Vindication: A Motorcycle Club Romance

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Vindication: A Motorcycle Club Romance Page 3

by Valentine, Sienna


  Bridget didn’t stop. “Funny, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  “I didn’t even get to ask any questions about you,” said Ghost. He paced alongside her as they passed the quiet front desk, under the lobby chandelier. “What’s your favorite Pokémon? Mine’s Squirtle, but lately I’ve really been feeling the Charizard hype.”

  “I’m actually shocked you know what Pokémon is,” Bridget chuckled as the automatic doors opened before them.

  “I know a lot of things,” said Ghost. “But what I really want to know is when I can take you out for dinner. Somewhere really fancy, because I can already tell you’re going to look amazing in an expensive dress that will look equally amazing on my bedroom floor.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Bridget. Part of her actually seized up in excitement at his proposal, though. He was blazingly handsome—big blue eyes in a boyish face, shaved head, a thick moustache and beard of dirty blond hair, that body—and she couldn’t help but feel disarmed at his incredibly goofy charm. Still, her knee-jerk reaction was a hard no to a guy like him. She’d been around enough soldiers to know they were nothing but trouble, especially ones who liked it.

  And everything about Ghost told her instinct that he liked it very, very much.

  “Of course I’m not kidding! Have you really never worn a fancy dress?”

  “That’s not—”

  “Because frankly, that’s weird, and you should probably ask your parents about that sometime.”

  “I meant you’ve got to be kidding if you think I’m going to go on a date with you.” She stopped on the sidewalk outside the circular driveway where residents were dropped off and met Ghost’s face. He never seemed to stop smiling—even when his lips weren’t, his eyes were. It was terribly endearing, but she held her ground.

  “Not kidding even a little,” he said. “I can’t pass up the chance at a woman like you.”

  “I don’t remember saying you had a chance,” said Bridget.

  Ghost’s smile widened. He didn’t reply. He just stood there, grinning at her like an idiot. His gaze slowly wandered up and down her body, and when she felt a flushed heat creeping up her skin and face from his scrutiny, Bridget growled and turned to head for her car.

  “If you follow me to my car, I’ll mace your eyes out,” she said. “You won’t be looking at any titties—Photoshopped or otherwise—for a long time.” Her boots clacked on the pavement and she didn’t look back.

  From behind her, Ghost called out, “Okay, sounds good! Pick you up at eight, then?”

  ~ THREE ~

  Ghost

  Ghost was already three beers deep by the time Jase Campbell and Will Bowers showed up to the Black Dogs clubhouse that night. Granted, the first two he had shotgunned in a competition with Tommy Castillo—which he had won, thank you very much—but he still chose to gloat about finally being on time over the Goody Two-Shoe Twins, for once.

  “Did you guys have a bromance date run late, or what?” said Ghost as the two moved around the tables in the clubhouse den toward the bar. One of the new recruits had taken up the bartending post, and he already had open beers stretching out to the bikers. Will asked for a shot of whiskey and took it.

  “You had all this extra time to think of something to say, and that’s the best you’ve got?” said Jase with a smirk.

  “Can it, Soupcan, I’m already drunker than you so I don’t have to be clever.”

  Will came up to Ghost’s right and took a seat with his beer. The MC’s spymaster looked tired, dark rings starting to form under his eyes, even if they were still glowing. Ghost asked him, “How’s the mini cupcake? Baking nicely?”

  Will gave him the half-smile he was famous for and took a drink of beer. Even though it was early in the process, Will had already become something of a nervous wreck about his impending fatherhood. “So far. Eva has another appointment next week, and we should be able to find out if it’s a boy or a girl. I think I’ll feel better once I have that information.”

  “I just hope it’s a puppy,” said Ghost, sighing wistfully.

  Jase slapped him on the back of the head as he sat at Ghost’s left, and Ghost immediately slapped him back on the shoulder as he lowered himself into the chair. “Shut up, dickhead.”

  “What? It is technically the next generation of Black Dogs.”

  “Not if it’s a girl,” said Will with a chuckle. “And God help me if she looks like her mother.”

  “Speaking of girls,” said Ghost, leaning back in his chair and throwing his boots on the tabletop, “I met the most perfect one ever created today.”

  Jase and Will both groaned together and took a swig of beer. Ghost ignored them and continued.

  “Her name is Bridget, and she is made of sugar and spice and I assume some sort of Viking blood, if I had to guess. “

  “Where’d you meet this perfect woman?” asked Jase with a raised eyebrow.

  “The same place everyone meets their perfect woman: at the old folks’ home.”

  Jase and Will laughed and shook their heads. “You can’t be serious,” said Will.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” said Jase.

  “She’s not an old,” said Ghost with a snotty voice. “She’s Sid Dawson’s granddaughter.”

  “Oh, shit, you mean that old dude who knew Marty?” asked Jase. “I think I’ve met her before at the Legion. If I remember, she was a stone cold fox.”

