30. Truth #2
“But I need you to understand something. You got the chance to protect your sister years ago.” His jaw tightens. “But I couldn’t protect my brother.”
He presses his lips together.
“I won’t let it get to that point again. I can’t. I fucking can’t.” His shoulders rise with a deep breath. “Between you and him, he’s the one I care about. You can play your pranks. Whatever. But don’t fucking cross the line.”
“What would’ve happened tonight,” he continues quietly, “if instead of a taser, Ria slipped a gun into your hand?”
My vision darkens. The room tilts. I’m suddenly sick.
It’s only when I feel Gary’s tiny claws puncturing my jeans as he climbs my leg that I get a grip on myself. When did he get to me? I haul him into my arms, pressing him close, using the warmth of his tiny body and soft fur to anchor myself to reality.
I take a few measured breaths, then look back at Bones.
“I can’t give you an answer, because I don’t know it,” I whisper, the truth painful in my throat. “But I can tell you that the way I feel right now is very different from the way I felt at the beginning of this night. He’s not in danger of me tasering him — or anything else — anytime soon.”
All emotion drains from his face. But his eyes? It’s like a curtain lifts, and I glimpse the world of pain hiding behind it.
“He told you.”
I barely hear the words, but we both know what he’s talking about. I just nod slowly, letting silence fall while I sift through the wreckage of this conversation.
My thoughts are tangled, but after tonight, the realization comes fast — I can’t demand honesty but refuse to give it myself. I don’t want to hide anymore. Lies and half-truths is where my life fell apart.
A few minutes later, the silence breaks with my shaky confession.
“The first time I met her. When I saw the way she talked to Ghost in the hospital. That’s when I knew Ria had some strange power over this club.”
Bones’ brows furrow, his gaze sharpening on me.
“I didn’t plan it,” I continue. “It all just… fell into place. When I found some darts in a drawer one day, I just casually mentioned that I wished karma was real while holding one of them.”
I swallow hard before I speak again.
“I knew I didn’t have to do or say more.”
I’ve never admitted this to myself. I kept telling myself I didn’t want to hurt him back. That I just wanted to forget him. That I carried my own guilt and we were even. But the pain kept slipping through the cracks.
Even tonight, I told him I don’t want to be that kind of person. Because I couldn’t face the truth.
Fate handed me Ria as my chance at revenge, and instead of walking away, I took it. Instead of breaking the cycle, I kept it going.
Fuck. This is ugly.
Bones leans forward, elbows on his knees. The curtain falls back over his eyes.
“Did it make you feel better? When she used that dart?”
My head drops. “For about ten seconds.”
He sighs and stands slowly. “That’s because you’re still in love with him.”
He says those words like an absolute, undeniable truth. My eyes snap up to his. I know it’s true, but fuck, how does he know it?
He smirks, almost playful. When he speaks, his voice is stripped of the tension and anger from before.
“If you hated him, you would’ve felt better for at least a month.” His brows knit together thoughtfully. “Or so I’ve been told.”
He starts walking toward the door, but my curiosity rears its big head before he makes it there.
“How long did Temperance feel better for?”
The question stops him cold. His shoulders shake with a quiet chuckle.
“Way more than a month, Princess. Waaay more,” he says without turning back, laughter in his voice.
Then he’s gone. And I’m left sitting in this chair, trying to deal with an emotional avalanche that’s seconds away from swallowing me whole.
I’m not alone for long though. Ria slips through the door less than a minute later, already talking before she even steps inside.
“Whatever the fuck Bones said to you, ignore it.” Her voice is clipped, ready to reject any counter-argument. “He’s an idiot. He’s always been an idiot. He has no idea what he’s talking about half the time. He’s just butthurt about the taser.”
She drops into the same chair Bones used with a huff and stares at me expectantly. Practically vibrating with the need for confirmation.
I sigh and sink deeper into my seat, hugging Gary closer to my chest.
“He wasn’t an idiot this time, Ria,” I whisper.
“He said I used you for revenge against Ghost, and he was right,” I murmur.
“Remember the darts? What I said when I found them? I knew what would happen. What you’d do.
I’m sorry, Ria. I should’ve talked to you.
I should’ve had the courage to do it myself if I really wanted to. Instead, I dragged you into my mess.”
