Chapter 8
GHOST
I always thought I didn’t deserve her, but now I know that for sure.
She’s way too sweet and pure for me. I should let her go and find a different kind of man, one who doesn’t have blood on his hands and doesn’t like the sight of it.
But because I’m not a good man, I’m too selfish to let her be with anyone else. I’ve been letting her push me away, back to watching her from a distance, but now I’m done with that.
Being patient isn’t getting me anywhere, especially now that I know she’s actively trying to forget me. She might be sweet as sugar, but she has a fiery backbone that I enjoy seeing come out.
I’ve been getting a few jobs done on the side without having to explain my whereabouts to her, both for the club and other contracts, which I know will eventually change.
I never want her to know what I do.
I’ve warned everyone in the club that if they open their mouths to her or any of the women who I know will fucking tell her, I will kill them.
Before the Daisy incident happened, I loved the way Xanthe looked at me, and I want that back.
I need that back. But she’ll never look at me the same if she knows what I do for the club.
I only want her to think I’m the road captain, and that’s it.
I want her to think I’m worthy of her, even if it’s not the case.
As soon as I get back to the clubhouse, I sit at the bar and open my phone to see what she’s doing, smiling when she’s sitting on her couch and cuddling with her tabby cat.
That’s another thing I never want her to find out—the surveillance in her house.
I’ve let her see me around in person so she knows I still fucking want her, but I don’t think she’d be so agreeable to know about the cameras in her home.
It’s not like they are in her bedroom or anything, though.
I’ve got one at the front door, one at the back, and one that can see into the kitchen and dining area.
Lore looks over my shoulder, his eyebrows rising. “I don’t even fucking want to know, brother.”
“You say anything in your Baddies group chat and no one will find your body,” I remind him casually. He’s the only man in the women’s group chat, and I don’t love that he talks to Xanthe more than she’s been talking to me. In fact, it makes me want to go a few rounds with him in the ring.
He sits on the stool next to me with his standard smirk on his face. Everything comes easily to Lore. He’s the opposite of me, being social, easygoing, and too fucking charming for his own good.
“You know I don’t give away a brother’s secrets,” he says, rapping his knuckles on the bar. Brandy leaves the pool table where she’s playing with Romeo and comes to get us a beer.
She gives Lore a flirty look before turning her eyes to me. After what Daisy told me about her, I’ve been ignoring her, not giving her any of the attention she so desperately craves.
“Thanks, Brandy.” Lore grins, taking a sip of his beer, then looks toward me. “So you going to lock down shit with Xanthe or what?”
Brandy’s smile drops, but she doesn’t say anything. She just goes back to the pool table.
“I’ve already claimed her at the table. No one can touch her,” I remind him, narrowing my eyes. “Has anyone touched her?”
“No, but I know she has a date tomorrow night,” he casually adds, like he’s talking about the weather and not my fucking woman being out with another man.
“They were discussing what she is going to wear…” He pauses, just to be dramatic.
“They decided on a little black dress. Apparently, it shows a lot of thigh.”
My hands clench. I’m contemplating dragging him by his man bun when he keeps speaking.
“Why haven’t you told her that you only went with Daisy because you were doing a favor for Haze?”
“She’s not going to give a fuck why I was up there with another woman, just that I was,” I reply, stretching my neck from side to side in agitation. “It doesn’t matter. She’s not going on any fucking dates.”
“What are you going to do?” he asks, brow furrowing. “She’s a sweet girl, Ghost. You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I rasp. “I’m too far gone now… she’s mine.”
He curses under his breath. “All right. I know where you can find the fucker. But, Ghost?”
“What?”
“Don’t kill him.
With my forearm against the suit-wearing accountant’s throat, I ask, “So what are you going to do?”
“Cancel the date,” he manages to croak.
“You’re not going to look at her or speak to her ever again, are you?”
He shakes his head.
This man is the opposite of me. Blond, no ink, and a lot leaner than me. He’s wearing a gray suit, and his hair is slicked back like he spent an hour in the morning getting it just perfect.
She tried to go on a date with someone as different from me as physically possible.
I let go of him, and he falls to the ground, his back to the wall just outside his office. “Message her now and cancel.” I pause, and then add, “Tell her it had nothing to do with her, she’s beautiful, but you have to go out of town.”
“Okay. I didn’t know she was taken.”
“Well, now you know.”
I get back on my motorcycle and go for a long ride.