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Dylan rights himself on his feet, inhaling another lungful of toxic chemicals. “What’s with the get up?”

“Cameras,” I respond, jutting my thumb over my shoulder at the one mounted by the corner of the building.

“Don’t worry about those, they wipe them every night. Boss’s orders.”

“Mmm, and who’s the Boss?”

He shakes his head slowly at me. “Only trusted people know his real name.”

“And you’re not one of them I’m guessing?” He sneers at me. “Didn’t think so.” I step closer to him, emboldened by the weight of the switchblade in my hoodie pocket. “Let’s start with an easier question… Did you know Randal?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you anything? I have half a mind to call the Boss back, and let him know there’s a little bitch sniffing around.”Wow, rude.

“I’ll make it worth it…” I coo, inching the zipper of my sweater down to the top of my cleavage.

This grimy fuck licks his lips as his slimy gaze rakes over me. “Yeah, okay. I knew Randal. What do you want with him?”

“He was my dealer,” I lie.

“Ah, and you’re looking for a new hook up?”

“Something like that. What about Dennis, did you know him?”

“Yeah, everyone knew Dennis. He was the head contact for Crystal Creek.” Well that’s new and disturbing information.

“What about Barbra?”

He shakes his head, “I didn’t know her, but Dennis made sure everyone knew she was his. As was her daughter. No one got anywhere near ‘em without his say so.” He was whoring my mother out too?

“What do you mean?”

“Rumour was that Barb was the brains behind the whole thing. The actual main contact between the outskirts and the city. Dennis was just the man willing to get his hands dirty so he appeared dangerous.”

“So they were a team?”

“If that’s what you want to call it, sure. Doesn’t matter much now though, seein’ as they’re both dead.”

That’s true. “So, who’s Bellamy?”

“Now that’s someone else you’ll definitely have to earn any information on.” He turns, moving into the woods behind the pub. “Come on now, I got places to be soon.”

I let the smile spread across my face beneath the maskas I follow him into the trees. He isn’t going to have anywhere to be soon.

Ghost

Like a true siren, she entrances another helpless victim, luring him to a painful demise. I move alongside them through the trees, keeping a safe distance.

I knew something was off with Mal. I’ve known it since the Haunt. She’s been distant, lost in her thoughts. Not in the checked-out way she was before, but more like she’s consumed by a never ending cycle of thoughts. She’s been jumpy, unsettled, and no amount of comforting on my part has helped her open up. It’s forced me to flip to night shift, and resume stalking my obsession. Late into the first night, she sat at the island, pouring over things she had written out for an hour beforehand. Only to bang her head against the granite counter top in frustration when whatever she was trying to figure out wouldn’t show itself to her. Last night, a heart-stopping wail broke the silence. Not knowing what the fuck was happening, I raced to the window. Completely uncaring if in that moment I revealed myself. When I got to the glass, she was gone. The slamming of the back door was loud in the silent night, calling me to the backyard. Peeking around the corner of the house, I witnessed her lighting up whatever was written on those pages in the fire pit. Any hope I had at snooping for answers went up in flames, literally.

From my old path through the trees, I watched her leave this evening. Following behind her at a far enough distance I wouldn’t be seen. The little blue dot on myphone stopped updating after she pulled into this shit-hole of a bar. Evidently, she shut off her phone. I didn’t know why she was here at first, but after listening to her question the slob in the dirty t-shirt, I know she’s looking for answers.

I keep my boots cemented to the moist earth as I watch this man curl his hands around my woman’s upper arms, and push her into a tree. Red hot rage infiltrates my mind, snuffing out rational thought. How dare she put herself in danger. Maybe I won’t swoop in to save the damsel in distress. Serves her right for not confiding in me, or asking for help from the person she claims is the other half of her soul.

She lets the stranger grind up on her, nuzzling his grungy fucking face into the crook of her neck. Mal moans, this breathy sweet sound that’s meant only for me, and something in my chest cracks. “Lose the mask, it’s killing the mood,” he says, hands releasing her arms, and moving to fumble with the zipper on Mallory’s sweater.My sweater.

Ignoring his request, her hand slips out of the hoodie pocket, caressing up his arm, and around the back of his neck. I watch devastated as her fingers twist and tangle in small curls of his hair, while her other hand dances across his shoulder, and trails up the back of his neck.

Gently, her fingers trace up and down the top of the man’s spine until he’s shivering from pleasure in her embrace. “Take off your pants,” she whispers, and my heart stops. The man groans against her as he releases her body from his touch. His hands move in betweentheir bodies, fumbling with his zipper, as Mal pushes his head down into her chest.