Dess: Ghost
1527 Words
The grinder screams, steam blasts up, and I’m already two orders behind.
“Oat milk latte for Jess!” I shout over the noise, slapping a lid on the next cup.
My hands move on instinct—grab, pour, press, swipe—while the line snakes past the door.
The scent of roasted beans and vanilla syrup clings to my nostrils, and sweat beads at the back of my neck.
“Double shot, extra hot, no foam!” someone yells.
Got it.
I pivot, dodge a coworker, and spin back to the register with a quick smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. Just another regular morning at 'Spill the Beans'.
My phone vibrates in the pocket of my apron, continuously.
It's a call.
I sneak a hand into the material and dig out the rectangular device. My heart races, and the sweat in my palm increases.
Swiping the green button, I carefully place the phone to my ear.
"Miss Allen?"
"Speaking."
"We need one more espresso," Trish—my coworker—whispers as she rushes by.
I nod, but my mind is far detached from work.
"I'm sorry to disturb your day, but this is about your son, Kayden."
My hands stop on the register.
Switching the phone from one ear to the other, I lean back on my legs. "Yes?"
"We are going to need you to come over."
Finding his office isn't a problem. I've been there so many times I literally have all the turns memorized.
Bashing into the small, cozy office, my green eyes scan frantically, looking for him.
It's empty!
Well, of course, except for the principal.
"Miss Allen," he calls from behind his desk. "Please, have a seat." He gestures to the empty sofa in front of him.
Reluctantly going to sit down, I wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt. "Where is he?"
"He's fine—"
"Where is he?"
"At the hospital."
My breath catches. "Why did you ask me over!?"
He opens his mouth to explain, but I give him no breathing space.
"If you told me, I'd be at the hospital and not here!"
"Miss Allen, please calm down." His voice is collected. "He's stable now. It's you I need to talk to."
I scratch at my fingers, pulling my nails out.
"This cannot continue. The boy needs special treatment..."
I bat my eyes furiously, forcing the tears to remain behind them.
"Kayden's condition is worsening, and he needs professional aid..."
My head blocks the rest of it out.
This isn't the first time he's given this lecture, and something tells me it won't be the last.
But what am I to do?
Treatments are way too costly. I try my best, managing three jobs, but it's barely enough to put food on our table.
The way the principal talks, it's as though I'd intentionally deprive my son of the treatment he deserves. Gosh!
Snap! Sharp pain curses through my body as I pull the nail of my thumb out—I definitely drew blood with that one.
Looking down, my eyes dilate at the sight of blood trickling out, the crimson staining my pale skin. A little warm pool forms at the base of my nail, filling me with relief.
Utter relief.
"Miss Allen?"
I snap out of it, my eyes darting back to the principal who's straining to see what I was staring at.
I push my hand under my skirt. "Yes?"
He sighs, realizing I haven’t been paying attention. "I suggest that you withdraw him from—"
"No!" My voice is firm and urgent. Coughing, I correct my tone. "Please. Don’t do that to us."
He rubs his forehead, creasing the skin even more. "That’s what the therapist suggests. He says it's best that you keep him under constant supervision."
I shake my head, muttering curses underneath my breath.
Leaning forward, he intertwines his fingers in front of him. "These seizures are deadly... When it happens next, it would be best if someone is there with him. This time it was a close call. He was alone in the bathroom..."
The house is empty and smells musty—thanks to all the books I got to try to teach Kay.
Clinging to my hand, he walks in after me, holding an ice cream bag to his mouth with his other hand.
I flip the light switch on, and he squints at the sudden change in brightness. He’s been more responsive lately.
Getting on my knees, I help him pull off his shoes, and he goes dashing into the apartment, forgetting to put the slippers on—again!
Too tired to have that lecture over again, I fling my bag on the couch and go into the kitchen.
Have a microwaved meal, read Kay a bedtime story, then nighty-night. That’s the plan I have for tonight.
My phone rings from the bag, and I rush over to get it.
"Kayden's mom."
A light chuckle echoes from the other side. "Why, hello! Mother of Kayden. You seem to be running late for work."
I sigh. "Called in already to say I won’t be coming."
Her jovial tone switches immediately. "Why? Anything wrong? How’s Kayden?"
Ding dong!
My eyes zap to the door. Then to the clock. Definitely Ryker.
"He had a crisis," I move towards the door. "The principal is asking that I withdraw him."
"What!?" Trish squeals from the other side. "You can’t do that."
"He won’t listen." I turn the key, then the knob. Pulling the door open.
'Hey', he mouths with a smile, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he walks past me.
"Hey, Trish," I turn towards Ryker who’s going into the kitchen. "We’ll talk about it tomorrow."
"Sure."
The line clicks, ending the call.
By the time I return to the kitchen, Ryker is unbagging a whole lot of fresh veggies and other fat-based stuff on the slab.
I pull a tight smile. "You didn’t have to."
"It’s the little I can do for you," he says without looking at me.
Deciding not to hassle him any further, I move to the microwave, turn it off, and take out the plastic plate.
"I brought food," Ryker announces, crashing into me from behind.
Wrapping my hands around his arm, I smile. "I’ll just eat this today."
"Kayden?"
"He ate already."
I’m about to dig into my food, but Ryker wraps his hand around my neck, pushing my head back so he can kiss me from behind.
The position is awkward at first, but I melt into it. Throwing all my worries to the wind and taking full advantage of my one moment to not worry.
His hands find their way to my breasts, squeezing and massaging, making me release a moan into his mouth.
"You taste so good, princess."
My face heats up at the remark. I love when he calls me that!
Pushing my body into his, he gently rubs his hard c**k on my butt, making me want more. Making me fantasize about having his d**k inside me.
I break the kiss and turn to face him, we crash against each other again, kissing frantically like hungry animals—as if we’ve been starved of each other for far too long.
My itchy hand finds his hard-on and I grab it, squeezing gently until he lets out a grunt.
"Fuck..." he breathes, and my heart races at his reaction.
He’s always at my mercy.
Quickly, I unbuckle his belt and pull it away, tugging his trousers down, ready to get bent over the counter.
Little steps rush into the kitchen and we disengage, pretending like we were doing nothing.
"Hey, Kayden." Ryker waves at Kay, who just barged through the open door. Gosh!
His blue eyes stare up at us in confusion.
Deciding to go get him, I unfasten Ryker’s hand from my waist, but my steps halt as he opens his mouth.
He speaks an actual, audible word!
"Daddy."
My eyes flood with tears. My feet are shaky.
It’s the first time I’ve ever heard my baby’s voice—soft, shaky, real. My heart clenches so tight it hurts, and in that moment, it doesn’t matter what he said. He spoke.
He spoke. That's all that matters.
I've never felt joy like this in my entire life.
Approaching him, I smile through my tears. "Yes, baby. Daddy." I turn to Ryker, tears blurring my vision. "I think he’s referring to you."
Ryker smiles, but Kay shakes—shaking his head.
Then he points to the door. "Daddy."
Looking from his face to the door, a ghost appears.
Not a literal ghost, but someone I thought I had shut out of my life. Someone who once upon a time was married to me. Someone who sent people to kill me.
Evander Vanhook.
He’s dressed in an extravagant suit, his hair dark and slicked back—just as usual. And he’s got a huge bouquet of roses in his hand.
Only, he’s not smiling.
His face is set in a tight frown, a storm brewing in the deep blue of his oceanic eyes, and his gaze trained on Ryker.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD