The Midnight Hour Read online

  The Midnight Hour

  By Elise H. Ford

  Copyright Elise H. Ford 2020

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the express written permission of the author. This book is licensed for your enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  The story in this book is the property of the author, in all media both physical and digital. No one, except the owner of this property, may reproduce, copy or publish in any medium any individual story or part of this novel without expressed permission of the author of this work.

  Elise H. Ford’s written works

  The Lunafriya Chronicles- Mermaid Romance

  Sea Sacrifice- Prequel-

  coming soon.

  Sea Secret

  Sea Storm

  Sea Savior

  Fae Romance

  Wings of Silence

  Family-Friendly Fantasy

  Creats

  Ghostly Romance

  The Midnight Hour

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the memory of Vickie Christie-Breeze. Aunt Vickie was always giving me the best book recommendations. Her love of colors inspires me every day. Thanks for helping me develop my love of books. I will miss you always and forever.

  Chapter 1

  “Don’t you dare call me crazy!” I shout while I throw a heavy-duty drinking glass at his fucking head. Jason ducks his head at the right time and the glass shatters on the wall behind him. Large chunks fly everywhere. My eyes are wide and wild, while it feels like fire burns in my veins.

  “Then stop acting like it, Psycho.” Jason sneers at me. He shakes his head. “Fuck this, I’m out of here; Victoria. We’re done.” Jason slams the door on his way out.

  “Fucking fine!” I scream out as loudly as I can, hoping that he could hear me loud and clear. “I was going to break up with you anyway!”

  After six months of being together, I never felt the true love feeling that I’ve been longing for. I also never told him why I hate being called crazy, but growing up in an asylum will do that to a person. That’s another thing that I never told him. I actually have a lot of things I’ve never told him before but this is the big one... Not many people believe me, but... I can see ghosts.

  Not all of the time, but ghosts tend to find me when they need help. I’ve tried all of the medications to get the ghosts to go away, but nothing helped. My parents were scared of me, that’s why they shipped me off to the asylum when I was four. Frankly, I used to be scared of myself. They could not understand that I wasn’t seeing things. The ghosts that come to me are very real, and they need my help. Either by solving the reason for their death, or helping their loved ones get over the fact that they are gone from this world.

  Midnight... That’s when the ghosts come. It really sucked as a child, being woken up in the middle of the night because some creepy-ass ghost was in my bedroom, talking to me. No one else could ever see them either, so I was shipped off to a cold dark room in an insane asylum; with no family or friends... besides the ghosts.

  I’ve totally dropped all contact with my parents since aging out of the asylum. I haven’t talked to them in about seven years. I have no need for them anyway. I make my own money in my own way. I know they would never approve, but I really don’t give a shit. My main job is as a paranormal investigator. I help the ghosts that come to me at midnight. Now, that doesn’t offer me much money to live by so once or twice a week, I strip. That’s how I can afford my one-bedroom apartment and my daily living expenses.

  I blow out a loud sigh and start to pick up the big broken glass pieces that I can find. Next, I take out my vacuum and clean up the rest of the mess I made. Damn Jason... I kind of wish this glass would have actually hit him in the head. That would have personally felt great...Oh well. I shrug while I clean, happy that that relationship is over. I mean, the sex was great and all, but I never felt that spark. The spark that all the girly movies talk about. I want that in my life, I need it more than anything. Those kinds of movies were the only thing that got me through the daily grind back in my teenage years in the asylum.

  I check the clock hanging on my beige living room wall. Eleven-fifteen at night… forty-five minutes until I maybe get a new guest. It doesn’t happen every night, and it hasn’t for two weeks now. I’d rather it not happen tonight either.

  After I cleaned up all of the glass that I could find, I walked into my bathroom to clean myself up. If a ghost doesn’t show, I might go to work and make some money. The Blue Moon is the club where I dance. The owners don’t mind my come-and-go attitude towards work. They are just happy when I do decide to show up.

  The showerhead starts up, and I turn it on full heat, letting the room fill up with thick rolls of steam. I look into the mirror that is starting to fog up. Running my hand across it to clear some of the fog, I see my long brown and blonde high-lighted hair looking limp. My hazel eyes look red and have large bags underneath. My skin looks blotchy, and my makeup is smudged like mad. In other words, I look like a hot mess. Quickly, I rub a makeup cleanser cloth across my face and jump into the steamy shower. I wash off my body and all of the memories I have with Jason. Tears leak out of my eyes but I refuse to let the sobs out that want to wrack my body. Why does it seem that the universe is just always out to get me? Nothing in my life so far has gone right and according to plan… Especially relationships. It’s here and now that I swear to myself that I’m done with relationships until I find that one person. That one person that I am supposed to grow old with. My long hair takes time to wash and detangle and I shave the parts of me that need to be shaved. I stand under the showerhead and relish in the heat with my eyes closed.

  Once I’m out of the shower, I go into my big walk-in closet. The closet was my only requirement when apartment searching. Living in the asylum, I could only wear their hospital clothes. I would look through fashion magazines all day long and hope for clothes like the ones I saw. The first thing I did with my first bit of extra cash was buy some amazing clothes. Now, I have a closet full of anything I could ever want. Online shopping is the best!

