A ghost

Chapter 133: A ghost

ETHAN

I stood at the abandoned shipyard, waiting for Greg. The scent of salt and gasoline hitting my nostrils. The place was quiet except for the occasional creak of metal and the distant sound of waves crashing against the dock.

I had chosen this spot for a reason, it was neutral ground, away from prying eyes and close to my hideout.

The black SUV rolled to a stop a few feet away. The headlights cut through the darkness before shutting off. The door opened, and Greg Evans stepped out, his movements stiff and with caution. He scanned the area before his eyes locked onto me.

Then, he froze.

His body went rigid, his eyes wide with shock. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

He took a slow step forward, shaking his head. “No. No, this isn’t possible.”

I smirked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Greg’s face twisted in disbelief. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Yeah, well… I guess I’m not.”

His fists clenched at his sides. He looked like he wanted to punch me just to see if I was real. “I saw your body at the morgue.” His voice was tight, laced with something between anger and relief.

I sighed. “I had to do it, Greg. If Smith thought I was alive, I wouldn’t have made it out of that hospital. I had to disappear.”

Greg exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He looked away for a moment, probably trying to compose himself. “Jesus Christ. Do you have any idea what you put Mia through?”

My chest tightened at the mention of her name. I missed her a lot. “How is she?”

Greg’s jaw twitched. “She’s a mess. She barely eats, barely sleeps. She almost…” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “She’s not okay.”

I clenched my fists. I had expected this, but hearing it still felt like a punch to the gut. “I didn’t have a choice, Greg.”

Greg scoffed. “You always have a choice.”

I didn’t argue. I knew nothing I said would change how much I had hurt Mia.

“Tell me what’s been happening,” I said, changing the subject.

Greg hesitated, then nodded. “I’ve been digging into Smith. I’ve exposed bits of his operations to put pressure on him. I have two of the guys who shot you and John in custody, and I’ve filed a lawsuit against Smith. The police are watching him now.” His voice darkened. “But it’s not enough. I want him dead.”

I shook my head. “No.”

Greg narrowed his eyes. “No?”

“I don’t want him dead, Greg. I want him to rot. Killing him is too easy for that psychopath. He needs to suffer.”

Greg let out a bitter laugh. “Suffer? You think prison is suffering for a man like him?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “He thrives on power. Take that away, and he’s nothing. Let him live long enough to watch everything he built crumble.”

Greg exhaled sharply, clearly frustrated. “And what’s your plan?”

I hesitated. “I can’t tell you everything yet. But I need you to do something for me.”

He crossed his arms. “What?”

“Nathan, Emily’s son.” I responded, crossing my arms.

Greg’s expression darkened. “Emily’s son?”

I nodded. “Smith kidnapped him. That’s why Emily turned on him. We don’t know what he’s capable of, Greg. We need to make sure Nathan is safe.”

Greg was silent for a long moment before he finally nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Good.” I hesitated. “And Mia?”

Greg’s face hardened. “You lost that right when you let her think you were dead and put her through this torture.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I know, but I really love her, Greg. I never stopped and I'll prove it to her once this is over.”

He sighed. “I know.”

Silence stretched between us before Greg finally spoke again. “So, what now?”

I met his gaze. “Now? Now, you forget you saw me.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m serious,” I said. “No one can know I’m alive yet. Not Mia, not Ava, not anyone.”

Greg shook his head. “This is insane.”

I leaned forward, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I need you to trust me.”

Greg let out a frustrated sigh but finally nodded. “Fine. But this better be worth it.”

“It will be.”

I watched as he turned and walked back to his car, my mind racing then I headed back to the hideout.

I pushed open the door to the dimly lit hideout, the familiar scent of old wood greeting me. My body was still tense from the meeting with Greg, but I had gotten what I needed—his cooperation. Now, I just had to make sure everything stayed under control.

As I stepped inside, Emily was sitting on the worn-out couch, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Across from her, Aunt Margaret stood with her arms crossed, her sharp gaze locking onto me the moment I entered.

"You're back," she said, not wasting a second. "How did it go?"

I let out a sigh, shutting the door behind me. "Better than expected," I admitted, tossing my jacket onto a chair. "Greg was shocked to see me, but he's on board. He wants Smith dead, but I managed to convince him to let me handle it."

Emily exhaled in relief, but Margaret wasn’t convinced. "And you trust him?"

"As much as I can trust a man with a temper and a grudge," I muttered. "But right now, we have the same enemy. That’s enough."

Emily stood up, arms wrapping around herself. "So what now?"

I glanced at her. "Now, we follow our plan. Smith won’t see what’s coming."

Aunt Margaret nodded slowly, but I could see the worry in her eyes. "Just be careful, Ethan."

I smirked. “You should have some faith in your nephew, aunt. You know I have nine lives."

She chuckled, “oh I know you do.” She said, rolling her eyes. “I'll just go to bed now, I can't wait to leave this place.”

“Me too, I can't wait for this to be all over. Goodnight.” I responded with a wave.

The thought of one person came to my mind immediately when I got to my room, Mia. I pulled down my shorts and did what I've been doing for the past week every time I thought of my girl.