Page 3

Ghost

Great. Just fucking great.

The lumberjack was sticking around. Ghost’s mind raced as he took another drink from his beer and watched the team rally around to discuss the case of Great-Aunt Sophia’s mystery child.

He felt like an asshole for wishing Ray would hurry up and leave when he was so obviously needed to help Brick solve a mystery that’d been plaguing the team leader for years. He sighed. For now, he’d put on his happy face; he was good at faking being fine, so that part shouldn’t be a problem. The real concern was his growing attraction to the hulking man, who made Ghost’s heart beat faster with every look. Part of him was exhilarated, another shit scared. How messed up am I to be to be attracted to something that scares me? Jeez, I need therapy.

A few team members saw a therapist in town; maybe he should look into it.

There was no way on earth he’d ever feel comfortable in this man’s presence, let alone be able to act somehow on his attraction to him. He’d never allowed himself to behave impulsively or veer too far off the walled path he’d created to keep himself safe throughout life. Ghost glanced around the table, finding almost everyone’s attention placed on adding to the detective’s growing must-do list, everyone except Conor, who was smiling while staring straight at Ghost. He knew. Shit. Ghost suddenly needed air.

Without warning or a word, he pushed his chair back, scraping the legs harshly against the tile, and stood, effectively silencing all discussion around him.

“Um, I’m going for a walk,”

he explained before taking off for the patio door like the hounds of hell were snapping at his heels.

Ghost had to put some space between himself and Ray, even if it was a short hiatus. He could return to the ranch instead, because there was no way he’d be able to stay here with Ray under the same roof. He’d still be able to practice his ability out at the ranch.

Ghost rounded the firepit, not really paying attention to what direction he was heading, and found himself stepping onto the dock. It was quiet near the water with no one else around, and that was exactly what he needed: peace. He tried to calm his thoughts; the day had kept coming at him from all angles.

Staring out across the water, he was seconds away from taking a dip into Fire Lake when something—or someone—distracted him. He spun on his heels only to find he’d been followed.

“Going for a swim?”

Conor asked with his typical smile.

“Funny. The man’s got jokes,”

Ghost grumbled as he maneuvered around the uninvited guest. “Why are you following me?”

“I thought you might want someone to hash it out with.”

“Hash what out with?”

“Really? You can’t pretend with me, and I suspect you know that, and that’s why you left the kitchen in such a flurry.”

“I’m beginning to understand Gunner’s point about living with you,”

Ghost said. “Some shit should be left alone.”

“Is that what you want—to allow yourself to fester?”

“Fester. That’s a nice choice of words, dude. I’m a pus-filled wound?”

“Or the intransitive verb, a situation, problem, or feeling of festering, you disapprove of the fact that it is allowed to grow more unpleasant or full of anger because it’s not being properly recognized or dealt with.”

“Shit. My respect for your grumpy, over-protective partner is growing by the second.”

Conor laughed, making Ghost smile even though he didn’t want to. “He’ll be glad to hear that. It’s not all bad. With me around you, you never have to worry about making someone understand how and why you feel a certain way. Cause I already know.”

“That is both scary and oddly comforting in equal measure.”

“Story of my life, man. Deal with it. Now, back to your situation.”

Ghost picked up the pace and headed for the tree line; a good hike might help. Unfortunately, Conor was keeping pace, and any hopes of losing the guy grew slimmer by the second. He could go ghost and disappear, but that would require him to stop and strip out of his clothing.

“I’d still feel your emotions and know where you are,”

Conor answered without Ghost saying a word. “So, let’s discuss this internal fight you’re having regarding the detective.”

“I’d rather stick pine needles under my nails,”

Ghost said honestly.

“Don’t worry; it’s only hard to open up the first time,”

Conor assured.

“Since when are you my therapist?”

“Therapist, friend, teammate, I wear many hats comfortably. Now, quit skirting the question. What’s going on? There’s no reason to be ashamed of being attracted to the man, especially around here. You can’t wave a stick around here without hitting a gay man.”

“Because I don’t want to be.”

God, he sounded like a petulant child.

“You don’t like him because of how he acted when you first met?”

“No. Hell, if someone randomly appeared out of nowhere in front of me, I’d start throwing fists and asking questions later. I’m lucky I didn’t get punched.”

He was truly thankful for Ray’s restraint.

“Are you embarrassed?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

There could be a multitude of things in his life to be embarrassed about.

“Passing out there for a second when all the shit went down or being naked in front of a stranger?”

Conor cocked an eyebrow.

“No, the whole naked thing really doesn’t faze me at all anymore. I’m pretty sure it bugs others more than myself.”

“What about the passing out?”

“It wasn’t one of my finer moments,”

Ghost admitted, “but I can rack that up to all the other embarrassing shit I’ve done since I began taking practicing my ghosting more seriously.”

“Yeah, that time you tried to go into the lake camouflaged had unexpected results.”

Conor was obviously fighting the urge to chuckle.

“That fuckin’ fish tried to swim straight through me. You would have freaked out in the same situation.”

