GHOST: An MC Romance: DEVIL'S CREED MC (Devils Creed MC Book 2)

Chapter 3

Ghost

One Month Later

The steel of the cot beneath me only added to the pain piercing through my back as I labored for breath. I was no doctor, but I was positive that motherfucker broke my ribs. It was the third time that month I’d been stuck in the infirmary.

“Motherfucker,” I groaned, trying to get comfortable.

I had to get the fuck out of the infirmary. Between the strong scent of bleach and the flickering florescent lights that ran along the ceiling, I was on the verge of losing my fucking mind. I’d give anything to hurry my court date along so I could go home. Bianchi swore he was working as fast as he could, but he was going to have to do better.

I turned my head towards the door when the sound of keys jingling from the other side, followed by the heavy clunk of the lock being turned, caught my attention. Clenching my fists, I held my breath and rolled onto my side. As much as I wished I could brace fully for what might stroll in, I didn’t have much left in the take. I was fucking beat—literally.

I held my breath when the door was thrown open and let it out in a whoosh when it was my father who came storming through.

My eyes closed in relief.

Thank fuck.

As much as I hated my Pop having to see me like that, it had been over a month since I’d seen a friendly face. Although, in that moment he looked like he was about to flip his fucking lid.

His eyes moved swiftly across my body, no doubt taking in every inch of black and blue flesh. “What the fuck?” he shouted.

“It’s nothing,” I lied, not wanting him to make a big deal of things. His eyes widened, unable to hide his disbelief at what he was seeing.

I knew he was pissed; I could see the wheels turning in his head.

My pop had never been the kind of man who let anyone fuck with his family, especially when it came to my brother and me.

Unfortunately, he was going to have to stow that shit for later.

I would be the one to handle the motherfuckers who jumped my ass. Knowing they were on borrowed time was the only thing keeping me sane and no one, not even my father, was taking that from me.

“Nothing, my ass,” he growled, taking the chair next to me.

“You shouldn’t be here, Pop.” My eyes slammed shut when I tried to scoot higher up the bed inadvertently knocking the air out of my lungs.

Definitely had a few broken ribs.

“Three fuckin’ months they’ve been keeping us from seeing you, Son. I knew something was up when they tried to block me again,” he said, nodding toward the door. “Told that fat fucker if he didn’t let me see you today, I was going to bring the club down on his ass.” Worry creased his brow as he looked me over again.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I groaned, holding onto my side as my body reminded me why talking should be kept to a minimum.

Fuck, that hurt.

“Fucking bullshit.”

I sighed carefully. Yeah, it was, but there wasn’t shit we could do about it.

“I’m surprised they let you in at all. It’d be bad publicity if word got out the guards were beating on inmates.” I didn’t go into more detail. My pop was having a hard enough time seeing me like that.

”Got a nanny for the kid,” he said, changing the subject and reminding me why I needed to get the fuck out of there.

My baby girl—Payton.

That was another thing that would need to be dealt with once I was free. Tracking down her mother. That crazy bitch waited until I was locked up before coming out of the gutter and dropping my baby girl on Banner’s doorstep. She would pay once I found her.

“Bishop.” I cringed at my father’s use of my government name.

“Yeah.” I shook my head. “I’m listening. The nanny…” I trailed off waiting for him to continue.

“Name”s Rae. Came highly recommended. Your brother and his old lady approve too.”

“Ray?” My fists clenched and I saw black just thinking about another man watching over my little girl. I knew the times were different and gender roles were a thing of the past, but Payton was my daughter. Fuck, I hadn’t even seen her yet and another man was doing my job.

Sensing how much the news affected me, Pop grabbed onto my shoulder and squeezed. “The kid needed someone other than me, Ghost. I couldn’t keep rotating club whores in and out of your house.” He shook his head. “My granddaughter deserves better than that. It’s only temporary until you get out of this shithole, Son.”

“Yeah,” I grunted. I didn’t like it, but he was right. My baby girl didn’t need a string of bitches coming in and out of her life after the shit her mother had done. “I’ll be out soon enough.”

With any luck Bianchi would pick up the pace and work his fucking magic to get me out of there.

Pop opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off when the door opened and in walked the warden.

Here we go.

Pop’s eyes narrowed on the warden and the coward looked away, refusing to make eye contact.

His ass was on my list, too. There was no way he didn’t know what his fucking men did behind the prison walls. The beatings I’d taken were probably sanctioned through him.

Fucker.

