Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
I walked for a while. Just ambled around the compound, thinking. Not about what I needed to say to Ghost, though. He’d get the truth no matter what. I just needed to process my feelings for Rocky. Because, I knew Ghost would demand to know how I felt about the guy. Despite hearing the damning conversation myself, I couldn’t say I hated Rocky. Like I told Jack, something didn’t feel right to me. Maybe I didn’t want to believe I could have been so horribly wrong about someone. But I couldn’t reconcile the man who’d touched me so reverently with a man who could traffic women and girls.
Once I gave myself a good talking to for being a coward, I climbed the stairs to the apartment I shared with Ghost with leaden feet. Part of me hoped Ghost had given up waiting and gone to bed. Fat chance of that, but a girl could hope. As I pushed open the door, darkness greeted me, broken only by a sliver of moonlight cutting through the blinds. It illuminated a tall figure by the window, arms crossed over his chest. Ghost stood motionless, his silver-streaked hair catching the dim light, his face in shadow. I'd known he'd be here. Still, my heart sank.
"Where have you been?" His voice cut through the darkness, deceptively calm. I knew that tone. The quieter Ghost spoke, the angrier he was.
I flipped on the light switch, flooding the small living room with the overhead light. Ghost didn't flinch, didn't blink. Just watched me with those steel-gray eyes that never missed a thing.
"Out," I replied, tossing my keys onto the counter where they skittered across the surface. My hands still shook. I hoped he wouldn't notice.
He noticed. Ghost always noticed. His gaze flicked to my hands, then back to my face. "Out where?"
I shrugged off my jacket, buying time. My movements felt mechanical, disconnected from the storm still raging inside me. "Just riding. Needed to clear my head."
"For four hours? With your phone turned off?" He uncrossed his arms, took a step toward me. "Try again, Wren."
Unlike Bloody Jack, Ghost didn't need size to intimidate. His presence alone filled the space, made the air feel thinner somehow. "What happened with the Copperhead?" he asked, his voice dropping even lower. I froze. My mind raced through possibilities. Jack couldn't have called him already. He knew I wanted to be the one to tell Ghost. "Don't lie to me either, Wren."
I lifted my chin, forced myself to meet his gaze. I hadn’t wanted to sound defensive or even try to justify my actions, but I also hadn’t expected Ghost to confront me first. Sometimes with Ghost, my default was to be on the defensive. I didn’t want to be, but I seemed to always let him down about something. Not intentionally, but I tended to be a bit… impulsive. On occasion. "I didn't tell him anything about the club, Ghost. I'm not stupid."
Ghost's jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. "That's not what I asked."
"That's all you need to know."
"The hell it is." He ran a hand through his hair, a rare display of frustration breaking through his usual control. "You think I don't know you've been seeing him? That I don't have brothers keeping eyes on you?"
The revelation shouldn't have surprised me, but it stung anyway. "So you've been spying on me?"
"Protecting you," he corrected. "And a good thing I was. Do you have any idea what the Copperheads would do if they thought you had information they wanted? What they'd do to you?"
I crossed my arms over my chest, mirroring his stance. "Nothing happened," I repeated. "I didn't compromise the club."
"Fuck the club," Ghost snapped, his voice rising for the first time. "I'm talking about you, Wren! You! You think I give a shit about club secrets when your life could be in danger?"
The raw concern in his voice caught me off guard. I dropped my gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. Tears pooled in my eyes then fell as I tried to blink them back. "I cut it off," I said quietly. "Tonight. Found out who he really was."
Ghost was silent for a moment, digesting this. "How?"
I shook my head, pressing my lips together.
"Wren—"
"It's over. Done. I'm not seeing him again."
Ghost studied me, his sharp eyes taking in my disheveled appearance, the redness around my eyes, the slight tremble in my hands that wouldn't stop no matter how tightly I clenched them… and the man’s T-shirt I forgot I was wearing. Understanding dawned in his expression, followed quickly by a flash of rage that made me take an involuntary step back.
"Did he hurt you?" The question was dangerously soft.
"No," I said quickly. "Not like that. I overheard a phone call… you know. After." I shook my head. “I wasn’t supposed to hear.”