Page 41 of Ghost
She laughs nervously. “Yep. Gimme a minute.”
“No problem.”
Music fills the air, as well as laughter from inside. The party is in full swing. It’s not an open party where outsiders are welcome, other than Ember of course, which is good because I didn’t want to overwhelm her.
“What if they don’t like me?” she asks, her voice cutting through my thoughts.
“They’re gonna love you. Besides, you already know Crow and Addison. As for the rest, I’m sure you’ll recognize some from town.”
“Knowing and recognizing someone doesn’t mean they’ll like me.”
“You worry too much.”
She scrunches her nose. “Probably.”
I grab her hand and tug her inside, deciding that we need to treat this like ripping off a Band-Aid. The quicker, the better.
“Ember!” Crow shouts as soon as we step over the threshold. He makes his way toward us and wraps her in a hug before she can stop him. “It’s about time this asshat let you out for a night of fun.”
And just like that, her nervousness vanishes. She laughs, and it’s genuine this time, not tinged with a hint of apprehension.
“He’s a harsh taskmaster, isn’t he?” she counters, grinning at Pres.
Blood rushes to my cock at her words. Okay, fine, only one word triggers my reaction: master.
I’ve never considered myself dominant or a man who needs their woman to be submissive, but maybe I should try it out. My dick certainly wants me to.
“He’s a big ol’ softy,” Addison chimes in when she joins us.
“Hey, now,” I chide. “Watch it.”
“Says the man scoldingmyold lady,” Crow snarls, taking a step closer to me.
“Down, boy,” Addison says, patting him on the chest. “I can handle Ghost.”
Crow grunts then turns his attention back to Ember. “Make yourself at home, have a few drinks, meet the brothers. We can catch up later.”
Sometimes I forget that Crow and Ember have known each other as long as he and I have. We all grew up in Marble Falls, as did Addison, but we didn’t always run in the same circles.
“Thanks,” Em says.
“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the rest of ‘em.”
I lead her toward the bar where Journey is sitting with his old lady, Wren. Silently, I send up a prayer that Wren is actually Wren and not one of her alters. I still haven’t figured out who is who.
“You must be Ember,” Journey greets when we reach them. “I’m Journey, VP of all these bastards.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Wren.” She thrusts her hand out to shake Ember’s. “His better half,” she continues, tilting her head to indicate Journey.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Ember says as I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. She glances at me. “What’s wrong with you?”
“He was worried that he wouldn’t know who I was,” Wren says, saving me from answering. When Ember looks at her with confusion wrinkling her forehead, Wren explains. “I’ve got dissociative identity disorder, or multiple personalities. I’m pretty good at recognizing triggers and avoiding them, thanks to therapy and medication, but sometimes one of the twelve will pop out of nowhere and fuck with the people around me.”
“Twelve?” Ember asks.
“Yep. Aren’t I a lucky girl?” Wren teases, able to joke about it now that she’s found love with my brother.
