“Why not? You have a boyfriend?”
I can tell this man has already had a few drinks in him, but he isn’t ugly. Far from it. Most of the bikers I’ve seen are way older and greasier. He looks like a muscular giant with a gentle and handsome face that contrasts his more terrifying physique.
“No. I don’t.”
I’m not used to saying that yet.
“Well, I’m not looking for trouble with you,” he says. “My personal life is a mess. I just want to buy a pretty lady a drink. Stop thinking about my shit for a while.”
Wow. I can relate to that.
“One drink. But then I’m going back to my sister, okay?”
Chapter Four
Ghost
When I first sat down at this bar, I told myself I wouldn’t allow myself any distractions. I’m here for business – and not alone. Zebulon came to the city from his place in the midwest after a special meeting with Magnum Sinclair and the rest of the club board members. The two of us led a convoy with the men Wyatt ordered out to Boston to establish a beta chapter of the Rebel Barbarians Motorcycle Club. Most of us are already at this bar – Mulligan’s – in South Boston owned by the youngest member of the biggest Irish mob family out here.
They’re good people and solid allies, but I hate feeling like a fish out of water and I still miss the fuck out of the kids. Wyatt might be right that I need a distraction, but even the pressures and dangers of underwater welding couldn’t keep me from thinking about my kids.
I tell myself the money I get out here can set us up for a while and I won’t have to work. I’ll get them back from Tylee, get them a little bit of counseling and send them to a private school or something. If I have to be away from my kids, it’s going to be because I’m working to get them a better life.
I trust the club. Wyatt has big plans and after crunching the numbers, Magnum thinks it’ll work – I would never take a business deal with a gambler without running the numbers by my wiser family members. No offense to the Shaws. They’re not bad men, for the most part, just prone to vices and self-destruction. Wyatt and Magnum both think there’s potential to break into other urban markets nearby once we establish supply lines through the greater Boston area. We would be crazy as fuck to try New York considering the Italian mafia controls everything down there – and what the mob doesn’t control falls under the jurisdiction of various Puerto Rican or Black city gangs…
But Providence might have potential. Especially if the government sends their men down there to terrorize folks.
The music at the bar does nothing to take my mind off churning between business and the kids. Then that woman walks in – the short black woman with the curves. I’ve always loved rare women – red heads, dark-skinned women, women with vitiligo, stretch marks… anything that makes a woman stand out from the typical rural girl hanging around motorcycle clubs.
I’ve only been with two women – Tylee and a friend of mine that I hooked up with to make Tylee jealous. I’m not proud of how I treated her, mind you, but those are the only women I’ve been with. Since I was fifteen, I thought the world didn’t get better than Tylee. I don’t know what the hell went wrong with us.
But I can blot it out of my mind for a quick second when I look over my shoulder and see this dark-skinned creature who walks with so much alluring grace that I can’t look away from her. By my age, you learn the art of a quick sneaky glance. I can’t help but gawk at this woman.Fuck.
I turn and face my drink, hoping she didn’t notice my staring. But I can’t help checking over my shoulder a few times forwhere she’s sitting. I want to know where she is in this bar, as if she’s already mine. I don’t even know her name and frankly, I’m a fucking mess.
“When the fuck are Cody and Christian going to get here?” I grumble at Zeb, who should have told those assholes there would be severe consequences for lateness. Unfortunately, while I have most of the guys here, we’re still missing two of the new recruits and Ethan. The two of us are meant to set down roots in the east together by Wyatt’s command. Despite our closeness in age, I’ve never been close to Ethan Shaw. He’s a difficult stone of a man to get close to.
I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking of buying this woman a drink. I saw her the second she walked in and told myself that I was here for business only and didn’t want to lose my focus. Then she walked over to me and I had to follow my heart – or the liquor. I can’t tell which one is in charge right now.
“What’s your name before I get that drink?”
“Gabrielle.”
“Pretty name.”
“Ghost?”
“Isaac.”
She nods. “Great. Are you from Boston?”
I don’t want her to know anything about me. It’s a strange urge, honestly, but the second I look at Gabrielle, I don’t want to be Isaac Sinclair, the guy who screwed up his marriage. The guy who let his ex-wife run off with his kids. I just want to be… Ghost. Whoever she wants me to be.
“Doesn’t matter,” I answer, keeping us focused on the task at hand. “Beer?”
“I already had one,” she says, a shy smile crossing her face that I personally find endearing. My stomach does a little tumble and I feel something that I don’t remember ever feeling.It’s different from yearning. A more powerful drink might help both of us.
“Whiskey?”