Chapter 17
GHOST
It was a few minutes after midnight when I eased out from beneath Tamsin’s arm and sat on the edge of my bed.
She slept sprawled across the mattress, and a sleepy sound escaped her lips as she reached across the warm space I had left, dragging my pillow against her chest before curling around it.
When the sheet slipped low over one rounded hip, the sight nearly convinced me that the storage property could survive another hour without my personal attention.
I kissed her temple and breathed in the warm scent of her skin before forcing myself upright.
“Be back, pretty girl,” I murmured.
Then I dragged myself away, because the sooner we handled the crew threatening her, the sooner every hour of my night could belong exactly where I wanted it. After one last look, I trudged toward the shower before staying became more appealing than doing my damn job.
My injured side pulled when I dressed and secured my weapon beneath my cut, but the stitches held.
Nomad waited in the back lot with Wraith, Smoke, and two other brothers beside an unmarked truck old enough to disappear among the ranch vehicles scattered through the canyon. Smoke looked at the faint bite marks above the collar of my shirt, then grinned.
“Thought we were dragging you away from sleep,” he razzed as I approached. “Looks like you were busy.”
“You can stare, or you can keep your teeth,” I threatened, pulling open the passenger door.
Wraith shoved Smoke toward the far side of the back seat. “He’s offering choices now. Must’ve had a hell of a night.”
Nomad drove us west without turning on the cab light, taking two county roads before cutting onto an old ranch track a half mile from the storage property.
The key and address recovered from the road ambush had led to a fenced parcel tucked between low ridges, far enough from neighboring homes that engines and gunfire would not draw immediate attention.
We left the truck behind a stand of scrub oak and covered the remaining distance on foot, using the broken terrain to stay out of view of the exterior cameras.
I took the first approach because explosives had already become the crew’s favorite solution whenever their plans went bad.
Nothing obvious waited along the dry wash or the narrow path leading toward the fence, but I found a motion sensor wired into one of the outer lights and a camera aimed at the main drive.
Whoever used the place had protected the obvious approaches while treating the steep southern slope like no one would bother climbing it.
“Lazy bastards,” Smoke muttered as he crouched beside me.
“Be grateful.” I studied the building through a compact pair of binoculars. “Competent criminals ruin everybody’s night.”
A truck connected to the warehouse theft rolled through the gate less than thirty minutes after we settled into position.
Two men opened the storage building while a third backed the vehicle close, and all three carried sidearms. They unloaded four equipment cases, including one with Bellamy-style markings partially covered by black tape, then moved the truck beside two other vehicles positioned nose-out for a fast departure.
Nomad photographed the plates and gate while Wraith tracked the men moving between the yard and building. I studied the narrow service road disappearing behind the property toward the north ridge. The rear route was rough but passable, giving anyone inside a second way out if the main drive closed.
“Rear road hooks east after the fence,” Nomad murmured, checking the terrain map on his phone. “Comes out near the old quarry spur.”
“Put eyes on both ends before daylight,” I instructed. “Nobody gets close enough to spook them.”
We held the first rotation until nearly four, long enough to see another vehicle arrive and one of the men carry out a small case, handling it with more care than the others.
The distance kept me from identifying the contents, but caution from men who had been tossing heavy equipment around like luggage made the case worth remembering.
Wraith took the last set of photographs before another surveillance team moved into place from the eastern ridge.
I returned to the compound just before dawn, showered the dust from my skin, and slid back into bed beside Tamsin.
She turned toward me, pressing her face into my chest, and I spent several hard minutes staring at the ceiling while her thigh rested across an erection I did not have time to use properly.
The club kept an eye on the property throughout the morning while I moved between reports, short meetings, and my office.
When I was trapped behind the desk, Tamsin usually occupied the couch along the wall, curled into one corner with Bellamy paperwork and her bare feet tucked beneath her.
Every few pages, she would look up to make sure I was still there, and every time she did, I pictured shutting the door, pulling her across the desk, and making her read the same paragraph again with my hand between her thighs.
She caught me watching shortly before noon. “Are you doing any work?”
“Plenty,” I rumbled, letting my gaze move over the soft shirt hugging her breasts. “Some of it requires close observation.”
“That explanation would be more convincing if you were looking at the reports.”
A few minutes later, Jacqueline appeared in the doorway. “Want to help in the kitchen before Halo’s cooking poisons half the brothers?”
“Sure.”
Tamsin went with her, and I listened to her laughter drift down the hall while I reviewed the next surveillance update.
By midafternoon, the damaged SUV that had escaped the road interception had returned.
At least six armed men rotated through the site, and the vehicles remained positioned for a fast exit rather than normal loading.
Nothing about the place suggested a legitimate storage operation, and everything about their movements said they were preparing to relocate whatever the warehouse raid and road ambush had failed to secure.
The current surveillance team returned shortly before five, bringing clearer photographs and confirmation that Bellamy-marked cases were being staged near the trucks.
Stryker called the final prep meeting shortly after, but my first stop after debriefing the returning brothers was the clubhouse lounge.