“Times up, St. James. I let you see him, now you need to leave,” he said shakily.

“Remember what I told you, Warden.” The warning was clear, but Pop was wasting his breath. While I was stuck behind the prison walls, I was on my own.

Pop’s eyes came back to me, and he sighed. “Keep your head on a swivel, boy.”

I snorted. I didn’t have a choice. “Take care of my girl.”

“With my life,” he vowed as he followed the warden out.

At the sound of the door being locked, I sagged deeper into the flimsy mattress and closed my eyes, drifting off to images of a baby girl who looked just like me.

* * *

A Day Later

I lifted my head when I heard the loud clank of keys turning in the lock of my cell.

“It”s your lucky day, St. James. We’re letting you out of here,” the warden boomed as he prowled inside.

I lifted a brow, unsure what he was on about. There was no way the State of New York was letting me out when I still had more than a year left of my two-year sentence to serve.

The warden’s eyes flashed to me, then quickly moved to the poster hanging from the concrete wall. “Overcrowding,” he lied.

Overcrowding my ass.

With the number of stripped parts they’d found on the Lucifer, I was lucky all I got was two years.

I had a feeling my brother pulled a lot of strings for that to happen.

Whatever the cost, I’d pay him back because I wanted out of that shithole, and I didn’t care how it came to be.

Holding onto my side, I lifted up onto my ass and swung my legs over the side of my bunk.

“When?” I asked, planting my feet onto the floor and groaning when my ribs jarred in my chest. Steadying myself against the wall, I let out a slow even breath as I willed the room to stop spinning.

Fuck.

“Now.”

Eyes closing, I nodded my head. I was ready, but first I needed the merry-go-round in my head to come to a stop. I stood there breathing for a moment and could feel the warden’s eyes on me.

Once I finally felt like I had my bearings, I opened my eyes and pushed off the wall. “Good.” I breathed through the pain. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

”Watch it,” he shot back in warning.

Fuck him. I was ready to go.

I’d been getting the shit kicked out of me for months and I wanted to see my kid. A hot shower and sleeping in my own fucking bed sounded like heaven too.

“You know as well as I do, you’re only doing this to cover your ass. So, let’s skip the bullshit and get me my walkin’ papers, yeah?”

His eyes turned to slits, but he didn’t say a fucking word because he knew it was true. The only reason I wasn’t leaving there in a body bag was because he was afraid of what the club would do to him if something happened to me.

“Let’s go,” he growled.

“Sure thing, boss.” My lips twisted into a smirk. How easily he’d forgotten who ran shit outside the prison walls. That was okay, he’d soon be reminded.

His days were numbered.

“Remember,” his tone hardened, “you’ll still be on parole.”

“Mm.” I towered over him.

His eyes narrowed further and with a final nod, he motioned for me to follow him out.

“St. James!” I gritted my teeth so hard the molars creaked. I knew Marshall’s voice better than I knew my fucking own.

I swung my head around catching sight of the dead man walking. “Watch your back.”

“Likewise,” I shot back.

His hand moved to the club on his hip, but the warden waved him off. “Enough,” he thundered.

Marshall was the first one I’d be tracking down once I recovered. He had been my biggest tormentor, but he wouldn’t be so fucking smug when I caught him on the outside.

The clock was ticking.

“Let’s go,” the warden snapped, shoving me roughly in the back to get me moving. The sudden impact sent a piercing pain through my ribs. My jaw clenched tightly as I struggled to keep from groaning out loud.

“Fucker,” I grumbled under my breath.

The warden knew what he’d done, I was sure of it when he started whistling that same fucking tune I’d been forced to hear for months. He continued to whistle as he led me down the long hallway towards his office where his receptionist was waiting with my papers.

“Angie, give him his shit,” he barked over his shoulder before slamming his office door.

“Here you go, honey,” she said, forcing a smile as she handed over the papers I needed to sign and the bag with my belongings.

She watched as I signed on the Xs, then tucked them away. “You can change in there,” she said softly, pointing to an open door.

Looking where she was indicating, I nodded. “Thanks, darlin’.”

I moved quickly into the restroom, wanting nothing more than to ditch the correctional orange jumpsuit and get back into my street clothes. It hurt like a motherfucker but having my boots back on my feet and the weight of my cut on my shoulders was more than worth it.

As I came back out into the reception area of the warden’s office, I wasn’t surprised to see they’d called in a guard to escort me out.

If they were expecting a fight from me, they were mistaken. I was on my best behavior as he ushered me to the front doors.

