Vindication: A Motorcycle Club Romance (15 page)

She couldn’t take her eyes off the
guard without risking her safety, not until Ghost came stalking up to stand
between her and the enemy, shoulders square. She had never seen someone who
looked both utterly relaxed and ready for a fight.

Bridget pushed up against his back.
“Nice timing.”

“I got caught up at the samples
counter.”

“I can handle this,” she said, only half-believing
it. It was her mess, regardless, and she intended to clean it up.

“Well, baby, you know I’m fond of you,
and the way you charge into danger gets me hard as a rock, but you’ve already
kind of made things worse here. And making things worse is
my
job. So
why don’t you step back and let me have some fun now?” He turned and gave her a
wink.

Bridget obliged. She stepped back
from Ghost as the security guard found his footing and laid eyes on his newest
annoying enemy.

“This is way closer to a fair fight,
anyhow,” said Ghost, rolling his shoulders.

“Stay back, punk!” the security guard
leveled a meaty finger at him. “This isn’t your concern!”

“Oh, come now, I think it’s
everyone’s concern when some meathead in a monkey suit starts menacing women at
the local hipster super mart. American values haven’t declined that much, have
they?”

The men were sizing each other up,
and cars had stopped, unable to pass by them safely. Shoppers watched from a
distance, hiding behind parked vehicles and shopping carts. Some were already
on cell phones and taking pictures.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re
talking about,” said the guard.

“Now, I get the mercenary impulse, I
really do. We all have to do bad jobs for money—not
this
bad, I mean,
you’re kind of a real dick for it. But you need to get back in your fancy car
and run home to your boss,” said Ghost. “Before I decide I really want to have
some fun.”

“Yeah?” said the guard. He faked a
punch and instead threw a low, hard kick at Ghost’s thigh. Ghost fell against
the trunk of the town car with an angry growl.

“Oh, now I’m not going to even feel
bad about this, you fucking jagweed,” said Ghost.

In one fluid motion, he pulled out
one of the many knives he carried on his person and swiped it toward the guard.
Bridget was actually impressed by the beauty of the maneuver. The razor-sharp
knife cut right through the guard’s unbuttoned suit jacket. Ghost stabbed the
handle of the knife hard into the thin steel of the town car trunk. The blade
stuck and the handle vibrated back and forth.

Now the security guard couldn’t dodge
as Ghost reared back and threw a right hook straight into his jaw. He
tried
to dodge, but the knife stuck in his jacket kept him static, and he took the
punch without so much as a forearm raised to block it. The guard growled and
shook the punch off, and threw his huge right fist into Ghost’s side. The sound
of the connection made Bridget groan and clutch at her own stomach.

Ghost doubled over for just a split
second before he made a roaring noise and started pummeling the guard with
punches until the man was on his knees, a huge gash ripping through his jacket
as he fell. He wobbled there on his knees as his face puffed and bled.

Suddenly Bridget was aware of their
audience, and the sound of distant sirens racing closer. “Ghost!” She yelled.
“Time to go!”

It took both hands for Ghost to yank
his knife out of the trunk of the town car, but he did it after only two pulls.
The guard’s jacket fluttered to his sides as blood dripped down his face and
clothes.

“Nice to meet you!” Ghost shouted back
at the guard as he ran after Bridget.

None of the curious bystanders dared
to stand in Ghost’s way as they bee-lined around the parked cars and jumped
into Bridget’s. She yanked the ignition to life and sped away from the parking
lot before they got eyes on a single police car.

~
FIFTEEN ~

Ghost

Ghost picked at the scabs already building on his
knuckles and sighed. The two men standing above him, literally looking down at
him as they berated him like a child, were not amused.

“You’re a lucky little shit,” said
the sheriff. “Stephen Cary could buy this town twice over if he was so
inclined, and you beat the hell out of one of his very expensive security
detail.”

“I did the guy a favor. He’s
obviously over-paying for the services, if that’s all it took to beat that fool.”

“Christ, Ghost,” said Henry Oliver,
standing next to the sheriff and shaking his head.

“What?” said Ghost with a
faux-innocent shrug. “Look, I can’t expect you guys to understand, because you
clearly don’t care about what goes into your bodies like I do.” He gestured
tenderly to the big beer bellies that both men had been cultivating over the
past few years. “But when you just want to clear the rotten chi out of your day
and some jagweed in a suit takes the last asparagus water from the shelf, well…
a man’s got his limits.”

