Ghost and Tommy exchanged wide-eyed glances and muffled smiles. Ghost didn’t know why he couldn’t take Lucero seriously. Not that he took anything seriously, really, but he especially didn’t take dudes who tried too hard to be tough very seriously. And that thick Kentucky drawl wasn’t helping matters. It didn’t make Lucero sound stupid, but it made him sound even more dramatic than his words did.
“Not a problem,” said Jase. When Ghost looked over, Jase was giving him that look. Ghost pursed his lips and blew Jase a kiss, and his friend just rolled his eyes and shoved an eggroll in his mouth.
Scott worked with Ghost and Tommy to get the walkie-talkie headsets set up in their helmets after dinner. It was just a simple Bluetooth-style earpiece that linked to a wire, which clipped onto their cuts, and held the switch for the talk button. They would be able to hear all the chatter passively and only had to flip the switch to be heard by everyone in both vans. This way, if anyone ran into trouble, the entire cavalry could work to respond together instead of leaving half the convoy stranded.
The Eagleton Dogs left for home early, and it was strange for the LeBeau Dogs to be in such an empty, quiet clubhouse setting. Their own clubhouse was rarely empty for long; someone was always around to have a beer or shoot some pool with. The wooden décor was warm and inviting, and the house mouses… well, they could make any man feel welcome. The Eagleton clubhouse had modern cleanness, sharp-angled furniture, and big ceilings where the shadows could gather. But without the boisterous laughter and shenanigans of the men who belonged in it, there was nothing to chase them away. It probably felt like a much better, brighter place when they were at full strength. But right now, it was a graveyard.
As he sat on the edge of the cot that would serve as his bed for the night, Ghost listened to the silence and felt sad. He didn’t realize it before, how much different the clubhouse at home might feel without all the men and women who made it what it was. It’d feel much like this place: empty, cold, haunted. This was what it felt like without caring people around.
“This place is creepy,” said Tommy, echoing his feelings. The young gun was standing at the small sink of the auxiliary kitchen upstairs, shirtless, filling up a kettle so he could make some tea. Tommy didn’t sleep well in unfamiliar places.
Ghost laughed to himself. “Just let your worries drift away on the soothing sounds of Jase’s snoring.” He thumbed behind him to the dark bedroom where Will and Jase had already crashed, claiming the actual beds for themselves as senior Dogs and leaving Tommy and Ghost to the cots.
Tommy laughed hard. “Does Maggie really put up with that?”
“He’s gotta have a magic wang or something,” said Ghost. “ ‘Cause otherwise, I don’t get it.”
Tommy waited patiently for the kettle to boil while Ghost slowly made himself ready for the night, setting his boots neatly near the end of the cot, and folding his clothes in a pile next to them. He removed both his firearms, and all five of his blades, and set them in a straight line just beneath his cot, close enough that he could lean over the edge and reach any of them.
He lay back on the cot in his boxers and flipped through his phone, bored. His thoughts began to drift to Bridget, and Ghost made a groaning sound and adjusted his legs. Fuck, it sure didn’t take much to get him going when it came to her.
“What’s that?” said Tommy, pouring his steeped tea into an ugly brown mug.
“Nothing, dear,” said Ghost. “Don’t forget to take your blood pressure medication.”
Tommy just snickered and shook his head. Ghost loved the hell out of Tommy. He never gave him a hard time about his jokes.
Attention falling back to his phone, Ghost got an urge. For a moment, he resisted, but his resistance couldn’t last long. He pulled up a new text message to Bridget.
I just wanted you to know that even in a room full of snoring, ugly, hairy dudes, I can get my engine revved just thinking of you.
Ghost waited a few anxious minutes, waiting for her smartass response, but it didn’t come. He frowned and realized maybe that wasn’t the best first text to send to a woman who didn’t actually have his phone number until now. He probably looked like some sort of Craigslist serial killer.
