GHOST (Devil's Disciples MC Book 3)

by Scott Hildreth

  Goose’s home was a small ranch with an ornate yard that stood out from the rest of the homes on the block. His green thumb was obvious, as his yard was filled with greenery, flowers, and various shrubs that only he could get to grow in Southern California’s climate.

  We walked up the drive and to the gate that led to the back yard. As soon as we came into view of everyone in attendance, all eyes were on us. I’d warned the fellas not to swarm her, but I feared they would, regardless. Partially due to her celebrity status, and in part because I had settled down with one woman, I suspected we’d be the center of attention.

  Twenty feet into to the yard, Tito stepped off the deck and greeted us.

  “Tito,” he extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “I’m Abby,” she said. “Are you the cook?”

  He shook his head. “Brother Goose is the cook.” He gestured toward the back deck. “He’s the one wearing the apron with the lobster on it.”

  Abby glanced in Goose’s direction. He stood beside the grille, talking to Baker and Cash.

  “Oh,” she said. “Whatever he’s cooking smells wonderful.”

  “He’s not cooking seafood, is he?” I asked.

  “It’s kind of a hodgepodge,” Tito said. “Baker wanted seafood, and everyone else wanted barbeque. So, we’re having oysters, lobster, turkey, brisket, and grilled fish of some sort. Maybe trout, I don’t know.”

  “I love seafood,” Abby said with a smile.

  Baker, Cash, Goose, and Reno craned their necks in our direction. Baker’s girlfriend Andy, and Cash’s wife Kimberly stepped off the deck together, and began walking in our direction.

  “Hi,” Andy said. “I’m Andy.”

  Andy was as solid as any woman on earth. She’d entered the club through an odd series of circumstances, but had proven her devotion to the club, and to Baker repeatedly through her actions. There weren’t many people on earth that I’d give my endorsement, but Andy was sure one of them.

  “Abby,” Abby said. “Nice to meet you.”

  Kimberly shook Abby’s hand, and commented on her new Converse, saying that the shoe had made a recent comeback.

  “It’s all I wear,” Abby said. “Chucks and a dress have become my signature outfit.”

  “It looks great on you,” Andy said.

  Abby smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Come on,” Andy said. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

  “I can introduce her,” I said.

  Andy gave me a look. “Go hang with your brothers and let the girls have their time together.”

  “Fine.”

  I didn’t consciously hold back on my relationship with Abby, but for some reason, I hadn’t introduced her to the club. After being given a clean bill of health, the first thing I wanted to do was bring our relationship to light.

  I suspected an inner fear of dying prevented me from outwardly admitting that I was in a relationship, and that I was sick. Admitting one required admitting the other. Keeping my diagnosis from the club was easier if I kept Abby from the club.

  “So, this is what you’ve been doing with your time over the last two months,” Tito said.

  “Pretty much,” I responded.

  Seeing Abby interact with the girls opened a new window of opportunity in our relationship. As I watched her meet the rest of the fellas, I envisioned trips across country with her on the back of the bike, sharing one of my favorite activities.

  Connecticut in the fall with Cash and Kimberly would be quite an experience. During the trip the women would develop a bond that would be unbreakable, comparable to the bond the men had developed since childhood.

  Since Cash and Kimberly adopted their child, Cash’s mother moved from Montana to San Diego to be closer to the baby. She was a loving grandmother, a babysitter, and the club’s voice of reason.

  “Is Erin bringing the baby later?” I asked.

  “I haven’t heard,” Tito responded. “Maybe.”

  Kimberly and Cash opened a nursery, which had been Kimberly’s dream for some time. It was an immediate success, consuming much of Cash’s time and all of Kimberly’s time. Their baby and Cash’s mother, Erin, had become fixtures in the nursery’s office, staying in a nursery Cash had built within the office.

  Seeing Cash happily married gave me reason to believe I could to the same. I knew, beyond a doubt, that I would never want anyone but Abby. I’d given her my entire heart, and she, in turn, had given me hers.

  I worried that two months into a relationship was far too early to propose marriage, but not expressing my intentions to her – when marriage was all I could think about – seemed dishonest to me.

  And, as I had said since the beginning, I wanted to maintain complete transparency.

  “Can you keep your little mouth shut?” I asked.

  “About what?” Tito asked.

  “About whatever I want to talk about.”

  Reno stepped off the deck and started to walk in our direction. I raised my index finger. “Give us a minute, Brother Reno.”

  He paused and gave a nod.

  “Sure,” Tito said. “Why?”

  “Because, I want to talk to you about some shit, privately. And, privately means privately.”

  “It’ll remain between us,” Tito assured me.

  While I watched Andy and Abby wander through Goose’s lushly landscaped yard talking, I turned to face Tito. He was a walking dictionary, had received a scholarship to MIT – which he declined – and a genius.

  Beyond that, he had a good head on his shoulders.

  “I’m going to ask you something,” I explained. “But I don’t want the statistical answer, or the Google response. I can Google shit. I want your opinion, because I respect you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Abby and I have been seeing each other for two months, basically. We’ve both admitted that we’re in love with each other. I can’t imagine living a day without her, and I want her to fully understand how much she means to me. How soon is too soon to get married?”

