Steelwas president. He’d literally built the club from the ground up. For eight years, he’d run the club like a well-oiled machine, always two steps ahead of everything. Until fate had kicked the man in the balls and delivered him a diagnosis no one had been prepared for: Jenna, his ol’ lady, wife, and love of hislife had MS. It was late-onset, and developing fast. As much as Steel loved the club, his priority was Jenna.
He’d put it up for a vote, allowing the club to choose their next leader. Ghost had thought Lucky was the best man for the job, but the VP had openly stated that he didn’t want it. He was happy as VP, and with two little ones at home, plus a wife and Scotty, he didn’t want the added responsibility. Which made Ghost look to Bulldog, but he hadfourkids at home at the time and he was also satisfied remaining as SAA. Both Lucky and Bulldog stated they would take on the mantle of presidency if the club voted them in, but did encourage the club to look elsewhere.
Ghost had voted for Papaw. He wasn’t an officer, but he had a level head. Additionally, he’d been Steel’s own training officer in the Marines Corps sniper school. He didn’t have young kids and was retired.
When the votes had been tallied and Ghost’s name had been announced, he was pretty sure he knew exactly how Harry Potter felt when his name was pulled from the Goblet of Fire. He’d even wondered if it was a weird dream, like the ones he’d had during BUD/s training when he would show up for graduation naked.
But somehow, someway, Ghost had survived his first year as president. There’d been plenty of bloodshed and heartache. Melanie’s murder had been horrific, and unlike the club had originally thought, just a fucked up act of fate. She’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, taking the bullets meant for someone else.
Knowing that didn’t stop the hurt, though. The feeling of failure, of knowing there was nothing they could have done to stop a young woman, their club niece, a girl at the prime of her life, an innocent, from dying. It was… Itstillwas difficult to swallow.
Scotty wasn’t the only one to take the news hard. Cassie’s panic attacks had returned. While her agoraphobia had its gooddays and bad ones, she’d generally been able to power through to walk herself down to Bree’s house or even to the clubhouse. Not anymore. At one point, she hadn’t been able to get herself to leave her own bedroom. Bree and Cassie had been close to Melanie, despite being two years younger than her.
Things were different, changing. Ghost was trying to hold the club together, to be the leader worthy of their confidence and vote. Even if it meant he hadn’t been on a date in a year and a half, barely got more than a few hours of sleep per night, and had a to-do list longer than Peter Jackson’sHobbitfilms.
As Ghost pushed his bike over to position himself next to Lucky, he had the oddest feeling of sorrow. ‘Imposter syndrome’, the club’s psychiatrist called it. No matter what he did, it would never feel good enough. Because deep down, Ghost knew he’d never be able to fill the shoes he’d replaced.
It waspast midnight by the time Ghost put his head down on his pillow. After the poker run had concluded, there’d been clean up and ensuring everyone’s night accommodations were set. Several of the visiting clubs were staying at hotels and motels in the area because they lived too far away following a night run. Then Ghost headed to the station to see what had happened with the bootlegger. That was when Ghost had learned the reason for the brawl, and it hadn’t been a competitor’s dispute or an argument between customer and supplier. It had been between partners, who both wanted the highest share.
Fucking idiots.
Ghost’s house was the closest to the clubhouse. Back when the club had been a ranch, it had been the owner’s house. Then the property had been bought out by a distillery, whichhad renovated the building that was now the clubhouse from a barn to a showroom. During those years, the house hadn’t been lived in much and had been neglected on the inside, though the outside had been kept up for appearance’s sake. When the club bought it, the house had been renovated to be the president’s.
It still felt like the president’s house… Just not the current one’s.
Ranger had moved in with Ghost when Steel and Jenna had moved out, taking their teenage son with them. Due to Jenna’s growing mobility hardships, some renovations had been done to the house in the months prior to them leaving. Removing the chair lift from the stairs and the bars from the showers had been easy, but the walk-in bathtub had stayed.
