Black Dogs Motorcycle Club: Full Series Box Set (61 page)

“Get your shit,” said Cary
to his family, while still staring at Bridget. “We’re leaving. I’m pulling you
out of this fucking school.”

“No, Daddy,” said Toby as
he immediately burst into tears. Miranda shushed him desperately and herded him
out of the office and into the hallway.

Cary held her stare until
his family was in the hallway. “You don’t know who you’re fucking messing with,
you stupid cunt.”

Bridget couldn’t help it.
A dark smile came over her lips—one that didn’t reach up to her eyes. “That
makes two of us.”

He didn’t ask what she
meant. Cary turned and stalked out of the office with his bodyguard on his
heels.

The second his back was
turned, Bridget pulled her phone out of her pocket, and felt her stomach drop
when she saw no new messages from Ghost.

“What now?” asked
Henrietta, shifting nervously on her feet.

Bridget didn’t know. Ghost
was supposed to have confirmed his set-up by now. But warfare never did go how
it was supposed to.

“We go after them,” said
Bridget. “We can’t let him take the family home.” She stuffed her phone in her
pocket and raced out of the office after the Cary family, following the sounds
of Toby’s upset sobbing. Henrietta followed, scurrying on her wedge heels.

Fuck, fuck, fuck,
thought Bridget with each
pounding step of her boots.
God, if you’re really up there, give me some
fucking way to stop this asshole until Ghost gets here.
Even if she
physically engaged, the bodyguard would take the hits, and Cary would be able
to sneak away. It wasn’t like Henrietta or Muriel were going to jump in and
help her fight. She had to think of something fast, before Cary took Toby out
of her reach for good.

As she pushed hard through
the double doors, Bridget’s ears were filled with the sweet sounds of
salvation: the thunderous roar of fifty perfectly-tuned choppers soaring up the
country road and into the parking lot of the Academy.

She could see the Cary
family and their bodyguard stopped at the end of the white entrance walkway,
staring as an army of Black Dogs swarmed the empty parking lot. Bridget and
Henrietta came slowly up toward the lot and watched the beauty of the maneuvers
as the men swerved around in intimidating patterns, finally fully circling the
Cary family town car sitting coldly and askew across three parking spaces. One
by one, the bikes came to a halt next to each other, keys killed ignitions, and
looking on with angry, dark, scarred faces.

“Holy shit,” said Bridget
out loud to herself. Ghost had been right—the sight of all that gleaming black
and chrome, roaring loud, ridden by men as big and mean as she had ever seen in
all her life, it was
terrifying
, and Bridget wasn’t even on their bad
side.

“What the fuck is this…”
said Stephen Cary, head swiveling around to get a look at them. “Get the fuck
away from my car!” he yelled, but there was significantly less fire in his
voice now.

The quiet poured in as the
last of the bikes shut down. It was the one directly in front and closest to
the Cary family, the one leading the whole pack; it was the bike driven by
Ghost. He kicked out his bike stand and got off with a big, sunny smile,
tucking his sunglasses into his cut. When he met Bridget’s eyes, he winked at
her, and she smiled.

“Evening, Mr. Cary!” said
Ghost with a wave. He took a few sauntering steps forward with his brothers at
his back, menacing and silent. “Mrs. Cary, I presume. And T-Dog, always a
pleasure.” He nodded at the former, and waved and smiled at the latter. Then he
looked up at the injured bodyguard, his face a mask of rage and embarrassment.
“Oh, wow, almost didn’t recognize you without all that blood all over your
face.”

“Just what the fuck is
going—“ started Stephen Cary.

“Nope!” interrupted Ghost,
whipping a hand up. Initially, he told Bridget he wanted to show Cary his knife
collection, but Bridget made him promise none of the bikers would brandish
weapons in front of Toby—not unless it was absolutely necessary. “You shut the
fuck up, you little troll.”

Shocked, Cary fell silent.

Ghost looked softly at
Miranda. “Mrs. Cary, would you mind terribly covering Toby’s ears for a
moment?”

Miranda Cary trembled like
a leaf in the wind, but she did as Ghost asked, and placed two gentle, shaking
hands on the sides of her son’s head.

Ghost turned back to Cary
with a darkness in his eyes Bridget had never seen—not on him, not on anyone.
It was like Ghost had opened a black hole in his mind. “Now, listen closely,
because I fucking hate repeating myself. This is an intervention. We’ve
gathered all your dearest friends and family here because we’re sincerely
concerned about how you’re a wife-beating piece of shit that deserves to be
skinned alive and paraded through the town like a conquered warlord.”

Stephen Cary was
speechless. Fear swarmed in his eyes, all over the lines on his face. Behind
him, the bodyguard had gone pale.

Ghost came closer, and
straightened the lapels on Cary’s jacket. Cary flinched, and Ghost’s smile was
wicked as sin. “Oh, so you
do
understand. Excellent. This should go much
smoother.”

