Chapter 18
There was no pain, no agony, no weakness from unhealed wounds. There was only pure, undiluted rage.
Yesterday, they’d discovered where Becks and Ranger had been held in Mount Grove.
They’d been right under the club’s noses, which pissed off not only them but also Carlos.
Because they’d been in the old sheriff’s station.
The one now closed down and used as a storage building for town décor, office supplies, and miscellaneous junk.
Ghost had stood in the cell where his wife had been kept for days, only hours after they left it.
Hours. He’d missed her by fucking hours. Ghost wasn’t the only one who was ready to burn the place to the ground; Carlos would have supplied the gasoline.
Then Keys had announced that he’d found her.
Somehow the club’s tech had used a facial recognition program to identify Becks, even out of state.
It had only taken him minutes from the time she stepped into that bank to identify her, but even though the club had headed out that second, they’d still been over four hours away from Becks’ current location.
They had no choice but to notify the local authorities.
Keys was able to send the teller a message, but that hadn’t prevented Ritchie from guessing something was up.
Ghost tried not to let the disappointment of the bank failure get to him, because now he had somewhere to hunt. With the police after them, Ritchie wouldn’t just drive back to Mount Grove or wherever it was they’d been keeping Becks. No, he’d hunker down and hide like the weasel he was.
Let him.
The club was checking motels, abandoned or empty homes, and low-rent hotels in the area. Anywhere that would take cash and not check ID. It took all night, but their hunt was nowhere close to being over.
The entire club was with him. Brothers Thorne, Goose, and Grimm were back guarding club property.
All the ol’ ladies and club kids were on lockdown.
Pumpkin was there, not wanting to leave his family as they grieved the loss of their friend and nanny.
Ghost could not fault him that, and to be honest, he had not done enough to honor Frankie or Monica, who had been a dedicated employee regardless of her start in the club.
But he could not risk losing focus. Maybe that made him heartless, but there was no time for mourning. He had to find Becks.
Kelly was still at the Mount Grove hospital with Grumpy, and Pumpkin promised to check in on him daily too.
The four prospects, plus Apollo, were guarding Loretta, who had come up the day before, Tessa, and Ranger at the Cottonville hospital.
Bear had wanted to stay with his wife, but she’d forced him onto his bike.
There was no indication that either Cameron or Ritchie was working with anyone else, and neither of them was anywhere near Cottonville to come after Ranger or Tessa at the hospital. Bear was needed elsewhere.
Tessa knew there was no stopping Ghost from going, but she did forbid him from driving his motorcycle.
So instead Ghost rode shotgun in Keys’ souped-up van while Jigsaw drove.
When they stopped somewhere, Jigsaw was able to hop into the back to help Keys on the computers and Ghost got out with the club to help search.
It was early in the morning when Keys traced a video call from an acquaintance of Ritchie’s to a computer at a campground less than forty minutes from their current location.
The club rolled up just as the rain started to fall—but not even the downpour could stop Ghost from seeing his wife, battered and beaten, on the ground with Ritchie standing over her and an old man undoing his pants behind her.
He was out of the van before it even stopped.
He ran right past Becks, tackling the old man to the ground.
The club would capture Ritchie, but the fucking man with the undone jeans was Ghost’s.
He didn’t know the man’s name or his connection to Ritchie or even why he was at this rundown, mountainous campground.
All Ghost knew was that he’d been undoing his pants while standing over Ghost’s wife.
Rain, mud, and blood splattered everywhere. Ghost heard nothing, saw nothing, but the man’s broken face as Ghost beat the very breath from his body. And when the man was past death, Ghost continued to pummel him. Over and over until his teeth and bones cracked beneath Ghost’s onslaught.
There was a sense of euphoria as he sat back on the man’s chest. Of rightness in the world. After six fucking days, he’d found her. Becks was here, and she was alive.
Ghost stumbled to his feet. He knew what Becks had just seen him do, and he didn’t care.
She should know the man she’d married, know all of him.
The good, the bad, and the ugly. She should know that there were no lengths, no limits, to his protection of her, including killing anyone who threatened both her and their future children.
