1
Ghost
As always, the clubhouse is maddening, filled to the brim with my brothers who are all enjoying themselves in the best way possible.
The music is loud, thumping hard from the new stereo system Jinx put together.
Somewhere, the sound of a glass shattering against the floor mixes with the giggles of a woman thrown over Ripper’s lap. While they’re having a good time, Raven doesn’t bother hiding her annoyance as she roughly sets down a new glass, pouring it full before the Vice President can bother her by asking for another.
Warden growls at Hammer as the other man sinks another solid into the corner of the table.
While prospects spend their time with the women who are willing to give them attention, I bat off any drifters that bother coming toward my corner of the room. Thankfully, not many try.Maybe those who pity at best, who think I’m lonely. Most know that’s not the case.
While my laptop is open, the outer world barely exists. I’m satisfied just as I am while I’m working. Underneath Judge’s care, I feel like I’m always on the clock. Always looking for any hints of trouble coming our way.
Right now, what I’m doing has nothing to do with the President, not entirely. This is my own little side hustle I’ve been keeping to myself for months now.
With another loud laugh coming from the side, I reach over and turn the volume of my phone up, allowing the voice in my ear to grow loud enough to block out half of my surroundings.
Reminding myself to blink, I stare hard at the different camera angles spread throughout a home far more luxurious than one I’ve ever come to know in my lifetime.
Chewing on my thumbnail, my knee bounces. I replay the same phone call I captured last night over and over, trying to catch any missed details amid the anger I felt the first time I listened to it.
Even though hours have passed, my teeth are still grinding together. However, I’m not the one who is most upset.
The person I’m watching in the camera feeds has every reason to hate the man who raised her, who’d make such a greedy decision without even allowing a discussion.
At the sound of the front doors bursting open, carrying along the scent of fresh air and pine, the spell is broken, and my eyes lift.
“About time. Take the back roads to get here?” Trying to contain my annoyance, I meet Diesel’s exhausted expression and pause the recording in my ear. If I have to guess, he came here straight after his appointments atCrossroads Ink.His old lady might’ve kept him a little longer.
“Got a little distracted, that’s all.” Brushing off his poorly timed manner, he settles across from me and digs around in his pocket. Instead of pulling out his regular crushed pack of cigarettes, it’s a smashed pack of gum.
He doesn’t look pleased while shoving a piece into his mouth, but I’ll take the smell of spearmint over the smell he usually carries around with him.
“So,” he says, sitting back and taking in my work zone. “What was so important that you needed me to rush here?”
“I need a favor.” Returning my attention to my laptop, my eyes search for movement. It takes all but two seconds to find who I’m looking for. A lump beneath pink silk clutching at the blanket like it’s all she has to hide away from the world. “I need you to kidnap someone for me.”
Diesel’s jaw stops midchew. His brows furrow deep, and the scowl he wears on his face might fill fear in others, but I’ve seen enough in my days of helping out the Steelwood MC that a mere frown isn’t enough to deter me.
There’s a demanding desperation that is clawing at my lungs to get her out of there. It’s a feeling worse than I’ve ever come to know.
How much do I need to tell him? If I want a quick turnaround, I need to be honest here. Doesn’t hurt that out of all these meatheads surrounding me, the one sitting in front of me found a way to make his heart beat again. I can use his experience to my advantage.
“I’ve come across an individual who is in a tight spot and can’t exactly leave her prison.” Pursing my lips together, I watch the lump curl into a fetal position. “Her warden plans on moving her. Need to intervene tonight.”
“Ghost.” He shakes his head and lifts his inked-covered fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Who is she?”
Tapping my thumb against the table, I tear my eyes away. “Remember that guy Judge needed me to blackmail before he could put away Stacks for laundering? Yeah, well, I found more than I was expecting. He’s got a kid.”
Kid’s not the right word. A twenty-two-year-old daughter he keeps locked down because the people he puts away might want to go after his weakness. That, and for another reason. She’s got potential, a greater purpose for him, the greedy bastard.
After this morning’s call, I can’t help but believe he’s simply kept her hidden from the world until an opportunity came around to his advantage, or better yet, saved his ass from the wrath of another club.
“Just get her here, that’s all I’m asking. Do that, and I’ll take care of the rest.” Hoping that’ll win him over, his scowl doesn’t lift.
“You know Judge doesn’t like trouble. If he catches wind that we’re risking bringing bad attention to the club, that’ll be it for us.” Diesel shakes his head, his words sounding final. “I can’t help with this one. Surely you can find someone else willing to take the risk. Hell, with the skills you have—”
