Chapter 34 #2
“What’s wrong?” Reaper and I ask at the same time.
He lifts his gaze to me, then shifts it to Santiago. His jaw hardens. “You need to get out. This is club business.”
There’s no argument, no hesitation. Santiago’s gone in seconds, the door slamming shut behind him hard enough to rattle the walls.
Those seconds are all it takes for my pulse to spike, blood roaring in my ears. Whatever just came through that phone, it’s bad. Really bad.
Fuck. I don’t need this — not after everything.
“Dom,” Bones says quietly, regret filling his eyes. “The feds picked up all the dirty cops.”
“But?” I whisper, my chest tightening like an anvil’s been dropped right on it.
“Tank collapsed on the way to Bowie,” he continues, swallowing hard. “Fang had to take him to the hospital. He’s going to be okay, but—”
The room bends. A high-pitched ringing fills my head, drowning out everything else.
“Bowie got away,” I murmur, numb spreading through me.
Bones nods slowly, watching me like he’s waiting for an explosion. Mindfuck and Reaper start cursing angrily under their breath, but I barely register it. I shut everything down. The rage, the pain, that sick feeling in my gut. I lock it all away and feel myself go cold.
“That’s fine.” My voice is flat. Dead. Stripped of anything human. “I’ll get him later.”
I straighten, already moving, already calculating. “We need to clear out. We’ve been here too long.”
Adora
“Why isn’t he moving?” I mumble, staring at my phone like it might spring to life any moment now. Then I spin my chair toward Domino and point at him across the counter, accusing, my arm shaking. “You said he was on his way here, but the dot isn’t moving.”
Domino looks at me like I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. He’s currently lounging in the reading corner of my bookstore, flipping pages lazily, his calm demeanor in sharp contrast to how I feel.
“I don’t know. He’s probably waiting at a traffic light or something,” he says slowly, blinking just as slowly. Like he has no idea what the fuck is wrong with me.
Sucks for him. I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me either.
Actually, that’s not right. I do know what’s wrong.
I need to see Ghost alive with my own two eyes.
The dot on the tracker app isn’t enough anymore.
That stupid biker went after a whole cartel, and I know — I know — he put himself in unnecessary danger.
Domino says he’s fine, but what the fuck does he know?
He was with me all weekend at the clubhouse, just repeating whatever he heard on the phone.
Damn it, I miss my old bubble of ignorance. My stomach feels like it’s churning butter. Not even my jog this morning managed to bring my anxiety down.
…And then there’s my mother. They’re bringing her here, to Silverpine. That alone is enough to mess with my head. In a twisted way, it feels like her life is in my hands, like I could save her if I wanted to.
But fuck it to smithereens — I don’t want to, and I don’t know if that makes me a bad person. I didn’t cry when I found out my father died. Not one tear. I just erased him from my mind like he never existed.
But it’s different with my mother.
I feel something about her death, and that feeling scares me, because it’s happiness.
It’s so much fucking happiness that she gets to experience a fraction of the pain she put me through, even if only for a short time.
I want to celebrate it like it’s the Fourth of July and Christmas wrapped in one, and I don’t know what to make of that.
After a few more minutes of my mind spiraling, the dot finally moves again, straight toward Next Chapter.
When he’s near, I’m instantly out of my chair — and then I freeze, eyes locked on the front door.
When the bell chimes and Ghost steps inside, my knees nearly give out. He’s walking on his own, so that’s a good sign. He gives Domino a nod and heads straight for me. My eyes scan him, finding no visible wounds except a deep bruise and a cut on his cheek.
I can live with that.
“You said two days and it’s been three. You’re a day late!” The words rip out of me before I can stop them. “And where’s my fucking note? There wasn’t one this morning.”
Shit. I sound unhinged even to myself.
His eyebrows climb higher with every step he takes. When he finally stops, the corner of his mouth hooks up in a slow, maddening smile. He sets a paper bag in front of me and slides it across the counter slowly.
“Domino said you forgot your lunch this morning,” he murmurs. “I stopped at the diner and grabbed you something.”
Warmth spreads through my chest, flooding my whole body. Dammit. Why am I so embarrassingly easy to please? Control your issues, Adora!
“I didn’t forget,” I mutter, aiming for snark and missing the mark entirely. “I was running late. Didn’t have time to make anything.”
I peek into the bag. “What did you get me?” I was banking on Ria’s muffins to tide me over until dinner, but the thought of something more substantial makes my stomach happy.
His smile turns into a devious smirk that makes my breath hitch.
He leans in, voice dropping low enough to curl around my spine. “A BLT.” His eyes rake over me, slow and thorough. “It’s not as good as the one I make, but it’ll do.”
Then he licks his bottom lip like he’s about to bite into chocolate cake.
“For now,” he adds lightly, as if he didn’t just drag up the memory of the first time he made me one and we ended up fucking like rabbits.
Heat floods straight between my thighs. I almost clamp my legs together before I catch myself.
Oh, this asshole. Two can play this game.
I shove the bag aside and lean forward too, mirroring his posture, wearing my own sinful little smirk.
