunpoint to leave the house? But, how could they have and not woken Nick up? He would have heard something.
He dialed Greg's cell phone, just wanting to hear his voice, to know that he was totally overreacting. Everything was going to be just fine. Greg had just stepped out to get some milk and he'd be right back. He probably figured he'd be back before Nick woke up. But he always left a note, even then. He heard the phone ring on the other end and then Hank Williams began to sing back in their bedroom. Nick ran for the room, letting his phone ring. Greg's cell was sitting on his nightstand still in the charger where he'd put it before they made it to bed earlier that morning.
He was just overreacting... he was just overreacting... he was just overreacting... like a good husband would. He sank to the floor and hugged himself as the minutes crawled by and slowly turned into hours. He was not overreacting... he was not. And his mind blanked. Should he call Grissom? Should he file a report? Go out looking for Greg? Where would he start? He wasn't sure, but the tightening in his gut as the hours went by, told him he needed to do something.
A/N: I apologize for any mistakes you may find, while I started this early in the day, I finished it late, and edited it late. I'm tired, so who knows what I could have written. However, I'm beginning to really love this story especially now that I have a clear ending in mind, so I can't wait to post it. Don't forget to let me know what you think! I'm hoping it's going to hold you to the edge of your seat until the very end, and even then, you should still be glued there! But who am I to talk, the ending is still miles and miles of desert away!