Chapter Eight
Ghost
We don’t take our motorcycles. Can’t risk the noise when we’re heading toward uncharted territory and the sound would no doubt ruin the element of surprise.
And we need to ambush the bastards and get them all.
Besides, if the fuckers hurt one strand of hair on Iris’s head, I’ll need a body to take my frustration out on!
It became clear to us earlier that the US Marshall wasn’t taking Iris to witness protection when he started driving away from the city. There is nothing in the desert but open fields for potential ambush, which could only mean that he was in on it too.
The fucker is dead if the fucking cartel doesn’t kill him first. Anyone who trusts a group like that has to be a fucking idiot.
“We’ll have to walk from here,” Pope says when the car stops.
We all climb out and one of the men hands us each night vision goggles and handheld flood lights that Priest brought along with him, in case we need to light up the area.
Integrated in our group are people with military backgrounds and others like me who left the mafia for whatever reason.
And now the Víboras Gemelas just had to drag us back into the darkness.
We let Priest lead the charge since his club has more experience in such missions.
His club, the Steel Order, has made it its lifelong mission to eliminate human traffickers in Texas.
Hell, that’s how he met his wife—by saving her from the traffickers, but he didn’t stop at just her.
The man dedicated time, manpower and millions into saving others as well so I trust him to get me to Iris.
Please be safe.
Christ, I haven’t prayed since I was a boy and my parents forced us to attend mass. But I close my eyes for a moment and pray that someone is listening and keeps my careless little bartender safe wherever she is and if he does, then I will never let her go. Never again!
“Let’s head out, every minute counts!”
Priest directs us across the shrubs and the sand, up the rocky terrain.
Some men hang back so they can drive to us when given the signal.
No one says a word as we approach quietly on foot.
Priest guides us into surrounding the area, gesturing with his hands where he needs everyone to be and I would be impressed how seamless it all is if my fucking heart wasn’t in my throat.
We surround the men and the first thing I see is the man lying on the ground and then Iris.
She’s on her knees, eyes wide and terrified of the man crouched in front of her, holding a gun.
She’s scared but Christ above, she’s alive.
She’s alive!
At Priest’s signal, we all remove our night goggles, point the gun at the circle and turn on the flood lights, blinding the cartel.
“Drop your fucking weapons!” Priest roars, and more than one man turns toward the sound with his gun which earns him a gunshot to the knee and the other to the hand.
Both drop with pained cries and the others, seeing the fate awaiting them, slowly lower their guns to the ground.
Except him. The man crouched in front of Iris. The ambush surprises him, giving him pause but he recovers and I see the thought before he can execute it. From the way he turns back to Iris, jaw clenched and murder written on his face.
He’s dead before he can raise that arm.
I keep my gun trained on him as I rush forward, moving to make sure he is indeed dead before turning to Iris and shielding her from what’s happening.
The MC men move in and zip tie the cartel’s men.
Some try to run away even with their arms zip-tied and are killed on the spot.
Gunshots ring in the dark until all the men are either captured or lying dead on the desert floor.
Once I’m certain that everyone has been taken care of, I put my gun away and turn to Iris, scooping her into my arms without a word.
I push her face to my chest as I inspect the damage.
It’s going to be a mess to clean up and a pain in the ass to explain how the fuck a US Marshall ended up dead in the desert.
“Go,” Pope says, clapping my shoulder. “Take her home. We’ll handle everything else from here.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, uncertain of how the fuck I am going to repay these men for what they did here tonight. Risking their lives for mine.
“Don’t,” Pope warns. “You risked your life for my wife and almost died doing so. We’re family and we protect each other.” I question if the man can somehow read my mind. Fuck, I’ve always been told that I have a great poker face. “Just go and take care of your girl. We’ll deal with this.”
“Thank you,” I say again, turning when we spot our cars driving up.
With another nod at Pope, I approach one and get the keys from the driver.
I settle Iris in the passenger’s seat, pausing to inspect her injuries.
Neither of us says a word as I take in her state.
Mussed-up hair, a scratch on her cheek and a few cuts on her left hand from what I imagine was a fall.
Nothing too concerning. All her clothes are intact, dirty, but otherwise untouched.
I help her secure the seatbelt then walk to the driver’s side.
It’s an hour’s ride back to the casino. One spent in silence.
There are so many unsaid words between us—and a little bit of resentment on my part that I can’t completely shake off. I hate that she didn’t trust me to protect her after all the assurance I gave her. That she could so fucking easily leave me nicks at my mind and I can’t bear it.
The ride up to my apartment is yet again spent in silence.
And it lingers even when I let us in. She doesn’t say a word as I take her to the bathroom, stripping her of everything to make sure there aren’t injuries I missed.
She’s clean other than the superficial cuts and scratches.
I clean those and bandage them before nudging her into the warm, running shower.
I should give her space. Maybe give her—and myself—a moment to cool down a bit but…fuck that!
I strip out of my clothes and step into the shower with her, intent on just getting her clean but then comes a fresh wave of rage and betrayal.
If she didn’t love me and want me as much as I do her, I would let her be.
Force myself to understand that she needed to leave.
