Black Dogs Motorcycle Club: Full Series Box Set (59 page)

The tribunal scribbled
some notes, but no one had any further questions for Lucero. He got up from the
chair and gave Ghost and Henry a shit-eating grin as he made his way back to
the table next to Shaun. Ghost saw even Henry was clenching his fists under the
table at that.

“We’ve heard from all our
witnesses. If there’s nothing else, we will adjourn to deliberate,” said Myron.

The room full of men was
quiet for only a few seconds. Then suddenly, a familiar voice called out across
the cavernous space.

“Wait!” It was Jase.
“Wait, I have something!”

Murmurs erupted as
everyone turned. Jase was coming down the auditorium stairs at stage right with
his smart phone in his hand and a look on his face Ghost recognized very well.
His heart tightened up as Jase passed by the table without stopping, but gave
him an exasperated smile as he did.

“You’ve already given your
testimony, Mr. Campbell,” said Myron, checking his notes.

“I know,” said Jase. “But
something new has come to my attention.”

“What the hell is this?”
asked Shaun with an open hand toward Jase.

He was ignored. Jase
flipped through his phone as he spoke to the tribunal, loud enough for the men
behind him to hear. “Lucero is lying, and I can prove it.”

Chatter broke out among
the crowd; Ghost heard Lucero erupt into protest.

“You have proof you
haven’t already turned over to this tribunal?” said Myron, his face twisting
into an upset sneer.

“No, you’ve seen it,” said
Jase. “But Lucero hasn’t. And until he testified, we probably wouldn’t have
noticed it.” Jase showed them something on his phone. As they gathered around
to look, he said loudly, “I took photos of the scene of the crash before the
cops showed up, for our records. And you can see,
very
clearly, that the
only skid marks on the road belong to a bike—Ghost’s bike, to be specific.”

“What the fuck does that
have to do with anything?” yelled Lucero with an angry hand gesture.

Jase turned with an amused
smile on his face that made Ghost instantly happy. “So, you just got up here
and swore that you felt the wheel jerk and remembered slamming hard on the
brakes of the van before you hit your head on the window. Where are the skid
marks then, genius?”

An electric charge ran
throughout the room, and Ghost’s eyes went wide. He leaned across the table and
saw the color drain from Lucero’s face.

“You didn’t try to stop
the van because
you weren’t awake to stop it
. You passed out
before
the van swerved,” said Jase. “You’re lying.”

The faces of the men on
the tribunal dropped, shocked. They passed Jase’s phone back and forth between
them until all of them had seen the proof he described. Relief washed over
Ghost, running up from his toes to the top of his head and back down again like
an army of fuzzy puppies unleashed into the first spring sunshine.

Myron had to use his gavel
to get order back into the room. Henry patted Ghost on the back firmly, and
when Ghost looked over, his president had a look of righteous pride in his
eyes. Lucero hung his head at his own table, and Shaun stared mindlessly at the
back wall as if he was trying to digest what was happening.

The tribunal rose to their
feet. “If there’s nothing else, we’re going to adjourn to deliberate,” said
Myron. “We will recall this session in fifteen minutes.” He banged the gavel
once and followed the men through a side door and out of the auditorium.

Jase came over to the
table with a giant grin, and Ghost jumped to his feet to give him a huge bear
hug. “Holy shit, dude, that was some epic action right there,” he said, patting
Jase hard on the back. “Thank you so much. You’re a genius.”

“I should have listened to
you from the start,” said Jase. “You see way more than we’ve ever given you
credit for, and from now on I’m going to make sure we utilize it.” He pulled
away from the hug. “And I’m never going to forget what you did for me here.”

“Ditto, brother,” said
Ghost. “And I don’t entirely blame you for not listening to me. I do talk all
the fucking time, and eighty percent of it is nonsense.”

Jase laughed and shook
Ghost by the shoulder. Everything felt right then like it had fallen back into
place.

When the tribunal
returned, no one was surprised by their ruling. The six of them stood behind
their chairs facing the men at the tables and announced that, given the
testimony and evidence presented, the Eagleton charter was at fault for the
collision that injured Tommy and Will. They would be financially responsible
for making sure both men got back to fighting strength, and for replacing
Tommy’s wrecked bike.

