Page 40 of Ghost
“Bunny?”
Oh right!
“I need some fresh air! I’m here to demand release,” I state.
“Umm.. you're not in prison here, Tiz. You can go outside,” Omen states with a duh look. Stomping my heels, I try again to get my point across.
“I don't just want yard time.”
“Again, not in prison,” Omen clarifies before I continue, ignoring him.
“I’ve been stuck in this building, within these walls, for months now. I can't handle it anymore.” Devon starts to open his mouth,but I hold my hand up to stop him before he can argue. “I’m not asking for a parade in my honor… yet. I’m asking for an hour, two tops, and one shopping trip, and I’ll be good for a little bit.”
I hold my breath as he looks at me with a hard stare but soft eyes. I know he wants to make me happy. He wants to say yes more than anything in the world. If he had his way, he’d never tell me no, but I also know he is scared to death of something happening to me. He’s told me his biggest fear is losing me just as much as mine is losing him. Still, I can't keep living like this. My big personality and even bigger hair are growing out of this place, and I need to stretch out a bit.
“One store,” Devon finally states, and I can't help the squeal that leaves my mouth.
“Yes! I’ve been dying to go to this craft store right outside town. I want to get new tablecloths for the tabletops in the bar.” I start making a list of everything I want to get while we’re gone.
“Prez….” Caesar starts, but Devon holds up his hand.
“Tizzy’s right. She’s been locked away here for far too long. Omen, you’ll stay back here and look after all the guys. Caesar, I want you riding with me. You’ll stay outside the store while I escort Tizzy in. Keep your eyes peeled.”
“Do you really think this is wise, Prez?” Omen asks, raising a brow at Devon. They look almost worried, which makes me wonder if I’m being a bit hasty. This place isn't so bad, really. I could wait… no! I want to breathe and see the outside. It’s my life that's in danger, and, to be honest, I’m ready to flush this stinky turd out and get it all over with.
An hour later, I’m in Devon's truck, and Caesar is on his bike, tailing us. I’m bouncing in my seat as we pull off the dirt roadthat snakes for miles through the woods from the back garage, and onto the main highway.
“Don't pout, Bunny. You got your way. You got out of the compound, and we’re going shopping.” Devon chuckles, reaching over the middle console and placing his hand on my thigh.
“Yeah, but I thought we were going to get to ride your bike,” I say dejectedly. I would have loved the air and sunshine surrounding me in peaceful bliss.
“You would have frozen your hair clean off in this weather,” he chuckles.
He might be right about that, actually. Still, he doesn't need to know that. Moments later, though, that's all forgotten because I see the big sewing machine with blinking lights that signals the craft store up ahead.
Yes, yes yes! It's about to happen! I’m going to get so much fabric the clubhouse will be swimming in it.
“Which color do you think we should get?” I ask, opening the door to the truck and jumping down before Devon even has a chance to get out. I know he’s going to fuss about it, but I'm too excited, and he was taking too long.
“Bunny, at least let me get the truck shut off first.” He chuckles before pulling the key from the ignition and hopping out of the truck.
“EEK!” I rush to the doors of the store as I hear Devon behind me.
“Eyes peeled for anything. Any sign of trouble, signal me immediately,” he tells Cesar.
“Of course, Praz.”
“Wait up, Bunny, let me get the door… never mind.” I hear from behind me as I rush through the front doors of the store.
For the next half hour, I look at every single fabric design this store sells, rushing from one end to the other. Devon tries to keep up with me at first, but after a bit, he settles for standing in the front of the section and watching me go back and forth. I’m in the process of pulling out a bright yellow and pink fabric buried at the bottom of a shelf, on my hands and knees, when I hear a woman's voice from the aisle over.
“I need him to see me. If he sees me, I know he’ll remember me. You're so close now. Just need to get him close. How do I do that? Think! Stupid, stupid, stupid.” It sounds like she’s hitting herself on the forehead, and I feel bad for her. I’m just about to ask if she needs help when I hear her speak again.
“Oh, hello there. Um, I’m so sorry, but can I get your help for just a minute? I need that roll right there, on the very top shelf.”
I shrug, thinking she found a worker or something, and return to my task. That is until I hear another familiar voice.
“Yeah, sure,” Devon says, causing my ears to perk. Maybe once he’s done helping her, I can get him on his hands and knees over here for this pink and yell…