“True. You’re extremely brave, putting yourself through all this to help us. I appreciate it.”

“You do?”

Ghost said, stopping beside an old oak to look Conor straight in the eyes and confirm he was serious. He’d always thought the team kinda saw him as a joke. Fumbling around like an idiot in the dark naked and searching for some scraps of control over his freakish ability.

Conor’s face turned dark. His eyes became steely, and his lips thinned into a severe line. What the hell have I done wrong now?

“You aren’t a freak. You’re a valued team member, and no one views you as any less than the rest of us. You’ve been working hard to control your ability, and in fact, men on this team, one specific man I love beyond all reason, owe his very life to you and what you did back in that factory by disarming the bomb while ghosting. I never want you to feel less than anyone or assume you know what others think of you from this moment forward because it’s all false. I understand that this may take some time for you to work through, so I will happily remind you regularly. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Ghost had never seen Conor this angry before. The dude was always calm and friendly, with a smile and a positive word to say. However, it seemed this was Conor 2.0. The fuck-around-and-find-out Conor. The take-no-shit Conor, and the man who could stand toe to toe with any badass the team faced. Ghost couldn’t help but want to be like him.

“The only way for you to move forward and grow into the person you’re meant to be is by letting all that shit go. You are good enough, and those who made you feel as if you weren’t are of no value to your current life. You need to shed it like an old coat, let it go, and pick a new one that fits you better.”

By the end, the old Conor had returned; his welcoming smile was back in place, and his concern was evident.

“How the hell do you do that?”

Ghost asked.

“What?”

“Cut to the core of a person so precisely. Like a surgeon with a scalpel, you go straight to the tumor that’s sucking the life out of someone and attempt to excise it. To make the person feel better and survive.”

If Ghost wasn’t seeing things, he was positive Conor blushed.

“I’ve never heard it put that way before.”

“But it fits. I’m already feeling better than before I left the house.”

“Good. Now, back to the topic at hand. What about Ray has you literally sprinting away from your attraction to him? From what I’ve been told, he’s a stand-up guy, and with his honest willingness to help Brick with the investigation, I haven’t seen or felt anything to indicate anything different. He may be anxious about returning to Marshall, but returning to your hometown isn’t always like a Hallmark movie.”

“It’snot ideal to pursue anything with him or anyone. Besides, the guy has zero interest in anything related to me. We aren’t exactly at the same level. He’s a detective in Seattle, and I’m a mutant on the run from a psychotic group bent on collecting me, along with others like me, to use to gain power. Pretty well opposites and not exactly dating material.”

Ghost had to laugh at the situation. Here they were trying to prevent some crazy shit from going down, and he and Conor were discussing his love life or lack thereof.

“Did you date much?”

Connor asked.

“No, that wasn’t a top priority for me. Growing up, I mainly tried to stay out of the way and stay alive with relatively few injuries. My existence was based on survival and what I needed to do to ensure I made it to the next day.”

Facts were facts.

“Aren’t you tired of simply surviving now that you have the safety of this community?”

“How do you turn off the only instinct you’ve depended on for your entire life? It’s not simply a matter of saying, ‘Oh, I’m relatively safe now, so I can act like any other person’ because I can’t. I don’t even think I want to be a normal, well-adjusted member of society anymore. I want to be alive.”

Conor sighed heavily. “What is normal and well-adjusted, and who the hell decided what it should be? I’m so tired of the masses thinking that if you’re not the same as they are, then you’re abnormal. We all have our own hang-ups, differences, problems, and freaky shit to deal with. Trust me when I say I’ve seen into their minds, and not one person is the same as the other. There’s no standard to go by. We’re all fucked up one way or another.”

Ghost shook his head in disagreement. “You can’t stand there and tell me someone who can disappear into the scenery like a chameleon has the same screwed-up issues as the local corner store dude pumping gas.”

“Really? You’re more alike than you think,”

Conor said, raising his hand and beginning to count with his fingers. “Acceptance, safety, security, family, love, and happiness are all things both of you want and need. What does it matter that your genetic makeup was fucked with and that other person’s wasn’t? You both deserve all those things and more.”

“Deserve and attainable are two different things.”

“Nothing is attainable unless you’re willing to take the first steps. That’s the point. It doesn’t have to be here and now with this man. That’s not what I’m trying to convince you of. What I’m hoping to get through to you is that someday, somewhere, you have to allow yourself the chance to have what you view as unattainable because you deserve to have those things, even if you believe you’ll never be able to have them. You have to give yourself a chance.”

Ghost stood frozen in the middle of the forest beside Fire Lake, having his first come-to-Jesus moment or existential crisis, awakening, whatever the hell you wanted to call it. He was smack-dab in the middle of ground zero as the realization swam laps in his brain. Was he the reason he couldn’t move forward and not what those bastards had done to him? Could it be as clear-cut as that, and could he get past it? Did he have the power to do it? Did he want to?

Huh. Seemed he had a little thinking to do.