Ghost looked softly at Miranda. “Mrs. Cary, would you mind terribly covering Toby’s ears for a moment?”
Miranda Cary trembled like a leaf in the wind, but she did as Ghost asked, and placed two gentle, shaking hands on the sides of her son’s head.
Ghost turned back to Cary with a darkness in his eyes Bridget had never seen—not on him, not on anyone. It was like Ghost had opened a black hole in his mind. “Now, listen closely, because I fucking hate repeating myself. This is an intervention. We’ve gathered all your dearest friends and family here because we’re sincerely concerned about how you’re a wife-beating piece of shit that deserves to be skinned alive and paraded through the town like a conquered warlord.”
Stephen Cary was speechless. Fear swarmed in his eyes, all over the lines on his face. Behind him, the bodyguard had gone pale.
Ghost came closer, and straightened the lapels on Cary’s jacket. Cary flinched, and Ghost’s smile was wicked as sin. “Oh, so you do understand. Excellent. This should go much smoother.”
Cary swallowed. His voice came out a stuttered monotone mess. “Wh-what the fuck do you want?” He couldn’t keep his eyes on Ghost. His brain was too busy trying to process the enormous amount of danger waiting just behind the already dangerous man in front of him. Stephen Cary was not a man who was used to feeling fear, and it was suffocating him.
Ghost looked into his eyes and made sure he was listening. “Here’s what you’re going to do, you ever-loving king of the jagweeds. You’re going to get in your swanky town car with your ugly bodyguard, and go back to your tacky faux-Renaissance mansion, and your hideous, greed-filled life. And you’re going to do it without Miranda or Toby.”
Cary’s eyes widened.
“And,” said Ghost, raising a finger, “You’re not ever going to look for them. Ever. They’re leaving you tonight, and it’s the last time you will ever have any contact with them for the rest of your miserable fucking life. We won’t fuck with you, and you can go back to whatever it is you spend your time doing. But if you try to contact them…” He lowered his face until he was inches away from Cary’s. “If you try to do a single fucking thing to retaliate against them, or anyone at this school… if you do anything other than disappear into a cloud of stinking regret…”
He turned around and looked at the gathered men at his back. Every single one of them drilled death into Stephen Cary and his bodyguard. Fists clenched; ugly smiles appeared; taunts floated through the air, begging one of them to try and resist what was happening.
Ghost bent down close to his ear. His words came out a dangerous whisper: “We will end you.”
Ghost slowly leaned back from Cary and watched the realization dawn over his face. He stared at Ghost, silent, afraid.
“My beautiful Valkyrie,” said Ghost to Bridget without looking. “I think we’re ready for the final phase.”
“Yes, sir,” said Bridget with a smile. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Muriel, who came scurrying from around the back of the school on foot with her handsome, clean-cut fiancée in tow. Both of them stopped in surprise when they saw the scene—especially her fiancée, who almost tripped as he cut across the grass because he couldn’t stop staring.
Together they came around to Miranda and Toby, who still huddled in fright next to Stephen. Muriel gently put her arms around Miranda, who in turn had her arms around Toby, and led her carefully away from the group. At first, Miranda hesitated, but Muriel talked softly to her.
“Keep your eyes on me,” she said, bending down to look in Miranda’s face. “Don’t look at him. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
Miranda kept her head down instead and immediately burst into sobs as she walked under Muriel’s arm away from her husband. Muriel’s fiancé bent down at the knee and talked gently to Toby for a moment, offering to pick him up. Toby accepted, and collapsed across the man’s broad shoulder, hugging him tightly. Bridget’s heart broke in her chest to see it. They whisked the family around the corner, to where Muriel’s vehicle was waiting to take them home.
“You’re a champ, Toby!” yelled Ghost after him. Then he turned back to Stephen and the bodyguard. “Well, looks like all that’s left to do is for you two ugly jerks to get the hell out of my sight. So step to it, before I decide that town car is just a little too scratch-less for my tastes.”
Both men hesitated until the bikers began to roll away from the car, allowing only the tiniest pathway to access the vehicle, standing feet apart from angry, silent Black Dogs. Cary jumped in the back seat and yelled at his bodyguard to drive, and they peeled out of the parking lot.
Henrietta let out a cry of joy and clapped her hands. She threw her arms around Bridget’s neck and hugged her. “It worked!” she cried.
Bridget hugged her back and felt warm relief, tears on her face. “I sure fucking hope so.”
“You are a wonderful teacher, Bridget. A wonderful woman. You saved him.”
As Ghost came up to her side, Bridget smiled at him. “Well, not exactly just me.”
“Hey, now,” said Ghost, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m just the trophy husband, I take no credit.” He wrapped an arm around Bridget’s waist and pulled her into him for a deep, loving kiss.
