Page 1 of Ghost's Revenge
Chapter 1 - Ghost
The nightmare always starts the same way.
I'm back in Kandahar, the desert heat pressing down, and the IED blast echoes through my skull like thunder that won't stop. My hands shake as I reach for the bottle of whiskey on my nightstand, the amber liquid burning away the taste of sand and blood that lingers in my mouth.
Four-thirty in the morning. Same time I wake up every fucking day.
I drain what's left in the bottle and set it down harder than necessary, the glass clinking against the wood. The sound cuts through the silence of my apartment, sharp and final. Like the crack of gunfire.
My breathing is still ragged, heart hammering against my ribs like it's trying to break free. The scar cutting through my left eyebrow throbs. Phantom pain from a wound that healed years ago but never really left me. Nothing ever really leaves you. The shrinks at the VA tried to tell me that was normal, part of the process. They had a lot of fancy words for what was wrong with me, but none of them could fix it.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and plant my feet on the cold hardwood floor. The chill grounds me, pulls me back from the edge where the memories wait to drag me under. Six-foot-four and built like the brick shithouse everyone says I am, but in these moments right after the dreams, I feel small. Broken.
The shower water is scalding, but I don't adjust the temperature. Pain has always been easier to deal with than the numbness. At least pain means I'm still here, still breathing, still fighting whatever demons live in my head. I let the water pound againstmy shoulders until my skin turns red, washing away the cold sweat from another night of reliving what I can never change.
By the time I'm dressed in my usual black jeans and club t-shirt, the sun is starting to creep over Pine Haven's skyline. From my window, I can see the main strip coming to life. Early commuters grabbing coffee, shop owners unlocking their doors, the small town’s rhythm that doesn't know how close it came to being swallowed by a battle just a few days ago.
We won that fight, but barely. Charles escaped, which means it's not over. It's never really over.
My phone buzzes on the dresser. Text from Reaper: *Clubhouse at 8. Important.*
As VP of the Outlaw Order MC, I'm usually the first to know what's going on, but lately, Reaper's been keeping things close to his chest. Can't blame him. Having Evelyn in his life changed things, made him more careful about what risks he's willing to take. Same thing happened to Wilder with Emma. Both of them found something worth protecting beyond the club.
Good for them. I mean that. These men are my brothers, the only family I've ever had that didn't hurt me, and they deserve every piece of happiness they can grab in this fucked-up world. But watching them build something beautiful just reminds me of all the reasons why that kind of life isn't meant for someone like me.
I grab my leather jacket and keys, heading downstairs to where my Harley waits. The morning air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine and exhaust fumes. Pine Haven might not be much to look at, but it's ours. Every street, every building, every person living here falls under our protection. It's a responsibility I don't take lightly.
The ride to the clubhouse takes fifteen minutes through streets I could navigate blindfolded. Past the bar where we rescued those trafficked women. Past the shelter where—
I cut that thought off before it can fully form. The Pine Haven Women's Shelter sits on the corner of Maple and Third, a converted Victorian house painted soft yellow like it's trying to be welcoming. Like it's trying to say *safe haven* without using the words. I've driven past it hundreds of times, but I never really looked at it. Not until last week.
Not until I saw her... But now isn’t the time to think about it. I must focus.
The clubhouse parking lot is already full when I arrive. Reaper's bike is here, along with Wilder's bike and the others. Whatever this meeting is about, it's all hands on deck. I kill the engine and head inside, where the familiar scent of leather, oil, and stale beer greets me like an old friend.
"Ghost." Reaper nods from behind the bar where he's nursing a cup of coffee that smells strong enough to wake the dead. "You look like shit."
"Feel like it too." I pour myself coffee from the pot, grateful for something to do with my hands. "What's the emergency?"
"Intel came in about Charles. He's been quiet too long." Reaper's jaw tightens. "Word is he's planning something big. Not just revenge. Something that'll make the trafficking operation look like child's play."
The coffee turns to ash in my mouth. A few days of relative peace, and now this. "Source reliable?"
"Reliable enough. We're going to need to step up patrols, increase security around the families." His eyes find mine. "That includes expanding our protection details."
I know where this is heading. "Reaper—"
"The shelter, Ghost. Those women and children are sitting ducks if Charles decides to use them as leverage."
My hands clench around the coffee mug. "They're not our responsibility."
"Everything in Pine Haven is our responsibility. You know that." He leans forward, his president's voice cutting through any argument I might make. "I need someone I trust watching over them. Someone who understands what we're up against. Someone who understands what those women have gone through. Besides, didn’t you say you saw a pretty woman living there? First time you said that about anyone in years."
“I don’t remember.”
The rest of the brothers file in before Reaper can reply. Wilder looking like he didn't sleep much either, Blade cracking his knuckles the way he does when he's itching for a fight, Ace and Viper flanking the prospects who hover near the back like they're afraid of taking up too much space. This is my family, these damaged men who found brotherhood in the chaos. But the idea of being responsible for a shelter full of vulnerable women makes my skin crawl.
Not because I don't want to protect them. Because I'm terrified of what might happen if I lose control around them.
