One had touched her ankle once, leaving a scratch that burned for a month. With a single touch, if the man had just died, they’d claim not only his soul but try to climb into his body as if they craved life.
Her daddy kept pulling her away. Ryley glanced back at the ghost, and the descending shadows slithering closer; her heart clenched tight. “Daddy. I need to tell that man he’s dead.”
Her dad stopped and glanced over his shoulder, leading her back to the man that smelled like pee.
“You need to go into the light,” she whispered as fear clogged her veins while the creepy crawlies neared. She fought the need to cover her eyes and hide. Her fingers shook as she reached for the dead man’s arm. She laid her finger on the cold skin. “I’m sorry, but you need to go.”
Confusion clouded his face when the white light around him brightened, flashing and blinding her before he disappeared by being sucked into the light. She hated forcing spirits into the light. It left her heart feeling empty. Her legs wobbled as a deeper chill settled in her spine.
The crawling shadows stilled, watching her before they vanished into the crumbling brick on the second floor. She swallowed around the lump in her throat.
Her dad reached into the dead man’s pockets and pulled something free.
“That’s stealing.”
Her father pegged her with a glare as he shoved his hands into the man’s jacket pockets and pulled out a pocket watch. He clicked it open, and an evil grin formed on her father’s lips as he stood. “Well, he won’t need this where he’s going, and it’s not stealing if he’s dead. You mind your business, or I’ll slap those thoughts out of your head.”
“Sorry, Daddy,” she said, trying to still her quivering lips. He would make good on that promise. He had before.
Her father grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the big metal door at the end of the alley, and yanked the door open.
Music drifted out into the quiet alley as he pulled her inside. Smoke filled the room and drifted in the flashing lights. Women were on the stage, partly naked and twirling around a pole while men watched from chairs.
“Not a word.” Her father whispered in her ear as he guided her to the bar. He plopped her up on a stool and slipped money to the bartender. “Watch her, will ya.”
The man took the money, but when her father walked off, so did the man behind the counter.
Ryley rubbed her burning eyes and blinked through the smoke until she spotted someone she knew. Her cheeks heated as their eyes met. Her momma’s priest was sitting in a chair with a woman sitting on top of his lap.
“She’s expelling his demons,” a woman explained, appearing next to Ryley at the bar. Her big red curly hair hung down her back.
“Why aren’t those women wearing clothes?” Ryley asked, turning a curious gaze back toward the stage.
“Clothes get in the way of their tips and tips feed their babies,” the woman answered.
“That’s why my daddy brings me here. He says it’s so he can buy us food,” Ryley said.
“You can’t believe everything you hear, Sugar. Some men are users. You’d be wise to remember that when you grow up. It will save you some heartache, and even then, some men are just pure evil.” The woman turned her gaze toward the door where Ryley’s daddy had disappeared. “Like the men back there.”
“Why aren’t you dancing? Don’t you have babies to feed?” Ryley asked.
The woman tossed her head back and laughed. “No, Darlin, my son is already grown up, and he’s the devil’s spawn.”
“Where are your friends now?” Ryley asked.
“Most are dead and gone,” the woman said.
“My name’s Ryley. I’ll be your friend.” Ryley smiled at the woman.
“My name is Catherine, but you can call me Stretch.”
“Is that because your tall?” Ryley asked.
Stretch smiled, and her face softened. “Something like that.” She gestured toward the door across the room. “Your daddy’s coming for you, and it looks like my son, Eli, probably hurt him. Sorry about that, doll, but he’s an evil bastard.”
Ryley hopped off the stool. “Thank you for keeping me company.”
“Hey, Ryley!” Stretch called out.
Ryley turned, “Yeah?”
“Next time, don’t let him take you to places like this and let you talk to people like me.”
“Why?” Ryley asked.
Stretch shrugged. “There’s nothing saintly about me, baby, and I don’t have a filter.”
“Daddy says neither do I.”
Her father had a towel wrapped around one of his hands. Dark red was soaking through the cloth. Sweat was covering his face. “Did you hurt yourself, Daddy?”
“What did I tell you about asking questions?” he growled, and his hold on her dropped seconds before his open palm smacked her face hard enough for her head to turn.
The taste of blood seeped in her mouth as tears formed in her eyes. The women on the dance floor had slowed and were staring in her direction. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
He retook her hand and yanked her into the backroom. The door behind her clicked shut, sending her heart rate into overdrive. Her father pulled her farther into the room.
Duct tape covered a man’s mouth tied to a chair in the middle of the room. Someone had spread out a large square plastic sheet over the concrete floor. Another man was standing over him. His black hair was slicked back. His unbuttoned flowered shirt gave a glimpse of the blood-stained white shirt he wore beneath.
Chapter 2
“For the last time, where are my diamonds?” the man standing over him asked.
Cuts and bruises covered the tied man’s face; one eye was swollen shut. His head lolled to the side. When he didn’t answer, the knuckles came hard and fast on the man’s skull, sending his chair careening to the floor with him in it. The man landed with a