I was more than ready to get the fuck out of there.

“Stay out of trouble,” the guard shouted out as a parting gift.

I threw up my middle finger as I pushed through the last door between me and freedom.

He could go fuck himself.

Outside, the world greeted me with a bitch slap of frigid cold air to the face and snowflakes flurrying around me.

You’ve got to be shitting me.

Snow? I pushed my hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone. “Fuck,” I hissed when the damn thing refused to turn on. “Of course, the battery is dead, it’s been sitting in a bag in storage for the last few months,” I muttered to myself.

I glanced back toward the prison, contemplating banging on the door and asking to use their phone for all of five seconds before deciding—Fuck. That.

There was nothing in the world that could get me to step foot back in that hellhole. Not a single thing. I’d hoof it to California if I had to.

“Fuck it. I’m a free man,” I declared to myself as I quickly crossed to the other side of the street.

I didn’t even mind having to walk, especially after spending the last few months in a six-by-eight box.

I kept that in the forefront of my mind for the next twenty-seven blocks as I made my way towards home.

When I rounded the next corner, I saw it—home sweet fucking home. As I stood there, halted in my tracks, an unfamiliar emotion hit me like a sledgehammer. I’d taken the things that meant the most to me for granted for years and I vowed in that moment to do better.

“Ghost? Is that you?” I jolted at the sound of Crow’s voice and turned toward the guard shack. Crow stepped out, breath floating in the air and his coat pulled tight around him.

“Yeah,” I called back as my eyes continued around him toward the clubhouse. The place was lit up like the Fourth of July and the music was pumping. My dick perked up at the sight.

Down boy.You ain’t parking anywhere but at home tonight.

That decision was solidified when another gust of icy wind whipped around me, and the chill dug deeper into my bones causing my whole body to tense. My ribs protested from the response, and I groaned through the pain.

Fuck, that hurt.

“Damn, brother. You look bad. Why didn’t you call for a pickup?”

I pulled out my phone and waved it around, barely able to speak. “Dead.”

“Right. Let me help you.” Crow came closer and lifted my arm, the leather from my jacket creaking as he wrapped it around his shoulders while sliding his arm around my waist to hold me up.

“Shit,” I hissed, eyes scrunching as I breathed through the pain.

“Sorry.”

“I think I can make it from here,” I rasped, grabbing onto the metal railing in front of my place.

“You sure?” he questioned, worry creasing his brow.

“Yeah, get back to the gate. And do me a favor. Don’t tell anyone I’m home yet. I need a few hours.”

His eyes searched my battered face and he nodded. I knew my family would want to see me, but I needed at least a night to get my head right, and maybe a little longer for my body to heal.

Patience.

I exhaled heavily, letting the weight on my shoulders fall as I climbed up the steps. Once I was at the top, I looked out, surprised at how much snow had accumulated. It was a lot more than I realized. The temperature was dropping too. It would be a bitch to shovel in the morning, but that was a problem for then. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my keys and shakily aimed for the lock and missed. Damn it was freezing.

Come on...

I tried again but my fingers were stiff and uncooperative from the frigid cold, and then, true to my luck, the keys slipped out of my hand, disappearing into the drift of snow.

”Son of a bitch!” I hissed.

Holding onto my ribs to keep them from jarring, I grabbed my keys from the landing, then shoved the key into the lock. It resisted at first, but with a push and twist, it blessedly relented. I’d never been more grateful to be home than when I pushed open that door and the warmth from inside hit me in the face.

Out of habit, I swung the door back and winced when it rattled loudly.

“Goddamn, it”s warm in here,” I muttered under my breath at the same time warning bells started ringing in my mind.

I dropped my head and closed my eyes when the unmistakable sound of a revolver’s hammer being pulled echoed across the room.

Such a rookie fucking move.

I’d made it home without incident, only to get caught slipping into my own fucking house.

Very slowly, I lifted my hands, praying whoever was standing behind me was not about to shoot me in the back.

If I could get them in front of me, I might have a fighting chance. With my hands still raised, I carefully spun on my heels and damn near stumbled when I came face-to-face with the sexiest woman I’d ever seen.

“Jesus,” I hissed as my eyes raked across her body. It probably wasn’t the best response to being held at gunpoint, but the bitch was perfection. The fact she was pointing a goddamn revolver straight at my chest like she knew how to use it, only made my dick harder.

”Who the fuck are you?” we said at the same time.

She was coiled for a fight, and I was ready to pounce.