“You committed an assault in full
view of the public,” said Henry, exasperated.

“C’mon, you said nobody identified
me!” said Ghost to the sheriff.

“Not by
name
, you lucky little
shit,” he said again. “But it only took one of those parking lot cell phone
recordings for me to recognize your bald head and big mouth.”

“We’ve done worse in this town,” said
Ghost. “You guys are making this a way bigger deal than it is.”

Really, Ghost knew it was a big deal,
but he was going to do any and everything to deflect pressure off Bridget and
her plans to help Toby. So far, neither the sheriff nor Henry had mentioned a
single word about anybody remembering a woman involved in the altercation. But
they all had plenty to say about the ripped dude with the shaved head who took
down the bigger man in the suit right in front of the natural foods store. As
long as everyone was focused on Ghost, they wouldn’t be looking for her.

“I don’t think you get how loud and
boisterous the rich can be when they don’t want to deal with something,” said
the sheriff, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. “And you started a
gladiator match right in the middle of their little enclave.”

“Those housewives probably went home
and boned the shit out of their husbands after watching such a masculine
display of power. They should be thanking me.”

The sheriff and Henry fell silent and
looked at each other with heavy glances. Ghost could read their silent
conversation like they were playing a recording of it for him. They knew he was
full of shit about why he started the fight, but neither of them had any idea
what the real reason was. They wanted to challenge him; they just didn’t have
the proof to do it.

Not only was Ghost not giving them
anything they wanted, he was also learning some interesting things himself.
Like the fact that neither Stephen Cary, nor his jagweed of a bodyguard, were
going to press charges against Ghost for the attack. Considering all the
eyewitnesses, video, and the power of money in the legal system, there were
only a few explanations as to why Cary would not bother pursuing such a slam
dunk of a vengeance quest.

The most likely one—and the one Ghost
knew in his gut was right—was that Cary was, indeed, beating the fuck out of
his family, and when his bodyguard and housekeeper told him about the earlier
parts of the confrontation with Bridget, Cary knew what had really started the
fight. Pressing charges on Ghost could potentially expose him to an investigation
that he couldn’t control, and ruin the fucked-up little kingdom of terror he
had built for his family. So, instead, he was letting it all blow away in the
wind.

Ghost knew for absolute certain that
Bridget was right in her concerns about Toby. Not that he’d really doubted her
before, of course. But having Cary’s unconscious confirmation turned Ghost’s
focus into something far more solid and workable.

He felt bad about being such a
combative dick to Henry when all the guy was doing was trying to keep Ghost out
of trouble, but he didn’t have a choice. He hadn’t worn his cut during the
fight, so the MC’s involvement was minimal. None of those rich fucks recognized
him enough to connect him with the Black Dogs. He was just some random dirt bag
who wasn’t even going to get charged for it. The stakes would be far worse if
he gave in and told them about Toby and Bridget now, before they worked out how
to best help the kid. Ghost just hoped Henry would understand and forgive him
when all was said and done; but for now, he had to leave him in the dark. He
promised Bridget he would follow her lead and he intended to keep that promise
to the end.

“Ghost,” said Henry, folding his
arms. He was trying to gather patience. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten
up your ass lately, but it seems like every time I turn around, you’re causing
problems for this club.”

Ghost rolled his eyes. “Great, here
we go. Sitting down for a heart-to-heart with my two dads. Can you stop fucking
talking to me like I’m a child?”

“Can you stop acting like one?”

Ghost rose to his feet. “I act like a
child? Why, because I refuse to swagger around like the rest of these idiots
and pretend that life isn’t one big fucking joke?”

“Ghost, did it ever fucking occur to
you that maybe some people
don’t agree with you
?” said Henry. “And that
it’s exhausting to keep cleaning up the messes your big mouth makes?”

“No one asked you to clean up shit,”
said Ghost. “And this club agrees with me goddamn fine when there’s some
dangerous warehouse full of Yakuza to infiltrate, or when your own daughter’s
been snatched by some lowlifes and needs rescuing. No one seemed to give a shit
about my sense of humor then.”

Henry fell silent. To Ghost, it was
as good as an admission that he was right.

“The fucker isn’t pressing charges.
This is done. Let’s move the fuck on.” He looked from Henry to the sheriff and
back again.

“And you’re not going to tell me
what’s really going on, the real reason you started that fight?” said Henry
with a raised eyebrow. “You’re going to stand here and cut out your MC brothers
from whatever it is you’re doing on your off time?”