“In addition, Harvey
Lucero, for recklessly endangering both your club brothers and the general
public, and for conduct unbecoming a Black Dog for your dishonesty on the
matter, it is the ruling of this tribunal that you be placed on suspension from
duties for one full year.”

“
Yes!
” Ghost
couldn’t stop himself, pumping his fist. He flipped both birds at Lucero across
the room. “In your face, you big, dumb fuck!”

The look Myron gave him
was somehow several points more devastating than anything Henry had ever
expressed, and Ghost instantly shut up.

“Further, if you are
indeed in need of assistance with addiction, the club will ensure you get the
help and treatment you need to get back to full strength. Once your suspension
is served and your health reassessed, the Eagleton charter will have the option
to bring you back into the fold if you, and they, so desire.”

Lucero stared at nothing,
anger throbbing on his face. For a minute, Ghost almost felt bad for the guy.
Being addicted to anything was a horror show he never wanted to fully
understand. But then he remembered Tommy’s injuries, the way he looked all
broken and twisted on the side of the road, and his sympathy melted away.
I’m
sure someone else has plenty of time to feel bad for the motherfucker.

“The decision of the
tribunal is final. If there is nothing else, we can call this conflict closed,”
said Myron with raised eyebrows.

With his fate off the
table, Ghost’s other mission for Bridget shoved up to the top of the priority
list. This was probably a dramatic solution to his problem, but he figured why
the fuck not? He’d earned the chance for some performance art.

“Brothers, wait!” said
Ghost suddenly, throwing his hands in the air. He climbed up on his chair and
then on the table, using Henry’s big shoulder to steady himself. The men in the
auditorium looked at him curiously, some in amusement. Lucero slumped in his
seat and ignored him. “Wait, please, I have another thing to add to this
punishment… favor… dealy… thing.” He turned in circles and held his arms out.

“You don’t need to yell at
the whole room for that, Ghost,” said Henry with a shake of his head.

“I do, though,” said Ghost
to them all. “Because this favor is from all of you, not just the tribunal.”

He seemed to have
everyone’s attention, even the men of the tribunal, and so he continued. “Look,
I know we all gathered here for a shitty reason—but we should also stop and
look at how amazing it is to have so many of us gathered in a single place.
I’ve never seen a pack of Black Dogs this big.”

The observation seemed to
rev up the room with smiles and laughter.

“So, even though we’re all
kind of pissed and annoyed and tired that we had to come all the way out to the
corridor just to tell Lucero the truth of what he already knows deep in his
heart—that he sucks—” Chuckles scattered in the audience, and Ghost continued
before the heat could come down. “—there’s a way we can make this gathering
even more epic. Hell, we could even make it
productive
.”

“What’s your point, Mr.
McBride?” said Myron with his first hint of impatience.

Ghost smiled wickedly. “I
have a job offer for every last fucking one of you, if you’ll take it.”

~ EIGHTEEN ~

Bridget

It was after class when Bridget paced the conference
room that connected to the faculty lounge, nervously going over the coming
conversation in her head as she waited. Richly decorated and not often used,
she figured this was the least likely place anyone would walk in on the
conversation she was about to have, and most of the faculty that stayed after
school didn’t spend their time in the lounge when they did.

She checked her phone and
saw a message from Ghost. Even when they contained actual words, they were
always emoji heavy. He couldn’t seem to help himself, and God help her, Bridget
found it endearing as hell.

How’s it going, my
beautiful Valkyrie?

She wrote back that she
was still waiting to begin, and she would text him soon. He wrote back with a
series of hearts, gesturing hands, and obscene-looking fruit that made her roll
her eyes while laughing. The conference room door creaked open and Bridget
quickly shoved the phone in her pocket and turned toward the door.

Henrietta Abate, the
headmistress of the Academy, came in first, her lovely slate and floral print
suit still looking as fresh as it had that morning. Every day, her thick hair
was rolled in the same perfect curled upsweep, mostly dark with shocking
accents of natural gray that she had very smartly incorporated into her style,
instead of trying to alter. She had a surprised, almost worried look in her
naturally large brown eyes. She held the door open for Muriel, who came in with
her brand new Michael Kors bag draped over her tiny shoulder.

