Page 89 of Ghost

Once church ended, Ghost locked himself in his office. I’m surprised he came to bed at all, given he doesn’t usually sleep when something goes down at the clubhouse. Which means he must have done it for me.

I stare up at the ceiling, watching the sunbeams dance through the window. The clouds cast shadows on the popcorn ceiling as the room lights and dims with each one that passes. I imagine faces in the bumps on theceiling as I stare up at them and try to process the past twenty-four hours.

Yesterday afternoon, when I discovered all the secrets Ghost has been keeping, I was in shock. Teetering on a ledge between confusion and hurt that there were things he was still keeping from me. I was still reeling when the club was raided, so I haven’t had time to fully process everything I discovered.

It all happened so fast, and I’m overwhelmed with information.

Now, in the light of morning, I work through the truth.

Ghost has been watching me. More than that, he’s been pretending to be someone else to get close to me. All this time, I thought he was keeping me at a distance, but he’s been right there.

I should be upset that he’s still not telling me everything when he promised to be honest. I should feel violated that he’s been watching me in my bedroom and keeping a secret identity to learn all my secrets.

But after what happened with the ATF, when I saw Ghost returning home and walking to me through the crowd, none of that mattered.

I missed him.

He was back.

He was mine.

Ghost is the only person who makes sense in this madness, and when he held me, I knew I was safe, no matter what twisted lengths he’s willing to go to in order to make that happen.

Climbing out of bed, I shower and get dressed. The bruise on the side of my forehead is worse than it was last night. It’s slowly turning from red to purple, and the gash from the corner of the doorframe is raw and ugly. I clean it up and hide it as much as I can with my hair before walking out of the bedroom.

When I open the door, I can already hear people stirring. There’s still so much to clean, but we decided it would be best to do the rest in the morning. I slip my phone in my back pocket and tie a knot in my T-shirt as I head down the hallway, ready to help.

But when I step into the den, no one is cleaning. Instead, every ranked member of the club is standing around. It’s only eight in the morning, and it’s rare to see them all up this early. But from their worn expressions, I sense they didn’t sleep much, if at all.

Ghost catches sight of me walking into the room, and he immediately walks over to me, cupping my jaw in his hand.

“You’re awake.” He leans down to kiss me. “How’s your head?”

“The medicine is starting to kick in. Thank you for leaving that on the nightstand.”

“Of course.” He brushes his thumb underneath the bruise.

“Did you get any sleep?”

“An hour. Two, maybe.” Ghost looks down at me. “I had work to do.”

“This is bad, isn’t it?”

Ghost wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me to him. “No one attacks our club and expects to walk away from it, Luna. But more than that, no one touches you but me.”

I should be terrified of that response. But I live here; I’ve accepted it. These men aren’t good, but they protect their own. And as I look up into Ghost’s pale-blue eyes, I don’t fear what he might do for his club—for me. I fell for a man who will make those who hurt the ones he cares about suffer, and I accept that truth.

“Everyone is awake early.” I look around the room. “What’s going on? Don’t you all usually meet in church?”

“This isn’t a meeting. We’re going on a ride.”

“The whole club?”

He nods. “The whole club.”

I look around and take in the scene differently. The clubhouse is still messy, but the mood in the room is different than it was last night. Hints of defeat have faded, and the men are starting to rally.

It’s a show of force. They’re making a statement after the ATF raid, reminding their rivals they’re still standing.

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