Tamsin sat on a stool beside the pool table while Bex leaned over a shot and Jacqueline accused her of inventing rules as she went. Tamsin’s head tipped back on a soft giggle, wild curls spilling down her back. She looked fucking fantastic relaxed inside my world.
She looked up the moment I entered, and the laughter in her face changed into warm relief before she crossed the room toward me. “You were gone longer this time.”
“Counting the minutes?”
“Maybe.”
I caught her around the waist and pulled her into me before she could pretend the answer had not pleased me.
Her body settled against mine automatically, palms flattening over my chest as though that was where they belonged now.
I kissed the corner of her mouth, and felt my cock harden when her lips chased mine by half an inch.
“Stryker needs your eyes on some pictures.” I kept my hand spread over her lower back as I took her to his office.
Hawkeye stood near the window, Cipher had surveillance photographs spread across one monitor, and Bishop, Judge, Wraith, and Nomad occupied the chairs and wall space around the table.
Trigger, Breach, Skyfall, Smoke, and several other patched brothers filtered in behind us, their conversation rough but focused as they studied the property layout.
Stryker tipped his chin toward the open place beside Cipher. “Show her the cases.”
Tamsin moved to the screen while I stayed close enough that her arm brushed mine.
Cipher brought up the clearest image from that afternoon, and she leaned forward, concentration replacing the warmth she had carried from the lounge.
No one interrupted while she studied the markings, enlarged the damaged corners, and compared the containers against details only someone raised inside Bellamy Pyrotechnics would recognize.
“These three belong to us,” she determined, touching the screen carefully. “The yellow bands mark controlled pyrotechnic material, but the labels have been removed. This longer case should hold firing components, unless they repacked it.”
Judge slid a printed photograph closer. “What about this one?”
Tamsin studied the damaged container. “Don’t move this until Gavin checks it. That corner shouldn’t be bowed outward, and the latch looks newer than the rest of the case.”
“Anything else?” I asked, enjoying how seriously she considered the question.
Her gaze dropped toward the bandage beneath my shirt. “Try not to get stabbed again.”
Smoke coughed into his fist, Wraith looked toward the ceiling, and Judge’s mouth twitched before he hid it behind his coffee. I made no effort to conceal my grin. Tamsin noticed the reactions and blushed, but she held my gaze.
I kissed her temple before walking her to the kitchen, where Bex and Jacqueline were sitting at the island drinking from steaming mugs and talking with Dot and Mara—old ladies whose men had been with the club since before Stryker became president.
Dot pushed a third mug toward an empty stool with a warm smile for my pretty girl.
Tamsin looked at me before joining them, and I squeezed the back of her neck and left her with the women before returning to Stryker’s office.
The meeting stayed brief because we had spent the day learning the ground.
Stryker laid out the approach, and the brothers refined it.
Road teams would close the main drive and the rear service route, breach groups would hit from opposite sides, and no one would touch a Bellamy case until I cleared it.
“If they try to burn the place, stop the fire before you chase the asshole holding the match.” I looked around the room. “We need the material intact, and I’d rather not spend tonight picking pieces of you out of a hillside.”
Smoke leaned back in his chair. “You say the sweetest shit before a raid.”
“Trying to keep morale up.”
Hawkeye pointed at the rear service road on the map. “Nomad’s people close this first. Once it’s shut, vehicles stay inside the fence.”
Stryker looked around the table. “Nobody plays hero, breaks formation, or gets greedy. We take the site, the material, and every bastard we can keep breathing long enough to answer questions.”
We answered with low acknowledgments. Men checked weapons, comms, armor, and the gear required for the parts they would handle.
I changed into a clean shirt over the bandage, settled my cut across my shoulders, and secured the equipment I would need if the damaged case held more than stolen material.
Darkness had settled over the compound when I returned to the lounge.
Tamsin sat on the arm of one couch while Jacqueline and Bex argued over the final pool score, but she stood the moment she saw me.
Worry tightened her face, and she crossed straight into my arms without caring how many brothers watched.
I caught the back of her neck and brought her close. “What do you need, pretty girl?”
“Come back,” she ordered fiercely, her fingers clutching the front of my cut.
“You’re in my bed.” I lowered my mouth near hers. “Where else would I go?”
Her gaze dropped to my bandaged side before rising again. “Then come back with fewer holes than last time.”
“Bossy.”
“You like it.”
I kissed her hard, and her body pressed closer, the soft sound she made against my tongue sending a brutal pulse through my cock. I broke the kiss before I forgot the property full of armed men waiting for me.
“Love it,” I growled against her swollen lips.
I rested my forehead against hers for one moment while her hands stayed fisted in my cut. She was scared, but she didn’t ask me to stay. She trusted the brothers riding with me, and I intended to reward her faith by returning to her before the night ended.
“Move out,” Stryker called from the clubhouse entrance.
I released Tamsin, crossed the lounge, and joined the brothers heading outside.
My last look found her standing between Jacqueline and Bex, worried but steady, her eyes following me all the way through the door.
She would still be there when I returned, and I would be in my bed with her before she had time to get used to the empty space.