Melanie’s room had stayed. Her furniture and belongings were gone, the room sitting empty. Not even the dust appeared to move within, like the area had been placed in a state of chronostasis.
Ranger had the room downstairs that had been transformed from den into bedroom when Jenna had been unable to do the stairs any longer, even with the aid of the chair lift. The two had shared the apartment over the bar, so them rooming together was nothing new. Still, despite them living together, the house felt empty, desolate. Like it was missing a key figure.
The shower did little to calm Ghost, the stiffness in his shoulders perpetually too tight these days.
One of the changes the club had made in the past several years was to abolish the position of ‘Honey’ within the club. In the beginning, the club had been made up of mostly bachelors. Steel had been the only one married with kids and Lucky had been a single father. No one else had attachments, so when the bylaws were being made and the question of patch bunnies came up, no one had objections other than to call them something sweeter. The position of a Honey wasn’t just to sleep with themembers, though. They were also responsible for housekeeping and cooking for the brothers. And it had been good for a while. The club partied more, both privately and with the public back then. The Honeys were, for lack of a better word, fun.
But the more ol’ ladies that were added to the club, the more issues the Honeys caused, leading to two of them being executed after plotting with an outlaw club to kidnap one of the VDMC for information. The remaining ones were let go, though two now worked at the bar as waitresses only.
Getting into bed naked, Ghost had to admit, he missed the convenience of easy pussy and no commitment. He’d kill for a blowjob right about now, but unfortunately, the closest thing he had was the fleshlight in his top nightstand drawer. How bad was it that even that seemed too strenuous a task?
Putting his phone on the charger, he pulled up his podcast app. A movie buff, he’d listened to a lot of different ones over the years, and only recently discovered a new one that had quickly risen to the top as his favorite.
The narrator ofThe Cat Livespodcast was a woman with the sultriest voice Ghost had ever heard. And while he listened to her point of views on movies and thought her insightful, there was something about her voice that got to him. Like she was talking directly into his ear rather than a microphone. It fascinated him, captivated him, and fuck yeah, it had his cock saluting faster than a soldier to a general.
After pressing Play, he grabbed out the lube bottle and several tissues. Ghost settled back into his pillow and dropped a dollop of lube onto his palm as the podcast picked up in the middle of the episode he’d last been listening to.
“…not sayingShawshankisn’t a cinematic masterpiece. It’s personally one of my favorite go-to movies. But it is no way ‘underrated’, which is what today’s topic is supposed to be. Soif you don’t have another suggestion, I am going to respectfully ask you to allow the next caller on so we can get their opinion.”
“You don’t have to be such a know-it-all, Rebel.”That was a man’s voice, and certainly not something Ghost wanted to listen to as he masturbated. He’d forgotten that this episode had been a debate with guest callers about the most underrated movies. He thought about switching to the next episode that was just Rebel, the host, talking, but he hesitated. It didn’t matter to him that this episode was a recording and there was absolutely nothing he could do if the caller got nasty to her.
But thankfully the caller hung up and she moved onto the next caller. Ghost relaxed slightly. He’d never used Keys to find out who Rebel was, because that felt like crossing a line, but he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to have Keys find the caller if he’d gotten rude with Rebel so Ghost could hunt him down and teach him a lesson on how to speak to women.
Not wanting to listen to anyone else but Rebel, Ghost did move onto the next episode, starting to work his fist up and down his cock again.
“Welcome toThe Cat LivesPodcast! I’m your host, Rebel, and this is Episode 722. Today we’re going to be discussing the pros and cons of using CGI in movies, and why you should avoid them if you don’t have the budget forgoodCGI effects. And trust me when I say, I haveplentyof bad examples…”
CHAPTER 2
Ghost needed coffee. Either that or a joint. Unfortunately, though, he had far too much to do today to risk getting high, because with how tense he was, he wouldn’t stop at just one hit.
