Chapter 1 #2
Ghost looked back at his bar. All the buildings on the strip of Main Street were historic landmarks, including this one.
It was also one of the few that had an actual parking lot instead of just street parking.
He trusted the prospects to run the bar appropriately; he wouldn’t be leaving them in charge otherwise.
They were present as bartenders, security, and waitstaff in addition to the waitresses and cook also working.
It just felt wrong to leave for a fun run, despite its good cause, when there was so much else that needed to be done.
A hand landed on his shoulder. Turning, he met Carlos’ dark brown eyes that were nearly identical to his brother’s sharp ones.
“Go,” the sheriff encouraged. “Something I struggled to do when I first became sheriff was finding a work-life balance. There’s always something that is left undone.
But being with Zoe and having my boys waiting at home for me, reminds me that I can’t do my job serving this town if I don’t also serve myself.
It’s okay to enjoy life while also shouldering responsibilities. ”
Which was easy for Carlos to say because he had a woman and kids waiting for him at home—unlike Ghost, who was so single that he was going to need to start shaving his palms soon.
Carlos then added a little softer, “And get some fucking sleep. You’re starting to look like a zombie that lost a fight with a whiskey bottle.”
Ghost snorted. Carlos was right. The world wouldn’t implode if Ghost left to have a bit of fun. “Fine,” Ghost mock grumbled. “I’ll go have ‘fun’, but I won’t enjoy myself.”
“That’s the spirit,” Carlos quipped before pulling out a knife to cut the binds off the two brawlers.
The club’s property was packed. It was a good thing there were two entrances, allowing the bikes in from the back to line up all along the roadway that split the property.
Ghost exchanged a chin lift with Grimm, the youngest of the three brothers Keys had recently hired.
Though all were former SEALs like Ghost and Jumper, the club’s secretary, they had no interest in joining the club.
Which was fine. Not every veteran who came to check out the club joined up, but Ghost was glad the three had stuck around the area.
He liked them, especially Thorne, the take-no-shit oldest brother.
The VDMC bikes were up front, facing the gate.
The April night was cool, but not brisk, making it the perfect temperature for a night-time run.
Cruising up to the front of the line, Ghost caught Bear’s eye where he stood off to the side with the other clubs’ road captains.
The slight twitch of the burly man’s lips was the only hint of his annoyance at Ghost’s late arrival.
Ranger walked up to Ghost’s bike as he cut the engine. “Cutting it a bit close?”
“Still not late,” Ghost pointed out.
Ranger was a bit taller than Ghost with slightly wider shoulders.
While both of them were heavily muscled and lean around the waist, Ghost had a more defined jawline, facial hair, and an obsession with tattoos.
His ginger complexion also gave him finer body hair, whereas Ranger’s white-blond hair gave his skin a golden-tan look.
Since the day they met as prospects, they’d been inseparable.
Prior to Ghost being named club enforcer and then voted in as president, the club often teased them about their bromance.
Ghost took it in stride, because frankly, he’d never had a close friendship like the one between him and Ranger.
As a foster kid, Ghost had always been on the outskirts growing up.
When he’d become a SEAL, he’d been part of a team, a single fighting unit, but it hadn’t been until he came to Mount Grove that he’d found his family, his brothers.
Bear’s hog was up front. He was the club’s road captain, and would be leading the poker run.
Tessa, his wife and ol’ lady, stood next to it, already dressed to ride.
She was chatting with Harper, her best friend and Lucky’s ol’ lady.
A tall pole with the VDMC flag was already positioned by Bear’s taillights.
Each road captain would be doing the same with their flags too.
Ghost and Lucky would be riding behind Bear’s bike, and the rest of the club would be following two by two.
Bulldog and his ol’ lady Abby would be riding next to Demo and his ol’ lady Paige.
Normally Jumper would be next to Bulldog, but since his ol’ lady Jasmine was riding her own bike today, he was dual riding with her.
