Chapter 12 Ghost
GHOST
The tracks are easy to follow. This Ledger kid clearly has no clue how to cover where he was headed.
There are broken branches, snapped twigs, and clear footprints on some of the muddier ground.
He circled around a fair bit before he finally returned to his vehicle.
Then, once he was driving, the tire tracks out of the woods don’t follow the same path as those in.
I stare off into the distance and sigh. My bike isn’t far back in the woods, so I can jog back to it and follow the tire tracks. I’d dismounted when I wanted to follow the trail I’d picked up.
This little fucker needs to be caught. He tried to push a girl into having sex and, when she refused, he fucking shot at her. That’s not right at all in my books, and I’d like to give the motherfucker a taste of his own medicine.
I’m wearing camo trousers, instead of my usual jeans, and a dark olive t-shirt, along with boots.
It’s easier to run like this, without anything heavy on my back, than in my military days.
I used to jog for hours then, carrying huge amounts of weight.
Sometimes, depending on how deep we were embedded in enemy territory, we’d have to trek for days and sleep wherever we could.
My time in the military has given me the superpower of being able to fall asleep anywhere. Unfortunately, it’s also given me the fucking trauma response that means I wake up far too easily, and my sleep is shitty and nightmare-filled even all these years later.
Reaching my bike, I climb on and push the kickstand back before I roar out of the copse of trees and drive back to the place where the tire tracks begin. Once I reach them, I follow them carefully, leaning over the edge of the bike to observe which way they go.
It leads me to a part of the woods where the trees thin, before breaking wide open to reveal a double lane road.
This is the kind of country road that, despite being well maintained, causes people to have accidents.
Although it looks like easy driving, it contains lots of corners, switchbacks, and hairpin bends.
It’s the kind of road I love to ride on, but today, there’s no sign of which way the vehicle I’m tracking went.
I imagine plenty of other vehicles have passed since that prick turned onto this section of asphalt, and the sun will have dried any marks left from wet tires.
Jack doesn’t think Ledger is back at the college because the dean says so, but what would have stopped Ledger from heading straight back there and sneaking in before news of what happened reached Dean Rossi?
If the college wasn’t on high alert, how easy would it be to breach the boundary? Very easy is my guess.
When we’d attended Vani’s party, I’d looked around at the college grounds. They were well guarded. Men with weapons, cameras, drones, and security lighting abounded. But those grounds were massive, and it’s difficult to keep every single inch of a large perimeter tight and secure.
If he hasn’t headed back to the college to hide out and wait, where could he have gone?
I don’t buy that he shot at Camile because she wouldn’t fuck him.
Not because I can’t imagine a man doing that; sadly, I can.
Images flash into my mind of women mutilated and raped during war, and I blink twice to get rid of them.
Men do awful things all the damn time. It just seems really fucking stupid to shoot at a fellow student when you’re a new kid wanting to do well at the prestigious, secretive college… unless that’s not what you are at all.
Unless… the reason you’re there is precisely to get the girl.
Engine revving, I look up and down the length of road, then spin the bike around.
I can head back to the compound this way.
Once there, I’ll find one of the gang, Cryptic, so called because he’s obsessed with those weird crosswords where the clues make no sense, and ask him to help me hack into any nearby cameras.
The bike’s tires eat this stretch of road. I look up at the lights by the side and am relieved to see the occasional camera. So at least we know this patch of road has them.
I decide to take the scenic route back. I turn off the road by the southwest side of the compound and drive up a small, gravel path to where a tall, heavy gate is locked by a padlock.
I park the bike and stride to the gate, where I put in the combination to open the padlock.
I walk my bike through then close the gate and reattach the heavy lock.
The winking light of the cameras mounted on the gate catch my eye, and I flip the bird at them and chuckle to myself.
A couple of guys monitor the security system at a time, and most of us have to take the odd turn.
There’s a room with a huge bank of monitors, and we can easily switch between cameras at any point to see what we want to.
All recordings are kept for a few days before being wiped to make room for new ones.
It means we can always go back and review the footage if needed.
Back on my bike, I drive over the grass and head toward the brow of the hill. As I veer around a group of thick, low hedges and a few tall, willowy trees, I slow and stop the bike. Over to my right, about one hundred yards away, is what looks like Camile and Rook, and a group of other guys.
I squint, trying to make out what it is I’m seeing.
One of the guys pushes Rook, and he staggers back. Camile’s high-pitched, alarmed shout tells me all I need to know.
Gunning my engine, I roar over the crest of the hill and ride fast to where they are.
As I come to a stop a good few feet away, skidding slightly to one side, I realize it’s Eddy, Duke, and Paulie. Three fucking idiots we call the Numbnuts. I think they’re cousins, and they’re probably the kind who marry too closely in their family.
Camile is shouting at one of them, and he’s laughing as he makes a grab for her.
