“Why not?”
“Working with other charters is tricky. I’d never met any of these dudes, at least not more than once. Eagleton’s already down on their luck, and we were supposed to be up there to help them. I’m not an idiot—I knew going to Shaun with just my hunch was going to make me look bad and make the run sour. So I just decided to wait and… hope I was wrong.”
“And you weren’t wrong, is your implication.”
“I was not, no.”
“Continue.”
“I followed instructions from Jase and Shaun and checked out the mechanics on the vans and my own bike before we took off, and everything looked fine. The vans looked regularly serviced, and there wasn’t a single problem on the run up until the crash. Not with the suspension, nothing. We were twenty miles out from the drop zone when Tommy and I made our maneuver around the VW van to take up the fast lane next to them, and I had a good angle of Lucero in the driver’s seat from his side door mirror.”
“And you saw him pass out?”
“I did. He was wearing sunglasses, but his head bobbed and that’s what made me look back, because there was something unsettling about it. Then his head just fell all the way down like someone had pulled his plug, and he flopped against the driver’s window. The van started swerving with him almost immediately, and I happened to have the instincts to pull my brakes to get out of the way. Tommy had pulled ahead of me, and he tried to get out of the way but he just…” In Ghost’s mind, he saw Tommy’s shattered body tumbling across the desert dirt and tried to shake it out. “It didn’t work. He bailed off the bike, and the van wheeled into the ditch.”
The atmosphere in the room was tense and silent as the grave. There wasn’t a single charter across the country that hadn’t buried one of its members in a crash. That Tommy was alive and this tribunal was only about his medical bills was a miracle, and they all knew it.
“I checked on Tommy first, and he was alive. I got on the radio and called for help from the other van, and got orders to get the merch ready to switch when they pulled up. We couldn’t have the merch on us when the cops and EMTs showed up. I checked on Will, who was awake and hurt, but not badly. Lucero had a pulse, but he was still passed out.” Ghost hadn’t actually bothered to check on Lucero at all after the wreck, a fact he was not too proud of, but he wasn’t going to tell them that. His rage in the moment wouldn’t be apologized for. “As soon as they pulled up, we switched the merch to the other van and Rick and Scott took off to finish the run. The rest of us hung back to clean up and get everyone to the hospital.”
The men at the tribunal table were watching him with wide, heavy eyes. Myron sighed and put his pen down. “Thank you for sharing, Ghost. And thank you for your quick work responding to the accident.”
Ghost nodded uncomfortably. “Just doing my job.”
“And you understand the implications of your accusation here today?”
“I do. And I wouldn’t make it lightly. My reputation around here might be one of an insufferable clown, but it sure as shit isn’t one of a liar, or an idiot. And I’m not even here to judge Lucero for using, that’s his fucking business. But if he’s going to bring it to the club and risk the lives of my brothers, he better be ready to answer for it, or I’ll make him answer anyway.”
The room got tense and Ghost thought maybe he had crossed a line and let his fire get the best of him. A couple of the tribunal members had surprised steel in their eyes.
“Sorry,” he added quickly. “But… not sorry. We have to pay for our mistakes, or what’s the point of all this?”
The tribunal exchanged glances with each other. None of them had any more questions for him, so Ghost moved back to his place next to Henry, who patted his knee under the table and gave him a proud nod. Ghost sat back in his chair, but he didn’t actually feel any better.
“Harvey Lucero,” said Myron with a hand toward the chair.
Lucero got up from the table, chair squeaking, and took a heavy seat in front of the tribunal. Myron exchanged quiet words with one of the men to his right before he turned back to his witness.
“Can you please tell us what happened in your own words?”
“I can,” said Lucero in his thick southern drawl. He settled back in his chair and twined his hands in his lap like an old man readying to launch into a familiar war story. “The morning of the run, myself and Shaun and the others arrived bright and early at the clubhouse where the men from LeBeau were staying on our hospitality. Shaun gave us our orders while we waited for them to get themselves gathered. Scott was in charge of the radios. He asked me to double-check the merchandise was ready.”
“Where was the merchandise held?”
“In the loading garage at the rear of the clubhouse. I checked our shipment was accurate and then made my way to the head,” he said. He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. “When I was done washing my hands, I ran into McBride as I was leaving the bathroom.”
“You exchanged words with him?”
Lucero scoffed. “Does anybody have a choice but to exchange words with that loudmouth?”
Ghost’s nostrils flared as rage bloomed in his ribs. Instantly he felt Henry’s hand under the table on his kneecap, a tactile reminder of where he was and what was happening before he got lost in a cloud of anger and did something stupid.
“So you don’t contest Ghost’s testimony on that point?”
“It wasn’t nearly the drama-fest he made it out to be, but yeah, we talked. Guy has to make a fucking production out of everything he does, even when he’s literally standing in someone’s goddamn way.”
“Please continue.”