Jasmine, now an experienced rider, had her dad as her backpack for the event.
Jumper’s service dog, Aerial, was riding in her sidecar on Jumper’s bike with her helmet and goggles already on her head.
Ranger would be riding behind them with Cameron, who was not his ol’ lady but had started riding as Ranger’s backpack in the middle of summer last year.
Keys, the club’s tech, was supposed to be riding next to Ranger, but he’d hurt his ankle kickboxing two weeks prior and decided to sit this ride out.
Which placed Grumpy next to Ranger with Scotty, Lucky and Harper’s son, riding as his backpack.
Angel and Cage were next. Though they were married, they rarely rode together so their teenage daughter, Bree, could also ride.
Bree had a special harness to ride that attached her to the person in front of her.
Additionally, Angel had gotten a trike when she’d adopted Bree to help Bree balance when no one was sitting in front of her.
Lila, Bulldog and Abby’s nine year old daughter, was riding behind Cage.
Pumpkin was riding next to Starbucks, who was now technically Pumpkin’s uncle by marriage.
Pumpkin’s daughter, JJ, was the youngest rider at nearly seven and was wearing a harness similar to Bree’s that attached her to her father’s back.
Pumpkin’s wife and ol’ lady, Dosia, was sitting this ride out since she was pregnant.
Again.
The vasectomy Dosia had forced Pumpkin to get two Christmases ago had failed—and the way they’d discovered that little tidbit was when Dosia started to display certain symptoms only eleven weeks after their son, RJ, was born.
Dosia was pissed, and was threatening to put her husband in a chastity cage.
Pumpkin, though, was thrilled, and announced to anyone who would listen that his super sperm was so powerful that not even medical intervention could stop it.
He’d also put a patch on his cut of a sperm tadpole with a Superman cape.
Starbucks and his wife, Calliope, rode next to them, and slightly behind to keep an eye on their great-niece.
Calliope had offered to stay behind with Dosia, who was biologically her niece even though Calliope was two years younger, but Dosia had insisted she go and have fun.
Pirate was directly behind Pumpkin and would also be keeping an eye on JJ.
His wife, Sophia, was not joining the run and was at the diner in town, preparing it for the hoard of hungry bikers that would be stopping on their way to the finish line.
Papaw, the club’s oldest member, was riding alone, as his ol’ lady Louisa, Bulldog and Carlos’ mother, didn’t like motorcycles and never came on runs with them.
He was supposed to be riding next to Scar, but no one had seen the elusive member in a few days.
His wife, Tally, was around, which meant he was too, but no one had seen him.
Scar did this on occasion when the increase of people around got to him.
There was also a good possibility Scar had been planning on skipping the run all along because Tally would also be at the diner with Sophia.
Who knew with Scar. The club didn’t even know when he and Tally had tied the knot.
Just like when they’d gotten engaged, there’d been no big announcement; Tally had just started using the word ‘husband’ in conversation instead of ‘fiancé’ or ‘boyfriend’.
From what Ghost understood from the other ol’ ladies, Tally had randomly called off the wedding and cancelled all the plans one day.
The women were worried something had happened between her and Scar, but clearly they were fine since they still sealed the deal.
The club’s newest members, Boots, Scooby, and Poker, brought up the rear with Jigsaw.
The multitude of toddlers and infants the club had produced over the years was staying behind in the care of Frankie, the club’s nanny, and her two assistants, Terry and Pamela.
For years, Scotty had been the only true ‘club kid’.
Lucky’s daughter, Sissy, had been sixteen at the time the club had been formed.
Steel, the previous president, had two adult children.
Melanie, their teenage daughter who had no interest in motorcycles, hadn’t been active in the club as Scotty had been.
And while Scotty was now eighteen, Lucky and Harper had chosen to keep him at home with them for an additional year following Melanie’s murder, to help him cope.
He would be attending his special needs college program in the fall.