Her fist slams into the table, making both me and Gary jump. Gary hisses. And before I know it, Ria’s finger is less than an inch from my nose.
“That stupid biker turned you into an idiot, too,” she snaps, then immediately yanks her hand back when Gary takes a swipe at it.
“Down, kitty,” she scolds, narrowing her eyes. “I’m not attacking your mama.” Her expression softens. “You’re a good guard kitty, though. I’ll bring you a snack later.”
Then she turns back to me.
“You, though? No snack. You’re a bad Princess for falling for Bones’ bullshit.” She crosses her arms, eyes hard as steel. “Do you think I just tell anyone about my work with poisonous shit? About my history with these bikers? Do you think I didn’t know what you wanted?”
She lifts a finger, stopping me before I can answer.
“Of course I knew. I couldn’t come right out and say it because you were fragile. You weren’t ready to admit you craved revenge. You just kept rambling about moving on. That you were even.”
She scrunches her nose, sticking out her tongue. “Bleah to all of that.”
“So I suggested you ignore Ghostberry. It was all you could handle back then.” An unhinged smile spreads across her face. “But Princess, don’t kid yourself. By the time you found the darts, I'd already tried poisoning Polterbitch at least five times.”
She leans back, a put-off expression on her face. “I can’t believe you’d listen to Bones, of all people.”
“To be fair, he never said you weren’t aware of it,” I mumble with a frown.
Her smile turns vicious. “Oh, I bet he knows I was aware. And willing.”
Then she sobers. “What did he actually want?”
I inhale the biggest breath of my life and let it out with a whoosh. “To protect his brother. He’s afraid I might start shooting real guns instead of tasers.”
I glance down at Gary, scratching behind his ears. He purrs louder. I wish I were a cat.
“A little late for his intervention, though,” I add, looking back at Ria. “Tonight I realized that both Ghost and I have been too focused on each other, and we forgot about the real enemies in our lives.”
Suddenly, it’s too hard to swallow. “We fought and hurt each other while those people lived without a care in the world.”
I don’t even realize there are tears on my cheeks until Ria leans forward and wipes them away with her thumbs.
“Their time will come,” she whispers gently.
Her eyes search mine for a few seconds, worry shining through. Then she leans back with a soft smile and pulls her phone from the pocket of her frilly skirt.
“Let’s listen to some music,” she says casually, already tapping the screen.
The sound of Ghost’s violin fills the room and my soul at the same time. I close my eyes and let myself sink into the music for a few minutes. Let it pull me out of the shadows.
“I can’t believe he recorded this track,” I whisper, eyes still closed.
“Why wouldn’t he?” Ria whispers back, sounding almost as entranced as I am.
I sift through old memories and look at her, a sad smile tugging at my lips.
“He never wanted to record any of his music. Said he didn’t like how it sounded. I tried to convince him years ago to record this one for me, but he refused. Said he’d always be there to play it for me. That I didn’t need a recording.”
I swallow hard as the tears threaten again.
“Little did he know.”
Oh, fuck this fucking sadness. I’m so tired of it. I want it gone. So I clear my throat. Sit up straight. My smile turns wicked.
“I used to make my mother’s tea with toilet water,” I announce proudly.
Ria blinks rapidly. Stunned beyond comprehension. She lifts a hand slowly, mouth agape.
“I—I need a moment to process the whiplash.”
“I did the same with my ex-husband’s coffee,” I continue. “He got toilet water too.”
A few seconds pass. I keep my wicked smile. Ria keeps staring at me.
Then, as if on cue, we both burst out laughing. Gary protests when my whole body starts shaking. I let him go, gasping for air between wheezes.
“Oh my god, you’re like the sneakiest of the Avengers,” Ria manages once we finally settle. “Please tell me Ghostberry got toilet water too.”
“Nu-uh.” I shake my head. “I only had his beer to work with. But don’t worry,” I add with a chuckle, standing abruptly, “he still got something.”
“Ria, this night was a fucking nightmare. I need a better ending to this clusterfuck,” I declare, my tone that of a general going to war. “Let’s have a party!”
She jumps from her seat with a wide grin, ready to join my war.
Less than an hour later, we’re absurdly wasted, cosplaying Coyote Ugly on top of the bar.
