Page 1 of Ghost

Chapter One

Ghost

“You sure you can't stay just another day? I feel like I just got you back.” Piper, my baby girl and the reason I fight so hard for this hellish existence, pleads, holding strong, keeping those tears at bay. Just like I taught her… maybe a little too effectively.

“You’ve found your place here, baby girl, and I’m so damn proud of you for fighting to keep it. It’s time for me to find mine,” I tell her, grabbing her by the back of the head and pulling her into my arms.

I close my eyes, thinking of all the time we had together and the years that were stolen from us. I don't let my mind go down that path, though; I force through with the good. All those camping trips, fishing, hunting, and Pipers love for training. Her first steps, her first bullseye, her first takedown. All those memories of the past just come rushing back as I hold my not-so-little girl in my grasp just a little bit tighter. She’s always been tough, but looking over her shoulder now, I see a man willing to take that burden from her, eager too, even. That tells me all I need to know. Piper is safe and loved here.

“Where will you go?” Piper asks, clearing her throat and discreetly wiping her eyes as she pulls away from me. Never was a crier, that one, even as a baby. Some things, I guess, never really change.

“Oh, you know, this and that, maybe get the old crew back together. See where that takes me. I'll always just be a call away, baby, but you've got you a good protector now. I think it's time for me to step back and let him take over.”

Swift holds his hand out to me. “Thank you for trusting me enough with your daughter. I know that's not easy, especially with someone who doesn't deserve it.”

“Don't you start that pity party bullshit again with me, Hayden. I put myself in front of that bullet for you. You tried to shield me. There was nothing you could do about it,” Piper argues, making me chuckle even if I’m still fucking livid about the whole situation.

My daughter throwing herself in front of a bullet for a man, any man, nearly had me wanting to yell and rage at both of them. Still, seeing as we were the ones who brought that particular bit of trouble to his doorstep, I couldn’t be too angry. That thought has my mind turning back to my bitch of an ex-wife. I have no idea why I thought I could force her to be the one, but that's water under the bridge. Instead, my mind focuses back on Piper's happiness.

“You should listen to her, Swift. I know how stubborn, hardheaded, and selfless my daughter can be. She gave you her heart; she’d damn near give you everything else, including her life, if you let her. If she put herself between you and death, there wasn't anything you could have done to change her mind.” I shake his hand with a hard grip, pulling him closer this time,making sure only he hears my next words. “Now you know the lengths she will go to protect you and anyone else she loves. Don't let her get that close again. You always have to be ahead of her, and that's going to be tough, seeing as I taught her to be three steps ahead. You got to be six ahead and have her six. Got me?” When I look him in the eyes, I see the determination before he gives me a nod.

“Got it.”

“Good. This is the most important mission of your life. Don't fuck it up. You have my number. Need me for anything, I'm there. Don't be too stupid to fucking ask, either. Those who can't accept an extra set of protection at their back are cowards, and usually the first ones dead,” I tell him as I pull back and release his hand before turning to my bike.

I throw my leg over my seat and prepare for this long ride. With Piper settled and Swift clearly having things in hand, there isn’t much reason for me to stay now. As I go to kick-start my bike, a cloud of bright blond curls sneaking off toward the garage catches my attention, and I can’t hold back my smirk. The troublemaker is at it again, and I think I have just enough time to thwart some plans before I take off. I always have time for that firecracker.

Chapter Two

Tizzy

I smile again as Grease pulls my sweet baby girl closer to his chest, his rough hands gentle as they glide over her arms and shoulders, checking for any sign of harm. His eyes scan her like a protective hawk, and the sheer love and relief in his expression squeezes my chest. He murmurs something to her—words too low for me to hear—but the soft, reverent tone says enough. My baby girl is safe, loved, and exactly where she’s meant to be. For the first time in what feels like forever, I allow myself to let go of the breath I’ve been holding. She’s free. She’s happy. And she’s home.

I couldn’t have chosen better for her if I’d tried, and I’ll be damned if I’m not grateful to the good Lord above for bringing her to this moment. As Grease pulls her into one last hug, his arms wrapping around her as if he’ll never let go, I know without a doubt that she’s exactly where she was always meant to end up.

It’s bittersweet—watching her settle so perfectly into this life, this family, this love. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted for her, but it also leaves me with the quiet ache of realizing my role has shifted. My purpose, tied to her safety and happiness for so long,is no longer as pressing as it once was. It’s time to let go. Time to move forward. Time to figure out what’s next for me. Time to dust off these ol’ boots and find my stomping ground.

I take one last look around the yard. The scene is chaos, but it’s the good kind. The firefighters have mostly subdued the blaze, the smoky remnants rising in lazy tendrils toward the sky. Club members are scattered in small groups, some checking over their bikes, others tending to the rattled but unharmed women and children. And then there’s him.

I feel his eyes on me before I even spot him. It’s a prickling sensation, a heat at the back of my neck that’s as familiar as it is unnerving. There’s no mistaking who it is—who it always is. Devon. Or should I say Ghost? When I finally meet his gaze, it’s like a bolt of lightning straight to my chest. He doesn’t bother hiding it, the way his eyes linger on me with that mix of amusement and something deeper—something darker.

Even at this distance, I can feel him. The tension coils low in my belly, a mix of irritation and something much more dangerous. My lips curl into a smirk, and I throw in a wink, refusing to let him see how unsteady he makes me. His lips twitch, but he doesn’t move from his post in the shadows. Turning forward again, I try to ignore how his gaze lingers, burning through my resolve like a brand. Once I’m out of his sight, I let the smirk fade, my shoulders sagging as I release a shaky breath. God help me; that man is infuriating, frustrating, and… delicious.

“Focus,” I whisper to myself. I need to stay on the task at hand instead of getting my head all swoony and fuzzy. But still…

How does he do that? How does he make me feel so… exposed and yet so safe? It’s a strange, almost intoxicating mix, and I can’t decide if it’s thrilling or terrifying. Maybe both. But I don’thave time to dwell on it. I have plans, and I know I'll lose my nerve if I think about them for too long. If I let myself get sidetracked by how his voice rumbles in my chest or the way his lips quirk when he’s amused, I’ll never leave.

I need to leave. I need to go out into the big, bad world and figure out what’s left for me now that my baby girl has found her place. My soul aches for the open road, for the kind of freedom I’ve put off for far too long. And tonight? Tonight is the night I’m finally going to take it.

Moving through the commotion, I grab a cup of lemonade from the table. My eyes scan the yard, searching for the perfect distraction. The Ol’ Ladies are standing together, talking animatedly, their laughter carrying over the hum of voices and the sound of boots crunching on gravel. I make my way toward them, careful to stay inconspicuous, and then… showtime.

With a swift, discreet motion, I pour the lemonade onto the ground behind one of them, then let out a dramatic gasp.

“Oh my lanta, honey! Did your water just break?” I shriek loud enough to grab everyone’s attention.

Chaos erupts immediately. Men swarm around her, panic written all over their faces, while the women bark orders and try to calm the situation. It’s perfect. The distraction works like a charm, and I slip away unnoticed, weaving through the crowd toward the open bay doors of the garage. The exit on the far side of the compound is just ahead, and my heart pounds as I spot the Charger sitting in Grease’s shop. The keys are on the workbench, and I snatch them up, sending a silent apology to my son-in-law.

He’ll get over it. Probably.

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