Page 38 of Ghost
I had to admit, this was so far out of the fucking blue there had to be more to it.
“You have to admit everyone has shit to deal with.”
“We can deal with our shit without a fucking therapist. We don’t talk outside the club.”
King slammed the gavel down and that was the end of it.
January 14, 2025
The wind blew hard, causing my truck to wobble from side to side. We all had a vehicle other than our bikes. We had to, living in Nebraska. Unlike Little Rock, where we could ride all fucking year, winters in Nebraska brought snow, and worse, ice.
Driving a vehicle with four wheels over black ice—something I had never heard of until we moved to the goddamn North Pole—was scary enough. Two wheels would guarantee I lost control.
Not to mention I would freeze my dick off from the wind.
Jingles and I were on our way to the motel on the edge of town. Warren Kelley was a son-of-a-bitch shady business owner and fired the kid that worked for him when he refunded the money Maureen had spent to book a room in the run-down rat trap.
The problem was, when she booked the room, the pictures online didn’t show an accurate assessment of the reality of what she would find when she came to town.
Joey was now prospecting for the club. He was a good kid, doing his best as he tried to raise his baby sister in spite of his drunk mother. Gunner sponsored him without hesitation. We all knew he would, seeing as he’d been in a similar situation when he approached Steele in Arkansas. The difference was, Joey’s baby sister would be safe hanging around the clubhouse here.
I never met Gunner’s baby sister, Mellie. He shipped her off to college just before I prospected. The rumor was she came to the clubhouse looking for him and one of the brothers pinned her in the corner. Gunner beat the shit out of him and almost lost his patch because of it.
If anyone bothered to ask me, the asshole deserved what he got. Not just for assaulting the girl, but no one in their right mind would touch Gunner’s sister. We all knew the story about how he beat a man to death at fifteen because he found him tugging his dick over her while she slept.
Anyone would have to be one crazy motherfucker to take a chance on going up against Gunner when his sister was involved.
Either that or they had a death wish.
Pulling into the parking lot, the first thing I noticed was the girl sitting at the desk. She looked to be about eighteen or nineteen. At least I hoped she was. Kelley was known for hiring kids who he could take advantage of.
We stepped into the office and when she looked up and saw the cut, her eyes widened in fear.
“Don’t worry, darlin’. We ain’t here to cause you any harm. Just looking for Mr. Kelley,” I explained, hoping to calm her down.
She swallowed, and I swore the way her throat moved slowly up and down; anyone would think she’d eaten a baseball for dinner without chewing. The fear radiated off her like a tsunami.
“Sweetheart, how old are you?” Jingles asked, leaning on the counter, giving her his best panty dropping smile. The one that accentuated his fucking dimples.
Women loved those goddamn things. I swear the man could look like a bridge troll and women would still fall at his feet the moment they caught sight of them.
This girl wasn’t any different.
She blushed, her cheeks turning bright red as she answered quietly, “Nineteen.”
He pulled a fucking business card from his cut and slid it across the counter. My eyes rolled so far back in my head I thought I might tip over.
“Sweetheart, hold onto this card. If Mr. Kelley does anything you aren’t comfortable with, I want you to call me, ok?”
The girl nodded but didn’t say a word. She just stared at Jingles.
“Darlin’.” My elbow connected with his rib to wipe those fucking dimples from his face. They were like a beacon calling out to women everywhere. “Do you know where we can find Mr. Kelley?” I asked, pulling her focus away from Jingles.
“Um, no. He doesn’t come here much. Unless we have a problem.”
Jingles frowned, looking out the window on the door.
“What kind of problems do you have here?”