“Get the fuck off her,” Rook shouts.
My feet pound the ground toward them. I take it all in, and fury fills my veins.
Eddy has Camile in a hold, his hands around her waist, as he half lifts her off the ground. He puts her feet back down, but only because he’s realized someone else has joined the fray. He whips his head around, sees me, and pauses.
“Ghost. What’s up?”
“Let her go.” My voice is calm. Deceptively so.
“Sure.” He obeys immediately.
“We were only winding Rook up.” Duke sticks his tongue out at Rook. “You got your panties in a real wad, Rookie.”
“Yeah, were you jealous?” Paulie asks Rook. “Wish it was you we’d got our hands on? I hear you like that.”
I have no fucking clue what he’s alluding to but guess it’s something to do with the hazing ceremony Rook had to take part in before we’d allow him to become a prospect.
That shit holds no interest for me. I can’t stand it.
It’s far too close to bullying, and honestly, I find it kind of pathetic.
But it’s tradition and some argue it lets you know who the real ones are.
The ones who will do anything for their brothers and the club.
“Which one of you fucking knuckleheads thought it would be a good idea to put hands on the woman who is here under Jack’s protection?” I cross my arms over my chest and stare at all three in turn.
“It wasn’t like that,” Duke protests.
“It was exactly like that from where I’m standing.”
“Listen—” Paulie starts.
“No. Shut the fuck up. Go right back to the clubhouse now. Get some coffee down your necks. You stink of booze, and I’m hoping it’s from last night, not this morning. Then go wait in the back office.”
“You’re not the Prez.” Duke sets his jaw at me, and I clench and flex my fingers, weighing up punching his lights out.
There’s a lady present, though, so I restrain myself.
“I’m his Sergeant at Arms, so I’m the one responsible for enforcing rules and punishing those who break them. Unless you want me to break your fucking face, piss off right now.”
The men do as I say, mumbling and muttering as they go. They get onto their bikes and drive off, and the rumbling of their engines recedes like a storm drifting away.
Turning to Rook, I shake my head. “What the fuck are you doing way out here?”
“I thought it would be nice to bring Camile to see the view.” He rubs his mouth nervously. “Jack… I mean the Prez… asked me to mind Camile. To watch over her.”
Why the hell is Jack giving a newbie like Rook such a job? It hits me then that he most definitely wouldn’t have meant for Rook to take her on a ride, even within the compound. Rook doesn’t have the respect of all the men yet, and he can’t keep Camile safe alone.
“You should have stayed within reach of the clubhouse.” I smack him up the back of the head, and he lets out a soft grunt of surprise.
“You’re in the shit.” I frown. “I’ll take the girl back. You just get yourself and your bike returned and prepare to face Jack’s wrath.”
Camile faces me, her dark hair swinging. She folds her arms across her chest, and I try not to glance down at the way the stance pushes her tits up in that low-cut top.
“Do you have to tell Jack? Rook was kind and took me for a ride because I was down. He shouldn’t get punished for that.”
“Mind your own damned business,” I snap at her. “You have no clue how this place works.”
She bites her lip, and I think she’s going to argue back, but then she runs over to Rook, who is climbing onto his bike. Once he’s got his feet planted on either side, she gives him a quick hug.
“Thank you for bringing me out here, Rook. It helped.”
He flushes red and nods at her once before shooting me a nervous glance.
Yeah, she made her point by ignoring me and running to Rook, and I’m not sure I like it.
“Toss me her helmet,” I demand.
He does so and shakes his head before putting the bike in gear and riding away.
I keep my voice level. “You’ve probably just gotten him into a whole world of trouble.”
“Me?” Camile turns those gorgeous dark eyes my way and narrows them. “How do you figure that?”
“You seem to have half the men in this club wrapped around your finger.”
She can’t hide the fast smile that lights her face at my words. The damned brat, she likes it. A part of her gets off causing shit.
I stalk to her and grab her chin. Tilting her face so she’s looking right at me, I stare into her eyes. “Stop being so goddamned bratty.”
Her eyes widen and her lashes fan above her cheek as she blinks rapidly.
“I’m not,” she protests.
“Yeah, you are, and it’s not cute. You need to understand that for girls like you, the world isn’t safe. Not at all.”
She jerks her chin from my hold. “Oh, I understand that only too well. I have for a very long time. Can you take me back now, please?”
She asks it so politely, but there’s something about her air, as if she’s a queen and I’m her servant. It should piss me off even more, but I kind of like it. She’ll need that hidden, defiant part of her to get through what’s surely coming her way.
I sigh and scrub my hand over my jaw. “Put the helmet on and get on behind me.”
People being near me is not something I like, but when she climbs behind me and wraps her arms around my waist, it warms something inside me.
Not needing the distraction, I stamp that flame down and gun the engine.