This is Ghost, by the way. In case you have many men attracted to you who also sleep in rooms with other men.
Minutes passed with no response, and Ghost started to feel bummed. He didn’t know why he felt so eager to have her spar with him, but he did. Her fiery tongue made him feel alive, and once he started thinking about having an exchange with her, he couldn’t get it out of his mind.
“Hey, here,” said Tommy as he came across the tile floor with a second mug of tea. He held it out to Ghost with a smile. “My abuela’s recipe.”
“I thought chamomile tea was, like, the most British thing that existed,” said Ghost. He put his phone down and accepted the hot mug in both hands.
“It’s not just chamomile tea,” said Tommy with a sip.
Ghost followed suit and instantly started coughing from the surprising mix of tea, alcohol, and spices he didn’t have the palate to identify. Yet the warmth that cascaded down his chest was heavenly. “Oh, abuela, you beautiful creature of heaven. This is what she gives you to get you to sleep?”
“Not every night, but it helps,” said Tommy. He was already halfway done with his.
“It’s pretty goddamn good. You’ll have to share the recipe.”
“I can only do that if you kill a wild, uncircumcised bull at dusk on the solstice.”
“What?” said Ghost. “Seriously?”
Tommy laughed so loud, Ghost was surprised neither of the others woke up. “No, just fucking with you! Got you, though.”
“Is this my Dr. Frankenstein moment, when I regret the monster I’ve created?” said Ghost as Tommy sat down on the cot next to him. A few minutes passed in silence as they enjoyed the warmth of the brew.
Tommy took a big sip of his tea. “I thought our job was going to be a little more exciting,” he said with a bit of a frown.
“Eh, me too,” said Ghost. “But, let’s be honest, the club probably wouldn’t last very long if we were having shootouts every other week.”
“I’m not even that good of a shot yet,” said Tommy. He was already yawning.
“We’ll get you there, don’t worry. But tomorrow’s just gonna be a drive, some quick cash, and then back home for some victory pussy,” said Ghost.
Tommy just laughed and shook his head as he took Ghost’s empty mug with his own back to the sink. Ghost lay back on his cot and got settled for sleep while Tommy cleaned up the kitchen.
He had almost started to nod off when he remembered his text and decided to check his phone one last time.
There was a message from Bridget:
I’m all for adventure in the bedroom, but can we just start with me getting used to your snoring, ugly, hairy self before we bring in all your boyfriends?
Ghost laughed, but when Tommy tried to see what was so funny on his phone, Ghost kept it away from him until Tommy finally gave up trying to crawl all over him to see. Frustrated, Tommy huffed and shut out the lights.
~ EIGHT ~
Ghost
The Eagleton Dogs arrived bright and early, a good half-hour before the sun could be seen through the building spires. The smell of greasy fast-food breakfast wafted like a tempting fog through the clubhouse and up to the cots where Ghost and Tommy still hung on to the last gasps of sleep, random limbs hanging off the sides. Once he started hearing the crinkle of the paper bags, Ghost’s stomach rumbled too loudly for him to ignore anymore. Tommy was the last to get up.
When Ghost came down the stairs and saw Will already into the Arts section of the Eagleton Tribune and halfway through an egg and cheese muffin, he shook his head accusingly. “You fucking nerd.”
Will frowned at him, and then looked at the front of the paper like he didn’t understand. Ghost sat across from him at the stark white table in his boxers and t-shirt, rubbing
the sleep out of his eyes. Rick was making a giant pot of coffee at the kitchenette, and Shaun paced near the front door on his cell phone.
Ghost nodded toward Shaun and asked Rick, “Everything squared this morning?”
Rick glanced over at his boss as he set out coffee mugs on the table. “Yeah, fine. Just last-minute checks on things. Shit can change quickly around here.”
“I hear that. Where are your other bros?”
“Lucero’s around here somewhere. I think Scott is making his checks of the walkies for you and Castillo.”