He turned. Through the spring rain, he saw Ritchie on his knees, hands held behind his back by Bulldog. Some of the club was missing, and Ghost had to assume they were out looking for Cameron.
His eyes danced around. “Where’s Becks? Where is my wife?”
Becks heard footsteps behind her. Everything hurt, and a part that was bigger than she cared to admit wanted her to just curl up on the ground and die.
But she couldn’t. She heard her name be called, along with the order to stop.
Fear kept her pushing forward. The trees were dense and thick, and the rain both aided to hide her and hindered her ability to see where she was going.
For all she knew, she was making a huge circle.
Also, she was on a mountain. What if she kept going and fell off the mountain?
But she couldn’t stop. Flashes of Cameron going down on Ranger kept appearing in her head. She’d been unable to save her brother that trauma. He’d been tied down, drugged out of his mind. She might be beaten, but she would fight to her last breath to keep that man from touching her.
A branch snapped nearby. Her ears felt like there were cotton balls shoved inside. That couldn’t be good. She tripped over a tree with a low-hanging branch. Someone called her name again as she righted herself.
“Becks!”
She looked up into the pouring rain. That had sounded like Ghost. Was he up in the tree? Fear gripped her as she heard the sounds of someone approaching her from behind. Was it the man? Had he gotten his pants off yet?
“Becks!”
Her heart raced. That was definitely Ghost! He’d found her. Why was he up in the tree? “Ghost!” she called out as quietly as she dared. “Ghost! I’m coming!”
Willing to do anything to get to her husband, Becks lifted herself up on the branch.
Her sore, bleeding feet scraped along the bark and rough wood.
Her arms felt like they had weights attached to them as she tried to fling herself over the next branch.
She wasn’t a runner, and frankly, she was judging her own lack of climbing skills.
Why hadn’t she at least joined Libby at the gym once in a while? Gained some upper body strength?
“Becks!”
That voice came from below. Oh no, the man with the pants was coming! She needed to climb higher! She needed to get to Ghost!
“Becks!” Ghost shouted again, trying to get her attention. Why was she climbing a fucking tree? She was in no condition, given the state of her hands, her feet, and her face. There was a good chance she had a concussion.
The rain kept falling, but the denseness of the trees helped protect them from the water droplets under the canopy.
Ghost had one arm wrapped around his middle. His ribs were protesting every step, but he kept pushing forward. She was so close, and yet she was still going up that goddamn tree!
Bulldog, Starbucks, Bones, and Demo stayed behind with Ritchie. Angel, Cage, Scar, and Poker went up the campground’s gravel road in search of Cameron. Pirate, Jigsaw, Jumper, and Keys were back at the van.
And the rest of them were spread out through the woods looking for his runaway wife.
“Becks! Stop!”
She shook her head, hugging the body of the tree. “He’s coming. I have to get away!”
Bear frowned up the tree. “Her words are slurred. That’s not a good sign.”
Ghost had picked up on that as well. He started towards the branch, but Lucky stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “You’re hurt,” his VP reminded him. “Let one of us go.”
But Ghost pushed off the hand. “She’s my wife. No one is getting her out of this fucking tree, but me.”
Becks wasn’t that far up, maybe fifteen feet, but that was still fifteen feet she could fall and further injure herself.
Ghost got up on the lowest branch. It pissed him off to see blood smeared along the bark. From her feet or her hands? In the end, it didn’t matter. A single drop of her blood was too much in his opinion.
“Becks, baby, I need you to stop climbing. Will you look down? I’m right here.”
She reached for the next branch. “Ghost!” She no longer kept her voice low, legitimately screaming his name now. “Ghost, he’s coming! Help me!”
Fuck, she thinks I’m the fucking man she’s running from, Ghost thought frantically as he climbed up onto the next branch.
He needed to stop her from going up, because the branches just above her head were significantly thinner than the ones that were currently supporting both Ghost’s and Becks’ weights.
“Becks! It’s me! I’m the one below you. Just stop and look!”
“Depending on how hard she was hit, she might be suffering from auditory hallucinations and not recognizing your voice!” Bear’s voice called up to him.