The clubhouse is almost empty. My movements are unsteady, completely off balance, but my mind is oddly calm. Ghost is at the bar too, eyes locked on me like lasers. I can feel the heat of his gaze on my skin, even like this.
There is no hope for us as a couple. Truth is, there never was. But right now, I know — with a certainty I’ve never felt before — that if I fall from this bar top, he’ll catch me.
Why is someone knocking at my door at this ungodly hour?
“What?” I bite out, flinging it open without checking who’s on the other side.
“Whatever the tequila from last night is doing to your brain right now is not my fault,” Ghost murmurs, leaning against the doorframe, barely hidden amusement in his eyes.
My gaze narrows. I’m too hungover to have any kind of patience.
“I’ve only been overdoing it since you came back into my life,” I mutter, turning toward a chair and leaving the door open for him. “So it’s definitely your fault.”
He strolls in looking like a million bucks. I collapse into the chair feeling like a million poops.
“What do you need, Ghost?” I almost whine, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to wake up. “It’s too early for anything.”
His mouth curves, his eyes never leaving me.
“Actually, it’s past noon. Lunch is ready.
You drank too much last night, so you need to eat.
Plus…” He drags the word out, brows lifting as he raises a syringe with a thick needle.
“I promised you could track me. Figured you’d want to make sure the tracker goes where it should. ”
I’m on my feet instantly, the chair scraping loudly behind me, nearly toppling. My arm shoots out and I snatch the syringe from his hand. Hangover — gone. Sleep — forgotten.
My nostrils flare as I stare at the tiny cylinder suspended in the liquid.
“Pants down. Now.”
From the corner of my eye, I see him press his lips together, itching to say something. In the end, he keeps his mouth shut, turns around, and does as he’s told. The clink of his belt snaps my full focus back to him.
For a second, I falter. My breath catches in my throat. He could’ve just pulled the waistband of his jeans down a little, but he went for a full ass display. My gums ache. I bit that ass once, and it felt good.
“I can take my shirt off too, adorable.” His voice, low and smooth, slips into my brain and nearly sets it on fire.
He watches me over his shoulder, eyes gleaming with a dare.
“That won’t be necessary,” I say primly, pointing the syringe at him like a sword.
“We’ll revisit that idea later,” he murmurs, promise threading his tone. His gaze flicks to my raised hand, then back to my face. “For now, just don’t stab me with the needle. Slide it in at an angle so the tracker doesn’t go too deep.”
I tilt my head, intrigued. “What happens if it does?”
His eyes harden. “It’ll be a motherfucker to remove when it dies.”
I step closer, my eyes widening, my eyebrows rising so high they might as well float off my face.
“Adora—”
Too late. I’m already leaning in as the needle pierces skin, his ass cheek flexing.
“Don’t be such a worrywart, Ghost,” I brush him off. “I’m being careful.”
He sighs, looks at the ceiling, and goes quiet — which means he either knows I’m messing with him or he’s accepted whatever fate hands him.
I focus on finishing the job.
The second I slide the needle out, it hits me. Power. Control. World domination. The rush is so intense I sway on my feet. I’ll know everywhere he goes now. Every movement of a man who’s so good at sneaking, no one ever sees him coming. I feel like I just won something.
He pulls his pants back up while I’m dealing with my little power trip, then turns to me.
I barely register his fingers gently prying my hand open and taking the syringe. When I look up, he’s watching me closely, his brows pinched together.
“Give me your phone,” he murmurs, his touch lingering against my skin a moment too long.
I turn and grab my phone from the small table behind me, then hand it to him, avoiding his eyes. That look on his face is too serious, and I don’t want that right now. I had too much of it last night.
He taps the screen and, a minute later, holds the phone out to me.
“The app is pretty straightforward, but—”
“I’ll figure it out,” I rush out, taking the phone and forcing a smile. “You can go now. I’ll get dressed and come down to eat. I’m starving!”
He gets a look. One I don’t like. I don’t give him the chance to speak again and start pushing him toward the door.
“Now, Ghost.”
I put all my strength into it, but it doesn’t work. He doesn’t move at all.
He gives me the look again, but in the end, grants me mercy and leaves.
I watch his dot moving on my phone screen for a full half hour before I go down to eat.