“Make me one soon, Ghost,” I purr, my voice drenched in honey and sex. “Your BLT was so good I’d love to put it in my mouth again. So thick. So juicy. All that special sauce.”
I trail a finger from my parted lips, down my throat, to the swell of my cleavage. His eyes follow, helpless, like he’s hypnotized.
“And if it dripped,” I add softly, “I wouldn’t waste a single drop.”
I tilt my head, my smirk turning into a satisfied smile, and wait.
His chest rises suddenly, like he’s a second away from exploding. He squeezes his eyes shut, swallows hard, then opens them again, one hand shifting to adjust the very obvious bulge in his jeans.
“Goddamn,” he breathes. “You win this time, adorable.”
I shoot him a glare. “I’ll win every time.”
The stupid banter lifts the fog of anxiety and, for the first time since he stepped through the door, I catch the glint of worry and anger in his eyes. He hides it well — but not well enough. Which means whatever’s wrong is fucking bad. The thought sobers me instantly.
“What happened this weekend?” The question slips out quietly, before he can say anything else.
His expression falters. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter, and exhales slowly, like he’s bracing himself.
“Sombra’s gone,” he says. “Your mother will follow. Today.”
He hesitates, eyes lifting to mine. “Do you want to see her before then?”
“No.” I shake my head without a second’s pause. “I have nothing to say to the witch. And even if I did, she’d never admit she did anything wrong.” A humorless breath leaves me. “It’d be a waste of fucking time.”
I inhale deeply, steadying myself.
“Just tell me when it’s over,” I say, venom threading my voice. “So I can celebrate.”
Then I straighten, crossing my arms, my armor sliding into place. “Now tell me what went wrong. I’m sure something did.”
He looks down at the counter, jaw tightening, then back at me.
“Bowie got away,” he rasps. “And since the cartel found out you’re in Silverpine, I have to assume he knows too.”
I press my lips together, forcing down the curse burning the back of my throat.
“I’m not getting rid of my bodyguard anytime soon, am I?” I ask, voice as dry as the desert.
“No, adorable,” he replies quietly. “In fact, you’ll have three now. Domino. Me. And Hellbat.”
He drags a hand down his face, tension etched into every line.
“Bowie worked as a cop, so he’s not a small threat. I don’t know if he’ll actually come for you, but I’m not taking any chances.” A deep sigh leaves his chest. “I asked some friends to help track him down. They’re ones of the best hunters in the business, so I’m hoping this ends fast.”
He swallows. “I can’t go myself…”
Even in this dire fucking situation, those words manage to make me smile.
“Because you need to keep an eye on me yourself,” I whisper, warmth unfurling inside me again.
He nods, watching me like he’s expecting resistance.
But I’m not an idiot. I spent too many years with Bowie to misunderstand him.
He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he doesn’t need to be.
He’ll eventually make the connection between me and his sudden run of bad luck, and once he does, I am absolutely sure his anger will drive him here.
He’ll want to ‘teach me a lesson’, as he used to put it.
“Well,” I huff, “I feel awfully important right now, having so many men watching over my safety.” His eyes widen slightly, surprised, and my smile stretches. “I’d make a dirty joke, but I’m not sure you’d survive another round of teasing today.”
He smiles back, even if the worry doesn’t fully leave his eyes.
“Thank you for your mercy, adorable,” he mutters, amusement in his voice.
Then he straightens, drawing in a quick breath.
“I’ll deal with your mother. Then I’ll come back later, and take you for a bike ride.
” Something I’m not sure that I’m ready for flickers in his eyes.
“There are some other things we need to talk about.”
Fuck. From that tone alone, I’m definitely not ready.
I’m just about to say something incredibly brainless — like asking if I can bring my therapist or my cat to this future conversation — when the bell above the door chimes.
Laura, the town dentist and a permanent fixture at the Broken Hearts Weekly Book Club, steps inside and immediately freezes, wide eyes ping-ponging between Ghost and Domino.
“H—H—Hi,” she stutters, breath catching in her throat.
“Hi, Laura. Come in. I’ll be with you in just a moment,” I say, offering her what I hope is a reassuring smile.
Ghost writes her off instantly and turns back to me without a second look. I glare at his rudeness. He could’ve at least said hi to the woman! Thankfully, Domino swoops in, waving her toward the reading corner, and Laura practically skips over to him. At least one biker has some fucking manners.
Before I can scold him, the mountain of leather and poor social skills leans forward over the counter.
“You’re fucking incredible, Adora,” he murmurs against my ear, brushing his lips over my cheek before straightening and flashing me a smirk so wicked it feels illegal.
With those parting words, he turns and walks out of the bookstore like he didn’t just short-circuit my entire nervous system.
“Princess! Please tell me he brought something to eat for me too,” Domino calls out. “I might not be the love of his life, but I’m hungry and I deserve to be fed.”
Laura chuckles and says something too, but I don’t hear a word.
My eyes drop to the counter, where a small note now sits, the words ‘You’re incredible’ scribbled on it in blue ink. I brush my thumb over the paper, a dangerous, impossible wish blooming to life in my chest.