“Magical.” Ghost dug into one of the paper bags and wrapped his hand around the first hot sandwich he felt. Jase and Tommy came trudging down the stairs a few minutes later, fully dressed, just as Rick poured the coffee.
“How’s everyone feeling this morning?” asked Will of his collected brothers.
Jase and Tommy both grumbled, neither of them big fans of early rising; Jase would get his shit together after his coffee and some push-ups, and Tommy just needed food. Ghost hadn’t slept great, but that was nothing new. It felt like a good night’s sleep was the unrequited love of his life, but he’d mostly learned how to operate anyway. The plus side was that he truly enjoyed the atmosphere of mornings, so being up this early didn’t bother him a bit. The quiet of dawn felt exciting and hushed, a lot like the quiet right before a bomb dropped.
“C’mon, lads, buck up!” said Ghost. He nudged Jase with his elbow, but Jase’s bulkier form barely budged. He made a noise like a growling bear. “Weather forecast looks great. We might even see some hot co-eds in their convertibles up to no good.”
“Already done with the Viking chick, huh?” said Will without looking up from his paper.
“I said see. Not touch, not tickle, certainly not lick.”
Shaun came over to the table, his call ended, and put a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Morning, guys. Everyone sleep okay?”
Answers rumbled from around the table. Shaun said, “I’ve got green lights from all of my sources at the DOT and Highway Patrol. We can get this show on the road as soon as everyone is prepped and ready.”
“Scott’s still out with the walkies,” said Rick.
“I’m gonna go check on him,” said Shaun. He pointed at the food. “You boys have at that, get full. We’ve already had ours.”
“Shit yeah,” said Tommy as he dove in for seconds.
“I’m gonna hit the head,” said Ghost, thumbing over his shoulder. “Can I get anyone anything?”
“From the bathroom?” said Rick.
“Just don’t engage,” said Will without looking up.
Ghost shrugged and got up from the table. He threw away his garbage and walked down the hallway until he found the men’s room. He pushed the door open and felt it hit wobbly, but hard resistance.
“Hey, fuck!” said a gruff, surprised voice.
“Let’s not both push at the same time,” said Ghost when the door didn’t budge. “Step back, Einstein.” It took a few moments, but finally Lucero stumbled back from the doorway and Ghost was able to enter.
“Fuck’s your problem?” said Lucero with a bitter anger that seemed to erupt out of nowhere.
Ghost gave him a confused look. “Physics, I guess? Maybe there needs to be an entrance and exit door on all bathrooms.”
“You think you’re such a fucking jokester, don’t you?” he said. When he took steps toward Ghost, there was something mean and ugly on his face, in his eyes. Something that hadn’t been there yesterday. Everything about the way he was standing, the way he was staring Ghost down, was predatory and aggressive, like he wanted a fight.
Ghost wasn’t taking the bait. Why would he? That egg muffin thing he had just eaten was delicious and he felt great. “Among other things,” he said, studying Lucero’s face. “Are you all right, man?”
“Just fuck off,” said Lucero. He turned away from Ghost in a huff and left the bathroom.
“Some people’s children,” said Ghost to himself, shaking his head.
The bathroom was small, a single stall next to a wall-mounted sink and mirror; he shuffled inside and shut the stall door. As he relieved himself, he saw something small and bright near his feet. He kicked it out with his socked toe. It looked like the torn remnants of blue and yellow plastic—balloons, maybe.
Ghost made a groaning noise as he finished up and flushed. “Fuck,” he said to himself. He bent down a little further to be sure of what he was looking at, but he already knew. Someone around here was a heroin junkie, and it was probably that suddenly angry asshole that just left the bathroom.
This was not good. He tried to tell himself that he didn’t know Lucero that well, and maybe the guy was just not a morning person. But he’d been around his share of junkies, heroin and otherwise, and he knew irrational and sudden rage was part of the package. So were desperate shoot-ups in public bathrooms, even after he’d probably already had a fix at home before he left.
