Chapter 2
GHOST
Iturned back toward the damaged rack, the hiss from the live tube cutting through the ringing in my ears as I started across the scorched ground.
Smoke drifted low over the launch field, while the Black Crowns took control of the chaos beyond the perimeter.
Fragments still ticked against the dirt as they settled.
The club’s doctor and any brothers with battlefield medical training—which were quite a few since former or current military service was required to patch with the Black Crowns—were working through the people nearest the blast to make sure there were no serious injuries.
Some brothers and prospects guided families and children toward the northern exit, while others widened the perimeter and locked down equipment access, as well as the approaches along the drainage cut. My earpiece carried clipped reports from the security teams.
“Keep everyone clear of the racks, firing board, cases, and trailer,” I ordered over the comm. “Nothing gets moved. Anything that shifted in the blast stays where it fucking landed until I clear it.”
A brother acknowledged from the southern edge, followed by another confirming the vehicle lane to the launch area was closed. Stryker’s voice came through next, telling the teams near the crowd to keep pushing people farther back.
I took another step toward the damaged rack, then caught movement in the edge of my vision and turned to find Tamsin had slipped around the concrete and retrieved the clipboard she’d dropped.
She was coming toward me with her gaze fixed on the launch diagram instead of the ground, while a loop of cable lay half hidden by smoke directly in her path.
She was one step from catching her boot when I reached her, took the board from her hands, and planted my palm at her lower back to guide her around the coil.
Heat spread across her cheeks, but she reached for the clipboard the moment we cleared the cable. Her fingers closed around empty air when I lifted it out of reach.
“I need that,” she snapped, stretching higher and making another grab for it.
“You need to watch where you’re walking.” I shifted the board into my other hand, keeping it beyond her fingertips.
“I was watching,” she insisted, planting her feet and glaring up at me.
“The cable disagrees.” I tipped my chin toward the coil she had nearly stepped into.
The glare she gave me could have peeled paint from the trailer.
But I winked, deliberately adding fuel because anger gave her something to do besides imagine what might have happened to her people.
The flush deepened beneath the light sprinkling of freckles on her face, and her lips parted on a breath that had nothing to do with the smoke.
I guided her back to the barrier and set her behind it before finally handing her the clipboard. I was only a few steps away when she attempted to follow me again, and I sighed.
“That line isn’t decorative, pretty girl,” I called, turning fully toward her.
“I know what a safety line is.” She kept walking, her chin tipped up and her attention fixed on the damaged rack behind me.
I pointed toward the spot she had just abandoned. “Then we’re both about to be impressed when you go back over there and stay behind it.”
The look she gave me promised she was not impressed by anything about me, although the color lingering in her cheeks argued otherwise.
She settled both hands on her hips, pulling the fitted polo tighter over her breasts.
Her vivid blue eyes narrowed as she threatened, “If you don’t let me help, I’m revoking your access to every piece of Bellamy equipment we own. ”
“Sounds serious.” I crossed the distance before she could slip past me, caught her around the waist, and lifted her off her feet. “Might have to appeal.”
“You cannot keep picking me up.” She braced her hands against my shoulders as I turned with her.
“Evidence suggests otherwise,” I replied, shifting her higher against me when she tried to twist around and look at the rack.
Tamsin sucked in a sharp breath as I carried her behind the painted line and deposited her beside the barrier.
Her rounded ass fit my forearm so perfectly that my cock reacted like we were somewhere private instead of standing in the aftermath of an explosion.
I kept both hands at her waist until her boots were planted where I wanted them, then tapped the toe of mine against the ground beside hers.
“Help from here,” I ordered.
She opened her mouth, and I cut her off before the argument escaped. “You follow me, I’ll have to divide my attention between the live fucking shell and keeping you intact. I’m very interested in the second job, pretty girl, but the first one needs both hands.”
Tamsin huffed, but she stayed where I put her, though the decision clearly cost her.
She pointed out the live tube, explained how the rack’s normal firing assembly should be configured, and warned me that the shell had shifted when I kicked the frame away from the crowd.