  With only a towel wrapped around my chest, I search through my clothes. I find my black lace dress, then I sift through my underwear drawer trying to find a matching pair of panties and bra. A blue lace thong, with a matching blue lace bra pops out at me.

  A low whistle behind me scares me enough that I scream while I turn around to look at the source of the noise. There, sitting sprawled out on my bed is the ghost of a man. He’s tall, with sandy blonde hair that swipes to the side of his forehead. He’s staring at me with a lustful hunger in his green eyes. A smirk rests across his lips as he looks me over.

  “What did I do to deserve the sight of this beautiful creature?” The ghost man asks, his playful smirk not leaving his face.

  I roll my eyes and blow out a sigh while I step out of my closet and place my clothes on my bed. I’m used to dealing with men like him at the club. “You died… That’s what you did.” I say while dropping my towel. The ghost man drops his jaw… At my nudeness or the mention of his death, I do not know. He watches me while I get dressed. The thong slides up my legs and I hook my bra on, not embarrassed in the slightest. I’m used to people seeing my body.

  Ghost man finally closes his mouth and takes a large gulp of air. “I… I died?” He asks, stammering.

  I look at him with sympathetic eyes and soften my demeanor. I should really try to be nicer. “If you’re here with me, unfortunately, that means you died. I’m sorry.” I told him. I tilt my head to the side. “Do you remember your name?”

  He looks
at me, his green eyes not really taking the sight of me in, his mind elsewhere. “Dean.”

  I smile at him. It’s a good thing that he remembers his name, it will help me help him. “Hi, Dean, nice to meet you. I’m Victoria, but everyone calls me Tori.” I slide into the lace dress, my blue bra peeking through the lace slightly. Now that I’m fully dressed, I sit down on my bed with Dean. “You coming to me when you die means that you need help of some sort. Either I have to find out how or why you died, or help a loved one get over your death. Do you remember anything else about yourself?” I coaxed him, trying to find some answers.

  “Umm… The last thing I remember was…” Dean stares up at the ceiling for a minute or two, then flops down to a lying position on the bed. He smacks himself in the head with his palm as he groans. “Think, damn it!”

  I placed a hand on Dean’s thigh. As soon as I touch his body, butterflies swarm inside my belly, causing a sensation that I’ve never felt before. My hand tingles with pricks of electricity. I pick up my hand, stare at it confused for a second before placing it back down on Dean’s leg. The tingling, butterfly sensation starts back up again but I leave my hand there this time. I’ve also been able to touch ghosts… That’s why I never believed the doctors at the asylum. I knew what I’ve been seeing is real, ghosts are very fucking real, just only a handful of people can see, hear, and touch them. “Don’t worry about it Dean, the memories will come back. We just have to work to get them to come out.”

  Dean picks his head up and looks at my hand resting on his thigh. “If I’m a ghost, how are you touching me? Shouldn’t your hand go right through me or something?”

  I smile at him, “You will see that it’s only me who can see, hear, or touch you. I have a special gift.”

  He reaches for my hand and grabs it, rubbing his fingers over my skin. “That’s a pretty cool gift,” Dean says with a grin.

  I laugh, “Not when I was young, but I like it now.”

  Dean’s fingers travel up my arm, giving me goosebumps, the tingling sensation getting stronger by the second. His body slides closer to mine, his green eyes searching my face. “Do ghosts come to you often?”

  I shrug, “Sometimes… It’s not an everyday thing.” I get up from the bed. “I need to dry my hair before it stays like this,” I say while walking out of the room and towards my tiny bathroom. Dean follows me, looking around my apartment. I don’t have much for decorations. I’ll wait until I have my forever place for that nonsense.

  The blow-dryer is already plugged in and ready to go. I grab my brush, flip my head down, and turn on the blow-dryer. The heat blows into my face, but it feels good. I dry my long hair for a while, the thick strands staying still somewhat damp. I peek behind me, seeing that Dean is right there, staring at my ass this whole time. I smirk and feel myself get a little turned on. I love it when the guys stare at me. That’s probably why I like being a stripper.

  Once I’m all done with my hair, I flip back up seductively and give Dean a little wink. His smirk grows wider across his lips. I’m such a tease and I know it. I quickly do my makeup in the bathroom mirror. All the while Dean watches me, his back against my hallway wall, his one leg posted up against the wall as well. His green eyes are dark with lust, but he just stands there, watching me.

  “Let’s go take a walk around downtown. Maybe it will bring some memories back.” I say to Dean while heading out of the bathroom. Dean nods his head and follows me while I get my phone and keys, placing them inside my purse. He stays a foot behind me while we walk down the long hallway to get to the elevators in my apartment building. I make sure to shake my ass a little more than necessary, just because I know he’s looking.

  The elevator creaks up slowly. We enter and wait for the doors to close. I live on the seventh floor of the building and these old ass elevators are super slow. Down a couple of flights and then the doors open again, a group of four males around my age enters inside, giving me googly eyes. You can tell that they have been drinking, it is late and I can smell it coming off of them. The scent of beer and liquor flogs my nostrils and makes me cough slightly.