Cary swallowed. His voice
came out a stuttered monotone mess. “Wh-what the fuck do you want?” He couldn’t
keep his eyes on Ghost. His brain was too busy trying to process the enormous
amount of danger waiting just behind the already dangerous man in front of him.
Stephen Cary was not a man who was used to feeling fear, and it was suffocating
him.

Ghost looked into his eyes
and made sure he was listening. “Here’s what you’re going to do, you
ever-loving king of the jagweeds. You’re going to get in your swanky town car
with your ugly bodyguard, and go back to your
tacky
faux-Renaissance
mansion, and your hideous, greed-filled life. And you’re going to do it without
Miranda or Toby.”

Cary’s eyes widened.

“
And,
” said Ghost,
raising a finger, “You’re not ever going to look for them. Ever. They’re
leaving you tonight, and it’s the last time you will ever have any contact with
them for the rest of your miserable fucking life. We won’t fuck with you, and
you can go back to whatever it is you spend your time doing. But if you
try
to contact them…” He lowered his face until he was inches away from Cary’s. “If
you try to do a single fucking thing to retaliate against them, or anyone at
this school… if you do anything other than disappear into a cloud of stinking
regret…”

He turned around and
looked at the gathered men at his back. Every single one of them drilled death
into Stephen Cary and his bodyguard. Fists clenched; ugly smiles appeared;
taunts floated through the air, begging one of them to try and resist what was
happening.

Ghost bent down close to
his ear. His words came out a dangerous whisper: “We will end you.”

Ghost slowly leaned back
from Cary and watched the realization dawn over his face. He stared at Ghost,
silent, afraid.

“My beautiful Valkyrie,”
said Ghost to Bridget without looking. “I think we’re ready for the final
phase.”

“Yes, sir,” said Bridget
with a smile. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Muriel, who
came scurrying from around the back of the school on foot with her handsome,
clean-cut fiancée in tow. Both of them stopped in surprise when they saw the
scene—especially her fiancée, who almost tripped as he cut across the grass
because he couldn’t stop staring.

Together they came around
to Miranda and Toby, who still huddled in fright next to Stephen. Muriel gently
put her arms around Miranda, who in turn had her arms around Toby, and led her
carefully away from the group. At first, Miranda hesitated, but Muriel talked
softly to her.

“Keep your eyes on me,”
she said, bending down to look in Miranda’s face. “Don’t look at him. Let’s get
you somewhere safe.”

Miranda kept her head down
instead and immediately burst into sobs as she walked under Muriel’s arm away
from her husband. Muriel’s fiancé bent down at the knee and talked gently to
Toby for a moment, offering to pick him up. Toby accepted, and collapsed across
the man’s broad shoulder, hugging him tightly. Bridget’s heart broke in her
chest to see it. They whisked the family around the corner, to where Muriel’s
vehicle was waiting to take them home.

“You’re a champ, Toby!”
yelled Ghost after him. Then he turned back to Stephen and the bodyguard.
“Well, looks like all that’s left to do is for you two ugly jerks to get the
hell out of my sight. So step to it, before I decide that town car is just a
little too scratch-less for my tastes.”

Both men hesitated until
the bikers began to roll away from the car, allowing only the tiniest pathway
to access the vehicle, standing feet apart from angry, silent Black Dogs. Cary
jumped in the back seat and yelled at his bodyguard to drive, and they peeled
out of the parking lot.

Henrietta let out a cry of
joy and clapped her hands. She threw her arms around Bridget’s neck and hugged
her. “It worked!” she cried.

Bridget hugged her back
and felt warm relief, tears on her face. “I sure fucking hope so.”

“You are a wonderful
teacher, Bridget. A wonderful woman. You saved him.”

As Ghost came up to her
side, Bridget smiled at him. “Well, not exactly just me.”

“Hey, now,” said Ghost,
throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m just the trophy husband, I take no
credit.” He wrapped an arm around Bridget’s waist and pulled her into him for a
deep, loving kiss.

~ EPILOGUE ~

Bridget

Three Months Later

“Go farther!” yelled Ghost, and waved his hand.
“Farther!
Farther!”

Toby was laughing so hard,
he could barely yell back. “I can’t go any farther!” He kicked the wooden fence
to demonstrate.

Ghost held the football up
in his right hand and shook his head. “You better learn how to high-jump pretty
damn quick, kid, cause here comes the pain!” He tossed the ball and it made a
disappointing end-over-end tumble to the middle of the yard between them. Toby
doubled over in laughter.

“Hey, I’m strong, but I’ve
never actually played this game,” he said. He cupped his hands around his mouth
and yelled to Toby, “Did I do football right?”

“You’re supposed to throw
it
to me!
” said Toby as he jogged to retrieve the ball and run back to
Ghost.

“Well why the hell were
you all the way by the fence then, if you were supposed to catch it?” He put
his hands on his hips.

Toby laughed. “You told me
to!”

“I don’t think that’s what
happened
at all
,” said Ghost and ruffled his hair. “Why don’t you go see
if your mom needs help?”

