Page 223 of Devil’s Disciples

“If I have to,” he said.

“But you know how it works?”

He laughed a genuine laugh. “Yeah. I’m not a complete idiot.”

After getting his number, I texted him a copy of the picture. Proof of our successes in accomplishing number fifty-six on my to-do list. I drew a line through two tasks we’d completed and tossed the pad into my purse.

There were four to go, three of which I could tackle with little effort. I doubted the man strapping on his helmet could help me with the fourth, which was number two on my list.

He secured the latch of his saddlebag. Now wearing nothing more than a tee shirt, jeans, and boots, his muscles bulged as he was straddled the motorcycle seat.

Number two.

An unconscious sigh escaped me.

It never hurt to dream.

86

Ghost

I was slumped against the arm of the sofa in the MC’s clubhouse. Lost somewhere between my childhood and my funeral, I was mentally vacant as the men discussed the club’s fall cross-country trip.

“Brother Ghost,” I heard someone say.

It sounded like a distant whisper. Not something I needed to respond to. I wondered for a moment if it was imagined or real.

“Brother Ghost!” Baker howled.

I stumbled through my mind’s fog and blinked until my vision was clear. Baker’s head was cocked to the side and he was looking at me with wide, waiting eyes.

“What?” I asked.

“What’s your vote?” he asked.

“On what?”

He glanced at the rest of the men and then shifted his eyes to meet mine. “Are you okay, Brother?”

“I think I faded off for a minute,” I said.

“Hard day at the gym?” he asked.

I shrugged one shoulder. “Didn’t go.”

“That’s a first.” He straightened his posture, stroking his beard as he sat up in his seat. “Connecticut or Rhode Island?”

“Connecticut,” I said, not really giving half a fuck what he was talking about or where we’d be going.

I knew the discussion was about our fall motorcycle trip, or at least it was when I slipped into a semiconscious slumber. Hell, I didn’t know if I’d even be around when fall arrived. If I was, I doubted I’d be in any shape to ride.

“Great,” he said sarcastically. “Now we’ve got a three to three tie.”

“Rhode Island,” I said, my tone indifferent.

“Seriously?” Cash whined. “Rhode fucking Island?”

“I’m guessing you were team Connecticut?” I grinned and clapped my hands. “Decision’s made. We’re going to Rhode Island.”