Page 91 of Ghost

Ghost snaps the helmet strap, lifting a lock of my hair. “I think you already know the answer to that question.”

“Really?” I smile.

“Really.” Ghost grabs the ridge of my helmet at my chin, tugging me to him. “Any more questions, beautiful?”

I try to shake my head but can’t with how he’s holding my helmet. “No.”

“Then climb on, Luna.”

Ghost straddles his bike, and it’s practically pornographic. His strong thighs hold it in place, and his thick shoulders tense as he grips the handlebars.

Grabbing his shoulders, I climb on behind him, and the vibration between my legs has excitement humming through me. He reaches for my thighs and pulls my body flush with his, wrapping me around him.

Soul shouts something that makes Havoc laugh, but I can’t make it out over the roar of engines. And when the bike rolls forward, my stomach leaps to my throat.

It’s not my first time on a motorcycle, but this is something new. Like I’m accepting something I didn’t think I wanted.

The club rolls into formation, and I hug Ghost tightly, accepting the security of his presence and the freedom of this moment. The sun beats down on us as we travelthrough the desert, and I shed a piece of myself on the road behind us.

I close my eyes and soak in the warm desert day. The chorus of motorcycles hums across the desert, and I think about all that I’ve lost.

Parents I never knew.

Families who carved out pieces until I thought I was no longer worth it.

Pain and heartbreak and struggle.

But when I open my eyes to look around at the bikes surrounding me, I’m faced with the family I never expected. A club that protects me like I’m their sister. A man who guards me with his life.

They found out I was working against them and trusted me anyway. They stood up for me when they could have let me take the fall for my mistakes.

Everything Ghost and his club have done has been to keep me safe.

I wrap my arms tighter around Ghost’s waist, and one of his hands rests over mine. The bike coasts, and he laces our fingers together. We say everything we need to without any words, which makes sense since that’s how we started.

He saw me and couldn’t let me go. I saw him and wanted to stay.

Regardless of what either of us has done, I sense it would have always ended like this. He’s my destiny, and I’m his obsession.

He’s mine, and I’m his.

29

Ghost

We spend the majorityof the day making noise in the heart of Vegas. From breakfast on the Strip to circling Zane’s hotels and the Iron Sinners clubhouse, we make sure they know that their attempt at taking us down failed.

I’m sure Rick Zane thought he was smart calling in a favor with his buddies at the ATF, but the Twisted Kings aren’t dumb enough to store anything that can get us in trouble at the clubhouse. Every gun on the property is registered, and every computer has a tamper feature to wipe the system if anyone but those with a code tries to break in.

Most of what we do might be illegal, but we keep it away from where we live—from the brothers’ families.

After spending the morning in the city, we drive out to the lake and waste time. We wait until the sun is ready to dip below the horizon before heading back. Between Havoc checking in with prospects back at the clubhouseand me keeping an eye on the security systems, the rest of the men relax.

Now, we’re back at the clubhouse with beers flowing and burgers grilling.

I glance around the patio, and it sinks in how much has evolved over the years.

When I was a kid, I looked up to the cut—to Legacy’s dad and the men who came before us. They were a symbol of everything my father wasn’t. The cut represented loyalty and family. It protected the person wearing it. I wondered what it was like for people to have your back, while I was constantly on the other end of my father’s drunken aggression.

---