“After breakfast was done, we loaded up the merchandise and gear for the run and headed out to Burling.” It was right here in his testimony that Ghost noticed Lucero’s body language shift. He sat up in his chair and crossed one leg over his knee. “We’d done this run a million times. It went just fine until we were on the last leg, except that I’d noticed just a bit of a jerking sensation on the van’s steering wheel a few times when I was changing lanes.”
“You fucking liar!” said Ghost from the table before he could stop himself. The tribunal all looked over at him, unamused, and Henry put a firm hand on his shoulder. Lucero didn’t even turn his head to look.
“Get a hold of yourself, Mr. McBride,” said Myron. To Lucero he said, “Continue, please.”
“As I was saying, it wasn’t anything large, or even something to give me worry. I didn’t think anything about it.” Lucero took a big, dramatic breath. “Everything seemed fine right before the crash happened. Then suddenly, it wasn’t. I don’t know what set it off, but the suspension twisted and yanked the wheel clean out of my hands. I remember slamming my feet hard on the brakes. Then I must’ve hit my head against the window or something, because I don’t remember a damn thing until I woke up in the hospital.”
Ghost fumed silently at the table, listening to Lucero’s desperate lies.
“Mr. Lucero, the accusation before us today is that you were under the influence of opiates at the time of the crash. While drugs are not prohibited by our bylaws, endangering the lives of your brothers by accepting a job while impaired by them certainly is. Do you swear before this tribunal that you were not under the influence of any hard drugs at the time of the accident?”
Lucero shook his head slowly. “I swear, I was not high.” He brandished his bare forearms, clean of track marks, as if that proved it.
“You are certain that the cause of the crash was mechanical?”
It was here that Lucero’s lies got really well-done and nuanced. Ghost almost had to be impressed by it. Lucero tilted his head just a bit as he answered. “Well, now, no, I’m not certain. Everything happened so fast. But I can tell you I didn’t pass out at the wheel, and I most certainly remember the feeling of the wheel jerking out of my hand and me being unable to control her back to the road. What the cause of all that was, I don’t know.”
Aga
in, he didn’t have to say he knew. All he had to do was muddy the water enough to make Ghost look crazy. That Ghost was the last one to have inspected the vans before the run made it look like he would have a reason to call Lucero a junkie. That Lucero was so good at slithering his way out of his problems only made Ghost even surer the guy had been a junkie for quite a while.
The tribunal scribbled some notes, but no one had any further questions for Lucero. He got up from the chair and gave Ghost and Henry a shit-eating grin as he made his way back to the table next to Shaun. Ghost saw even Henry was clenching his fists under the table at that.
“We’ve heard from all our witnesses. If there’s nothing else, we will adjourn to deliberate,” said Myron.
The room full of men was quiet for only a few seconds. Then suddenly, a familiar voice called out across the cavernous space.
“Wait!” It was Jase. “Wait, I have something!”
Murmurs erupted as everyone turned. Jase was coming down the auditorium stairs at stage right with his smart phone in his hand and a look on his face Ghost recognized very well. His heart tightened up as Jase passed by the table without stopping, but gave him an exasperated smile as he did.
“You’ve already given your testimony, Mr. Campbell,” said Myron, checking his notes.
“I know,” said Jase. “But something new has come to my attention.”
“What the hell is this?” asked Shaun with an open hand toward Jase.
He was ignored. Jase flipped through his phone as he spoke to the tribunal, loud enough for the men behind him to hear. “Lucero is lying, and I can prove it.”
Chatter broke out among the crowd; Ghost heard Lucero erupt into protest.
“You have proof you haven’t already turned over to this tribunal?” said Myron, his face twisting into an upset sneer.
“No, you’ve seen it,” said Jase. “But Lucero hasn’t. And until he testified, we probably wouldn’t have noticed it.” Jase showed them something on his phone. As they gathered around to look, he said loudly, “I took photos of the scene of the crash before the cops showed up, for our records. And you can see, very clearly, that the only skid marks on the road belong to a bike—Ghost’s bike, to be specific.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” yelled Lucero with an angry hand gesture.
Jase turned with an amused smile on his face that made Ghost instantly happy. “So, you just got up here and swore that you felt the wheel jerk and remembered slamming hard on the brakes of the van before you hit your head on the window. Where are the skid marks then, genius?”
An electric charge ran throughout the room, and Ghost’s eyes went wide. He leaned across the table and saw the color drain from Lucero’s face.
“You didn’t try to stop the van because you weren’t awake to stop it. You passed out before the van swerved,” said Jase. “You’re lying.”
The faces of the men on the tribunal dropped, shocked. They passed Jase’s phone back and forth between them until all of them had seen the proof he described. Relief washed over Ghost, running up from his toes to the top of his head and back down again like an army of fuzzy puppies unleashed into the first spring sunshine.