But she wants me, loves me too, according to that damned letter.
So no, I am not exactly understanding of her self-sacrifice.
“Ghost—”
I spin her around to face the glass door before she says another word, pressing her breasts into it as I crowd her from behind.
There is so much rage boiling under my skin, a need to punish her for leaving and putting her life in danger.
She could have died. If we were ten, hell, even five minutes late, she could have been killed!
Fuck, I can’t stand that thought.
“You said you trusted me,” I grind into her neck as we scratch the base of my rage.
I slide my wet hand down her hip, squeezing her skin as if to assure myself that she’s indeed here and this is not a dream.
“I thought we agreed that I would protect you.” My voice is heavy, hands possessive as they caress her inner thigh and move between her legs, cupping her pussy as I slide my middle finger between her folds, making her whimper.
“Do you have any idea how panicked I was, following that stupid red dot to your location?” I stroke her clit, feeling her sex grow slick before plunging my finger into her.
I bite down a groan when she clenches around my digit but goddamnit, I’m not ready to forgive her actions tonight.
Not yet. With my finger still inside her, I rotate us so her front is pressed against the shower wall, dripping in the warm water and starting to soak my ever-deeper hand.
“Ghost!”
“They had you!” I grind, brushing my nose against her ear and seeking her scent. Sniffing her like a hound marking her scent, “And that incredibly foolish letter, did you think I would find it then go back to sleep?”
“No… Oh God,” she cries out as I move my finger in quick circles, thrusting it in and out of her pussy in fast punishing strokes. I slide my free hand up her chest and grope her breasts, taking her nipples between my fingers and tugging hard before brushing my thumb to soothe the sting.
Someone almost stole her away from me tonight. And she let them.
I pull my fingers out of her, making her whine in disappointment but I’m already replacing them with my cock.
The letter is fresh in my mind as I spread her thighs further and slam my cock into her.
She cries out, hands sliding up the wall as I start stroking into her in deep, rough thrusts meant to claim. To possess. To punish!
“I would have found you,” I rasp into her nape, biting her lobe.
“If you hadn’t been betrayed by that agent and instead sent into a whole other location, I would have combed this fucking world until I dug up where they holed you in.
” I squeeze her left breasts, stroking her clit with my free hand as I hammer into her like a madman.
“I wouldn’t have let you go. I don’t care how long it would have taken to find you. ”
“Oh God!” she sobs, legs trembling as I rock faster and harder into her. “Ghost…oh…God!”
“You’re mine!” I growl, driving hard into her and pushing her against the marble. “You belong to me, gioia mia. Only me. And it’s my fucking job to take care of you. I’ll be damned if anyone takes you!”
“Yours,” she sobs, slapping at the wall as she orgasms, her sex clenching hard around me before releasing in violent shakes that seem to rob her of her ability to stand.
Her knees buckle as the rest of her spasms beautifully.
I hold her up as I drive into her, faster and harder, seeking my own release and when it comes, it roars through me with enough violence to leave my legs just as shaky as hers.
“Fuuck!” I bellow into her nape as waves and waves of pleasure roll through me.
My cock jerks inside of her as I spill my seed into her womb, filling her with spurt after spurt of my cum.
I stroke into her through the climax, sending her into yet another orgasm that threatens to send us both to the floor.
Somehow, I manage to hold us both up through it.
We’re both yet to recover when Iris turns around to look at me and under the fog of steam, I see her eyes wet with tears.
For one horrifying moment, I am terrified that I was perhaps a little too rough on her but then she flings her arms around my waist and buries her face against my chest. “I’m sorry,” she sobs, a sound so gut-wrenching that I feel my heart break.
“I’m so freaking sorry. I wasn’t thinking, and when Henry said the Víboras Gemelas would kill you if I didn’t leave, I was scared.
I love you so much and I just…I…couldn’t stand… I…”
I wrap my arms around her even as I feel the anger wash away. “You scared me,” I confess, leaning down to brush my lips over the top of her head. “I love you, Iris. I would have stood between you and a bullet. It’s my job to protect you. Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again.”
“I won’t, I promise,” she sniffs into my chest.
“Okay, I believe you,” I rasp, tightening my hold on her. “There now, we’re okay. You’re okay.”
“Don’t stay mad at me.”
“I’m not,” I assure her, pulling back from the embrace to brush my lips over hers. It’s gentle and soothing, meant to comfort. “Not anymore at least.”
“You promise.”
“I promise,” I say, squeezing soap into my palm and lathering her hair, wanting to clean her as much as I want to smell my soap on her.
She holds on to me as I do all the work.
I dry her off then carry her to bed where she immediately turns to me, her lips seeking mine in the dark.
I touch her. Everywhere. My caress is gentle as is our lovemaking.
It’s slow and sweet. Vows are made without words, promises reaffirmed and when she finally falls asleep in my arms, I feel the world righted again.
I press my lips to Iris’s temple, breathing my soap on her skin and feeling the feral need to protect her. The man who left New York was reckless and dangerous because he had nothing to lose. The man who’s settling in Las Vegas is even more dangerous because now, I have everything to lose.