His words stung a little. Ghost said,
“It’s not like that. But I don’t call in weapons I don’t have use for. That’s
just wasteful.”

“So something is going on.”

“Something is going on, yes. It’s not
your problem.”

Henry studied his face for a moment
before he finally took a big, deep breath and shook his head. “You’re a bit of
a lightning rod, kid, you know that?”

“Hey, this isn’t my fault. And
neither is the Lucero shit.
Force majeure
.”

“Well, you’re the first member in
fifteen years to cause us to have to call a tribunal, so fault or not, you’re
going down in the history books.”

“What’s so important about this
tribunal bullshit?” Ghost put his hands on his hips.

Before he continued, Henry excused
himself to walk the sheriff back out to his car. Ghost just gave the cop a
sarcastic wave as he left. Henry returned and poured them both a whiskey before
he came back to the table.

“To Tommy,” said Ghost.

“To Tommy.” Glasses clinked and they
drank.

Henry wiped his mouth and said, “It’s
hard getting multiple charters together, and harder still to get a group of men
who want to live outside the law to gather together and enforce laws. But, it’s
going to be done. Per the bylaws, we’ve called the nearest six charters to
gather here. They should arrive in the next few days.”

“This place is gonna be bumping,”
said Ghost.

“It’s not a party,” said Henry with a
serious face. “We’re going to have to treat this much like a trial. Lucero and
the Eagleton men are going to try and discredit you. You should be ready for
it.”

“I’ve never been less afraid of
anyone in my life than I am of Lucero.”

“Whoever gets the blame in this
outcome is going to suffer consequences. Not just the monetary hits against the
club for the hospital bills, but someone’s going to have to pay with his
reputation.”

“Yeah, Lucero. It’s his fuck up.”

“It might not turn out that way,
Ghost. Are you ready for that?”

Ghost fell silent. He knew what Henry
was trying to do, and he felt insulted. He joked all the time, but it wasn’t
like he didn’t think about serious shit. In fact, he thought about darker, more
fucked up stuff than any of them ever realized. And he had damn well thought
about what might happen if this didn’t turn out how he planned.

“I’m not lying,” said Ghost. “I’m not
making anything up about what I saw with Lucero. I stand by it. Even if this
fancy tribunal doesn’t swing my way, I have my integrity regardless. Or are you
telling me that’s in question, now, too?”

Henry looked at his whiskey glass and
Ghost almost thought there was something like shame on his face. “Not as far as
I’m concerned,” he said after a silent moment. “You’ve been a dependable
brother, Ghost. I get that you’re a different breed. I’ve met men like you
before. A lot of men like you stumbled out of the jungles of Vietnam.”

Ghost actually felt his heart seize
up. He didn’t reply.

“You’re not like any of the boys
here. They all had rough times, but not like you did. They haven’t seen the
things you’ve seen… haven’t had to fight the same demons you’ve fought. I know
why you joke all the time. And sometimes it breaks me to think about it.”

Ghost was completely disarmed in that
moment. He could only stare at Henry with unsure eyes.

“The trouble is that we’re not at war
anymore, at least not often,” said Henry. “And people who haven’t seen the dark
aren’t going to understand that you’re fighting it. Men like us, we don’t just
protect civilization from the monsters themselves; we protect them from the myths
of the monsters by being stronger than them. And humor is one way to be
stronger than them.”

Ghost averted his gaze and said, “So
you’re saying… I have to change this in order to do my job? That I have to fix
the myth I’m writing?”

“No,” said Henry. “You are who you
are and we’re lucky to have you. But you have to learn to use different tools
when the ones you have aren’t getting the job done. Right now, you need a group
of men who don’t know you from Adam to believe you over Lucero, and if they don’t,
it could cost you and this club a great deal of hurt. Do you really think going
in with your wit is going to get the job done? Are you sure everyone’s going to
understand you like I do?”

Ghost didn’t reply. He had no answer.

“Think about it,” said Henry. He rose
and took Ghost’s empty whiskey glass with him. “This isn’t me condemning you,
son. Every platoon needs someone like you. Men like you keep the quiet demons
at bay, the ones that chew on your bravery and strength when you’re not
looking. I just don’t want to see you tie a noose around your own neck, that’s
all. I want you around my club for a good long time.”

Henry left Ghost there with the echo
of his words.