PROLOGUE
Ghost shook his head, smiling to himself as one of the Honeys lowered herself between Bear’s spread legs. The club’s road captain was a big guy, but a teddy bear at heart. Women flocked to him like bees to honey, and Bear ate up the attention, both in public and in private. Of all Ghost’s brothers, Bear was probably the most similar to him when it came to kinks, but Ghost had no desire to be watched as Bear did. No, everything he and a woman did would be for their pleasure only.
His best friend and club brother, Ranger, was sitting at the clubhouse bar, watching the show. The two nodded to each other as Ghost passed. Ranger had had a late night at the bar they co-managed in town,Demon on the Rocks, and had come to the clubhouse this early at Ghost’s request.
Their other brothers constantly made fun of the bromance between Ranger and Ghost. It didn’t bother Ghost in the slightest. Ghost had finally found someone he could connect with. After spending his entire adolescence in foster care, Ghost had joined the Navy and eventually became a SEAL. He had his team, fellow sailors he would live and die for, but there was still a disconnect, a distance between him and them. It wasn’t untilhe came to Mount Grove, Pennsylvania, and found his place among a motorcycle club, of all things, that Ghost truly started to understand the meaning of ‘family’. And the fact that he’d also gotten a best friend out of the deal?
Yeah, the brothers could poke fun at them all day long. As Clark Gable had so elegantly put it,“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
Ghost headed toward one of the two offices under the stairs of the clubhouse. Most of the brothers were at work. A few Honeys were about, either cleaning or with a brother. It wasn’t even ten in the morning yet, so Ghost wasn’t surprised by how empty the clubhouse was. Tonight would be a very different story.
He wrapped his knuckles on the door, and waited. When a terse “Enter!” came from within, Ghost opened the door. Steel, the club’s president and founder, sat behind his desk. Rather than paperwork or a computer in front of him, though, there was a partly built child’s bassinet.
Ghost leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “Something you need to tell us, Prez?”
Steel’s expression didn’t change. It rarely did. He’d gotten his moniker in the Marines for having a ‘face like steel’. For nearly the entirety of Ghost’s time as a prospect, he’d wondered if the man evencouldsmile. He was a hard man, clinical, and calculating—and it was only around his ol’ lady, Jenna, and his children, one of which was married, the other about to enter college, and the other in high school, that Steel showed any emotion.
Well, them and Scotty. But who could resist that lovable goof? The club’s VP, Lucky, had a teenage son with Down syndrome, who had won the heart of every hardened warrior who entered this club.
“Carter and Lucy announced last night that they’re trying to get pregnant. Jenna wants this built so we can give it to them as a Congratulations present as soon as they know for certain.” His gunmetal-gray eyes narrowed on the crib. “Damn thing has more little parts than an M13.”
Ghost chuckled slightly. “I can’t imagine, but then kids aren’t likely to be in my future.”
Steel turned his all-too-knowing gaze on Ghost. “One thing in this life that’s always certain is how uncertain it is. Now, why are you bothering my bassinet-building time?”
Ghost straightened off the doorframe. “There’s something I want to run by you. Bulldog was talking about increasing security, but wasn’t sure how and what tech was best to use. I want to bring on a prospect who would be able to help him with that.”
Steel raised an eyebrow. “You know the rules for bringing on a prospect. Why are you coming to me about it?”
“Well, this would be an unusual situation, and it might need to be voted on before I go get him.”
Steel put down the Allen wrench. “I’m listening.”
“I know this kid. Graduated high school at fourteen, went to MIT at fifteen. Pulled a prank on the Pentagon that landed him in the Navy rather than jail. He’s out now. And he’s wicked smart, Steel. Social cues are lacking, but he’s young.”
“How young?”
“Nineteen, or thereabouts.”
Steel frowned. “How is he out when he’s only nineteen?”
“That’s where this is an unusual situation. He’s got an Other Than Honorable discharge. I don’t know the full story, but I do know Caspian. He’s a good kid, Steel. And he’s out there on his own right now, with no guidance.”
Steel sat back in his chair for a long time, contemplating. “Bring him in. Once he’s here and got a roof over his head, we’ll assess his situation and vote.”
Ghost let out a low sigh of relief. “Thank you, Steel. I tracked him to the southside of D.C., but don’t have him specifically pinned down. Might take a few days.”
Steel nodded once, sitting forward and picking up the Allen wrench again. “Take Ranger with you. We’ll figure out the bar schedule without the two of you.”
That had been Ghost’s next question, wanting Ranger to go with him. As always, Steel was one step ahead. “Thank you. We’ll be back in a few days, a week tops.”
“Keep me posted.”
Ward Eight was nota place one should walk around at night without a care in the world. Ranger and Ghost glanced at each other as they saw the lanky kid with his headphones on and hoodie up walk down the sidewalk. He didn’t even notice them standing at the corner as he passed, his head bent over some gaming device in his hands.
Dogs barked and people shouted, yet this kid kept on walking. He didn’t even pause when a car backfired or sirens went whirling past. Completely oblivious to his surroundings, he only stopped what he was doing long enough to open a creaking, black gate and head down a set of concrete steps to what looked to be the basement of a townhouse.
Ghost followed, Ranger right on his heels.