I asked about the ignition path after the board went dark, and she answered immediately.
I nodded and turned toward the rack again.
The attraction had been chewing through me since Bellamy Pyrotechnics rolled onto club property, but seeing a live shell turn toward her had stripped away the last bit of distance.
Her safety was personal now, and I accepted that as easily as I handled the weight of the weapon at my back.
Barely five-four, Tamsin was slender but softly curved, her polo following the swell of her tits and narrow waist before disappearing into black work pants that hugged the rounded hips I’d felt pressed against me.
Her heart-shaped face was all deceptive sweetness, with a small, straight nose, a softly rounded chin, and a full mouth made for blushing around filthy words.
Her blue eyes were framed by thick lashes and held far more steadiness than anyone judging her delicate appearance deserved to expect.
Her fair skin showed every emotion she tried to contain, warm color spreading beneath the freckles. And her wild dark-blond curls threaded with strawberry-gold had escaped her company cap to twist around her face.
My cock hardened with brutal disregard for the smoke, shouting, and wreckage around us, leaving me painfully aware that once I had her somewhere alone, keeping my hands off her was going to become a serious problem.
By the time I reached the rack, every trace of amusement had dropped away.
The assembly lay twisted toward the wash, one support peeled back where it had failed, and the remaining tube hissed with a live, ugly promise.
I angled my body away from the crowd and let years of EOD training narrow my focus to the fuse, shell, and movements required to kill the threat.
I worked without rushing, because speed without precision was a damn fast way to build a fucking casualty list. The noise around me receded until there was only the damaged steel beneath my hands and that steady hiss.
Then it cut off, and I secured the shell before lifting my head toward the barrier.
Tamsin leaned around the concrete far enough to watch me without stepping beyond it. Her brows pulled together, and her full mouth tightened as she stared at the twisted rack. Then she shifted her blue gaze from the equipment to me. “Why are you smiling?”
I straightened and let my grin widen now that the immediate threat wouldn’t kill anyone. “Frightened people make worse decisions when everybody around them sounds scared. Calm voices keep them breathing, and humor helps them listen.”
Her expression remained mutinous, though curiosity had begun to push through the anger. She tipped her chin toward me. “So everything is a joke?”
“Nope.” I looked directly at her, enjoying the way her breath caught when my attention settled fully on her. “Making you glare at me is becoming one of the best fucking parts of my evening, though.”
Color swept over her cheeks, while her hands curled against the barrier. Anger kept her focused. The blush told me the attraction was mutual, and her gaze kept returning to the equipment. She could function under pressure even while I made it harder.
“You’re impossible.”
“Known me less than an hour, and you’re already learning.”
I checked the damaged support again, then glanced toward her. She was still watching every move I made. “I need to see the launch diagram.”
Tamsin came around the barrier, ignoring my frown, and hurried toward me with the clipboard she’d retrieved earlier. She flipped to the right-side battery, already reading as she straightened. “What did you see before the rack failed?”
I started toward her. “Status indicator on the right-side battery flickered out of sequence. Did that cue have any reason to reach it early?”
She frowned as she looked from the diagram to the rack. “No. It couldn’t have. That battery wasn’t supposed to receive anything until the next volley.”
I plucked the clipboard from her hands to get a closer look.
“Stop stealing my clipboard!” she gasped in outrage, making a grab for it.
She looked like a hissing kitten, which was cute as hell. I smirked as I held it out of reach again.
“You think this is funny?” she demanded.
“I think you’re really fuckin’ pretty when you’re mad.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, and I had to fight like hell not to drop my gaze to her tits. Her chin rose another fraction. “I am not trying to be pretty.”
“Natural talent,” I teased.
Her mouth pressed into a stubborn line, but the corner twitched before she forced it still. I kept the board as we walked, then we stopped beside the damaged rack, and I turned the clipboard so we could both see it. Field lights threw every bent bracket and scorched cable into sharp relief.
“Tell me exactly what should’ve happened when you hit the emergency stop.”