“Ladies,” said Bridget
with a grateful sigh. She had been worried, just a little bit inside, that they
wouldn’t come. The notes she had left each of them were Bridget’s last ditch
effort, and usually when plans got to last ditch, their odds of success weren’t
remarkable.

“Is this our new secret
cabal?” said Muriel with a little smirk. She tossed her bag in one of the big
rolling chairs and sat down in the one next to it.

“You could say that.
Henrietta, would you mind closing the door?”

The headmistress did as
asked. “Bridget, what’s going on? Your note was very upsetting.”

Bridget folded her arms
and did a quick check over their shoulders, toward the frosted glass window of
the door to the teacher’s lounge. She heard nothing, and saw no signs of
movement. “There is something very upsetting going on, and I need your help to
fix it. One of my students is being abused at home.”

They both gasped. “Who?”
asked Muriel.

“Toby Cary.”

“Oh
Madonna
,” said
Henrietta and put a palm to her heart. “Of all the families. You’re sure of
this?”

“I know, I know. And yes,
I’m sure. I got a call a few weeks ago from a number I didn’t recognize.
Whoever was on the line wouldn’t talk to me, but I know it was Toby. I could
hear someone beating a woman in the background. He’s been withdrawn and anxious
for a long time—Henrietta, this is not the first time you and I have discussed
his behavior in the last six months,” said Bridget with an outstretched hand.

Henrietta shook her head.
She looked sick. “No, it isn’t.”

“And this week, I had a
note left in my bag from Miranda Cary, Toby’s mom. It’s asking for help.”

Muriel frowned. “Why would
she ask you for help? Does she know you know?”

Bridget bit her lip. “I’ve
been looking into this on my own for a little bit. I… may have gone a little
far and confronted one of the Cary housekeepers in a less than classy way. And
if Toby overheard the description of me and my partner and told his mother it
was me who did it, Miranda might think she found a way out. Toby already tried
to call me, and I’ve tried talking to him about it with no success, but he
clearly knows I’m an ally—he just doesn’t know what to do about it. He may have
told his mom I could help.”

“If she thinks you’ll
believe her, it makes sense she would contact you,” said Henrietta.

“Exactly. And anyway, who
would leave this as a hoax? Who even knows?” She shook the note in her fist.
“No, I think Miranda Cary sees a light at the end of the tunnel and she’s
throwing herself at it the best she can. She may have even been the one to tell
Toby to call me—or someone—in the first place that night. We have to help her.”

“We should take the note
to the police,” said Muriel, shaking her head with that wide-eyed owl look she
got when she disapproved of something.

“No,” said Bridget
immediately. “The police won’t help. They’re useless when it comes to domestic
violence cases, and that’s with perps who
can’t
bribe them into
oblivion. Calling the police will just make things worse. We’ll lose access to
Toby and any chance to help him.”

“She’s right,” said
Henrietta. “Bringing in police intervention could escalate his father’s
violence. We have to find another way.”

“I think I have a way,”
said Bridget. “But I can’t do it without both of you on board.”

Muriel turned and looked
at Henrietta, and then back at Bridget. “What do you need us to do?”

“We’re going to have to
set a trap,” said Bridget. “We need to clear a path for Miranda and Toby to get
away from Stephen safely. That’s going to require a safe house or two,
transport and escort, and we may potentially need a pool of cash for them. I
don’t know how much access she could possibly have to his money. I’ve gathered a
couple grand myself.”

“I have some savings,”
said Henrietta immediately. “And I’ll call my sister at the Assault Recovery
Center to see if she has access to any emergency victim funds.”

“I can add to that. And we
can put them up,” said Muriel. “The new house is certainly big enough, and we’d
have everything they would need to be comfortable. Plus, it’s in a gated
community with full-time security.”

Bridget smiled. Relief
flooded her veins and she took a deep breath, grateful for the incredible women
in her life. “Ladies, thank you. This is perfect. If you can take care of those
things for certain, I can handle the rest of the logistical details.”

She bit her lip before she
continued—this was going to be the hardest part of the sell. That was why she planned
her special guest speaker, whose wit and charm she knew first hand could break
down even the highest walls.

Bridget pulled her phone
out of her pocket and sent a text to Ghost. Then she said, “I have a plan to
get them away from Stephen. It’s unorthodox.” She turned to Henrietta. “It’s
going to require you to lie, and possibly take some verbal abuse. When Cary
realizes what’s happening, he might not put up with it quietly.”

