Page 25 of Ghost's Angel

"Never is a long time," I whisper.

"Not long enough." His thumb traces patterns on my palm. "I've been watching you for weeks, you know. Falling in love with you little by little, every time you showered your incredible kindness on one of your customers. Every time you smiled at me—smiled through your own pain."

A tear escapes my lower lid and trails down my cheek.

"When you're healed," he growls softly, "we're going to have a long discussion about you sneaking out of the compound and attempting to leave me. And I might need to warm that pretty backside to drive the lesson home."

Despite everything, a giggle escapes my lips. "Promise?"

His answering grin is both tender and wicked. "Cross my heart, angel."

First Epilogue

Ghost

Mira's skin glows golden in the morning light as she sleeps peacefully beside me, one hand curled beneath her chin, the other resting on my chest. The surgical scar has healed nicely, barely visible now beneath the silky nightgown she's wearing.

My fingers trace the elegant script on her inner wrist—a small tattoo of my road name that she got last week. Her first ink, marking her as mine in yet another permanent way. Just like the blood that flows through both our veins.

The club cut draped over the chair catches my eye—"Property of Ghost" emblazoned across the back. She wears it proudly now, embracing her role as my old lady with the same quiet strength she brings to everything.

Her breathing changes subtly and those beautiful eyes flutter open. "Morning," she murmurs, stretching against me like a contented cat.

"Morning, angel." I roll her beneath me, caging her with my arms as I drink in the sight of her. Healthy. Whole. Mine.

Her fingers trail down my chest, and I watch as she shivers.

“Mmm, someone's horny this morning,” she teases, wrapping her legs around my waist so my hard-on digs into her soft belly.

“For you? Always." I capture her lips in a deep kiss, savoring her soft moan. Making love to her is still a revelation—each time more intense than the last. Like now, as I slide into her wet heat, her body welcoming me home.

"Ghost," she gasps, arching beneath me. Her nails dig into my shoulders as I set a steady rhythm, drawing out her pleasure.

"That's it, angel. Let me hear you." I thrust deeper, harder, drinking in her cries of ecstasy. When she comes apart around me, it triggers my own release, and for a perfect moment, there's nothing but us.

Afterward, she curls against my side, tracing the tattoos on my chest. "Have you heard from Cipher?"

"Yeah." I press a kiss to her temple. "The Petersons' sentencing is today. With multiple identity theft charges, they're looking at twenty years minimum."

She nods, satisfaction clear in her expression. Those foster parent fuckers learned the hard way what happens when you cross my family. The club's lawyers buried them in so much evidence, even a public defender could've won the case with his eyes closed.

"And Kovalev?" She asks the question cautiously, knowing it's a sore subject.

"Gone to ground." For now. The slimy motherfucker slipped through our fingers that night at the docks, but we been working on dismantling his operation. None of us doubt it’ll be long before he surfaces again.

“We’ll get him,” I assure her. “And when we do, he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“I know.” She doesn't flinch at the implication. My angel is now fully accepting of the outlaw lifestyle. She knows that harsh retribution is part of our world and sometimes justice requires bloodshed.

"Speaking of justice," I shift to look at her properly. "Tell me more about your plans for the foundation."

Her whole face lights up. "I've been researching programs that help foster kids transition into adulthood. There's such a huge need, Ghost. So many of them age out of the system with nothing—no support, no resources, nowhere to go."

"Like you did." My jaw clenches at the memory of her living in that flooded basement, rationing medication just to survive.

"Yes, but I was lucky. I found you." She touches my face gently. “Or you found me.”

I kiss her fingertips, one by one. “And you want to help those less fortunate.” I’m not surprised in the least. My angel has a heart of pure gold.

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