  “I’ve always said you have a beautiful memory,” said Ghost to Jase, rubbing the tip of his foot along Jase’s arm teasingly. Jase swatted it away. “She is, indeed, a stone cold fox. And she’s got some kick to her, too. I asked Sid to tell me about her after she left, and when he said she was ex-Marine, woo boy…” He pretended to fan himself. “Almost passed out from blood-flow-related biological functions right then and there.”

  “So she’s a super-hot lady, and she’s a Marine?” Jase scoffed and took a drink of his beer. “I give you a fucking week before she breaks your neck between her thighs.”

  “If you’re lucky,” said Will.

  “Dude, that would be the most legendary and spectacular death a warrior could ask for,” said Ghost, pointing hard at Jase. “And you fucking put my casket on parade if that’s how I die. You make sure every asshole in this town knows how it went down!”

  “Seriously, though, I wouldn’t mess with her if you’re just gonna blow her off like the rest of them,” said Jase. “Sid and Douglas are still close. You could cause tension.”

  “Don’t you worry about Sid, we’re tight. He’s totally fine with it.”

  “You asked him?”

  “It’s implied!” said Ghost with a shrug and a raise of his palms. “Implied by our magnificent friendship.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “You’re an idiot. At least I got laid today.”

  “I’m married to Maggie Oliver. I get laid every day.”

  “Wait, you already fucked the Viking chick?” interrupted Will.

  Ghost waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, no, I fucked one of the nurses at the old folks home.”

  Will laughed and exchanged a glance with Jase. “And was this before or after you met the most perfect woman ever?”

  “Before, obviously. Like, ten minutes before? Who can remember; life before Bridget is just a blur.”

  They laughed and threw out disbelieving insults at him. Jase said, “Doesn’t that sound, I dunno… a little insincere to you?”

  “Psh,” said Ghost. “That’s just bangin’. Bridget isn’t that. I can feel it.”

  “You’re sure it’s not just a hard-on you’re feeling?” said Will with a sarcastic smirk.

  “You can put your hands down my pants and investigate for yourself, Will Nye the science guy,” said Ghost, shifting in his chair to offer his crotch to Will. Will stuck out a boot and kicked his legs closed with a laugh.

  Talk quickly devolved into man-child prodding until the conference room door on the second floor
swung open, and Henry Oliver came out with heavy steps. He’d been gaining weight in the last few years, doing what he could to fight it, but he was still a big man no matter what he tried. He leaned over the bannister and waved a meaty hand at them. “Boys, let’s get this going. I’ve got dinner reservations.”

  “Well, aren’t you fancy!” Ghost called out as he threw his feet on the floor.

  Henry only grumbled under his breath and went back into the conference room. Ghost exchanged glances with Jase and Will, all of them wondering the same thing: Fuck, what’s got the boss moody?

  Single-file, they tromped up the stairs and into the conference room. Douglas Dillon, the club’s VP, was already seated at Henry’s right hand. Tommy Castillo, the newest member to the table, was also waiting, and Ghost couldn’t help but lean over and start poking him when he saw how straight and proper Tommy was sitting.

  “You tryin’ to be teacher’s pet, huh?” said Ghost as he jabbed at Tommy’s neck and arms. Tommy grunted and swore through the involuntary laughter, trying to wiggle out of Ghost’s way. “Go shine his apples!”

  “Ghost, just sit the hell down,” said Henry, exasperated. He didn’t even look over, just sat leaning back in his chair like he wanted to sink into the floor.

  Ghost wrinkled his nose like he smelled something sour and took his seat between Jase and Tommy. “Real party weekend in here, I see.”

  Henry ignored him. Once Will closed the door and took his seat, Henry twirled in his chair at the head of the table and began speaking without looking directly at any of his men. “We’ve got a bit of a problem that needs addressing, boys. We just got word from the charter in Eagleton. They’re in a bad way and need our help to get out of it.”

  Tommy and Ghost looked at each other and groaned. They shared a mutual hatred of the charters from the big cities. Jase glared at him from across the table, but Ghost just stuck his tongue out. Henry either didn’t notice, or chose to ignore it.

  “Right now, they are down to the absolute D-list on their ranks. They’ve had a run of bad luck that’s put more than a few guys out of commission, either doing time or healing up from something physical. It’s starting to affect their ability to take jobs and, in turn, their profits. They’ve asked for our help to fill in the gaps temporarily.”

  “Poor, rich city boys finally need us, huh?” said Ghost, leaning back in his chair. “I say we leave them a flaming bag of shit and nothing else.” Next to him, Tommy tried to hide his laughter.

  “Ghost,” said Jase with a heavy look. No one ever said it out loud, but Jase was definitely the club babysitter, stepping in between Ghost’s charm and the less patient members of the MC when needed.

  It drove Ghost nuts. He hated the feeling that anyone was trying to rein him in, or make him behave somehow other than how he wanted. But there was nothing new about that feeling; everyone did it to him. “Just foolin’ around, obviously,” he said in a dramatic voice. “Other charters are great and totally not full of jagweeds! We should help.”