Muriel’s mouth opened.
“Are we in danger?”

If she were honest, Bridget
wasn’t sure. She knew damn well anything could happen in a situation like this.
She also knew a good leader did not pass on that kind of doubt to her troops.
“No,” she said. “Because we’re going to be more dangerous than Cary.”

Henrietta raised her eyebrows.
“We are?”

“Yes.” Before she could
continue, there was a soft knock at the door. The women all turned at the
sound.

“Come in,” said Bridget
loudly. The door swung open and Ghost walked in, smiling and handsome as ever
in his leather cut. Already Bridget could tell he was a lighter, happier man
now that the mess with Lucero had been decided in his favor. He had called to
tell her all about it after it happened, drunkenly shouting like a kid at
Christmas.

He bent his head and asked
for Henrietta’s hand, and kissed it when offered. “Pretend I said something
really beautiful in French right here,” he said to her. She let out huff of a
surprised laugh.

“Hi,” said Ghost to Muriel
in the chair. She was staring up at him like she had never seen a man before,
and Bridget wasn’t too proud to admit it excited her to watch. She offered her
hand to Ghost and he kissed it. “Muriel, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“O-Oh,” she stuttered.
“Okay, that’s nice.” Her smile was wide and sloppy, like a schoolgirl with a
crush.

Ghost came up to Bridget
and wrapped an arm around her waist. He pulled her in for a sweet, modest kiss
on the lips, and then pulled back and smiled at her. They shared a heavy gaze
and said nothing, until Ghost finally pulled away to stand at her side. It
wouldn’t be till later in the night that Bridget would realize she hadn’t
flinched at all when showing romantic emotion in front of her colleagues,
because that’s just what Ghost did to her.

“Ladies, this is Ghost
McBride,” said Bridget. “Ghost, this is Muriel Green, and Henrietta Abate.”

“Ladies,” said Ghost,
dipping dramatically. “It’s truly an honor to be helping you out.”

“He’s helping us?” said
Henrietta with a finger toward Ghost.

Before Bridget could jump
in to defend him, Ghost said, “Now, I know. I’m not your usual customer around
here, and I might be a little rougher than you’re used to. But the truth is
that you flawless, class-soaked heroes of education have a monster under your
bed, and that monster is counting on all of you around him being too nice and
delicate to kick him the fuck out.” He paused when he saw their faces. “Uh,
pardon me… to ask him to retire… politely… to his private island… never to
return again.”

Both of the women stayed
silent, watching him, digesting his words.

“I do bad things,”
admitted Ghost with a shrug. “Obviously, that’s the elephant in the room. We
all know that’s what the cut says.” He pulled on his leather vest. “But I also
do good things. I visit sick kids in the hospital, and I give money away all
the time, and I make sure our country’s veterans aren’t going without their rum
and porn. Ask Bridget, she knows all about it.”

“What?” said Henrietta.
Muriel giggled.

Bridget cleared her throat
with a suppressed grin and made a motion with her hand for Ghost to get a move
on.

“Point is, I don’t do bad
things to good people, and I help out good people when I can. I want very much
to help Toby, and Bridget and I have figured out a way we think we can do that,
as long as you’re both willing to work with a devilishly handsome, but morally
compromised, bad boy such as myself.”

Bridget stared at the
ceiling so she wouldn’t lose her composure laughing.
Nope, it’s never going
to go away. I’m going to want to both slap and kiss him simultaneously for the
rest of my life.

Henrietta and Muriel
exchanged glances, and then looked back at Ghost and Bridget curiously.

“I’m in,” said Henrietta.
“Moral compromises and all. The kids come first; all other morals fall second.”

Muriel made an impressed
face. “Well, when you put it that way, I don’t know why we’re even talking
about this at all. Let’s get to work.”

“Yes!” said Ghost,
throwing his fist in the air. “I’ve never worked with such a gorgeous crew
before. Ladies, bring it in, let’s have a group cheer. Shout
moral
compromises
on three.” He tried to gather the cheer circle, but the women
only looked at him in amused silence.

He coughed with a
self-conscious face and stood up straight. “Save the cheer for later? Cool,
let’s do that.”