“We’ve survived worse,” he said, without real conviction. It was different now; as president, the burden rested entirely on his shoulders.
“We have,” she said, because it was what she had to say as the president’s wife.
Ghost shook himself, refocused visibly, picked up his fork. “Where’s Ava?”
Maggie felt a beat of guilt. “With Ronnie. Oh, shit, the salad.”
“What? I don’t need salad.”
But she was already up and going to the fridge for a head of romaine. “It won’t take but a sec.”
“Ronnie’s?” Ghost asked behind her. “God, I hate that little puss. Did Littlejohn follow her like he’s supposed to? I don’t like her being off like that withhim. She’d have to be the one protecting him.”
She passed the knife through the lettuce in hard, sure slices. “Littlejohn’s got it covered. You know, I like him. Harry, too. They’re respectful, focused–”
“And what do you mean she’s ‘at Ronnie’s’? What are they doing there they can’t do here?”
“Don’t be that dad.” Maggie clucked her tongue as she scooped the lettuce curls into a bowl. “She’s twenty-two. You know why they want some privacy.”
“Fuck me,” he grumbled. “I don’t like it. She shouldn’t be…doing that. It’s not right.”
“It’s normal.”
“Wellsheisn’t!”
Maggie glanced at him over her shoulder, brows lifted.Care to explain?
He speared a chunk of chicken and aimed it at her with his fork. “She’s too good for that shithead. He doesn’t understand her, doesn’t appreciate her, and he damn sure can’t look after her while all this shit’s going on.”
Maggie debated a long moment, feeling traitorous, cringing inwardly. “I agree,” she said, finally. “He’s not good enough for her. Mainly because he doesn’t care about her. Not the way she deserves.”
“That’s my point.”
“I want you to keep that in mind, then, baby, Kenny, love of my life–”
His eyes narrowed. “Mags.”
“ – when I tell you that Ava isn’t actually with Ronnie tonight.”
He was out of his chair in an instant. “Mercy. She’s with him? Jesus Christ, I’m going to–”
“Going to what?” Maggie shouted, to catch his attention. “Honestly, Ghost, what are you going to do? Lock her up in the attic? Geld Mercy? Send him away again?”
Before he could interrupt, she said, “My God, think about what you just said. You want her appreciated, you want her loved, you want her understood and protected and sheltered – are you so stubborn you can’t see that’s exactly what she has with Mercy? They can’t keep away from each other because they can’t help it. The thing between them is bigger than your orders or the club’s judgment, or any kind of threat you can make to them.”
“It’s disgusting,” he said.
“No. No, it’s not. If you’d open your eyes andlookat them, you’d see how much he loves her. It is heartbreaking, how much they miss each other. You can’t…” She threw up her hands, sighing, tears pricking at her eyes. “I was sixteen,” she said in a choked voice. “And I loved you, and you gave me your eight-year-old son, and I graduated high school with a baby bump.” She blinked furiously. “How is Mercy loving Ava any more disgusting than that?”
He put his hands on his hips and stared at the grout line in the tile. “Because he is–”
“Your guy.” She came around the table, to get close to him, to plead with her presence, her body, and not just her words. “He’s your club brother, and Aidan’s brother. He’s your go-to killer, and he’s done violent, unspeakable things. Trust me, I know, because a lot of those unspeakable things he’s done for me, and for Ava. Mercy’s the reason I had to pull up the carpet in Ava’s room fourteen years ago. He’s also” – her voice caught – “the only reason I have Ava alive and whole today.
“And when she went to him tonight, you know what I thought? I didn’t think about him defying you, or breaking your trust, or doing something sick. I thought about him taking the skin off any motherfucker who dared to look at her funny. Because I don’t ever, for a second, worry about my little girl when she’s with him.
“Who in this whole world would you trust more with her wellbeing? Him, Ghost. Him and only him, or you wouldn’t have charged him with her when she was eight.”
It felt like forever that she stared at the spiked tips of his dark hair while he studied the floor. When his head lifted, his expression was a rare, tortured mask of regret. It melted her instantly; she laid hands on his chest, pressed in close to him.