  “The national average time to date prior to marriage is about three years,” he said.

  “Damn it, Tito. I said I wanted to know--”

  “But,” he interrupted, raising his hand between us. “I don’t think three years is required to realize you’re in love with that one woman who makes a difference in your life that only she can make.”

  “So, you think it’s not too early? Not to get married,” I said. “But to propose marriage.”

  “To get engaged?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Engaged.”

  “An engagement is the promise of marriage. Personally, I don’t see the problem with doing that as soon as you’re certain that the woman in question is that woman. Postponing that marriage to allow a lengthy engagement is probably a good idea. It would allow the two parties to learn each other’s faults and weaknesses, and to build on the relationship. Then, when they’re married, there’s very little that might go wrong.”

  “Gives time to plan it and make sure everyone can attend and stuff, too,” I added.

  He smiled. “Absolutely.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “What?”

  “Are you going to ask her?”

  “That’s none of your business,” I said.

  “You already revealed your cards, Ghost. Personally, I think it’s quite charming. To take a guy like you, who has struggled with relationships for one reason or another, and form him into a loving caring--”

  “Stop,” I insisted. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Hear what?”

  “All that wishy-washy shit. I love her. She loves me. I can’t imagine life without her. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Nobody formed me into anything. I finally found the girl that makes a difference in my life, and in my way of looking at love. It’s that simple.”

  He shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Now, keep you little mouth shut,” I said. “Let’s go mingle.”

  He ges
tured toward the deck. “After you.”

  We joined the rest of the men on the deck while the women sat by the fountain that Goose built in the center of the yard. While they discussed decorating ideas, clothing, and makeup, we talked about camshafts, horsepower, and blowjobs.

  “She can’t fit much more than the tip in her mouth,” I said. “That’s it.”

  “It’s not a blowjob, then,” Cash said. “It’s a rim job.”

  Baker burst into laughter. “A rim job is when a woman licks your butthole, genius.”

  Cash’s eyes went thin. “I thought a rim job was when a girl licked the head of your dick?”

  Baker shook his head. “Nope.”

  Cash looked at Tito.

  “A rim job is just as Baker said it was,” Tito said. “It’s when a man or a woman licks the area surrounding the anus, or the anus’ rim.”

  “What is it when she licks the head of your dick, then?” Cash asked.

  “A shitty blowjob,” Reno said with a laugh.

  “She’s got a little mouth and I’ve got a big dick,” I said. “It’s fine with me.”

  “Girls with little mouths have little twats,” Reno said.

  “Where the fuck did you hear that?” Baker asked.

  Reno crossed his arms. “It’s true.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Baker huffed. “Andy’s got a big mouth, and her twat is the size of a dime.”

  Reno looked at me. “What about the movie star? She got a big twat?”

  I rolled my eyes. “For the sake of ending this stupid conversation, I’ll reply. No.”

  “She’s got a little bitty fucker, doesn’t she?” he asked.

  I cocked an eyebrow.

  He raised his hands and turned his palms to face me. “I don’t need to know.”

  “No,” I responded. “You sure don’t.”

  “Kim can swallow a baseball bat,” Cash offered. “Without gagging.”

  “Never understood why all girls couldn’t do that,” Reno said. “Deep throating a dick is a man’s dream come true.”

  “Not mine,” I said. “I don’t give half a fuck about what Abby can or can’t swallow.”

  “She must have other talents,” Reno said. “Really good ones.”

  “Yeah.” I looked the men over. “She’s got one really good talent.”

  Ten eyes widened in wonder of my revelation. I hadn’t planned on revealing my feelings to the entire club, but I was caught up in the moment and felt the need to clarify matters.

  “She’s good at loving me,” I said. “And, when you’re truly in love with someone, you accept them wholeheartedly.”

  I waited for the fallout.

  No one laughed. No one made a snide comment, and no one questioned my devotion to her. After a few silent seconds passed, Baker patted me on the shoulder.

  “Love is a beautiful thing, Brother Ghost,” he said. “Half the men standing here know that first hand. The other half? They’ll wonder until the day they find what it is that we’ve been blessed with. Only then will they understand.”

  There was a reason Baker was the president of the club, and he’d just reminded everyone why. His character, his demeanor, and his ability to speak from the heart when needed was second to none.

  I raised my bottle of beer and tilted the neck toward him. Cash lifted his bottle, and Baker followed. I glanced at Abby and then at the men.

  “To love,” I said.

  The two men clanked the necks of their bottles against mine and chimed the toast in unison.

  “To love.”

  27

  Abby

  Since becoming successful in my career, I’d not really had a girlfriend that I spent time with beyond the reach of social media. It sounded terrible to say, but I feared women who tried to befriend me were doing so in the hope of gaining an increased social media presence, or for financial gain.

  I’d seen it happen too many times with other celebrities to question whether my fears were justified or not. Due to those reservations, George had become my closest friend. Nothing, however, could match the joy of having a female companion.

  Andy picked up a piece of sushi with her chopsticks, dipped it into her soy sauce, and poked it into her mouth. “This place is awesome.”

