Page 229 of Fearless

Of course Collier was there. It had been on the porch overlooking the rolling hills dotted with Hereford cows that their lifelong friendship had been formed.

Ghost took one of the club trucks, leaving the main road for the gravel drive that switched up and back as it climbed toward the highest point of the property, the old barn, now only a jagged echo of its former self.

Collier’s truck was parked beside the gaping front doors. Collier was up in the loft, jean-clad legs dangling over the edge of the window, staring off across the acres of waving, unkempt grass. He didn’t acknowledge the sound of Ghost’s truck door closing.

Ghost sighed, and entered the main doors. It was cool and shady inside, dirt rising in thick puffs with each step he took across the sawdust floor. Most of the wood was still in good shape, the stalls forlorn and empty, everything dusted in cobwebs. Doves cooed and rustled in their nests up in the high corners.

Up the ladder, thick clumps of dust pulling off into his hands, he climbed through the trap door into the loft. There was some old hay up here that had half-rotted, and it smelled of mildew. Massive fire hazard. Through the window, he could see clear across the farm. Beautiful view, one that would always be tainted by the memory of Richard.

Over against one wall, there was a sleeping bag, some takeout containers and beer bottles.

“It took you longer than I thought,” Collier said as Ghost moved up to stand beside him.

“Yeah, well.” Ghost smirked toward the field that lay before them. “Kinda got a lot on my plate these days.”

“Guess I didn’t help with that.”

“Guess not.”

Collier’s face was placid, the skin dry and lined, like the stress and guilt and total exhaustion had finally just forced all the life out of him. He couldn’t react anymore. He couldn’t be afraid anymore.

He said, “I guess that little rat of Aidan’s told you he saw me that night.”

Ghost nodded. “Greg. Yeah. Said he saw your face, plain as day, right after you stabbed Andre.”

“Hm. I Shoulda known he’d come to you. Shoulda taken care of that loose end.”

“So you did stab Andre.”

Slow nod. “Couldn’t use a gun; everyone would have heard that.”

Ghost was having trouble rectifying this version of his friend with the man he’d promoted to vice president. Collier had always been composed, level-headed, logical, all traits he was exhibiting now – but it was all wrong. Controlled, sure, but he had a deep love for his club and his brothers. This was a cold, defeated man sitting at Ghost’s feet.

“Explain it to me,” Ghost said. “ ‘Cause I just don’t understand.”

Collier took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. His eyes closed for a long moment, and then he opened them. “Andre was a rat.”

“What?”

Collier nodded. “We had him over for dinner, ‘bout a month ago. He wasn’t acting right. When he stepped out for a smoke, I went after him, walked up on him telling someone over the phone about a hundred little secrets about the club.” His eyes slid over to Ghost, straining at the corners. “About all of us. Who’d been arrested for what, who’d done time. He talked about Mercy and Ava, before Ava was legal, and Aidan and Tango getting picked up that time for shoplifting.

“I came right up behind him, scared the shit out of him. He made some lame excuse, and tore outta there. A few days after that, I managed to get his phone off him when he was passed out. It was all there: the text messages, the emails, voicemails. He was offering to be a CI for the cops.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ghost said.

“I knew what that meant, what had to happen.” He swallowed, throat working. “With the change coming, James stepping down, I knew it wasn’t the right time for a buncha bullshit. Carpathians back in town and all that…He was my prospect, and I was the sergeant at arms. I decided to just take care of it.” His smile was false and wry. “I didn’t think it’d get blamed on the Carpathians.”

“Just like you didn’t think you ought to come clean at some point?”

Collier turned to him for the first time. He looked both younger and older at once, completely lost. “I didn’t know how. Five, ten, fifteen years ago – yeah, I woulda known then. But now – now you’re nothing but Ghost. Kenny’s all gone. And I didn’t figure Ghost would want to hear this.”

Ghost sighed and let the window frame catch his weight. “This has nothing to do with me. Which, by the way, I can be both. I’m Kenny, and Ghost. Don’t fucking separate the two.” He folded his arms and glared at his VP. “You’re not gonna give me a sad face and get off scot free ‘cause you’ve got twisted-up feelings. You killed a member of this club, Collier. And you lied about it. That’s a big fucking deal.” He heard the fatherly note to his voice, and didn’t care. This felt like the sort of conversation he ought to be having with Aidan, not his most-trusted brother.

“We have rules in this club. Laws. And we have them for a reason,” he continued. “You broke so many of them…” He made a face. “And you didn’t even have the balls to come tell me. You ran off to hide and let your wife defend you.”

“I didn’t say I was proud.”

“Then what are you?” Ghost snapped.

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