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Hammer finally looked at him. “I know.”

“She’s running,” Ghost said.

“Know that too,” Hammer grumbled.

“Question is, from what?” Ghost asked.

Hammer crossed his arms over his chest. “Or who,” he breathed.

“Exactly.” Ghost glanced back at the clubhouse. Monster was still inside talking to Larry the fucking skeleton like the thing was a prospect who'd screwed up. Every year, their Prez lost his damn mind around Halloween, and Ghost usually enjoyed it, but this year, he had something more interesting to occupy his time.

“Come on,” he said.

“Where are we going?” Hammer asked.

“Inside,” Ghost said.

“I thought you were going back to bed,” Hammer reminded.

“Changed my mind,” Ghost said.

Hammer narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

Ghost grinned. “Because I want to know who our girl is.”

“Our girl?” Hammer asked.

“You got a problem with that?” Ghost questioned.

“Nope,” Hammer said.

“Didn't think so.” They headed inside. Monster looked up when they walked through the door.

“You two done having your romantic moment in the parking lot?” he joked.

“Fuck off,” Ghost said.

Monster grinned. “Touchy.”

Ghost ignored him and headed toward the back hallway. “Hammer,” he called over his shoulder.

“What?” Jackhammer asked.

“Get coffee,” Ghost ordered.

“Get your own damn coffee,” Hammer growled.

“I have work to do,” Ghost insisted.

“What work?” Hammer asked.

Ghost kept walking. “I’m going to find out who Angel is.” That got Hammer moving. By the time Ghost reached the small office the club used for security, Hammer was right behind him with two mugs of steaming hot coffee.

“Since when do you know how to find people?” Hammer asked.

“I don't.” Ghost dropped into the chair in front of the computer.

Hammer handed him a mug. “So, what the fuck are we doing?”