Chapter Nine #2
I nodded miserably. "I’m so sorry. I heard him on the phone tonight.
Talking to someone called about a meeting at 'The Pit' tomorrow.
About merchandise coming in early." I spat the word like it tasted bad.
"We all know what that means." Honey made a small, pained sound.
Her hand found mine, squeezing tight. "He played me from the start," I continued, my voice still shook but steadied as the initial shock of confession wore off.
"He approached me because of who I am. Because of Ghost."
"Why the fuck didn't you go to Ghost with this?" Jack demanded, his voice remained steady and calm but he paced the small living room like a caged tiger, his massive frame seeming too big for the space. "The second you found that patch, you should have brought it straight to him."
"Jack," Honey warned, her arm still around my shoulders.
He turned to her, eyes narrowing. "And you knew about this?" His tone was incredulous as he pointed between us. "You knew she was mixed up with a fucking Copperhead?"
Honey didn't flinch under his gaze. "I promised her three days to figure things out before going to Ghost. To see if she could find out what his angle was."
"Jesus fucking Christ," Jack muttered, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "Three days? You gave her three days to do what? Get herself killed?"
"It wasn't her fault," I cut in, sitting up straighter. "I would have done it with or without her knowing. At least this way someone had my back if things went south."
Jack's massive chest expanded as he took a deep breath, visibly trying to rein in his temper.
When he spoke again, his voice was gentler but no less intense.
"Do you understand what kind of danger you put yourself in, right?
These men aren't just another MC, Wren. These are fuckin' animals.
The shit they do—" He broke off, shaking his head.
"I know what they do," I said quietly. “We all do. And I truly didn’t think Rocky was like that, that he could be a part of something like the Copperheads. Something still doesn’t feel right about the whole situation.” Jack and Honey exchanged a look I couldn't quite interpret.
"That's why I came here first," I continued.
"I knew you'd want to know about the meeting tomorrow.
About the warehouse they're securing for Saturday. "
Jack's eyes sharpened. "What warehouse?"
"I don't know. He didn't say. Just that they needed it secured before the main shipment comes in."
Jack nodded slowly. I could practically see his mind calculating his next move. He sat down on the coffee table in front of me, bringing his massive frame down to my level. His hands dwarfed mine as he took them in his grip.
"Listen to me, Wren," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle coming from such an intimidating man. "I'm not mad at you. Well, I am, but that ain't important right now. What matters is keeping you safe."
Honey's hand stroked my hair, a soothing gesture that reminded me of when I first came to live with Ghost how gentle he’d been with me when I’d been upset. How he was still gentle with me. "We'll figure this out," she said softly. "Together."
Jack squeezed my hands once before releasing them. "I need to make some calls. This information about tomorrow could be the break we need to get rid of the fuckers for good." He stood, towering over us again. "But first, we need to deal with Ghost."
My stomach dropped. "Do we have to tell him tonight?"
"He already knows something's up," Jack said. "Been pacing the compound looking for you."
"Great," I muttered, slumping back against the couch. "So I get to have this conversation twice in one night."
Honey's arm tightened around my shoulders. "You want me to come with you when you talk to him?"
I shook my head. "No. This is my mess. I need to face him alone."
Jack crossed his arms over his massive chest, his expression softening slightly. "He loves you, kid. That's why he'll be pissed. Not because you fucked up, but because you put yourself in danger."
"I know." And I did know. Ghost had taken me in, given me a home, a family, when I had nothing. His protectiveness came from love. But that wouldn't make the disappointment in his eyes any easier to bear.
Jack moved toward the bedroom, presumably to make his calls in private. Before he disappeared through the doorway, he turned back. "For what it's worth, I'm proud of you for coming to us with this. Takes guts to admit when you've been played."
His words, gruff but sincere, brought fresh tears to my eyes. I wiped them away quickly. I'd cried enough tonight.
Honey squeezed my shoulders. "You gonna be okay?"
I nodded, though I wasn't entirely sure. "Eventually."
"Want me to walk you home?"
"No." I stood, steadier now than when I'd arrived. "I need to do this part alone."
