Ghostface Stu Macher Novels & Stories

Marcus, the quiet guy from accounting leaned against the door, arms crossed, with a bitter smirk twisting his lips. “McAllen,” he said. “You’ve been looking real happy lately. I see you enjoy your late night with the boss.” My stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, I could see the jealousy in his eyes. “ I saw you leaving the private elevator. Looking like a man whose ass has taken some cock. You’re not the first, you know. The Ghost destroys anyone who tries to get close. You’re just the latest toy.” “The Ghost?” I laughed it off, but my voice sounded shaky even to me. “Sounds like some movie legend bullshit.”

Stefan questioned me “Ghost, your father said Ghost....” I replied to him and sat on steel skeleton of Lada and started thoroughly cutting rooftop leather were GHOST was embedded... this was the only thing that we haven’t checked... I wasn’t hopeful to find anything here but still my intuition asked me to check this place and I did... In just a minute I managed cut one entire side of rooftop leather and JACKPOT... a disk in steel box fell right on my face... “Ooouhhh......” I winced, Zachary and Stefan were both witnessing my manic behavior, Stefan instantly picked up that silver colored disk and carefully observed it and said “it’s a.... hard disk...”

I stared at my phone, and the picture of Connor and I kissing in my car before we left to go nap at his house. Someone had taken the picture through one of the classroom windows by the looks of it. There was only a single caption over the photo. Guess who's the ultimate fuckboy? "What the hell is this, why would someone do that?" Connor shrugged towards me, a bewildered look on his face. "I know right, they took away the snapchat hotdog filter, and now this!?"

“You’re late.” My head popped up as I recognized the gravelly voice. Ghost was leaning against the side of the building, looking like a badass GQ model. He wore slim black cotton pants and a greyish-brown button-down shirt that looked tailored and expensive. The shirt was untucked underneath his motorcycle jacket in an attempt to look casual. Most of the girls walking by walked into one another or stumbled on the edge of the sidewalk. The fact that his eyes were steeled on me raised my spirits.

He glanced over his shoulder at Ghost bent over the desk. The rules were different with Ghost. Marco wondered at times if the guy had been designed, down to his average-Joe looks. It was easy to look at him and see a regular dude. But Ghost wasn't normal. He bled, he pissed, and he ate like a man, but something about him wasn't right. "You got me?" Ghost said. "Loud and clear. We'll be gone in an hour." Marco let himself out of the apartment, locked the door, and drew his first easy breath.