Page 17 of Ghost

"Ghost.” The name fell from my lips on a whisper.

So, this was the infamous son who’d been ‘away’.

He was the owner of the house.

All of the sudden the weight of the weapon in my hand felt ten times more significant.

Damn.

He was totally going to fire me for pulling a gun on him. Blowing out a breath, I readied myself for the inevitable. Amelda was never going to give me another chance.

“Whoa, you alright, darlin’? Your face just went as white as a sheet,” he asked carefully, wincing as he shifted against the door.

His concern caught me off guard, considering not even a minute ago he called me a whore.

“Yeah, sorry. Spaced out for a second. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Ghost.” I offered him my hand to shake. “I’m Rae.”

His eyes rounded as he burst out laughing, then quickly sobered as his hand shot up against his side. “Fuck,” he wheezed, breathing through his pain. “You’re Ray?”

I reached out my hand when the sudden urge to soothe him came over me, then quickly retracted it when I realized my mistake.

Smooth, Rae.

“Uhm, yeah.” I wanted to ask him why he thought my name was so funny, but wisely refrained. That wasn’t important. What was important was making sure I kept my job.

“Look, I’m sorry for holding a gun on you. Surely, you can understand though. A woman… alone with a baby…” I bit my lip, hoping he’d cut me some slack.

“I do,” he exhaled slowly, “and I appreciate you doing whatever it took to protect my girl.”

“Of course. I love that little girl.” His expression softened.

“What happened to your face?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"Run-in with some guards," he muttered cryptically.

"Guards?" A frown creased my forehead as I took in the sight of him again. He was pretty banged up, but it didn’t take away from how good looking he was. He was the poster boy for bad boy bikers. And guards? What kind of guards? My mind whirled with questions I had no right to ask.

“Did you deserve it?” That felt like a fair ask. He could be the bad guy in this fairy tale.

“Fuck no,” he growled, rocking off the door and moving toward the kitchen table. Using his boot, he kicked out a chair, and took a seat. “I was targeted.”

“For what?” My eyes closed.Damnit. You just can’t keep your mouth shut, can you?

His eyes searched my face. “Club business.”

I rolled my eyes. Good Lord. I’d heard that plenty of times over the last few weeks. Anytime I’d ask where Payton’s father was, that was always the answer. Club business.

Glancing at the gun still in my hand, then back at him, I sighed. “That cheek needs some ice.”

“Thanks for the tip, darlin’,” Ghost said, his voice laced with exhaustion.

Moving to the other side of the kitchen I pulled a Ziplock bag from the drawer, opened the freezer, grabbed the ice bin, then dumped half its contents into the bag.

“Here, sweetheart. This should do for tonight.” The endearment rolled off my tongue before I could catch it and my cheeks flamed with embarrassment.

“Thanks,” he answered slowly.

“Sure.” I nodded, pointing over my shoulder. “If you’re good, I’m going to get out of your hair and head up to bed.”

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