  “Hey there good-looking, where are you headed all on your lonesome at this late hour?” One of the drunk guys asks me. “Want to join us at the bar?” He’s swaying a little already. These guys don’t need to go to a bar… They need to just go to bed.

  I look over at him, giving him my most bitchiest face. My hazel eyes closed to damn near slits, “No, thanks.” I tell the drunk idiot.

  “Come on there, girly. You look like you could use some fun.” Another one chimes in.

  “Still no,” I tell them again. The elevators couldn’t land on the first floor fast enough.

  Another one of the guys grabs my arm. “We won’t take no for an answer. You’re coming with us.” A big smile rests upon his face and wrapped around it, a perv mustache. He looks like the kind of guy that you wouldn’t want to go to an unmarked van with.

  “Hey!” Dean yells, “Let the lady go!” He tries to push the man off of me but his hand goes straight through him. None of the men can hear or see Dean at all. I place my hand on Dean’s chest quickly and shake my head at him. Suddenly, I rip my arm out of the pervy man’s grasp and grab on to one of his fingers. I bend the finger back to almost the breaking point. The man screams out in pain and goes down to his knees. The other men gasp and yell out at me.

  Finally, the doors open in the elevator, and the inside of the lobby can be seen. A couple stands in front of the doors waiting to get inside. Their smiles disappear quickly when they notice the scene that awaits before them.

  “Never touch a lady without permission.” I seethe at the guy whose finger I’m about to break. Then, I quickly let go and sashay my ass out of the elevator without a second thought. The drunk guys are still in there, too drunk to understand what the hell just happened. Dean follows me quickly, laughing with a smile on his face.

  “Haha, That was great! You’re a badass warrior chick, huh?” Dean chuckles while we walk quickly before the cops get called on me.

  “You kind of have to be in my line of work.” I shrug, my hair flowing behind me in waves.

  “And what would that be?” Dean asks, his head tilted.

  “Paranormal investigator, and exotic dancer.” I proudly state with a smirk.

  “I knew it… You just look like you know how to move your body.” Dean grins widely.

  I roll my eyes and chuckle a little. “Anyways… Let’s head downtown, maybe it will jog something from your memory.”

  Dean nods his head, that goofy grin still plastered across his face. We walk to the shuttle station that will take us downtown. The bustling city of Haverhill, Michigan never sleeps, which is the main reason I moved here. We wait together for the shuttle to arrive, which it does every fifteen minutes like clockwork. Dean looks around at everything, trying to get some sort of memory back. I picked a seat near the back where there weren't many people. Dean sits next to me on the bench seats.

  “Anything look familiar?” I ask him softly so people don’t hear me and think I’m talking to myself.

  Dean shrugs, “Yeah… I mean, I know I rode these shuttles every day... But I can’t remember what I was just doing or how I died.”

  “Well, can you remember if you had any family members?” I ask again.

  Dean nods, “Finn, my brother.”

  I smile wildly at him, “Good, okay, that is a start! We’ll have to pay him a visit.”

  The rest of the short drive downtown is silent between us. I get off the shuttle with Dean behind me. We walk around the area together, not really having a destination in mind. I ignore the wolf whistles that I hear from some men that I walk by, but also secretly enjoy the attention. Dean stops in front of a bar with neon beer signs in every window. Dizzy Rick’s is a popular bar here downtown.

  “Man, do I wish I could have a beer right about now.” Dean blows out with a sigh.

  “I could have one for the both of us,” I smirk wild
ly.

  Dean chuckles and shakes his head, “You would do that, wouldn’t you? Make me all jealous.”

  I smiled as I walked to the door of the bar, “Yeah, I would.”

  The bar is dark inside, with bodies of people everywhere. It’s hard to move around but I finally made it inside and up to the bartender. Loud poppy-bullshit music is playing from the large speakers that hang from the ceiling, making it hard to even think straight. Once I get the bartender’s attention, I order two Stella Artois and settle myself into a little booth in the back. Dean finally decides to join me, finding me in the back with my two beers. I sit there with a smirk on my face while I enjoy the cold crispness of the beer sliding down my throat. Dean plops down next to me and tries to grab the other beer, but his hand passes right through it.

  “Ugh… Worth a shot.” Dean sighs.

  Chapter 2

  I finish my beer pretty quickly and grab the other one and start drinking it. This one tastes even better than the last. Men come up to my booth periodically, trying to flirt, asking me for my number or to dance, or take me home with them. None of them can see Dean sitting right next to me. I reject every one and send them away before they could even blink.

  “You’re harsh,” Dean comments with a smile while he watches guy after guy take their shot at me.

  I roll my eyes, “It just gets tiring. I know they can’t see it, but I’m working here.” I told him.

  “At least let them buy you a drink or something. Free drinks can’t hurt.” Dean replies.

  “And have the drink be roofied? No thanks.” I responded. “I can buy my own drinks.”

  “I do like an independent woman.” Dean smiles back cheekily.

  “Well, this independent woman is getting herself more drinks. I’ll be right back, hold the seat for us.” I smirk widely.