GUTEMBERG (Ghost)
Every government has laws.
Every crime has a purpose.
Every society has rules.
It's pure logic, we're just so obsessed with the idea of freedom that we don't see the obvious. We are still the same. Turns out it's so much more, It's easy to pretend there's no control. The laws in the criminal world are simple, but here there is a crown, a prickly and bloody, an ammo belt under the head, and each decision is minimally thought out to cause the smallest impact. Which also means that the king's orders must be obeyed.
I clear my throat, scratching the back of my neck as Timmy cleans his pistol. As if last night never existed.
"Are you well?"he asks with a smile provocative on the lips, glad enough to make me opine how many times has he participated in torture. Many must be the answer. For someone like Timmy, born and raised in the community, episodes of violence come naturally. But no for me.
I try not to look like I'm about to puke just looking at all the blood all over the couch, because that would make me weak, but fuck it.
"That shit is disgusting."I say this when one of the guys responsible for security on the hill sits next to the pool of blood and bites into his sandwich. Without making a face.
"Relax, man." Timmy says and I squint my eyes in his direction. He's no older than eighteen, but from the amount of tattoos and muscle on his body, he could be older than me.
"I am fine." I say, tracing circles on my jeans with my fingertips. He huffs but doesn't say anything else. Which I thank mentally.
"What are you going to do with Pryia?"the guy with the sandwich asks, still sitting next to the pool of blood.
I grimace.
"Don't speak that bitch's name."growl, clenching hands into fists ready to brand the motherfucker's face.
I haven't forgotten about the cheater for a moment since I found out about the cheating and was on my way to sort it out when Timmy called me and said the boss needed to talk.
A whole night of fucking torture!
Not me.
The sucker who decided to sell the formula I created to the Mexicans without our fucking authorization.
Of course, which brings me to Pryia CHEATER.
Everyone thinks Blake runs the hill, but he died less than two years ago and since then the only one on the front line is his younger brother Olav, or as he prefers to be called, Midnight. The guy was seventeen when he watched his brother being murdered and then had to bury him alone, I don't believe that at that moment he had the audacity to take his place, but that's what happened.
"She left."Timmy says and my attention falls on him.
"What you mean?"I ask, finally feeling enough to stand up and not throw up.
"Anything.
I click my tongue, shrugging.
"It didn't seem like anything half a minute ago.
A low, chuckling sound leaves her throat.
"That cunt really messed with your head, didn't it?
Anger explodes through my veins. First, because he is right on one level. Pryia always had control under me for a while and now that I've discovered the beautiful pair of horns she made especially for my head, I'm borderline obsessed.
The sandwich guy, who looks like he's finished his meal and looks like he really wants to suck me, snorts and points his finger toward the door.
"What!?"I shout at him.
"Everyone is calling you a cuckold.”
I open and close my mouth, my eyes narrowing on the door.
"Shit!"
Timmy starts laughing and walks over to my side, patting my shoulder in a friendly way.
I see everything red.
"Who is calling me that?" my eyes don't leave the door for a second. The adrenaline of having witnessed a murder for the first time still coursing through my body.
"Face…" Timmy starts, but I push his arm away and glare at the sandwich guy.
"Who the fuck?! I want names!"
He stares at me for a few seconds in shock. Before shaking his head in the negative. I grab him by the shirt and slam my fist into his stomach.
Someone curses in the background, but I'm so focused I don't hear the protests until someone pulls me off the worm.
"What the fuck is this in my fucking house?!" I blink a few times before focusing on Huxley's youthful but extensively scarred face, I mean Midnight. It's hard to disassociate the face from the name when you've known the person for so long.
"He attacked me, boss!" the sandwich guy says and I roll my eyes. He doesn't know that Midnight is actually the boss, but he thinks he's second to Blake and he's afraid it will get back to him.
"Ghost is upset because his girlfriend left with a sugar daddy and Crazy, there." he points to the sandwich guy. " Likes to play with fire."
I growl. Why, fuck! She traded me for an old man really?
"I just said everyone was calling him a cuckold."
Sandwich says, looking annoyed that Timmy didn't stand up for him.
"Like I said, playing with fire. Nobody calls a drug dealer a cuckold."
I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head in Timmy's direction.
"I already said I'm not a drug dealer."I talk.
He raises both hands in the air with a bored face.
"It only produces."
" That's completely different." I blink at him.
"Dude, if you're so pissed off at the horns, why don't you get even?" it's the sandwich guy talking.
