Page 15 of American Hellhound
“The club, Ghost. I want back in.”
The last of the sunset went out like a doused match, there and then gone the next second. It brought with it an ominous gust of wind.
“You understand what ‘excommunicated’ means, right? Or did you hit your head real hard since I saw you last?”
“You were the one who gave me the boot. And no one’s around now who was back then. You could overturn it.”
Ghost couldn’t form words. He stood there, struck dumb by the sheernerveof the man.
“You were in a bad accident, that’s it? Your head went through a windshield or something?”
Roman grinned, teeth gleaming in the dark. “You asked why I was here, and I’m just telling you.”
“Why’d you kill the dog, Roman? Huh? It’s bad enough you think I’ll actually bring you back into my club, but did you have to do that to a defenseless animal?”
“What dog?”
Ghost took an aggressive step forward, spine tingling like he had hackles, and like they were raised. “You lying, dog-killing piece of shit. Get off my property.”
Roman breathed a laugh, but he climbed back on his bike. “That’s fine, I’ll go. You’ll be calling me soon anyway. That I can promise.”
“Don’t fucking count on it.”
Whatever Roman said in return was drowned by the roar of his Harley coming to life.
Ghost watched him go with a lump of dread in his stomach. He’d been around too long to believe in coincidences. Somehow, this was all connected.
He heard footfalls approach from behind, and Walsh’s voice said, “Who was that?”
“Somebody who doesn’t have any business here.”
Five
He spotted Maggie standing outside the sliding glass doors of the outpatient wing, arms folded tight, chin lifted as she stared across the parking lot, hair shimmering gold beneath the lights. She should have been inside, where she was safer, but she’d always been one for fresh air and open skies.
He parked in the hash marks and killed the engine, studying his wife more closely as he took his helmet off. Usually, she wanted his company after she’d spent time with her parents. But every once in a while, she wanted her distance.
Her arms relaxed and that was the sign he needed; he went to her, pulled her in under his chin.
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” she said on a sigh. “He had a tiny blockage they were able to remove with angioplasty. I can’t even believe they do that shit outpatient. They just headed home about five minutes ago.”
“He’ll be fine,” Ghost said, though he had no idea if that was true. “They do that sort of procedure all the time, right?”
He felt her shrug, shoulders jerking inside the circle of his arms. “I guess.” There were checked tears in her voice.
He rubbed her back and felt the vibration of fine tremors along her spine. “How areyou?”
“Fine.” She pressed her face into his chest, breath warm at the base of his throat. “Definitely pregnant.”
He’d already known that – he hadn’t doubted the at-home test – but having it confirmed by the doctor added another layer or reality to it.
“You hungry?” he asked.
She sighed. “Yeah. Starving, actually.”
“Come on.” He gave her a squeeze. “Let’s get out of here.”
