Chapter Two
Ghost
No one warns you of how dangerously easy it is to fall out of one addiction and into another.
It’s reckless for a recovering alcoholic like myself to fall into yet another pit just as I was done pulling myself out of the last. And yet, here I am, letting myself grow addicted to yet another substance.
More lethal. Scarier than anything I’ve ever taken before.
Iris Turner is a drug.
A sweet little drug, rolled in a swinging, shiny brown bob with curves that tempt me every fucking night.
I have no business coming down to the casino floor, but every night, I find myself wandering here under the guise of making sure the tech executives, crypto bros, hedge fund managers and the real estate moguls that can afford our membership behave.
But really, all I want is to catch a glimpse of her.
One look is all I need. A few minutes to fix this dangerous need that crawls at me.
Just one look. At least that’s what I’ve convinced myself.
I can’t touch her, or anyone for that matter.
Still, I have demons that haunt me. A past that I cannot shed long enough to allow myself a shred of normalcy.
An addiction I’m working to overcome. I know better than to allow myself to get attached to anything. Or anyone.
But I can’t quit her.
So I come down here every night for a couple of minutes to watch her walk around the tables in her tiny little skirt, hips swaying in a way that would tempt any man to sin.
I track every movement of that sexy body, growling deep when a man looks a little too hard.
A second too long. I pretend that my cock isn’t steel hard behind my jeans and that I don’t want to cross the distance between us and ravish that sexy body in front of all these men. Show them who she belongs to.
Goddamnit. I want her!
So does nearly every man in here, it seems. They can look, hell, no one is stopping them from admiring the sexy little thing that is Iris Turner, but that’s all they are allowed to do. No one can touch her! The casino provides privacy rooms and escorts for that exact purpose.
I should leave, get back to my actual work.
Like every good recovering addict, I should know when I’ve had enough and I’m about to turn around to leave when the customer she’s talking to leans close to her to say something, no doubt soliciting her.
Something dark and possessive unfurls in my chest when he grabs her wrist, pulling her across the bar to whisper into her ear.
Rage coils in my gut, obvious enough on my face to send men scrambling out of my way as I start to make my way across the room.
“Ghost.”
“I’ll deal with it,” I tell the floor security when he rushes after me. “Find out who that fucker is and how he got in.”
The man lets go of Iris before I can get to them.
He grabs his beer and disappears into the crowd.
I watch him, conflicted whether I should go to Iris or go after the fucker and teach him a lesson for laying his hands on a woman I’ve claimed as mine, but before I can make the choice, Iris runs in the opposite direction and toward the bathroom. And then the choice is taken from me.
“Make sure he doesn’t leave this place,” I instruct one of my fellow MC members, jutting my chin toward the direction the fucker disappeared to.
“Sure, boss.”
People jump out of my way as I follow Iris and when I see the women’s bathroom door swing closed, I consider it for a minute or two before following her in.
It’s thankfully empty but I’m drawn to the sounds of the wretched sobbing coming from the second stall.
It’s open so I move toward it. The heart I didn’t know I still had clenches when I spot Iris seated on the toilet seat, head buried in her arms as she cries like one who’s lost the will to live.
I crouch in front of her, clenching and unclenching my fist as I fight with myself. The need to touch her is strong but I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk away once I do. I can’t afford her. Not with the demons I’m still battling.
“Iris,” I whisper, and her head shoots up, those tear-stained, large blue eyes blinking up at me, and I realize there’s no walking away, whether or not I touch her.
Christ, she looks so fucking beautiful, the most stunning woman I have ever met in my life and I am crushed with the realization that I don’t just want her in my bed, under me.
No, I want to wrap my arms around her, hold her close.
Protect her from the world. Punish anyone stupid enough to bring tears into those beautiful eyes.
I feel the tug between us. The heat burns into me in a way that cannot be healthy.
“Ghost,” she murmurs, brushing the back of her hand over her wet cheeks. “I…what…this is the women’s bathroom.”
“I saw you upset earlier so I followed you in here… Hey,” I say, a little panicked when those blue gems fill up with tears. She starts folding into herself so I take her hands before she can bury her face back in them. “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“I have to leave,” she sniffs, leaning into my touch when I cup her cheek. “I have to get out of Vegas.”
