Page 2 of Ghost
“I can’t marry you.”
CHAPTER 1
GHOST
And… she’s gone.
Present day…
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I slow my steps and turn around to face Crow, my president, and the tension in my body intensifies almost painfully. He’s wearing a scowl that no doubt matches my own but for a very different reason.
“What does it look like?” I snap, momentarily having a lapse in judgment and forgetting who I’m talking to.
He narrows his eyes. “Excuse me?”
Heaving a sigh, I force my posture to relax. “Sorry, Pres. I, uh…” I scrub my hands down my face. “Another one quit.”
Immediately, his anger deflates. “Jesus, I’m sorry. That makes what, four?”
I huff out a humorless laugh. “Five.”
“Have you talked to Addison?” he asks.
Addison is Crow’s old lady, and she’s also a cop with deeper community ties than Soulless Kings MC. He’s been telling mefor months to ask her if she knows any home health nurses that would be good for my mom.
“Haven’t had the chance.”
“Look, go do what you have to do,” he orders. “You’ve got a pass on church. But dammit, talk to Addison when you get back. She can help.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me shit,” he scoffs. “But next time you have to bail on church because of something to do with your mom, let someone know.”
“Yeah, okay.” I turn to walk out the clubhouse door but glance over my shoulder. “Crow?”
“Huh?”
“Thanks. I mean it.”
He nods once and spins on his heel. I continue outside to my Harley, mentally preparing myself for what I know is going to be a rough interaction.
As I ride across town, I let my mind wander.
Excitement buzzes through my system as I climb the concrete steps to a porch I’ve missed since I’ve been in Oregon. It’s been almost a year since my last visit, and I miss my mom. Her neighbor called me a week ago to tell me she was worried about her, so I made the trek for a visit.
“Mom!” I call out after stepping into my childhood home, a wave of nostalgia washing over me. “Hey, Mom!”
The living room is empty, so I make my way to the kitchen, knowing that’s where she has to be with as much as she loves to bake. When I find it empty as well, my stomach knots, and I search faster.
“Mom? Where are you?”
I start to turn toward the hallway when movement outside the kitchen window catches my eye. My mom is standing in the yard, her back to the house, and her shoulders hunched.
“Hey, Mom,” I say when I step through the sliding glass door that sits right off the kitchen. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Slowly, she turns around, and my stomach bottoms out. She’s got dark circles under her eyes, and her skin is pale.
