Chapter 17
GHOSTING THROUGH THE TRUTH
VIKING
The office we’re supposed to avoid looms out of the windshield.
I should have asked him to meet me at the clubhouse, keep his anonymity safe, but the guys don’t know what’s going on with me.
With the Covington chapter headed this way next week, I need their focus on that, and not my life crumbling at the seams.
Sun-bleached brick blends into the miscellany of businesses on this offshoot of Main Street.
Ghost’s pride shines through in the polished tinted windows and gleaming brass plate beside the door.
It reads “Attorney At Law”, like the man inside spends his life arguing over contracts instead of riding a Harley with a cut folded in the back of his closet. He’s a man of many secrets.
People stroll by, popping in and out of the shops that keep our little town from feeling like it’s completely lost to the times.
We have everything those enjoying a slower, simpler life could need and nothing those from the big cities seek out, keeping us off the beaten path and stuck—happily—in our way of life.
Happy. That feeling’s a distant memory of late. Josie still wasn’t back by the time I left this morning, wanting to get this handled, to maybe find some solid ground before she walks back in the door and shakes things up again.
Funny how something as simple as a kid can make the world feel like it’s suddenly balanced on the tip of a needle.
I didn’t feel that when Haley was born. When the doctor handed her to me, all pink and pissed at the world, something clicked into place.
I knew I’d have her back until my last breath left my body.
That I’d do everything and anything in my power to make sure that little girl never wanted for anything.
Yet, here comes Trenton, my firstborn, who got none of that because I wasn’t there to offer.
It kills me every time I think about it.
So I don’t, shoving it away and stepping out of my truck.
A young woman startles as I push the front door open, even tucked behind the protection of a thick wooden desk, she eyes me cautiously.
The office smells of coffee and one of those air fresheners Josie’s always complaining about, the kind that gives people headaches without them realizing it.
Soft waiting room music fills the space, and it makes me want to bark out with laughter at how different this is from the man I know.
She straightens, standing, finally switching into business mode. “Good morning, Mr. Nevett has a meeting this morning. Can I help you with something?” she asks, reaching for a small pad of paper and a pen.
The man in question comes around the corner, a steaming mug of coffee clutched in one hand, the other full of papers he’s looking over, not paying attention to his surroundings, until he hears her voice.
“Ahh, Vik, there you are. Please hold my calls, Valerie. I’ll be in my office.”
His eyes soften as he asks Valerie the question, and my interest piques. The girl’s got to be twenty years younger than him, but I know that look. It’s full of adoration.
He turns to me, nodding toward an open office door. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
Shutting the door behind me, I drop into one of the clean leather office chairs across from his desk. “No, I’m good. But what’s going on there?” I tilt my head toward the girl on the other side of the door.
Ghost laughs and shakes his head. “That’s my daughter, you fucking prick.”
Daughter, since when does he have a fucking daughter?
I want to ask the questions piling up in my head, but Ghost leans back in his chair.
His sleeves are rolled halfway up his forearms, tattoos peeking out just enough to remind anyone who knows him that the law isn’t the only code he follows.
I know our club emblem’s hidden under the pocket of his suit jacket, which currently has a handkerchief tucked into it.
His dark hair’s pulled back in a low tie, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, while he looks over a stack of papers before tucking them away into a file folder.
Finally looking up, he takes me in before saying, “You look like shit.”
“Been a long week.”
“No doubt. A kid knocking on the club door will have that effect. Thank god y’all we’re out of town, and Josie intercepted him. I’m sure you’d never hear the end of it if it’d been one of the guys.”
I think I’d have rather dealt with the shit comments from my brothers than the mess Josie finding out first caused my marriage.
“So,” he says. “Kid’s yours.”
It’s not a question, but I didn’t leave that impression on my voicemail.
I nod once. “Name’s Trenton.”
His brow quirks, immediately putting two and two together. “How old?”
“I think fourteen, based on when Miranda last came around.”
Ghost whistles quietly. “Fourteen years is a hell of a long time to not know your old man.”
“Fourteen years without her actually doing something motherly and telling me.”
His eyes sharpen slightly at that. “And you’re certain he’s yours?”
The question doesn’t piss me off the way it might from anyone else, another reason I haven’t brought it up to even Silas.
Though with Josie running off to Lexi’s and Harlow no doubt looped in, I wouldn’t be surprised if he and Pierce know something’s going on.
But Ghost isn’t asking to start shit. He’s asking because it matters legally, and that’s why I’m here.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m certain. It’s like looking in the mirror. You’ll see when he comes around the club eventually.”
Ghost leans back in his chair again, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. “Legally speaking,” he says slowly, “certainty and proof are two very different animals.”
I figured he’d say that. Who knows, maybe Miranda had a type. Then again, Stitch and I were night and day when it came to looks.
“Walk me through it?” I ask him.