EPILOGUE
Bridget
Three Months Later
“Go farther!” yelled Ghost, and waved his hand. “Farther! Farther!”
Toby was laughing so hard, he could barely yell back. “I can’t go any farther!” He kicked the wooden fence to demonstrate.
Ghost held the football up in his right hand and shook his head. “You better learn how to high-jump pretty damn quick, kid, cause here comes the pain!” He tossed the ball and it made a disappointing end-over-end tumble to the middle of the yard between them. Toby doubled over in laughter.
“Hey, I’m strong, but I’ve never actually played this game,” he said. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled to Toby, “Did I do football right?”
“You’re supposed to throw it to me!” said Toby as he jogged to retrieve the ball and run back to Ghost.
“Well why the hell were you all the way by the fence then, if you were supposed to catch it?” He put his hands on his hips.
Toby laughed. “You told me to!”
“I don’t think that’s what happened at all,” said Ghost and ruffled his hair. “Why don’t you go see if your mom needs help?”
He took the football from Toby and watched him run off toward the adorable powder-blue prewar house of Marcella Castillo, Tommy’s abuela. The place was buzzing, and Toby dodged around a few of Tommy’s sisters setting up the barbeque spread on a picnic table, and slid past Jase at the grill, turning burgers with razor focus. Toby disappeared through the sliding back door.
“You suck at sports so hard, dude!” Tommy’s cheery voice came floating over from the patio deck. They were gathered to celebrate his arrival home, after long months of recovery in the hospital. They already had him propped up like a king in his wheelchair underneath a big sprawling deck umbrella, two beers and a plate of nachos laid out on a table in front of him.
“Yeah, let’s see you run one out!” said Ghost with a faux-mean nod. He pretended to toss the football Tommy’s way, but Tommy didn’t flinch.
“I can’t wait till I actually can,” said Tommy. “I can teach Toby a thing or two, unlike you.”
After spending a short little layover at the home of one of Bridget’s teacher friends, Muriel, it had ended up that the most ideal place for Miranda and Toby Cary to stay while they transitioned into independence was at the home of the Castillos. With Tommy still running well under full strength for months to come, Marcella would need help. Two of Tommy’s sisters still lived with them, and they were hard-working over-achievers who welcomed the opportunity to lighten Miranda’s burden, as well as their own. Toby was thriving in a home full of loving, affectionate women.
“You’ve got that right,” agreed Ghost. “You’re gonna be a great
role model for him. It was really sweet of abuela to take them in.”
“Are you kidding? We’re the lucky ones! My sisters will not stop pestering Miranda about clothes and shoes and makeup tricks. It’s like having their own fashion model around. They love her. And abuela says Toby is a very helpful little guy.”
Ghost smiled. “He’s a special dude, that’s for sure.”
They were interrupted by Jase’s announcement that the meat was ready. Like bees descending on a hive, people began to gather from inside the house and around the yard. Henry and Douglas stayed in their camping chairs at the edge of the patio, drinking beers and smoking their huge cigars, knowing someone would bring them food. Around the picnic table, Tommy’s sisters had already taken their seats, gorgeous visions in bright colors with long dark Spanish hair. Abuela hovered around the grill next to Jase, scolding him and slapping his hand away when he tried to interfere with the spices she was sprinkling.
Out of the house came Will, his arm finally out of the sling but still wrapped in a brace. With his left, he held the hand of Eva, his beautiful little cupcake of a wife whose tummy was very, very pregnant. Even though she was still a few months out, either her frame was deceivingly small, or Will had given her the gift of an obliviously large baby to birth. Still, she was radiant, and she kissed Ghost on the cheek when he helped her to the picnic table.
Jase’s wife, Maggie, came out behind them, carrying a giant bowl of potato salad to the table. When Ghost tried to stick his hand in it, she kicked him in the shins. “Hey! Out, motherfucker.”
“Ouch, fuck,” he said, and meant it. She’d nailed him right in the nerve. “I forgot you and Jase do self-defense training for foreplay.” Maggie laughed and flipped him the bird.
Miranda came out, holding Toby by the shoulders in front of her. To Ghost, they looked like completely different people. Miranda had gained some weight and color, and she didn’t seem to ever stop smiling. Even Toby was getting a little bit of a belly on him, his hair a bit lighter from extended time in the sun. He left his mother’s arms and came charging up to Ghost, growling like a dinosaur.
Ghost laughed and bent down to meet him, then picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. Toby kicked and squealed as Ghost spun him around a couple of times, until Ghost was too dizzy to keep going.
When he stopped, Bridget was standing there grinning at him and holding two open beers. “Are you about to throw up on me, honey?” she said with a wary face.