I run my tongue between my parched lips, realizing that I have no idea how many hours it's been since I drank water, and that makes me more irritable. I have a routine, a strict diet and the exact amount of water I should drink a day.
"II would love to drag that bitch up the hill by her hair, take off all her clothes and humiliate her in front of her family, but she ran away to another country so…"
"And her sister?" he speaks, and my feet lock in half the way to the refrigerator.
"Who?" I arch an eyebrow, but before he has a chance to respond, Timmy is sticking his gun in the unfortunate man's mouth and spitting out threats.
"Don't speak her name, don't look at her, don't fucking think about her!"
Just when I think he's going to kill the wretch, his body relaxes and he slowly turns towards me, gun still in hand.
"Davina has nothing to do with your shit with Pryia, Phantom. Leave her out of this."
Davina.
The name echoes in my mind throughout the night and the next day. Firstly, I had no idea that Pryia had a teenage sister, and secondly, but no less importantly, what will I do with this information?
Ignoring the discovery was proving to be a difficult task, especially after Timmy practically declared his possession of the girl like a damned caveman. His mistake. This only increased my curiosity.
I rub my face with the palm of my hand and turn on the faucet, it's been over forty-eight hours since I left the house, and I'm sure my cell phone has been bombarded with messages and calls from my little sister, she usually doesn't mind when I'm out, probably the opposite of that, but since I got so much lectured by jimmy I decided to spare my ears the perfect dad rants from him and send my best friend to babysit.
Not for free.
Never for free.
But since he's tasted my special recipes, I'm his private source of supply. Of course, none of us two talks about my extracurricular role, though I suspect he has his own closet secrets.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and go straight to his contact number, waving when Blake walks past me and waves.
"Are you already going?"he asks without looking at me, opening the fridge and grabbing an apple.
"I need to check on my sister." I justify, shrugging my shoulders up. I usually don't spend more than a day on the hill, although I have a house here too.
He frowns and grimaces.
"Sister." he repeats.
"Yes, you met her back then." I twist my face. " For a few minutes."
Huxley snorts, biting into the apple angrily.
"But for her trying to kill me." he groans and lets out a chuckle.
"That was just a little girl defending herself." I explain, though he didn't ask for a justification and frankly, he doesn't need one. Morgana lives in a diamond-colored bubble and thought her home had been invaded, so she acted impulsively and hit her head with a pan? Problem. I was proud. "Besides, people try to kill him every day." I add.
"Whatever." he says and silence falls between us until finally Vincent mutters from the other side of the line.
"What the hell!" fumes, half sleepy." What time is it?" I let my eyes wander to the watch on my wrist and whistle.
"More than waking time, Cinderella."
"Rapunzel." I look up at Midnight.
"As?"
"The right princess is Rapunzel, not Cinderella."speaks, the tone almost condescending.
I crack a smile.
"And you know so much about princesses..."
He holds up his middle finger and snarls half a dozen curses.
My smile widens.
"Where are you the in the end?" Vincent retakes my attention."It's a day and night late."
Sigh.
"There was an unforeseen." Huxley throws the half-eaten apple in the trash and opens the cupboard.to the pans, taking out a milk jug and filling it with tap water. I watch as he sets aside the bowl of coffee, opens the drawer of spoons, and pretends he isn't paying attention to my conversation."I am on my way." I close the connection, support the shoulder on the wall and wait for him to start talking.
"Do you still keep that part of your life a secret?"question.
Vualá.
"I should not?" he looks at me for a second before he decides it's not worth it and goes back to focusing on the coffee grounds.
I roll my eyes.
"What?" I ask.
"Anything."
"Man, I need to go find my parents and talk to my sister. I will be back later."
"I need you to be here today." Huxley says, and I stare at him again.
"Why?" I ask when he goes silent again.
"You'll know when you're here."
I run my hand over my face and nod, because I knew I couldn't keep the two sides of my world apart much longer, but I thought I'd have more time.
