Page 14 of Ghost
Ripper’s the first one to make an offer. “They can stay at my place. If Blaze shows his face, I want to be the one to put a bullet between his eyes. I’ll stay at the club until they make a move.”
Ripper owns a cabin up on the mountain. Up there, the signal is weak, if not non-existent. We won’t be tracked, sure. At the same time, all of my technology will be deemed useless. I won’t be able to keep an eye on everything. I’ll have to put my complete trust in my brothers.
Judge clicks his tongue. “The goal is not to spill blood. Not unless they attack first.”
Ripper hums his disagreement, but he keeps the words on his tongue.
Judge pins him with a look. “And you’re going to behave if they’re holed up in your place? No side trips to go hunting?”
Ripper’s smile is all teeth, a predator’s promise. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Prez. You have my word.”
A collective, silent disbelief hangs in the room. Every single one of us knows it’s a lie. Judge just sighs, the sound heavy with exhaustion. He just wants this wrapped up so he can sit at the bar, his usual hobby.
“Fine. Ghost, pack your bags. You’re heading up there while the fog still gives us cover. Lay low until this storm runs its course.” His gaze flicks to Diesel. “Get a few of your prospects together. You’ll ride escort, just in case they’ve already planned an ambush. Warden leads.” Finally, he looks at Hammer. “Check the armory. Make sure everyone riding out has what they need.”
The orders fly fast, the club’s machine snapping into motion. It’s a whirlwind, a sudden plunge into a possible war Eliza didn’t ask for. I look down, worried the speed and the violent implications are too much, that she’s pale with fear.
But her face is flushed. A high, warm color paints her cheeks, and her eyes are wide, not with terror, but with a daze like she’s lost in her head.
What is she thinking? Is this overwhelming? Or is it… something else?
I want to ask her, but Judge is already calling an end, hitting his gavel hard enough to send the men into action.
Leading her back to the clubhouse and to my room, the sanctuary that’s about to be abandoned, I try to swallow down my sorrows. The door clicks shut, and I pause, my gaze sweeping over the space. My systems, my laptop filled to the brim with encrypted data, my tools.
A low curse forms in my mind. I’m going to be pissed if anyone touches my stuff. The laptop alone is a vault of club intelligence and my own private work. Is leaving it behind even an option?
It’s safer here, I think. Maybe I can stuff everything beneath my mattress…
The grimace must be plain on my face because her voice is small when she speaks. “I’m so sorry. I’ve put you in an impossible situation.”
The apology is a blade twisting in my gut. I don’t want her to ever be sorry. Not for this, or anything.
Seeing the guilt shadow her features, I don’t think twice. I cross the room in two strides, my hands coming up to cradle her face. Her skin is soft, warm.
“Look at me,” I command, my voice low. “Being at your side isn’t some kind of punishment, Eliza. It’s my choice, okay?I wouldn’t have gotten involved if I didn’t know what could happen as an outcome.”
Her breath hitches. “So… we’re really going to be staying in a place together? For days? Just the two of us?”
“It could be weeks,” I tell her, the reality of it settling in. “Maybe months.” I want to grimace at the confinement, the isolation from my duties, but the thought doesn’t get a chance to form, because she smiles.
It’s not a scared smile. It’s a slow, blooming curve of her lips that holds a universe of unspoken thoughts, and one look at that curve is all it takes to reveal how weak I am.
I can’t help myself. I kiss her.
The second our lips meet, the control I wear like armor cracks. I nip at her bottom lip, a bite that coaxes a gasp from her, and I use it, tilting her head back to lick deeper into her mouth.
I am drowning in her. The world outside this room evaporates before me. There is only the soft sound of her breathing, the heat of her skin under my hands.
When her hands come up to grip my arms for support, her fingers digging into my muscles, I groan in the back of my throat. I break from her mouth, my lips trailing a hot, wet path down the delicate line of her jaw, finding the frantic pulse at the base of her throat. I feel it hammer against my tongue.
“You taste sweet,” I growl against her skin, the words rough and foreign to my own ears. My hands slide down from her face, over her shoulders, running possessively over the leather of my cut on her body.
“I want you to wear this from now on,” I murmur into her ear, my voice thick with a greed I’m no longer trying to hide. My hands settle on her hips, pulling her flush against me. “I’ll get another.”
She makes another cute little gasping sound when my teeth graze her pulse.
Just as my hands slip beneath my cut, tracing the sides of her body, a sharp knock is immediately followed by the door swinging open.