“If I did, would you still love me?” said Ghost with a fake hiccup.
“No, definitely not.”
“Ouch,” he said. “Did you hear that, T-Dog?”
“I heard it!” yelled Toby, upside down.
Bridget laughed. “Trade you the beer for the boy.”
“Sold!” said Ghost. He shook Toby around a few times for good measure before he dropped him on his feet. “Go fix me up a burger, would you, pal?”
“Yup!” he held up his hand until Ghost did the same, then slapped a high five and ran off for the burger line.
They watched him go with a chuckle. Ghost took the beer in one hand and wrapped the other around Bridget’s waist, pulling her close. She kissed him gently.
“You kinda saved that kid, Supergirl,” he said. “He’s never been happier.”
“We saved him,” she said. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Ghost kissed her deeply with one hand on the side of her face. The party seemed to melt away around them.
“What do you say we take a trip this summer?” he said. “After school gets out. I haven’t had a good old-fashioned road trip adventure in a while.”
Bridget’s eyes lit up. “Really? That sounds amazing!”
“It might get dangerous,” he said, grinding his hips into hers. “And sexy.”
“Oh, might?” she said with a fake snarl. “I’ll only go if it’s for sure both of those things.”
Ghost grinned and bit her lip. “That’s my girl.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bestselling author Sienna Valentine grew up in Canada and still lives there, spending her time reading and writing. Steamy romance has always been her favorite genre, and now finds that the only thing more satisfying than dreaming up her fantasies in the first place, is writing them down and being able to share them with others.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would to thank all of my wonderful readers who have given me a chance to live my dream of writing for a living. I hope that each book I write is better than the last so that I never disappoint you.
I would also like to thank my ARC and Beta readers that were very helpful in pointing out issues that my own eyes passed over after multiple edits. It’s so helpful having a group of wonderful women that are eager to read my sometimes unfinished and unpolished work and give me constructive feedback. You are all very patient and I appreciate every one of you!
And finally, I want to thank the members of my street team, Sienna’s Valentines. A wonderful group of women always willing to help spread the word about my new releases, help me Beta read my books, look at eye candy covers and help me pick the hottest guys, and just generally chat and have some fun! Look for us on Facebook, we’re always happy to welcome new members.
ALSO BY SIENNA
Slade
Kellan
Unplugged
Desperados
Sanctum (Black Dogs MC 1)
Retribution (Black Dogs MC 2)
With Aubrey St. Clair
Fighting for Salvation
Trust
Silver and Chrome (Christmas 2015)
For a special bonus, keep reading! For a limited time, I’ve included the entire copy of two of my other books to thank you for buying Vindication.
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~ ONE ~
Noah
I found her at a record store, thrusting her beautiful ass out to rifle through the dollar vinyl boxes that usually held old crooners from the 40s and 50s, or forgotten country acts that never left the dust of their hometowns. My mood was grim. A couple of young assholes had recognized me in my truck on the way over and thrown their half-finished can of energy drink at me as they raced by. The can didn’t hurt my truck, but impotent rage raced through my veins the rest of the drive, and by the time I got inside the record store, I was ready to take it out on someone.
Her ass curved out like a bell from a thin waist decorated with three studded belts. She tied a gingham shirt up and under her huge tits, cleavage peeking out from under a stack of silver necklaces of different lengths. A shock of short, bright red hair completed her edgy look, and when she stood upright and saw me staring at her, she smiled at me and licked at the lollipop she had in her mouth.
“Find what you’re looking for?” I asked her, eyes on her tits.
“I think I just might have,” she said. Her voice was a high-pitched, purring sound, and she wiggled her hips when she talked.
I stepped closer. Her chest and neck flushed with arousal, an effect I am all too used to having on women. At 6’1”, my height intrigues them from the start. But the cut muscles of my body, and the tattoos that decorate them, draw them in like moths around firelight. They know they are going to get burned, but they just can’t help themselves.
“Do you live nearby?” I asked.
She looked me up and down, a bit of fear in her eyes. But the smile on her lips said she liked it. “Uh-huh.” She bobbed the sucker in and out of
her mouth suggestively.
“Pick whatever you want out of there, and let’s get going,” I said, nodding toward the record box she had been searching through. I reached out and lightly caressed the meat of her thigh, and then I turned and headed for the front of the store, waiting.
In a rush she gathered up the records she had been considering and sauntered to the counter on her wedge platforms. I threw a fifty at the cashier after he rang her up and told him to keep the change.
I followed her to her apartment about three miles from the record store, sliding into the first parking stall I could find and keeping my hood up as I walked up to meet her. She waited with a grin on her face until I caught up, then took me by the hand and led me up a flight of stairs to her place.
Vindication: A Motorcycle Club Romance Page 19