Our voices are hushed to make sure the rest of the house isn’t woken by our attempts to find solid ground. It’s as if the entire world has paused outside these walls while our marriage teeters on the edge of something fragile and potentially earth-shattering.
My fingers tangle in the soft blond locks at the nape of his neck and pull, urging him up from the ground. He interprets my wordless demand and stands, hesitation written between his worried brows.
“I’ll come home. Let Haley wake up and have breakfast with Sienna, Pierce promised them pancake sundaes.”
He doesn’t look happy, but it’s the best I can offer when the uncertainty coursing through my system threatens to take over, decimating the inch of progress we’ve made.
Soft lips press against my forehead, calling forth a wave of melancholy so strong my knees almost buckle.
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
Then, like a ghost summoned from another time, he vanishes out the window before my eyes. My back hits the wall with a hollow thud before my body slides to the floor in a heap.
I have hours to get my head on straight. Figure out what’s warring inside me against the words and genuine efforts of a man desperate to cling to his crumbling life.
GHOSTING THROUGH THE TRUTH
VIKING
The officewe’re supposed to avoid looms out of the windshield. I should have asked him to meet me at the clubhouse, keep his anonymity safe, but the guys don’t know what’s going on with me. With the Covington chapter headed this way next week, I need their focus on that, and not my life crumbling at the seams.
Sun-bleached brick blends into the miscellany of businesses on this offshoot of Main Street. Ghost’s pride shines through in the polished tinted windows and gleaming brass plate beside the door. It reads “Attorney At Law”, like the man inside spends his life arguing over contracts instead of riding a Harley with a cut folded in the back of his closet. He’s a man of many secrets.
People stroll by, popping in and out of the shops that keep our little town from feeling like it’s completely lost to the times. We have everything those enjoying a slower, simpler life could need and nothing those from the big cities seek out, keeping us off the beaten path and stuck—happily—in our way of life.
Happy. That feeling’s a distant memory of late. Josie stillwasn’t back by the time I left this morning, wanting to get this handled, to maybe find some solid ground before she walks back in the door and shakes things up again.
Funny how something as simple as a kid can make the world feel like it’s suddenly balanced on the tip of a needle. I didn’t feel that when Haley was born. When the doctor handed her to me, all pink and pissed at the world, something clicked into place. I knew I’d have her back until my last breath left my body. That I’d do everything and anything in my power to make sure that little girl never wanted for anything. Yet, here comes Trenton, my firstborn, who got none of that because I wasn’t there to offer. It kills me every time I think about it. So I don’t, shoving it away and stepping out of my truck.
A young woman startles as I push the front door open, even tucked behind the protection of a thick wooden desk, she eyes me cautiously. The office smells of coffee and one of those air fresheners Josie’s always complaining about, the kind that gives people headaches without them realizing it. Soft waiting room music fills the space, and it makes me want to bark out with laughter at how different this is from the man I know.
She straightens, standing, finally switching into business mode. “Good morning, Mr. Nevett has a meeting this morning. Can I help you with something?” she asks, reaching for a small pad of paper and a pen.
The man in question comes around the corner, a steaming mug of coffee clutched in one hand, the other full of papers he’s looking over, not paying attention to his surroundings, until he hears her voice.
“Ahh, Vik, there you are. Please hold my calls, Valerie. I’ll be in my office.”
His eyes soften as he asks Valerie the question, and myinterest piques. The girl’s got to be twenty years younger than him, but I know that look. It’s full of adoration.
He turns to me, nodding toward an open office door. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
Shutting the door behind me, I drop into one of the clean leather office chairs across from his desk. “No, I’m good. But what’s going on there?” I tilt my head toward the girl on the other side of the door.
Ghost laughs and shakes his head. “That’s my daughter, you fucking prick.”
Daughter, since when does he have a fucking daughter?
I want to ask the questions piling up in my head, but Ghost leans back in his chair. His sleeves are rolled halfway up his forearms, tattoos peeking out just enough to remind anyone who knows him that the law isn’t the only code he follows. I know our club emblem’s hidden under the pocket of his suit jacket, which currently has a handkerchief tucked into it. His dark hair’s pulled back in a low tie, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, while he looks over a stack of papers before tucking them away into a file folder.
Finally looking up, he takes me in before saying, “You look like shit.”
“Been a long week.”
“No doubt. A kid knocking on the club door will have that effect. Thank god y’all we’re out of town, and Josie intercepted him. I’m sure you’d never hear the end of it if it’d been one of the guys.”
I think I’d have rather dealt with the shit comments from my brothers than the mess Josie finding out first caused my marriage.
“So,” he says. “Kid’s yours.”