GHOST OF CHAOS: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK TWELVE)
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GHOST OF CHAOS
Gods of Chaos Motorcycle Club
Book Twelve
Honey Palomino
COPYRIGHT © 2019 HONEY PALOMINO
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED WORLDWIDE
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events, locations and incidences are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This book is for entertainment purposes only. This book contains mature content and is intended for adults only.
This is dedicated
to the souls
that live
in the darkness.
PROLOGUE
HAWK
Halloween, 2019
“When you’re dead, your greatest sanctuary is found in the shadows…”
~Hawk Blackwood, 1927
I live in the shadows.
I watch from afar.
They have so much fun, so much life in them left to live.
Although I deeply yearn to be included, I know it’s best to stay back.
They would never accept me, even with their good hearts. Nor, would I allow it. I don’t deserve to be included.
I’ve done things. Things I’m not proud of.
I’ve taken souls. I’ve taken fortunes. I’ve ripped away loved ones and left strong men drowning in the darkest despair.
I am broken. I’m evil.
So, I hide.
I watch.
I listen to everything.
I pretend I’m part of their family and I laugh at Slade’s jokes, here in the quiet darkness, where they can’t hear me.
I beam upon the children as they grow. I gaze fondly at the women, as they watch their men ride off on their bikes, disappearing around a dusty corner and leaving them behind, alone, vulnerable to anything that might happen or anyone that might show up.
The women are strong, though. I don’t worry about them too much.
They don’t need those men.
Grace, with her spine of steel. She remains calm in the mightiest of storms.
Frankie, Diana, Donna, Sophia, Jackie, Daisy, Libby and even Lucky, some of whom are rarely around — they’re all so strong and real and good-hearted.
And then there’s Lacey, always there for anyone, offering up a gentle smile and a soft, reassuring voice. It’s lovely to see her take up the reins with Grace, now that my beloved Cherry has left. I dearly miss Cherry’s bellowing voice and bouncing copper curls. She greeted each morning with such profound optimism and enthusiasm, that it was almost contagious to an old cynic like myself.
I can’t help being that way. I’ve just seen so much.
Not just from this perspective, either, but before — before I was banished to live this hellish existence.
So much has gone down. So much has been lost.
And still, tonight, on Halloween, when the veil between the dead and the living is thinnest, the Gods of Chaos Motorcycle Club celebrate under the kindly October moon.
Hanging heavy in the sky, it bathes us in its warm amber glow. From the lowest branch of a nearby pine, our two beloved owls, Oliver and Olivia, watch with huge blinking eyes that match the splendid radiance of the moon.
The Gods gather around the huge bonfire — one of many over the years — as if it were a temple they regularly visited to worship some ancient fire God.
Monstrous flames roar and spit sparks, dancing and teasing some ritualistic dance of death, the red and orange tentacles growing closer, as if the fire were reaching out, teasing them with the threat of the harm it could do.
That magnificent blaze possesses the power to create ghosts out of Gods.
But it won’t.
Instead, it stays contained. As if it knows the Gods are good, like it knows its own place in their world is to empower them, to warm them, to nourish them with strength, but to keep back far enough that it doesn’t harm them.
It’s a little like me, as I linger here in my sanctuary in the shadows, pretending I belong, but knowing it’s not really true, knowing the damage I could do if I lifted that veil.
On this night, they provide quite the entertaining show for me. Jeremiah is dressed up like his father, wearing a tiny little custom made cut of his own and little Levi’s and black boots. A few of the ladies are dressed up, too. Lacey’s a clown and Grace and Ryder and their baby are all dressed up as pumpkins.
It’s adorable and enough to melt my stone-cold heart.
A slow smile spreads across my face as Slade starts his usual posturing and showing off, begging someone to fight with him — his, and my, favorite game when they are all gathered.
Most people would ask for a hug from a loved one, but he wants the pain instead. Like me, he understands that the pain is the one thing that keeps him alive.
Being able to feel. To hurt. To suffer without breaking…
Because once you’re broken, you’re just gone.
After that, it’s all pretend.
A broken God can’t be put back together.
A broken God is a dead God.
CHAPTER ONE
EVIE
“Alright now, you’re going to be a good boy, right?” Slade knelt down and looked his son, Jeremiah, in the eye. Somberly, his little boy nodded.
“Good boy,” Slade said, nodding back. Jeremiah was the spitting image of his daddy, minus the tattoos slathered on every inch of Slade’s skin. They were even both missing a front tooth. “Now, Mama and I are only going to be gone about a week and Auntie Evie is going to take good care of you while we’re gone.”
I watched from the corner and I couldn’t help the tears that sprang to my eyes. My sister, Diana, nervously fluttered around in the background, making sure I had every item I could possibly need while they were gone. I’ve watched Jeremiah countless times before, but never for an entire week.