GUTEMBERGI slide the gate bolt slowly, checking over my shoulder to see if any lights have come on since I locked the front door, when I realize they haven't, I let out a sigh of relief and look down. I stare at my bare, dirty feet, then scenes from last night explode inside my head and the smell of blood hits me.The blood is stuck to my clothes and skin, a clear note of what I've done.In my right hand, my phone vibrates non-stop.I crush the urge to answer the call and throw the device away, it hits the wall and falls to the floor.My parents have an important place in society, a place inherited from my father's family, a place my mother will never relinquish, a position I have never had the option of denying. To all the important people in San Diego, I am Gutemberg Ramsey, a promising lawyer with a penchant for dangerous sports, fast romances and a born activist. To the underprivileged part of West City, a place we call the Hill, I'm the right-hand man of the local drug dealer.Mi
DAVINAThe blanket I chose earlier today, the same one I've been using since I was thirteen and welcomed as a favorite after Grandma confessed that she sewed it herself, barely covers the bed, leaving a third of the mattress exposed. The thing is, I refuse to change the blanket and get a new one.Even with the bedroom door locked, I can hear my parents arguing, every day they find a new reason to fight, even if the reason is something silly like leaving the orange peel in the sink. It's nonsense, we all know that Mom blames Dad for Pryia's departure. Another piece of nonsense. My sister has always hated this place and was going to leave sooner or later, it just happened to be soon enough to drive Mom crazy.I throw myself back on the bed, drowning among the lined pillows. My sister used to tease me about this as a child, pointing out how strange I was for having so many pillows around me that there was no room left for me on the mattress.The memory makes me look away, at her empty, t
DAVINA'' Mrs. Carter? One minute, please.''I freeze in place, my breathing wavering when I hear his footsteps behind me.He shouldn't be talking to me here, not when we're alone. Someone might notice.'' What? '' I ask, but my voice is so low and hoarse that it's more like a grunt.Tom looks around before closing the distance between us, then when he's sure there's no one near, his fingers touch my cheek and lips.'' I missed you this weekend." His tone is sweet, so sweet that I want to smile, but I can't. He and I aren't going to happen anymore. It's not going to happen anymore.'' And your fiancée? '' a wrinkle appears between his eyebrows and his body tenses, but all he does is shake his head. I still hoped he would deny it.'' I don't love her.'''' She's expecting you, baby. '' I accuse, pulling away from his touch.'' Yes, she set me up. I'm going to marry her just to give my daughter a family. ''I wrinkle my nose.'' Fine, then go back to her and stay away from me.'''' No,
GUTEMBERGMy eyes flick towards Timmy and I focus on the tattoo on his neck, it's just a number, an eight, but he's never explained the meaning to anyone. The two of us are having yet another argument over it, his little protégé and my newest obsession.If he only knew what I know about his little darling."You're the one who keeps talking about her. "I reply, and his jaw clenches. He's one step away from hitting me in the face, the only thing stopping him is his weakened state.I was having fun with our little debate until he started talking about my other name, not the real one, the one no one here should hear."Shut the fuck up! There is no Phantom here, only Gutemberg." Remember that, no one can know about my other life.I'm sure he can see that he's crossed a line, but there will be no apologies. I can see in his eyes that he will do anything to get me away from Davina, including blackmailing me. Likewise, I need to think about all my future steps from here. I still want to make
DAVINA I shouldn't drink. At least, I shouldn't drink anything alcoholic before I was the right age. The thing is, I needed a drink. A lot. The conversation I had with Timmy three days ago in hospital both terrified me and created a certain hope, which is crazy, since he made me promise to stay away from Gutemberg Ramsey under threat, yes, Gutemberg Ramsey, I say his full name because he's not there, in fact, I've repeated his name countless times since I found out, and I don't intend to stop. He could also be a Ghost, considering I'd never seen him before that day in the hospital, and I've never been so scared in someone's presence. Scared and on all fours. I nearly had a heart attack when he opened the bedroom door and I fell to my knees on the floor in the most humiliating position. Urgh. Unbelievable. I rest my eyes on the three blinking dots on the cell phone Sissy has been typing on since I told her about my sister's ex leading a double life. I wasn't sure I was going to t
DAVINA I'm so immersed in the conversation with Sissy that I only notice the confusion around me when it's too late. My mom yells at my dad, defending Pryia and blaming him, again, the chaotic news is that he responds with the same intensity. I almost reach for my headphones before she sends him away from the house screaming.In an instant, I jump out of bed and hurry into the living room to avoid a bigger disaster.I'm also reaching my limit with them, it's like my parents have been replaced by beings from another planet. Before Priya left, I don't remember witnessing fights between them, in fact, they barely communicated beyond what was necessary. I think their marriage wasn't going well and my sister's sudden departure was the trigger."What are you doing?" All the neighbors will hear it!"Stay out of it, Davina. My father grumbled, looking disoriented. As I approached him, I realized why. He was drunk, something that was becoming more and more frequent."Your father lost all
