Chapter 11
Asingle message from Ghost kept the VDMC away from the house, but Becks knew the morning would be very different.
Following the nickel tour of her new home where her husband and her brother lived, Ghost brought her upstairs to his—their—bedroom.
The first thing she noticed about the bed were the restraint rings built into the headboard.
When she looked at Ghost with raised eyebrows, he nonchalantly admitted to the strap and cuff system he had tucked under his mattress. After their wedding night, Becks had figured out that her husband was kinky, but to have all the equipment so readily available, in what would be their bed?
Becks wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
But Ghost, ever vigilant, kissed her temple.
The furniture and the mattress were all new, bought when he moved into the president’s house.
He had toys and certain things that he’d done with other women, which was understandable because Becks wasn’t a virgin either, but he’d never been with a woman in this room.
Their room.
His assurance of that certainly made her feel better, but that feeling didn’t last long.
Even with Ghost’s arms wrapped around her, Becks had a hard time falling asleep.
The club kids who had school would meet her later in the afternoon, but the rest of the club?
She knew a lot of names from Liam’s stories—emphasis on a lot.
Because there were a lot of them! Members alone were twenty something, plus wives and kids and parents and pets…
Becks had never been very good with names.
And what was her role now in the club? Becks may not have ever met them, but she knew the story of Jenna and Steel.
Jenna was the matriarch, the head of all the ol’ ladies.
Was that because she was the president’s wife, the first ol’ lady, or because of her personality?
Had she ruled with an iron fist? Becks was used to being on her own and doing her own thing.
Who was she to come into this group of women who had known each other for years and be expected to rule them?
Or maybe she was thinking too much. It wasn’t ‘rule’ like a monarchy.
She wasn’t their leader, but their friend and guide.
But who the hell was she to be someone’s mentor?
She’d been left at the altar and planned on running away herself, only to end up at that same altar with a different groom, while the first groom showed up drunk and possibly high.
Not exactly the dream wedding to tell her kids.
Ghost had held so much of her attention this weekend that she’d barely had time to think about Ritchie, and the times she had, she pushed the thoughts aside because she didn’t want to sour her mood.
She would have left anyway, she knew that in her bones.
It might have taken her arriving at the actual sanctuary to realize it, but she’d already been mentally out the door that morning.
And doing so would have made her the bad guy.
Ritchie would have been left at the altar, embarrassed and heartbroken, and the guilt would have driven her crazy.
Yet that hadn’t been how it’d played out.
Ritchie had showed up drunk to their wedding. And the things he’d said? Calling her a pig and a cow? It hurt. Not in a heartbreak way, but in the knowledge that she’d been blind. Was that how Ritchie actually saw her and thought of her? Then why would he date her, why would he want to marry her?
Becks thought about her wedding dress. She had loved it, but Ghost was right.
She’d picked it out for Ritchie. Because she knew that he wouldn’t want anything flashy or revealing for their big day.
Add the cape on top, and she really did feel the fool.
Ritchie had said it was because his conservative bosses were in the audience, but what if that had been only half the truth? What if he had wanted to cover her up?
She’d been such an idiot. Falling for a man who clearly did not love or respect her. Likely only wanted to marry her to show his bosses that he too was a traditional man. All those red flags waving in front of her, and Becks had excused every single one of them as wedding jitters.
What if Ghost hadn’t shown up, giving her a glimpse of the life she actually wanted? What if she’d followed through with the wedding because she’d been deluded into thinking she was in love?
Until five days ago, Becks would have sworn she knew what love was.
Ritchie had been the first boyfriend that she’d fallen for.
It couldn’t have all been a lie, right? Maybe he saw her as an opportunity to impress his bosses, and because she traveled so much for work, thought she was the perfect target?
In the dark room, Becks looked over her shoulder at Ghost’s sleeping form. She’d been wrong about Ritchie, was it possible she was wrong about Ghost too?