  “I love that word,” I said.

  “Which one?” she asked.

  “Awesome. It’s one of my all-time favorite words.” I chose a piece of sushi, paused, and looked at her.

  She was beautiful, curvaceous, and had curly hair and perfect olive-colored skin. I had straight hair, sticks for legs, and was so pale-skinned that I should be the one with the nickname Ghost.

  I wasn’t envious of her, I simply wanted there to be things we had in common with one another. A common thread that we shared between us beyond having bikers for boyfriends.

  “Let’s say you’re at a buffet, and there’s all this food. Some of it is good, and some of it is so-so, and then there’s one that is just perfect. What word would you use to describe the perfect one?” I asked.

  “I don’t eat at buffets,” she said. “They’re a breeding ground for bacteria, and you don’t know where they get their food. I like places like this that make food fresh and don’t use preservatives.”

  “Okay. You’re at an all-you-can-eat sushi bar. And the itamae sets six different items in front of you. One stands out as being miles ahead of the rest in flavor. What one word do you use to later describe it to your friends. Good? great? Best? Fantastic? You know, something like that?”

  “I’d say it was awesome, why?”

  “I just love that word.”

  She smiled. “I like it, too.”

  At that moment, I decided Andy and I could be great friends. She was a property manager, which I found fascinating. She didn’t bother me about my job, ask a bunch of questions about my income, or even ask where I lived, for that matter.

  She simply enjoyed shopping with me and getting a bite to eat.

  “How’d you meet Ghost,” she asked.

  Porter and I had talked about it and decided to tell everyone we met while he was getting his CAT scan for his head injury. It was as close to the truth as we could get without telling an out-and-out lie.

  “I met him when he hurt himself at the gym,” I said.

  “Oh,” she said. “At the gym?”

  “No. At the hospital.”

  She looked puzzled. “Oh.”

  “How did you and Baker meet?” I asked.

  The corners of her mouth curled up. “Well, he stays in Old Town, in a three-story building that attaches to every other three-story building on that block. So, it was on my first day as the property manager of the building that attaches to his, and he came up to see if we had any condos to rent, short-term. He said he needed it for a temporary home while his was being worked on. Personally, I think it was a ploy. A few minutes later we went up to look at a space I had for rent. He looked the space over, we hit it off, and that was pretty much it.”

  I liked hearing how people got together. “How’d you guys start dating?”

  She reached for a piece of sushi. “When he looked at the property.”

  I felt that I must have missed something. “So, he looked at the property, and then what?”

  She scanned the restaurant, and then leaned forward. “He, like, ripped off my cloths and bent me over the kitchen countertop.”

  I slapped my hand on the countertop. “Get outta here. Seriously?”

  She gave the Brownie salute. “Dead serious.”

  “Oh. Wow. That’s pretty awesome.” I set my chopsticks aside. “Porter and I had been out a few times, and then he took me for a piece of pecan pie at some cute little town up north.”

  “Julian Pie Company?” she asked.

  “Yep, that’s it. Have you been there?”

  She nodded. “We ride up there all the time. I love the pie. The Rhubarb is awesome. Add a scoop of cinnamon-vanilla ice cream and it’s scrumptious.”

  “So
, that Kimberly girl. What’s she like? Is she fun, too?”

  “She is the best,” she said. “She doesn’t talk much at first, but once she starts, look out. She’s so funny. Her husband, Cash? His mother’s Irish. Like, Irish as F. She has this accent, it’s like she’s not even speaking English. She always says Irish sayings and stuff. They’re a riot to listen to. Kimberly and Cash arguing about flowers, which, by the way, he knows nothing about. And Erin, Cash’s mom, arguing about everything and sneaking drinks of whiskey from under the desk. It’s hilarious. You’ve got to go to the nursery.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Seriously, we should go some time. It’s better than going to the movies.”

  “OhmyGod,” I shouted. “Listen to this. We went to the movies, and there’s this guy, Luke Westham, and he--”

  “The football player?” she asked.

  “Yeah. He’s such a psycho,” I blurted. “So, anyway. He stalked me for a while, and I blocked him on Facebook, and on everything else sand--”

  “Luke Westham is a stalker?”

  “Yeah, but don’t tell anybody.”

  She did the Brownie salute again. “I won’t.”

  “Okay. So, we went in the movies, and that creep was in there. He looked at me and was like, oh my God, how have you been? And I was like, uhhm, go away, creep. So, he walked up and grabbed my arm. Porter punched him like ten times in two seconds and knocked him out cold. And everyone gathered around and said, oh my God, you knocked out Luke Westham. And Porter said, who the fuck’s Luke Westham? It was the best thing, ever.”

  She laughed. “Baker pinched a guy’s throat in Target one night. At first, I didn’t know what to think, and then I decided it’s nice having a guy stick up for me.”

  “Like, pinched his skin?” I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t get it.”

  “No. He grabbed his windpipe or whatever. You know, pinched it. The guy was looking down my shirt. I had on this top that I loved, but I hated it too, because it creeps up in the back and down in the front, and it had creeped way down. In the front. The guy was staring into my cleavage. Baker made sure he knew not to do it again.”