GUTEMBERGI ran my finger down the page of the book one last time, memorizing the final sentence and reflecting on it for a second before saying goodbye to the story.If anyone asks me, I don't like books. A lie I've invented and reinvented several times to erase the memory of an altruistic and loving mother who no longer exists. For the gossip sites, I'm the stripped-down and adventurous heir. For the members and brothers of the faction I'm part of, I'm the shadow, the blade, the Ghost. Most of them don't know where I came from or what my real role is, but they all look for me.But in my room, I'm a lover of contemporary novels. It all started with biographies, then adventure and mystery books, then somehow I stumbled across novels.I rest my head on the pillow and retrieve my cell phone from between the sheets. As soon as it lights up, Midnight's name appears. He wants me to go back to the Hill and deal with his new pet, Aaron Taylor. I say a huge no, because I'm not a bloody babysit
DAVINAThe square was deserted. Not even the sound of a breeze dared to break the silence. The yellowish lights of the streetlamps cast long, restless shadows, distorting the outline of the benches and sparse trees. My heart beat like a muffled storm. I looked at him with hatred. Ghost. That nickname came to mind as naturally as the contempt I felt. If Gutemberg had disappeared with my sister, then now I would disappear with his peace.I crouched down, clutching the shard of glass I'd found on the ground earlier. Just one blow to the rearview mirror... that's all, I kept repeating in my head. The thought of destroying something of his ignited a dark rage that I tried to control.But before I could act, I heard the familiar sound of a car door opening. It descended slowly, as if waiting for something. His silhouette stood out against the streetlamp, tall and calm. He always seemed to be in control, always one step ahead, as if I were the rebellious girl he could ignore. This irritated m
GUTEMBERGI feel KJ's hands squeezing mine, pulling them away from his neck as he coughs up blood, the hoarse noise cutting through the air. It's not the first time I've seen a man in despair, but that doesn't stop me from feeling a sadistic satisfaction at seeing him there, choking on his own rot. But KJ's security guards are already pulling me, trying to get me away from him, and confusion takes over the scene. They don't know whether to hit me or just keep quiet. Their fear is evident on their faces.Our gazes meet, and the tension is palpable. I feel my body heat up with rage as I stare at the bastard, with a fury that threatens to spill over, but I need to keep control. I've already made a mistake, I know that. I'm putting Davina at risk. I know that, but the anger still controls me, and the words come out impulsively.“Stupid kid,” KJ coughs with a dirty smile, trying to provoke me. “What the hell are you doin
GUTEMBERGWhile I was trying to organize my thoughts, one of the security guards entered the room. He leaned over to KJ and whispered something in his ear, quickly, too low for me to pick up. KJ frowned, but his expression soon changed to something that was a mixture of fury and excitement."Excuse me, Gutemberg. Something seems to require my immediate attention." He stood up, straightening his suit, and left the room with firm steps.I watched his every move, like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike. I had no idea what had happened, but KJ's reaction told me it was something big. Maybe it was my chance to do something there, but the security guard who remained in the room stared at me, his eyes analyzing me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.I took a deep breath, controlling my racing pulse. My mind raced, considering options. I could take the photo album with me. If I had access to the girls' families, I might be able to help them. But that would put me directl
GUTEMBERGStill holding the photo album, I felt a tremor run through my body. Each page turned was a punch in the gut, a raw and revolting demonstration of the monstrosity that surrounded me. The faces of the girls, some so young they could have been in high school, stared at me with empty expressions, as if every spark of hope had already been ripped out of them.It was unbearable.“The best on the market, Gutemberg. We hand-picked them,” said KJ, with a disgusting smile and eyes shining with an enthusiasm that made my blood boil.The words hit me like a slap. I clutched the album so hard that my knuckles turned white. Every inch of me was screaming to explode, but I remained seated, forcing myself to keep a neutral expression. Morgana. My mind went back to my younger sister. She's the age of most of these girls; it could be her there, portrayed so brutally, reduced to a worthless piece of meat.“Premium product, you see. Nothing less. And that's the fun of it: customers pay a fortun