Ghost nods once, slipping into lawyer mode. “First thing we do is establish paternity. That means a test conducted by a court-recognized lab with a documented chain of custody. Closest one’s probably in Longview.”
I cross my arms. “You saying they won’t just believe me? Who’s trying to claim a kid that’s not theirs when nothing is in it for them?”
“I’m saying if we skip that step, anyone who feels like causing problems later could contest custody.
You mentioned something about a grandmother.
Doesn’t sound like she’ll be a problem, but why leave the door open?
” He tilts his head slightly. “And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather make sure nobody can walk in two years from now claiming that kid belongs somewhere else. ”
He’s right, it’ll be a pain running out that far from town, but the sooner we get this taken care of, the better. I don’t need it hanging over my head when my focus should be on the upcoming swap with Steel and mending my fragile marriage.
“What about his mom?” he asks.
“He said she’s dead. That’s why he’s out here.”
“Dead simplifies things,” Ghost says bluntly. “Legally, anyway. Did you confirm? Look for her death certificate online?”
Fuck, I didn’t even think to do that. What if he’s been lying this entire time, and he’s just run away because they got into a fight?
My stomach bottoms out at the thought of her showing up looking for him.
I think that’d be the last straw for Josie.
A kid is one thing, a scorned ex-lover and co-parent is likely to make her murderous, and I’m not sure which of us she’d set in her sights.
I shake my head, realizing what an idiot I’ve been in all this.
“That’s okay.” He swivels in his desk chair, typing and scrolling away on his computer.
The silence is deafening as I wait for the other shoe to drop. I came in here looking for solutions, not more ammunition for the fight.
“You said he came from Austin?”
“Yeah, that’s where he said they were last.”
It’s another couple of minutes before Ghost stabs a key and the printer behind him whirs to life. He spins triumphantly and slaps the still-warm paper on the desk between us.
“Miranda Cotts. Died October fifteenth in Austin, Texas. Cause of death, OD.”
“Fuck.” I whisper. “He told me she had a drinking problem, but didn’t mention drugs.”
Every new piece of information that lands in my lap about Miranda makes me want to throttle the dead woman.
“And you’re sure there’s no other family besides the grandmother?” he asks.
“None, Trenton made that clear.”
Ghost nods, making another note in the file he’s starting.
“Then here’s the path forward. Step one: paternity test. I’ll set that up quietly and send you the address. You’ll both need to go. I won’t file with the court until we get the results.”
I nod, trusting his judgment because I’d be lost or wrung dry seeking counsel elsewhere.
“Step two: once we have confirmation, we move to establish legal paternity and custody.”
“How long is that going to take?”
Ghost gives me a thin smile. “Normally, a couple of months. You’ll have to go through the county system, which is lucky for you. If we had our own here in town, they might know a little too much about the club and hesitate on granting custody even with proven paternity.”
I raise a brow. “They can do that?”
He waves me off like he’s not worried about it, then taps the pen against the paper. “Fortunately for you, I’m very good at navigating gray areas.”
That’s an understatement. Ghost might wear suits during the day, but he earned his road name the same way the rest of us did.
“But until everything’s finalized, the kid still needs documents.”
“Like what?” The only things that come to mind are a birth certificate and a Social Security card. I figured that with the information I have, Ghost can do his magic and get us copies.
“Everything. School records, medical forms, identification paperwork.”
I stare at him. That’s way more than I’d have ever thought about. Medical forms didn’t cross my mind.
“You’re telling me we need all of that just to have him sleeping under my roof?”
“Welcome to the modern world of having a minor with a woman who hid his existence until she couldn’t help. Ask Josie, I bet she knows where every single one of those documents is for Haley,” Ghost says dryly.
That doesn’t make me feel any less like a piece of shit. I should know all of this. I have a kid that I’ve been there for since she was a second pink line on a test. What a fucking joke of a father I am.
He leans forward, lowering his voice slightly.“ Now here’s the part where things get… creative.”
That word usually means the law’s about to bend a little.
“I’ll draft temporary guardianship paperwork,” he says. “Technically legitimate, though the filing date might not line up perfectly with reality.”
Meaning it’ll look like Trenton’s been under my care longer than he actually has.
“And the rest?” I ask.
Ghost shrugs.
“School enrollment forms will show you as his legal guardian. Medical authorization will allow you to sign for treatment. Identification paperwork will follow the same trail.”
“Anyone checks it?”
“They’ll see exactly what they expect to see.”
Ghost sets the pen down.
“By the time the courts get around to reviewing anything official, the kid will already be established as living with you.”
“Which makes it harder to challenge.”
“Exactly.”
I sit there for a second, letting that sink in.
“So he can start school?”
Ghost nods.
“Good.”
That’s good. The last thing I want for him after the shit life he’s had is to drop out at fourteen.
The club might be my life, but he wasn’t raised that way, shit, even Haley, who’s been around it since the day she was born, won’t get the option to lie around Rosenfeld, working at one of our fronts.
I want more for her, more for both of them.