Even thinking such a thought felt blasphemous.
In the short time she’d known Ghost, he’d treated her with nothing but kindness and respect.
Even going so far as to put his needs aside for her.
He was a good man. Possessive, demanding, and kinky, but a good man.
What was it he’d said about not knowing what a good marriage was but he knew what it wasn’t?
She felt like that analogy applied to her too.
She might not know if she loved Ghost yet, but she knew what she felt with Ritchie had not been love.
Not real love, not the love of fables and fairytales. The love that she wanted and deserved.
She briefly contemplated reaching out to Ritchie, but nixed that idea almost immediately. What would be the point? What would she even say?
There was a lot Becks still needed to figure out.
Ghost had told her that all her things were here, or would be by morning.
The prospects he’d sent down to Alabama had gotten caught in some bad traffic from a pile up and were having to take a longer route on backroads to get back.
Ghost hadn’t been too happy to learn that, but Becks hadn’t cared.
In fact, she was dreading getting her phone back.
It had been really nice to disconnect, especially being able to avoid all the drama and accusations and fallout from the botched wedding.
She was enough of a chickenshit to admit that she was even a bit scared to face Libby, Liam, and her mom. She’d have to face Liam tomorrow, since he would be leaving early in the morning to come back.
The idea of traveling for work for weeks or months on end didn’t have the appeal it had only a few days ago. Would Ghost want to travel with her? Could he? Between the club and the bar, was it even possible?
Becks was good at what she did, and seeing her name in movie credits was a dream come true.
But… She also loved her podcast. When she’d started it years ago, it had been more of a fun side hobby.
She never expected to gain an audience or to have fans or sponsors.
And ignoring the fact that she’d married the first fan she’d found in the wild, it was mindboggling that Ghost had recognized her by her voice from listening to her podcast.
Most of her work did involve traveling, but eventually she would have to go into the studio.
Which was now a ten-plus hour commute. What if she quit her job?
She had savings, and there was a little left over from her dad’s trust he’d gifted her at his passing.
She’d used most of it to pay for college and her first car, figuring the rest would be a rainy day fund or a big event.
Ritchie had insisted on paying for the wedding, so she hadn’t paid out of pocket for anything but her dress.
Glancing at the clock, Becks let out a sigh.
Between worrying about her life’s choices and how the club would like her, she was never going to calm her nerves enough to get to sleep.
She carefully extracted herself from under Ghost’s arm.
They hadn’t had sex when they’d arrived back, opting to watch a movie and eat sandwiches in bed.
It had been homey and domestic. Maybe it was weird of her, but she liked that they had a relationship beyond sex.
She liked that Ghost wanted to spend time with her, regardless of the activity.
Not wanting to disturb him, Becks tried to sneak her way out of bed.
The room was extremely dark, since Ghost had blackout curtains on the windows, and she ended up zombie-walking her way to the bathroom.
She wondered if he would mind her changing some things around the house.
The fact that her brother and her husband had a large gun safe in the living room spoke volumes.
The house was quaint and had the air of someplace well lived. She didn’t have furniture to move in, though she did wonder where she could put her sound equipment.
Becks turned off the light to not disturb Ghost before leaving the bathroom. Plunged into darkness, she slowly made her way back to the bed. Ghost insisted that he sleep on the side closest to the door. Chivalrous, yes, but it also put him closer to the damn bathroom!
She barely took a few steps away from the bathroom when the lamp on the nightstand beside her bed flicked on.
Becks blinked at the sudden brightness a second before her brain registered that it wasn’t Ghost standing beside the bed who had turned on the light.
It was a man dressed all in black with black hair, blue eyes, and a long scar down the left side of his face.
Becks screamed!
Ghost bolted from the bed, his training taking over. Covers dragged with him as he rolled nimbly to his feet and raised his gun in a swift motion. It had been many years since he was a SEAL, but that didn’t mean his body didn’t recall every grueling bit of training.