  Henry dragged his gaze over Ghost for a silent, tense moment before he began again. “It’s not just their profits that are affected. If we don’t get them out of the hole now, eventually it’s going to hurt traffic in the corridor. So what we’re going to do is send a contingent group of Dogs up to Eagleton to help them out with their next delivery.”

  “What are they running up there again—AKs?” asked Will, scratching at his copper-colored scruff.

  Henry nodded. “And some assorted small arms. This run is a regular thing for them. It’s longer than ours typically are, but sounds like a pretty straightforward run from the city out to Burling.”

  Ghost raised his eyebrows. “Burling?”

  Henry glanced over a sheet of paper scribbled with notes on the table in front of him. “It’s a small border town, but apparently it’s a useful drop point because of its location on the highway. Regardless, you won’t be there long. No hanging around the town after the drop is made.”

  “So what’s the plan?” said Jase to Henry.

  “I wanted to gather you here to get volunteers first thing. The job is simple, but because none of us are familiar with Eagleton’s route, there’s an added risk factor to take into account. Volunteers first, and then I’ll make requests to fill the gaps after that. The job will have a slight pay raise, too.”

  Ghost lifted his hand and impatiently started grunting. “Oh, me! Henry, me. I want to. I’ll do it. Henry.”

  “Calm down, Ghost,” said Henry, waving his hand without looking from Jase. “I automatically put your name on the top of the list for any dangerous job.”

  Ghost sat back in his seat, satisfied. “Yes.”

  “I’ll go,” said Jase.

  “Same,” added Will. “Extra money for the nursery would be great.”

  “I want to go,” said Tommy. “I haven’t done a job outside of the corridor yet.”

  “Good idea,” said Douglas, pointing down the table. “Get your connections with the other charters established now, Tommy. You’ll be glad for them down the road.”

  “All right,” said Henry. “The four of you should be a fine enough group to pad their ranks for now. We don’t have any big jobs on the horizon, anyway, so this is the perfect time to lose all of you for a few days. Just get a hold of me if things turn out to be in worse condition than we thought.”

  “Is that something you’re afraid of?” asked Will.

  Henry shook his head, but his expression didn’t quite match it. “You just never know how things are going to look until you get there. Keep me informed. Jase, you’ll be the leader of this three-ring circus.”

  “Got it,” said Jase.

  “You boys need to be in Eagleton in three days.”

  ~ FOUR ~

  Bridget

  As Bridget laid another paper on top of the ever-growing pile on her coffee table, she felt a sense of despondence sink down on her like a wet wool coat. It felt like she wasn’t making any headway at all; like all the energy she was expending today was just evaporating into the atmosphere. She had really hoped to relax and untangle the growing dread in her mind over the weekend, but life just wasn’t playing along like she wanted. Already the sun was on its way down. The day had escaped her somehow.

  She moved the pile of yet-ungraded papers off her lap and carefully capped her red pen, putting them both in a neat pile on the coffee table. The coffee in her mug was already more cold than hot, but she drank it anyway. It didn’t improve her mood. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes in deep circles, trying to conjure back some little bit of energy and focus. The papers weren’t challenging, but the student’s answers were starting to blend together.

  This happened sometimes. Her concentration would fade once the warning bells in her head, the ones she’d earned from becoming a solider, had been set off. Those bells had kept her alive and in one piece when she found herself in unexpectedly dangerous situations overseas, but back home, they only made life more complicated. For the first few years back, Bridget had felt out of place, like she was a wolf among sheep. But time and experience had changed her view; she realized there were more wolves at home than anyone ever wanted to admit. Danger hadn’t stayed in the desert. It stalked everyone, all the time, no matter where they were. Maybe she was still broken somehow, but she figured everyone was, in some way. At least her problems kept her relatively safe, if lonely.

  But she couldn’t put her finger on what was setting off the bells this time. It was something distant and far-away, something blurry.

  Bridget kept her own life squared away very neatly. She’d been a teacher at The Academy of Il Santo della Florentina for almost six years now, and had established herself in the community as a capable and trustworthy educator. It only took a year or two to realize there wasn’t a single man in her social circles in LeBeau worth wasting her time on romantically. The ones she could stomach were already taken, and the rest never could settle with the fact that she was a soldier, a
Marine, and had probably already lived a far more dangerous life than they ever would themselves. So instead, she kept a very small social circle of colleagues who always remained at a safe distance from the solitude of her home. She took care of herself, and of Gramps, the only family she still had around here.

  No, the danger wasn’t to her. She ran a tight ship. But someone else was sending out distress signals, and Bridget was picking them up.

  Bridget took a few deep breaths, trying to clear her head. She picked up her phone and thumbed through her contacts until she reached the Shadyside Retirement Community. They had a private line for family of residents to address concerns with a liaison. The one assigned to Gramps was called Bonnie, and she was the one who picked up Bridget’s call.

 

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