We’ll both be fine, though. Jeremiah loves me, and God knows I love him. I’d do anything for that boy, and Diana and Slade know that. Otherwise, they’d never leave him alone with me for a week.
I’m honored they trust me that much, but to be honest, I wouldn’t really trust anyone else, either.
“You listen to Aunt Evie, too, you hear me, boy?” Slade said. “You do anything she tells you to do.”
“I will, Daddy,” Jeremiah said, his big blue eyes filling with tears. “I’ll miss you.” He threw his arms around Slade’s neck, tears falling down his big apple cheeks.
“Hey now, no crying, buddy,” Slade said, pulling him back and peering into his eyes. “Listen to me, as soon as we get back, we’ll go for a ride, okay?”
“Really?” Jeremiah’s face lit up.
“Yes, son, really,” Slade nodded. “But you have to be a good boy. Can you do that?”
“I’m always a good boy,” he laughed.
“You’re right, you are,” Slade laughed, standing up. Jeremiah clung to his legs, as he ruffled his messy blonde hair. “You ready, Mama?”
Diana put down her pen and nodded. “I think so. I wrote down our cell phone numbers, Grace and Ryder’s numbers, Jeremiah’s doctor’s number and the vet, just in case Oliver and Olivia have some kind of emergency. You never know.” Diana shrugged, biting her lip. “I think that’s everything.”
“I have all those numbers in my phone already,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Just go, you guys! Everyone’s waiting for you! Hawaii is waiting for you!”
For the first time, all the Gods had decided to take a vacation together.
For the last six months, Slade and Diana had been busy renovating a small, long-abandoned Victorian that stood on the Gods property, just a short mile’s hike away from the God’s clubhouse. Ryder’s dad, one of the first presidents, did live there for a short while, before he built the original clubhouse for the club. Now, many decades later, the clubhouse had grown into many buildings and the Gods operated out of a thriving little compound.
But once Diana saw the tiny little abandoned house, sitting peacefully in the middle of the secluded forest, she convinced Slade it would be fun to restore it. She was tired of her condo in the Pearl in Portland and wanted a little more privacy than the clubhouse provided every now and then. She’d always wanted to fix up an old house, and it had proven to be just the bonding experience she and Slade needed. Now that it was all finished, a vacation was just the thing they needed after focusing on nothing but the renovation for so long.
They kissed Jeremiah goodbye and reluctantly loaded up and drove away, leaving Jeremiah and I alone. We stood on the front porch, watching Slade’s truck disappear around the corner, his hand in mine.
“Well, it’s just us now,” I said. “That going to be okay with you?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Good. We’re going to be just fine, Jeremiah,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
“I won’t. Unless a monster shows up.”
“A monster?” I laughed. “Monsters aren’t real, sweetie. And Halloween’s over. So nobody will be dressed like one, either.”
“Monsters are real,” he said, his little face so serious.
“They are? Why do you say that?”
“Because Daddy said they’re real,” he said. “But he said they don’t look like monsters. They just look like regular people. So, you never really know.”
“Oh.”
Leave it to Slade to give the kid a big dose of terrifying reality at such an early age.
“So, then you could be a monster?” I asked, raising a brow.
He laughed and shook his head.
“I’m not a monster!”
“Well, that’s good,” I said. “But wait, that means I could be a monster!”
He laughed even harder, his little blue eyes lighting up. “You’re not a monster, Aunt Evie!”
“Okay, well, if I’m not a monster, and you’re not a monster, then I think we’re safe. What do you think?”
He nodded and looked around and then looked back up at me, nodding firmly. “We’re okay.”
I stared down at him, then looked over at the thick wilderness surrounding the cabin. It may have been an absolutely adorable house, on a gorgeous lot, but it was completely secluded in the middle of nowhere. Even the closest residence, the God’s clubhouse and it’s surrounding homes, would be totally deserted for the next week.
“Don’t be afraid,” Jeremiah said, lifting his chin. I smiled down at him, shaking my head.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I said. “I promise not to be afraid, if you do, too.”
“Deal!”
“Okay, then, what should we do, now that your folks are gone?”
“Eat ice cream!”
“Ice cream?”
“Yes!”
“Well, that sounds great,” I said.
“I have to tell you the truth, though,” he said, growing serious, his little five year-old face crinkling up. “I’m only supposed to have it for special occasions.”
“Oh!” I said, smiling. “Well, if this isn’t a special occasion, I don’t know what is.”
“Yay!” he shouted.
“I’ll race you to the kitchen!” I said, laughing as he ran behind me.
CHAPTER TWO
HAWK
One by one, they all loaded into the vehicles and drove away, disappearing around the bend of the dirt road. The only things left behind were a long line of Harley Davidson’s stretched in front of a bunch of empty cabins. And approximately one mile away, through a thick blanket of towering pines and oaks, they’d also left behind two beloved possessions — Evie and Slade’s boy, Jeremiah.
