Page 13 of Ghost's Angel

Tears well in her eyes. “I don’t want to be a charity case, and I can't pay you back?—"

"You're not a fucking charity case," I growl. "You're mine. Taking care of what's mine isn't charity."

A blush stains her cheeks pink. She looks like she’s about to argue, but thinks better of it. “Okay. I should get ready for work..."

“Fuck no." The words come out sharp, commanding. "You're resting today."

"But I need the money?—”

"What you need is to rest, get your strength back, and let me take care of you."

She sets her jaw stubbornly. "I can't just no-show for my shift. I need that job, and I’m not comfortable depending on someone else. I've always taken care of myself."

And there it is, the core of her resistance. My fierce survivor, so used to standing alone she doesn't know how to let anyone stand beside her.

I gentle my voice. "One day of rest won't kill you, angel. Stay home today, let the medication kick in properly."

She bites her lip, considering. "Just today?"

"We'll start with today." It's a compromise I can live with. For now. She needs time to learn she can trust me, to understand that depending on someone doesn't make her weak.

"I have to at least call Dave and let him know.”

At the mention of her sleazy manager's name, I grind my teeth. “What’s the number?”

She hesitates, then recites the digits. I switch the phone to speaker before handing it to her. The asshole answers on the third ring.

“Hi, Dave. It’s Mia.”

"Where the hell are you?" His voice drips with petty authority. "Your shift starts in five minutes.”

I snatch the phone. “Listen,Dave,” I spit his name out with a sneer. "This is the President of the Shadow Reapers MC. We met last night.”

Silence. Then a choked sound of recognition. He knows who we are, and he knows whoIam. Our reputation precedes us in this town.

"You’ve been working Mira too hard and she needs R&R time. She’ll be taking the week off. With pay." I continue in the same low, menacing tone. "And when she returns,”—I almost sayifshe returns, but I don’t want to rile Mira any more than she already is—“you're going to treat her with respect. Because if you don't..." I let the threat hang.

"Y-yes sir! Of course. A week off, paid vacation, absolutely.”

I end the call, satisfied by the tremor of fear in his voice. When I look at Mira, she's staring at me with an expression I can't quite read.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she whispers.

"Believe it." I pull her into my lap, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. "Nobody fucks with what's mine, angel. The sooner you understand that, the better."

She tenses slightly, then gradually relaxes against my chest.

I press a kiss to her temple, already planning my move against her foster parents. They think they can fuck over my woman and get away with it? They're about to find out exactly how wrong they are.

Chapter 9

Mira

My body feels lighter than it has in months—maybe years—as I nestle deeper into Ghost’s soft sheets. Thanks to finally getting a full dose of my medication and some much-needed rest, the flutter in my chest is now more butterfly wings and less angry hornets.

The morning drifts by in a haze of catnaps and quiet contemplation.

I appreciate Ghost’s kindness tremendously, but I can’t dispel the nagging hunch that he brought me here for a reason. That there must be a price to pay for his generosity. Nothing in life comes free—that's one lesson the foster system taught me well.

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