Ghosts. (On hold)

Chapter 1.

The coppery smell of blood is strong around me. Mixed with a strong mildew and mold scent. I hear the laboured breathe of the thirty something man I have tied to a old fold out chair.

We're in a one room abandoned warehouse in downtown L.A. The roof looks like it's going to cave in. Rickson Walters. Number two, to my fathers top enemy. Xavier Conners.

I've already broken two of his fingers, broke a couple ribs and his nose. I was told to torture and get information from Walters, then to kill him.

He won't crack yet. So I've taken to leaning up against a nearby wall for the past fifteen minutes. Playing games on my phone. Tetris to be exact.

"Are you ready to spill yet?" I ask him. Keeping my voice in a bored tone. I glance up over to the top of my phone. The fucker is almost passed out.

I pull my pocket knife out of my knee high leather boot. I walk on near silent feet over to the idiot. Using a fraction of my strength, far stronger then an ordinary eighteen year old girl, I ram my knife into his thigh. His shriek is music to my ears.

His nostrils flare, white his ragged breathing gets stronger. "Fucking stupid bitch." He snarls at me. I bat my eyelashes and give him a sweet and innocent smile.

"Look," I say while I straighten my posture. "Just tell me what Xavier wants that is in L.A. And I'll let you go. My orders were never to kill, just torture and get some information." I twirl a red lock around my finger and give a pouty look. Playing dumb works on men like Walters.

He let out a low chuckle. "Well aren't you a pretty thing? How about this. I'll give you some information for a little something in return. We could have a lot of fun you and I." Gross.

I twirled my hair again. And gave him a coy smile. "Sounds like a good time." Gross. Ew. Yuck.

"He's looking for his son."

I slowly pulled my gun out of the strap across my back. "Thanks!" I said cheerfully, as I pulled the trigger. Sending the bullet between the middle of his eyes.

That was easy. A little too easy.

......

The warehouse is only a few blocks away from Grand Merry High School. My high school. My first mistake was not leaving a car outside the warehouse. My second mistake was not bringing a change of clothing with me.

My once shiny knee high black leather boots are now splattered with blood. My leather jacket is the same. But my white tank top takes the cake. It's so covered with blood it looks as if I was the one shot or stabbed.

And now I have to walk back to the school looking like this.

All my thoughts about my appearance dissipate when I get close to my car. My sister and her slimy ass boyfriend are leaning up against it. Cleo could do so much better then this gross football player. But she claims 'Its true love Marley.'

Rider is the name of her buffoon. As I approach closer to them, he glances over Cleo's head at me. His face blanches, skin going pale. Paler then Cleo's porcelain white skin.

I stop a few strides away. Watching as his eyes look me over. From the Blood splatters on my face to my newly stained tank top. Eyes widen with horror. "Are you okay MJ?"

MJ. His pet name for me. I roll my eyes. Cleo deciding to acknowledge my existence, finally turns around and gasps at the sight of me. Bringing her hand to her mouth. I roll my eyes at that too. "I'm just fine Riley. Why don't you get your sticky ass off my car so I can go home and shower?" I growl the question at him.