He took the football from
Toby and watched him run off toward the adorable powder-blue prewar house of
Marcella Castillo, Tommy’s
abuela
. The place was buzzing, and Toby
dodged around a few of Tommy’s sisters setting up the barbeque spread on a
picnic table, and slid past Jase at the grill, turning burgers with razor
focus. Toby disappeared through the sliding back door.

“You suck at sports so
hard, dude!” Tommy’s cheery voice came floating over from the patio deck. They
were gathered to celebrate his arrival home, after long months of recovery in
the hospital. They already had him propped up like a king in his wheelchair
underneath a big sprawling deck umbrella, two beers and a plate of nachos laid
out on a table in front of him.

“Yeah, let’s see you run
one out!” said Ghost with a faux-mean nod. He pretended to toss the football
Tommy’s way, but Tommy didn’t flinch.

“I can’t wait till I
actually can,” said Tommy. “I can teach Toby a thing or two, unlike you.”

After spending a short
little layover at the home of one of Bridget’s teacher friends, Muriel, it had
ended up that the most ideal place for Miranda and Toby Cary to stay while they
transitioned into independence was at the home of the Castillos. With Tommy
still running well under full strength for months to come, Marcella would need
help. Two of Tommy’s sisters still lived with them, and they were hard-working
over-achievers who welcomed the opportunity to lighten Miranda’s burden, as
well as their own. Toby was thriving in a home full of loving, affectionate
women.

“You’ve got that right,”
agreed Ghost. “You’re gonna be a great role model for him. It was really sweet
of
abuela
to take them in.”

“Are you kidding? We’re
the lucky ones! My sisters will not stop pestering Miranda about clothes and
shoes and makeup tricks. It’s like having their own fashion model around. They
love her. And
abuela
says Toby is a very helpful little guy.”

Ghost smiled. “He’s a
special dude, that’s for sure.”

They were interrupted by
Jase’s announcement that the meat was ready. Like bees descending on a hive,
people began to gather from inside the house and around the yard. Henry and
Douglas stayed in their camping chairs at the edge of the patio, drinking beers
and smoking their huge cigars, knowing someone would bring them food. Around
the picnic table, Tommy’s sisters had already taken their seats, gorgeous visions
in bright colors with long dark Spanish hair.
Abuela
hovered around the
grill next to Jase, scolding him and slapping his hand away when he tried to
interfere with the spices she was sprinkling.

Out of the house came
Will, his arm finally out of the sling but still wrapped in a brace. With his
left, he held the hand of Eva, his beautiful little cupcake of a wife whose
tummy was very, very pregnant. Even though she was still a few months out,
either her frame was deceivingly small, or Will had given her the gift of an
obliviously large baby to birth. Still, she was radiant, and she kissed Ghost
on the cheek when he helped her to the picnic table.

Jase’s wife, Maggie, came
out behind them, carrying a giant bowl of potato salad to the table. When Ghost
tried to stick his hand in it, she kicked him in the shins. “Hey! Out,
motherfucker.”

“Ouch, fuck,” he said, and
meant it. She’d nailed him right in the nerve. “I forgot you and Jase do
self-defense training for foreplay.” Maggie laughed and flipped him the bird.

Miranda came out, holding
Toby by the shoulders in front of her. To Ghost, they looked like completely
different people. Miranda had gained some weight and color, and she didn’t seem
to ever stop smiling. Even Toby was getting a little bit of a belly on him, his
hair a bit lighter from extended time in the sun. He left his mother’s arms and
came charging up to Ghost, growling like a dinosaur.

Ghost laughed and bent
down to meet him, then picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. Toby
kicked and squealed as Ghost spun him around a couple of times, until Ghost was
too dizzy to keep going.

When he stopped, Bridget
was standing there grinning at him and holding two open beers. “Are you about
to throw up on me, honey?” she said with a wary face.

“If I did, would you still
love me?” said Ghost with a fake hiccup.

“No, definitely not.”

“
Ouch
,” he said.
“Did you hear that, T-Dog?”

“I heard it!” yelled Toby,
upside down.

Bridget laughed. “Trade
you the beer for the boy.”

“Sold!” said Ghost. He
shook Toby around a few times for good measure before he dropped him on his
feet. “Go fix me up a burger, would you, pal?”

“Yup!” he held up his hand
until Ghost did the same, then slapped a high five and ran off for the burger
line.

They watched him go with a
chuckle. Ghost took the beer in one hand and wrapped the other around Bridget’s
waist, pulling her close. She kissed him gently.

“You kinda saved that kid,
Supergirl,” he said. “He’s never been happier.”

“
We
saved him,” she
said. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Ghost kissed her deeply
with one hand on the side of her face. The party seemed to melt away around
them.

“What do you say we take a
trip this summer?” he said. “After school gets out. I haven’t had a good
old-fashioned road trip adventure in a while.”

Bridget’s eyes lit up.
“Really? That sounds amazing!”

“It might get dangerous,”
he said, grinding his hips into hers. “And
sexy.
”

“Oh,
might?
” she
said with a fake snarl. “I’ll only go if it’s for sure both of those things.”

Ghost grinned and bit her
lip. “That’s my girl.”