She stood too, pulling me into a tight hug. "Remember you're not alone in this, okay? No matter what happens next."
I hugged her back, drawing strength from her steady presence. "Thanks for not saying 'I told you so.'"
She laughed softly. "Oh, I'm saving that for when you're feeling better and everything’s fixed. Along with a whole lecture about listening to your best friend's advice."
Despite everything, I found myself smiling. "Looking forward to it."
I walked for a while. Just ambled around the compound, thinking.
Not about what I needed to say to Ghost, though.
He’d get the truth no matter what. I just needed to process my feelings for Rocky.
Because, I knew Ghost would demand to know how I felt about the guy.
Despite hearing the damning conversation myself, I couldn’t say I hated Rocky.
Like I told Jack, something didn’t feel right to me.
Maybe I didn’t want to believe I could have been so horribly wrong about someone.
But I couldn’t reconcile the man who’d touched me so reverently with a man who could traffic women and girls.
Once I gave myself a good talking to for being a coward, I climbed the stairs to the apartment I shared with Ghost with leaden feet.
Part of me hoped Ghost had given up waiting and gone to bed.
Fat chance of that, but a girl could hope.
As I pushed open the door, darkness greeted me, broken only by a sliver of moonlight cutting through the blinds.
It illuminated a tall figure by the window, arms crossed over his chest. Ghost stood motionless, his silver-streaked hair catching the dim light, his face in shadow.
I'd known he'd be here. Still, my heart sank.
"Where have you been?" His voice cut through the darkness, deceptively calm. I knew that tone. The quieter Ghost spoke, the angrier he was.
I flipped on the light switch, flooding the small living room with the overhead light. Ghost didn't flinch, didn't blink. Just watched me with those steel-gray eyes that never missed a thing.
"Out," I replied, tossing my keys onto the counter where they skittered across the surface. My hands still shook. I hoped he wouldn't notice.
He noticed. Ghost always noticed. His gaze flicked to my hands, then back to my face. "Out where?"
I shrugged off my jacket, buying time. My movements felt mechanical, disconnected from the storm still raging inside me. "Just riding. Needed to clear my head."
"For four hours? With your phone turned off?" He uncrossed his arms, took a step toward me. "Try again, Wren."
Unlike Bloody Jack, Ghost didn't need size to intimidate.
His presence alone filled the space, made the air feel thinner somehow.
"What happened with the Copperhead?" he asked, his voice dropping even lower.
I froze. My mind raced through possibilities.
Jack couldn't have called him already. He knew I wanted to be the one to tell Ghost. "Don't lie to me either, Wren. "
I lifted my chin, forced myself to meet his gaze.
I hadn’t wanted to sound defensive or even try to justify my actions, but I also hadn’t expected Ghost to confront me first. Sometimes with Ghost, my default was to be on the defensive.
I didn’t want to be, but I seemed to always let him down about something.
Not intentionally, but I tended to be a bit…
impulsive. On occasion. "I didn't tell him anything about the club, Ghost. I'm not stupid. "
Ghost's jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. "That's not what I asked."
"That's all you need to know."
"The hell it is." He ran a hand through his hair, a rare display of frustration breaking through his usual control. "You think I don't know you've been seeing him? That I don't have brothers keeping eyes on you?"
The revelation shouldn't have surprised me, but it stung anyway. "So you've been spying on me?"
"Protecting you," he corrected. "And a good thing I was. Do you have any idea what the Copperheads would do if they thought you had information they wanted? What they'd do to you?"
I crossed my arms over my chest, mirroring his stance. "Nothing happened," I repeated. "I didn't compromise the club."
"Fuck the club," Ghost snapped, his voice rising for the first time. "I'm talking about you, Wren! You! You think I give a shit about club secrets when your life could be in danger?"
The raw concern in his voice caught me off guard. I dropped my gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. Tears pooled in my eyes then fell as I tried to blink them back. "I cut it off," I said quietly. "Tonight. Found out who he really was."
Ghost was silent for a moment, digesting this. "How?"
I shook my head, pressing my lips together.
"Wren—"
"It's over. Done. I'm not seeing him again."