Unusual Saviors

Chapter 5

"Come on," Ghost grumbled as he fetched his car keys from the small coffee table. He grabbed the jacket that he had given you the night before and tossed it in your direction.

Like a mantra, he tried to tell himself that it was a good thing that he could get rid of you now. He should be thankful that your husband paid his debt before he would feel even more sympathy for you. Immediately feeling disgusted for his sad attempt at still being a cold asshole.

He had told his client that he'd drop you off at the bus terminal in the nearest town. Usually, he threw his abductees out of the car right at the edge of the woods, forced to find their way home on their own. With bound hands and feet, if they had been annoying him a bit too much.

And now he acted like your personal Uber driver, even letting you sit in the passenger seat. Looking at you from time to time, the words "let me help you," threatening to leave him every time his eyes wandered over to you. Not saying them, and still, it seemed like you could read his thoughts.

"Stop looking at me like that," you laughed after noticing how he glanced over at you from time to time, the look in his eyes screaming pity. You added a fake annoyed groan for good measure before you turned to look at him. "I promise I'll try to be less clumsy. New Year's resolution or something like that."

Wanting to say "It looks worse than it is. He's nice sometimes, he really is. It's going to be better." But you didn't, because firstly, it would mean admitting what the both of you knew either way, and secondly, because you had never been that good of a liar.

Ghost just shook his head, eyes back on the road that was still framed by tall trees, turning up the radio. Better than the awkward silence that threatened to settle in between the two of you, and also better than speaking about things none of you wanted to speak about.

You hummed along to the song that was playing while you looked out of the window at the trees that rushed by.

"You like Radiohead?" Ghost asked with a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Yes," you smiled at him, unable not to laugh at the puzzled expression that reached his eyes. "That big of a surprise?"

"A bit," he admitted.

"My dad loved them, even took me to a concert for my 14th birthday. It was a bigger present for him than for me, but listening to them always makes me think of him. In a good way."

Ghost nodded, hands gripping the steering wheel just a bit tighter. "Johnny liked them too, liked any music, to be honest. Sang along to whatever was playing when we were driving somewhere. Annoyed the fuck outta me sometimes."

The scenery changed as he continued to drive, with fewer trees and more houses, the next town seemingly not that far away anymore.

"You miss him?"

"Like hell," he answered quietly.

"We're almost there," he gestured towards what looked like a bus terminal that was surprisingly crowded for a small town. "Boss told your husband to pick you up here in around," he looked at the clock, "half an hour."

He parked the van in a secluded alleyway, waiting for you to get out. Maybe talking about Soap got him all sappy or something because he suddenly couldn't bring himself to leave you there waiting alone. So he got out of the van a few seconds after you. Only for the duration of a cigarette, and then he could finally drive home again. It seemed like you had expected him to wait with you, already starting to walk towards an area with a few metal benches.

A man bumped into your shoulder as you crossed the street, cussing at you under his breath. Ghost watched the whole ordeal from a few feet behind, slamming his elbow harshly into the man's waist as he walked past him. Deciding that it was better to stay by your side for the next few minutes.

Just to make sure that nothing happened to you until you were officially free, it would only fall back on him if you got hurt even though your husband paid his debt. Didn't matter if it was because of Ghost or someone else. And that was the only reason he sat down on the bench right next to you. Holding his cigarette package out to you before you could even ask. His hand touched yours as he lit your cigarette, probably didn't want to risk getting his lighter stolen and you blamed the feeling in your stomach on the blood loss a few hours prior.

You just sat next to each other for the following twenty minutes. Ghost smoked through at least half a pack of cigarettes and you watched the people that rushed by. Wondering what they were up to, if they were on their way home from work, happy to see their families again. Feeling guilty as you realized that you weren't happy to go back home.

The announcement of the departure of one of the buses shook you out of your train of thought. 10 more minutes.

You both got up, awkwardly standing side by side as if none of you was quite sure what to do. Your hands were in the pockets of your jacket- his jacket, you remembered a moment later.

"I'd give you four stars on rate-your-kidnapper.com if I could," you chuckled, turning your head towards him with a grin.

"Only four?" He asked, and his smile almost, almost reached his eyes.

And in that second, everything inside him screamed to tell you to stay with him, or to ask you if you had anywhere else to go. To ask if he could bring you somewhere safe, because he had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last time that you'd end up in a shitty situation, and he wasn't going to be the one to snatch you up the next time. Not that it seemed as if you were safe at home- but that was none of his business, he reminded himself. He had his own issues, and he had never been one to stick his nose in other people's problems.

Mindlessly, he reached for the dog tags around his neck. MacTavish wouldn't let you go. Bloody hell, Soap would probably rip your husband to shreds and stay by your side until you had everything sorted out. But Ghost knew that he wasn't a good man like Soap had been, and Soap wasn't here to help him make the right decision.

So he was going to do what he always did. Leave.

You tried to keep a smile on your face as you got out of his jacket. A glance at the big clock above the bus station confirmed that it was almost the time he was supposed to set you free.

"Well, guess you're free to go," he mumbled, his hand resting heavily on your shoulder for a second. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

You nodded, swallowing the thick lump in your throat. Contemplating if this was the moment where you should ask him for help, asking him if he could bring you somewhere- well, no, because you had nowhere to go. And you had made a promise to your husband.

I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. Just that no one told you that it would be a lot of bad times and almost no good times. But a promise was a promise, so you shoved your thoughts aside. Besides, Ghost was already leaving, blending into the mass of people who rushed around the bus terminal.

Screeching tires and cussing caught your attention, a familiar car coming to a halt a few meters away from you. A man got out, ignoring the way his parking spot hindered passersby from crossing the street safely. He stomped towards you, wrapping his hand around your arm tightly. You bit down on your cheek in an attempt not to flinch because he pressed right on the bruises he had left on your arm as he dragged you toward the car.

At least he wasn't reeking of booze.

"Stupid slut," he snarled as you two were alone in the car, starting up the engine. "Only thing you're good at is causing me fucking problems." As if it wasn't his gambling addiction that caused you to get abducted.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly, your voice trailing off as brown eyes caught yours one last time before Ghost was out of your sight.