Left alone, they were tucked away safely in the old cabin. The very cabin that I possessed a sordid, painful history with.
A history I rarely allowed in my thoughts these days.
The Gods needed a vacation, of course, so I wasn’t surprised to see them leave. I’d never seen them take any substantial amount of time off, at least not since they started Solid Ground, so it was time for a break. I was surprised to see them leave Evie and Jeremiah behind, but I suppose it makes sense.
I’m certainly not complaining.
The boy is a delight to behold.
And I’d be a fool to complain about having Evie in my sights. She’s a vision straight from heaven. A classic beauty, with long, flowing blonde hair and big, bright, blue eyes. Add in her curvy, toned frame and it all makes her a pleasure to gaze upon.
She doesn’t come around much. Perhaps a few times since Slade and Diana started renovating the old house.
But I’ll be honest.
I’ve been intrigued with her since I first laid eyes on her, if I’m being quite frank. She looks just like my beloved Catherine, it’s almost uncanny.
Now, that I have a chance to get to know her better, I’m beyond pleased.
Just the three of us…that thought alone is enough to give me goosebumps.
All alone out here, in the middle of our own little rainy paradise.
Well, anything could happen…
And to me, it is most definitely paradise here.
This shadowy, misty, moss-blanketed expanse of the sprawling hills of the Tillamook Forest is my sanctuary.
My home.
Church, really…
In autumn, the forest is a messy mixture of soggy and muddy. You can get lost in that, if you let yourself. The biting cold will leave you shivering and shaking, hurrying back to the warmth of your hearth, hurrying away from the uncomfortableness of these unforgiving elements.
But, if you just stop…
Pause.
For one long second…
If you just take a breath, inhale the sweetness of the air, and allow the trees to wrap around you with their dancing embrace, you can see the beauty, the sacredness…
You can feel it.
You can become it.
For a fraction of a second, you’ll see the pure magic of death.
The power of finality.
If you let them, the trees will show you the beauty of letting go of all the dead things that cling to you. Watch their leaves falling gracefully through the air, falling in your path.
They’ll show you the strength you possess — just like them — existing under all of that unnecessary baggage you carry around. Like the branches that stand just as strong when they are bare, you too can be that way.
Just lay it down.
Let it all go, let it fall to your feet and nourish the ground you walk on, build your foundation with those painful lessons of your past.
There’s so much to see there, if you really look.
Not just the trees…not just the leaves, ever-crunching underfoot.
Embrace, too, the falling misty rain, leaving diamonds in your hair, only to disappear as soon as you touch them.
Let the brisk air refresh you, let the towering pines dance around you, as if you are all celebrating your existence together, as one.
Dance, dance with those trees, fold yourself into their branches and let them love you right back.
Let the rain cleanse you, as the
drops puddle briefly at your feet, slipping away into the Earth.
It’s simple, really.
The message of the forest.
Live with the dead.
Honor them.
And then, may you happily die with them.
CHAPTER THREE
EVIE
“Goodnight, sweet boy,” I whispered, kissing Jeremiah’s forehead as gently as possible. Carefully, I untangled myself from his tiny body and rose from his bed. Tonight he’d insisted I stay until he fell asleep. For a moment, I stood over him, watching him breathe.
Diana was a lucky woman, I thought.
She deserved it, though. I’d only known her a few years now, but she’d done nothing but show me what a wonderful person she is, time and time again. She was so great, it made me furious with our dead father for not telling me I had a sister. I’d only found out after he’d passed away and I mourned the lost years every single day.
At least I have her now, though. And Jeremiah, too. Even Slade was family, at this point. Hell, he’d saved my life, he was definitely family.
Of course, the first time I ever laid eyes on him, I never would have expected I’d ever consider a man like him family. Locked in a basement with several other women, I was terrified we’d all be killed at any moment by the crazed madman that had kidnapped us. But then Slade appeared out of nowhere, screaming and shrieking like a wild banshee in his insane interpretation of ‘speaking in tongues’, dancing around with a rattlesnake like some backwoods, gap-toothed, tattooed hillbilly.
Once I found out he was there to save us, I was shocked.
And extremely grateful.
We’d been fast friends ever since.
I was happy to be able to do anything to return the favor for both of them, even if watching Jeremiah was hardly repayment for anything. He was a delight.
But for now, he was fast asleep.
Which meant my time was now my own.
I crept away from his bed, the floorboards straining underfoot, creaking loudly as I made my way to the door. I closed it gently behind me, turning the knob as slowly as I could. This old house was loud, from the doorknobs, to the stairs, to the floors, making it almost impossible to move quietly.