Novel & Cerita Ghostface Stu Macher

My jaw hits the stone floorboards the very second my eyes see handfuls of vintage muscle machines parked in every single color—some with bright tracking stripes, and others completely solid. I step out on my bare feet, running my palm across the slick hood of a black Chevelle SS machine. "A 454 core?" He gives a firm nod. "My wolf is impressed." I walk around to the back of the heavy metal bumper, and all the pack emblems are completely shiny, without a single smudge of dust on them. "Four hundred fifty horsepower. Why didn't your twin brother choose to steal this beast tonight?" He lets out a low chuckle. "Ryker chose correctly for your drive."

Our ghost. “The fake customs broker,” I say. “He’s going to hand the Vescari a piece of the maze I drew and hope to watch us run into the walls.” “Good,” Bruce says, and the word has iron in it. “We let him hand it to them. Then we watch who comes to the door labeled S. Bell & Sons.” I close the laptop. The screen leaves a rectangle of darkness on the table. Bruce stands and the chair goes back without a scrape.

What could he have found that would freak me out? Was it about my father? No, that’s not possible. Besides, we don’t even have the same last name. Even if my suspicions are correct and Dad is into some shady stuff, Dean couldn’t have made the connection. Let me guess, it’s something about Scarface, right? I’ll have to check it later. “Here we are,” Zeke murmurs. “Let’s get serious.” “Yeah. We have to get into character.” I shake out my arms and hands, rolling my head from side to side. “I hate you. You’re the worst. I want to curb stomp you.”

He turned his head toward me and just stared without saying anything, then he nodded. "I want to challenge you." He raised one of his hands and motioned to ask me why. "Wait, are you mute?" I asked. He turned away his face, indicating that he wasn't interested in answering me. "Fine, whatever. I'm gonna beat you tonight." And meet Turqo. Mutiny gave me a thumbs up, and it almost felt like he was mocking me. It fueled my anger. Huffing, I put on my helmet and got ready for the race.

Ghost pulls out a couple of pieces of paper and throws them down on the table, from brother to brother they make their way up to Austin, Max and me. I look up at Ghost with a humbled look. I was the one that brought Ghost in and was proud as hell when he was patched in less than a year later. I had found him at a bar, some college frat boy was drunk and wanting to pick a fight. Ghost is six four and three hundred pounds of muscle. Kid was out in less than a minute. Ghost has some demons, that much is evident when you see the names of the men he has killed with his bare hands tattooed on his back. "Shane?" Austin asks as I take in the two pictures.

Or who was the sexy god again? "Sit," the first guy I saw offered. He has an easy smile playing on his lips. He was friendly. How did he do it? Fine, sexy, probably smart, and friendly? The other big guy kept his eyes on me like I was prey. The chills I felt in my spine... I guess he was Mr.SA then, he looked mean and angry at the world. Who hurt you? "Please introduce yourself," the friendly god smiled. "Oh, right. Hi, Good morning, uh, My name is Mek Machu, and I'm here for the secretary position," that was poor, but who cares?

It wasn’t like he was going to be stepping into any big role right away like me. His old man goes by “Ghost” and I hope he’ll be like him. Ghost is kind of Grouch’s right hand. While I’m the enforcer, the one with the most flies, Ghost is usually the one who gets the guys that come into the basement. You’ll never see him coming until he’s putting zip ties on your wrists and a bag over your head. He’s a huge dude but he’s light footed and sneaky. Professional stalker is the term I use.

I scream. Once that woman left I called my best hacker, tracker, and best friend Leo, also known as ghost around the family. He came in sensing my bad mood he got us both two glasses of scotch. Leo is only twenty-two but he's old for his age, life made him mature early. He joined the family a few years after me and even with the age gap between us, we became friends. He waited till I'm calm before asking me what's wrong.

The Ghost in the Machine In Brooklyn, the clock struck midnight. Ethan stood in his basement office, the "strong frame" of his body leaning over the primary console of the Ghost Network. He wasn't wearing a suit, and he wasn't wearing rags. He was wearing the confidence of a man who had successfully "dematerialized" his own life.

Toby followed moments later, burying himself deep and growling as he filled Micah’s ass. There's no way, right? There's no way Toby is Ghostface guy.