Ghost used a knuckle to open the tiny metal trash bin on the wall of the stall. He was hoping the garbage was full and hadn’t been taken out in a while—that could mean these balloons had fallen out and were days or even weeks old, and he was probably worrying over nothing. He peeked inside and only saw a few wadded-up pieces of toilet paper and a torn condom wrapper.
“Fuck,” he said again, dropping the lid with a loud clank. It still didn’t mean for sure the balloons belonged to Lucero—but they very likely belonged to someone at the MC right now who was about to go on this run.
Ghost finished up in the restroom and headed upstairs without engaging anyone. He took a quick, cool shower and got dressed as he tried to decide what to do. As he pulled on his boots, he thought he should say something to Jase. He pulled him upstairs and into the spare bedroom as the others got prepared.
“I don’t know, man,” said Jase after Ghost was finished. He was clearly uncomfortable at the news. “Did you see him shooting up?”
“No, because then we wouldn’t be talking, because I wouldn’t need advice,” said Ghost. “But the stalls are pretty clean, man, and there aren’t that many dudes spending time here right now.”
“Could have been one of their ladies.”
“In the men’s room?”
“That’s not that weird.”
“Not that weird, but why are we looking for zebras instead of horses? Haven’t women been blamed for enough of men’s mistakes?” said Ghost with a dramatic hand gesture. Jase shook his head and laughed as he folded his arms.
“Okay, so if I believe you, then what?”
“Then…” Ghost sputtered and shrugged. “Then, I don’t know, get him off the run? Do we really want a heroin junkie calling any shots, even on a simple run?”
“I’m not sure we have that kind of authority,” said Jase. “And anyway, I’m not going to bring this to Shaun right now, right before we’re supposed to leave. Not when the only proof we have is some balloon trash and your gut feeling. We need everyone calm and focused.”
Something in Jase’s words stung Ghost. He blinked a few times at the unfamiliar sensation. “But what if I’m right?”
Jase was looking around now, making sure no one was hanging out by the slightly ajar bedroom door. “What if you are? This run doesn’t even have any stops, so it’s not like Lucero’s going to just disappear to shoot up in the middle of it. We finish it up and he can go back to his drugs or whatever, and we go home. It’s not our problem.”
Ghost was silent. Jase had a point, but it didn’t settle his instincts.
“And hell, we don’t know it wasn’t one of the house mouses. Just relax. Let’s get this done and get home and get you laid by your Viking chick; the lack of sex is making you paranoid,” said Jase with a smile. He clapped Ghost on the arm and turned to leave the bedroom.
Ghost lingered there, overcome with a bitterness he recognized, but had never felt so strongly before. He didn’t know why, but he just knew deep down that if he saw Jase’s face again in the next thirty seconds
, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from punching it. So he waited there alone in the dark until the feeling passed.
Ghost clicked the button hanging on a wire attached to his cut. He yelled to be heard over the wind and the engine of his bike. “Shaun, you really undersold the excitement of this drive! You could sell tickets!”
He couldn’t hear anyone’s laughter, since they had to purposely press their own walkie buttons to be heard, but Ghost just imagined they were all cracking up, anyway.
They were twenty miles outside of Burling, the last leg of the run, and Ghost thought he was going to die of boredom before they would make it. He’d never been to this western sliver of the state, and had no idea it was going to be a flat desert wasteland that stretched over the horizon without end. Traffic flowed smoothly with little clumping, mostly eighteen-wheelers or vehicles from nearby mining and industrial plants, caked with glittering white dirt. Ghost and Tommy rode side-by-side, a few car lengths back from the white panel van with Lucero and Will—as well as the guns—inside. The second half of the convoy carrying Jase and the Eagleton Dogs was back about ten miles behind.
Vindication: A Motorcycle Club Romance Page 7