“Just come right in, take a fucking seat,” he mutters, deadpan, before taking a slow sip. Ah, there’s still a spark.
“I’m going nomad,” I say it straight. I thought about this, and it wasn’t an easy decision. But what I’m about to do will take a lot of time away from the club. I won’t be able to deal with the day to day shit.
His head jerks up. His glass slams onto the desk, whiskey sloshing up the sides, droplets spilling on the wood.
“No.”
“I’m serious.” My tone doesn’t waver. “Domino can take over VP duties. You can put Mindfuck up for Sergeant. Call for a vote. You know the drill.”
He leans back in his chair, and stares at me like I just pissed on the club patch. “Well, fuck me. You already drew up the plans. How considerate.”
He leans forward again, voice as piercing and rough as barbed wire. “Still not happening.”
“I looked into it and I’ll need to be gone for long stretches of time, Bones. Longer than we initially thought. I’m leaving whether you sign off or not,” I tell him. Calm. Final.
He breathes deep and pinches the bridge of his nose like I’m some disobedient kid testing his last nerve.
“Ghost, go hunt. Go kill. Go scream at the fucking moon for all I care. But you’re not going nomad. You got shit to settle? Fine. Settle it. Go kill a fucker and then get your ass back here. And then go again.” His tone drops, serious now. “And when you need backup, you just ask. We’ll handle it.”
My eyes drift to the wall behind him. There’s a black and white photo of a custom Harley hung on it. It was his favorite bike — until Temperance destroyed it.
“Fine,” I grit out after a few seconds, admitting defeat. I don’t have it in me to go all out against his stubbornness right now.
I press two fingers to my forehead. The pressure’s building inside my skull. Sleep’s been nothing but a wish lately.
“I’m leaving in a few days,” I say. “Gotta line some things up first.”
I glance at him. There’s something heavy and hollow behind his eyes.
“How’ve you been holding up?” I ask, even though I already know.
He shrugs like it means nothing. “Fucking fantastic.”
I narrow my eyes. He folds.
“Not even close,” he mutters, then he drops his head back and stares at the ceiling. “But what the fuck can I do about it?”
“Let’s get drunk tonight,” I say on an impulse.
That gets a reaction. His eyebrows lift like I just gave him the first good idea he’s heard all week.
“I’ll call the other fuckers.”
The next morning hits like a freight train. My body’s a patchwork of bruises, courtesy of Pops and his fists. Even breathing feels like a goddamn battle. And my head’s pounding like a bitch. Fucking hangover. Good thing I rarely drink the real stuff anymore, but fuck if I didn’t need it this time.
I stare down at the phone in my hand, grip tightening. I hate this. Hate handing off what should be my responsibility. I should be the one keeping her safe. Watching her back. But I’ll be off the grid soon. Days, maybe weeks. And I can’t risk leaving Adora unguarded.
Not when there’s a fucking snake cult looking for Ria.
They seem like amateurs so far — but amateurs still get people killed. I could’ve asked Bones to assign one of the brothers, but Adora doesn’t need more Vultures breathing downher neck. The ones around Ria are already too many. She needs quiet protection, and she needs someone to watch out for her, specifically.
And this guy? She won’t even know he’s there. He’s better than anyone I know at this. And he’ll keep her safe. That’s all I care about.
I tap the screen. He answers after the first ring. A grunt, low and clipped.
“Myth,” I say, voice steady. “I’ve got a job for you.”
“Listening,” he replies.