GUTEMBERGI passed the bouncers without hesitation, but the weight of the stares on my back was palpable. Inside the nightclub, the bass music pulsed, almost drowned out by the walls. The air was thick with smoke and tension. Whatever was waiting for me, it didn't look good.I walked through the nightclub with firm but unhurried steps. My gaze went from one side to the other, registering every face, every action, every detail that might be useful to me later. The men in suits stood out, scattered strategically between the gaming tables and the bar. Most of them were accompanied by women in minimal clothing, some without tops. They circulated around the room carrying trays of filled glasses. The smell of booze, cigarettes and a slight hint of metal hung in the air, making the atmosphere stifling.Poker tables and casino machines glittered in one corner, attracting groups of patrons looking for luck or distraction. It was obvious that the money kept flowing in. Everything was calculated
GUTEMBERGMy fingers skimmed across the page in a hurry, a habit I picked up as soon as I started reading physical books - that's another thing about me, I prefer real books to e-books. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, a book resting in my hands. The low light from the lamp highlighted the shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere of calm. The novel I was reading was one full of twists and turns and tragedy, my favorite kind, especially if the main character is the hero and the villain at the same time. I was at an important moment in the story, Carl Pickett has just discovered that he has a brain tumor and only a few months to live, so he catches his girlfriend and his best friend in bed and decides he's going to do whatever he wants. His first act, to take his friend's wife. I keep my passion for romance a secret for one reason: vulnerability.The high-pitched sound of the phone vibrating on the side table interrupted the silence. I blinked, letting my finger mark the page,
AARON MILLERKJ left us at a table with a calculated smile before disappearing into the VIP wing. The heavy door closed behind him with a slam, isolating us from whatever was going on inside. I knew that the game had hidden layers. It always had. But that didn't matter. That night, I couldn't lose.The first game was easy. Chips slid towards me while the other players gave me suspicious looks. A second quick win turned the stares into something more aggressive. When I won the third round in a row, the atmosphere became as tense as a steel wire about to snap."There's something wrong here," one of the guys muttered, throwing his cards on the table. He had broad shoulders and a scar that cut across his eyebrow. "You're stealing, kid.""Stealing?" I raised my hands, trying to sound calm, but feeling the adrenaline rise. "I didn't know luck was a crime."Davina, next to me, gasped softly, her expression vacillating between concern and fear. I could feel the panic starting to take hold of
AARON MILLERThe music in the nightclub vibrated like a deaf drum in my ears, but the only thing I could feel clearly was Davina. My hand rested on her waist, and the warmth of her skin felt like an instant addiction. Every curve fit perfectly in the palm of my hand, an overwhelming, suffocating sensation that told me she should be there, with me.We started walking towards the entrance and she shivered. I squeezed her waist and leaned in, pressing my lips against her shoulder."It's okay,” I whispered, my voice low enough not to be heard by anyone else, even though there was no one close enough.Davina turned her face to me, her eyes burning with that fire that only she had, and even without a word, I knew she believed me. I smiled at her, as if everything was under control, even though inside me the adrenaline was rushing like lightning.When I got to the door, the security guard stared at me. He was bald, with a thick red beard. A tattoo of scratches covered the left side of his fa
DAVINAI rolled my eyes, a mixture of frustration and exasperation, trying to ignore the way he seemed to be amused by my reaction. Silly muscles."Hurry up and get dressed, Aaron," I replied, trying to stay focused and play the indifferent one. No woman needs to boost a man's ego. "We don't have much time."He patted my shoulder, more as a gesture of mockery than comfort. I ignored him and turned away, trying to stay calm, but I knew he was doing something. When I turned back, he was ready.What I didn't expect was the impact his appearance would have on me. Aaron was dressed completely in black. Black top, black pants, black sneakers. The outfit highlighted everything I tried not to notice. What really caught my eye was how the black highlighted his gray hair, making him look darker and more handsome, almost as if he wasn't from this world. I found myself staring longer than I should have, an uncomfortable but undeniable sensation sprea
DAVINADAVINA"I don't." His voice came out harsher than he probably intended. "My parents blocked my account. They don't trust me with money, not until I..." He paused, his eyes avoiding mine."Until you what?" My brow furrowed.Aaron shrugged, as if it wasn't important. But I could smell it—it was important, at least to him."It's too long and twisted a story for now."He walked back into the kitchen, and I watched him, feeling the desperation growing inside me. I knew I was asking for something big, but I also knew that Aaron was one of the few people who could help me."I need your help, Aaron. Please." My voice almost broke at the end.He stopped and stared at me, the anger gradually softening, replaced by something that seemed closer to pain."I'll manage, Davina," he finally said, his tone serious and definitive. "But I'm not going to let you face this alone."I wanted to believe him, but doubt still lingered in my heart.My father could die in a few hours if I didn't get the m