“And go where?”
“I don’t know!” she wails, pushing into my arms. I wrap an arm around her waist to hold her up before she sends us both toppling back.
Then she’s back to crying, her tears wetting my shirt.
“I don’t know where else I’m supposed to go now.
Isn’t Nevada like a million miles from Texas?
Am I going to have to leave the country now? ”
“Why would you need to leave the country?”
“Because they’ll kill me if I don’t!”
Her words give me pause. I grip her shoulders and pull her back from the embrace until we’re facing each other. “Who is trying to kill you, Iris?” I ask firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument. “Tell me.”
“The cartel,” she whispers, more tears welling.
And so, she tells me all of it. With tears rolling down her cheeks and heartbreak in her voice, she tells me about the murder she witnessed, the case that followed, and how she was forced into witness protection.
“My real name is not even Iris Turner but I don’t want to go back to being Elizabeth and I don’t want a new name.
I don’t want to move to another city but the Víboras Gemelas… ”
“Shh,” I soothe, pulling her head back to my chest and stroking her hair until her sobs subside.
I have to tell the Steel Sinners president, Pope, about all this.
While I have experience dealing with organized crime—I was part of an Italian mob family my entire life before I fucked up and got booted—this here isn’t just my choice to make.
If I am to deal with a kingpin set on coming after Iris, then I’ll have to involve Pope.
The last time I went rogue, I lost my family and burned bridges. I’m not repeating that mistake.
“I’m okay now,” Iris says, pulling back from the embrace, flushing when she notices the tear stain on my shirt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump everything on you. I’ll just leave and…”
“Do you believe that I am going to let you leave this casino after learning all of that?”
“It’s not your problem. I’ll just call my Marshall and…”
“You’re not leaving this casino until this little problem has been taken care of. Let’s get you cleaned up then you’re coming with me.”
“Where?”
I haven’t decided yet, but one thing is for certain, I’m not leaving her side for anything.
She argues.
Well, she tries, but her protests are half-hearted at best. I read the relief in her eyes, the hope that flashes in them when I stay firm in my decision to keep her in the casino.
Her protests are for form’s sake when I guide her out of the bathroom, my hand firm on hers and take her to the bank of elevators.
“I don’t want to trouble anyone,” she whispers when we step in.
“Maybe I’ll lie low in my apartment for a couple of days and they’ll leave me alone. ”
“That’s not a good idea. If they know where you work, they know where you live.”
I stare at the buttons and debate which floor to take her.
I could take her to Pope’s office and arrange accommodations for her.
Hell, there are rooms reserved for guests in the casino, but the thought of leaving Iris to spend the night alone when she’s dealing with the demons of her past doesn’t sit well with me.
After a few seconds of deliberating with myself, I decide my apartment will have to do; it’s where I want her anyway.
Close. Where can I keep my eye on her. It’s not fucking ideal to house the girl when I want her as madly as I do, but I’ll deal with it.
“Ghost—”
I back her to the wall when the doors close, my eyes on hers.
“There is one thing I want you to know, Iris. Men like the ones that are after you do not quit until they’ve had their revenge.
” It’s what I would do if I were after someone I wanted to erase from the face of the earth.
“Chances are, they have been watching you for a while now.”
She gives me a shaky smile. “Well, that doesn’t scare me at all.”
“Hey, they’re not going to get to you now.” I reach out and run a finger over her brows, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear then run the back of my hand over the soft velvet skin of her cheek, making her shiver. “Anyone who comes after you will have to go through me first.”
“Why?”
Because you are mine and I’ll carve into anyone who touches you. Because I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want you and can’t bear the thought of another man hurting you. Because I can relate to being forced into a life you weren’t prepared for and wanting to cling to it.
“Because you’re now the club’s responsibility and a man threatened you on our turf,” I say instead, certain the rest would scare her off. “Anyone who comes to Elysium and makes threats here is begging for trouble with the Sinners.”
“No, I mean, why are you helping me? We’ve never even talked before.”