Myron had to use his gavel to get order back into the room. Henry patted Ghost on the back firmly, and when Ghost looked over, his president had a look of righteous pride in his eyes. Lucero hung his head at his own table, and Shaun stared mindlessly at the back wall as if he was trying to digest what was happening.
The tribunal rose to their feet. “If there’s nothing else, we’re going to adjourn to deliberate,” said Myron. “We will recall this session in fifteen minutes.” He banged the gavel once and followed the men through a side door and out of the auditorium.
Jase came over to the table with a giant grin, and Ghost jumped to his feet to give him a huge bear hug. “Holy shit, dude, that was some epic action right there,” he said, patting Jase hard on the back. “Thank you so much. You’re a genius.”
“I should have listened to you from the start,” said Jase. “You see way more than we’ve ever given you credit for, and from now on I’m going to make sure we utilize it.” He pulled away from the hug. “And I’m never going to forget what you did for me here.”
“Ditto, brother,” said Ghost. “And I don’t entirely blame you for not listening to me. I do talk all the fucking time, and eighty percent of it is nonsense.”
Jase laughed and shook Ghost by the shoulder. Everything felt right then like it had fallen back into place.
When the tribunal returned, no one was surprised by their ruling. The six of them stood behind their chairs facing the men at the tables and announced that, given the testimony and evidence presented, the Eagleton charter was at fault for the collision that injured Tommy and Will. They would be financially responsible for making sure both men got back to fighting strength, and for replacing Tommy’s wrecked bike.
“In addition, Harvey Lucero, for recklessly endangering both your club brothers and the general public, and for conduct unbecoming a Black Dog for your dishonesty on the matter, it is the ruling of this tribunal that you be placed on suspension from duties for one full year.”
“Yes!” Ghost couldn’t stop himself, pumping his fist. He flipped both birds at Lucero across the room. “In your face, you big, dumb fuck!”
The look Myron gave him was somehow several points more devastating than anything Henry had ever expressed, and Ghost instantly shut up.
“Further, if you are indeed in need of assistance with addiction, the club will ensure you get the help and treatment you need to get back to full strength. Once your suspension is served and your health reassessed, the Eagleton charter will have the option to bring you back into the fold if you, and they, so desire.”
Lucero stared at nothing, anger throbbing on his face. For a minute, Ghost almost felt bad for the guy. Being addicted to anything was a horror show he never wanted to fully understand. But then he remembered Tommy’s injuries, the way he looked all broken and twisted on the side of the road, and his sympathy melted away. I’m sure someone else has plenty of time to feel bad for the motherfucker.
“The decision of the tribunal is final. If there is nothing else, we can call this conflict closed,” said Myron with raised eyebrows.
With his fate off the table, Ghost’s other mission for Bridget shoved up to the top of the priority list. This was probably a dramatic solution to his problem, but he figured why the fuck not? He’d earned the chance for some performance art.
“Brothers, wait!” said Ghost suddenly, throwing his hands in the air. He climbed up on his chair and then on the table, using Henry’s big shoulder to steady himself. The men in the auditorium looked at him curiously, some in amusement. Lucero slumped in his seat and ignored him. “Wait, please, I have another thing to add to this punishment… favor… dealy… thing.” He turned in circles and held his arms out.
“You don’t need to yell at the whole room for that, Ghost,” said Henry with a shake of his head.
“I do, though,” said Ghost to them all. “Because this favor is from all of you, not just the tribunal.”
He seemed to have everyone’s attention, even the men of the tribunal, and so he continued. “Look, I know we all gathered here for a shitty reason—but we should also stop and look at how amazing it is to have so many of us gathered in a single place. I’ve never seen a pack of Black Dogs this big.”
The observation seemed to rev up the room with smiles and laughter.
“So, even though we’re all kind of pissed and annoyed and tired that we had to come all the way out to the corridor just to tell Lucero the truth of what he already knows deep in his heart—that he sucks—” Chuckles scattered in the audience, and Ghost continued before the heat could come down. “—there’s a way we can make this gathering even more epic. Hell, we could even make it productive.”
“What’s your point, Mr. McBride?” said Myron with his first hint of impatience.
~ EIGHTEEN ~
Bridget
It was after class when Bridget paced the conference room that connected to the faculty lounge, nervously going over the coming conversation in her head as she waited. Richly decorated and not often used, she figured this was the least likely place anyone would walk in on the conversation she was about to have, and most of the faculty that stayed after school didn’t spend their time in the lounge when they did.
She checked her phone and saw a message from Ghost. Even when they contained actual words, they were always emoji heavy. He couldn’t seem to help himself, and God help her, Bridget found it endearing as hell.
How’s it going, my beautiful Valkyrie?
She wrote back that she was still waiting to begin, and she would text him soon. He wrote back with a series of hearts, gesturing hands, and obscene-looking fruit that made her roll her eyes while laughing. The conference room door creaked open and Bridget quickly shoved the phone in her pocket and turned toward the door.
Vindication: A Motorcycle Club Romance Page 16
