Vindication: A Motorcycle Club Romance (16 page)

~
SIXTEEN ~

Bridget

Bridget basically pounced on Ghost the second he
showed up to her house, but not in the way he was wishing for.

“We’ve got an in!” she said to him
excitedly when she met him at the door.

“Nice!” he wrapped her in a hug. “An
in to what?”

“To help Toby.”

Ghost’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Bridget opened her right fist and
presented him with a small, crumpled piece of paper. As Ghost took it and read
it, Bridget explained. “I found this in my bag this morning when I started
taking out all my work to grade. Someone sneaked it in there when I wasn’t
looking.”

Ghost frowned, reading aloud. “
I
got your messages. I can’t run. Please help.”

“It’s Miranda Cary. It’s Toby’s mom.”

Ghost looked stunned. He read and
re-read the note. “What the fuck? How did you know?”

Adrenaline charging through her
veins, Bridget couldn’t help but pace the foyer. “I noticed Toby’s anxiety
months ago, and I kept trying to contact the Cary family about it, but I
couldn’t ever get a hold of anyone. I figured it was something medical they
didn’t want to talk about and almost had just become used to it until that
silent phone call the other week, which put all this in motion.” She pointed at
the note. “
Someone
had to hear those messages I sent, even if they
didn’t reply. It’s likely that
someone
told Toby to hide and call me
that night, even if he didn’t know what to do about it once he did call me. If
Miranda thought I suspected something was wrong, wouldn’t it make sense that I
would be the one she would have Toby call?”

“Of course,” said Ghost.

“She knows I suspect something’s
wrong with Toby. And I’d bet Cary’s entire fortune that the housekeeper and the
bodyguard told him all about what happened at the grocery store—including what
I was asking about. If Miranda Cary heard some woman confronted her housekeeper
about domestic abuse, it’s not a far leap for her to realize it was
me
,
especially after the phone call.”

“It’s not a far leap at all, baby,”
he agreed. “We’ve dealt with a lot of abusive fucks around the MC over the
years, and they most certainly make it difficult for their victims to find help.
You might be the only person who’s shown any sign that she knows something is
wrong.”

The thought made Bridget feel
nauseous. “That poor woman. She must feel so alone.”

“I can’t believe she wants to run,”
said Ghost, reading the note again. “It’s so hard to get them to leave most of
the time.”

“I was surprised, too. But if I
thought someone could help get my kid out of that nightmare, I’d try anything,
too. She must have had Toby slip this into my bag, just like she tried to have
him reach out with the phone call. It’s sure as hell not a kid’s handwriting.”

“Agreed. So let’s spring her out of
it.”

Bridget smiled and kissed him. “You
read my mind. Let’s go tonight.”

Ghost laughed, but stopped when he
saw she was serious. “Oh. Baby, that’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“What, just the two of us, marching
up to Cary’s house? ‘Hey, we have this note from your wife, so get out of our
way!’ ” He made a silly noise and a thumbs-down. “Like, I’m super glad
you have so much faith in my martial prowess, don’t get me wrong.”

Bridget wilted. “Well, when you put
it like that…”

“Your gusto is sexy as fuck, you know
that. But we need tactical, Bridget. Cary’s not going to let two of his most
prized possessions just walk out the front door with us.” Ghost paused, and
swallowed uncomfortably. “And if we make a run and
fail
, and Cary finds
out about it, well… we won’t be the ones to suffer for it.”

Bridget’s heart fell. Of course,
Ghost was right. She was being reckless with righteous fury. They would only
have one shot at getting her out safely and cleanly, and they had to be smart
about it. Otherwise, she could trigger an avalanche of violence that she would
never forgive herself for.

“How are we going to match his
firepower?” she said with a hint of despair. “That’s our problem. He’s rich and
powerful and has security and a gated mansion. I can’t even get the housekeeper
to help.”

Ghost rubbed her leg and shrugged.
“We get him out of the house, away from the security.”

“We’d also have to have a plan for
Miranda and Toby after we spring them. Somewhere safe for them to go while they
figure out what to do next; food, clothes, counseling…”

“Right.”

Bridget sighed. “Usually, these kinds
of tactical puzzles get me off, but this is a lot less fun when it’s not
theoretical.”

Ghost squeezed her leg. “We’ll figure
it out. Maybe we just need a few days to think it through. Some rest and, like,
seven thousand orgasms should help knock something loose.”

Bridget giggled and Ghost winked at
her.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been much of a
help on the plan, babe. My mind’s just been wracked with this Lucero thing.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “It’s
not your fault we’re both dealing with intense shit right now.”

“You’re a peach,” he said and leaned
forward to kiss her. “I’m sure I’ll be more use to you after the tribunal.”

“Tribunal?”

“Yeah, a whole wild pack of the Black
Dogs is coming up here to play judge, jury and….” He trailed off, and his eyes
went wide. Ghost sat up straight. “Jesus tapdancing Christ, that’s it.”

Bridget looked at him curiously.
“What? What’s it?”

“I know how we’re going to save
Toby.”

~
SEVENTEEN ~

Ghost

The day of the tribunal arrived, and the Black Dogs of
LeBeau met at the clubhouse before they headed out to greet the challenge. The
whole club was making a show to support Tommy and Will, and the placed buzzed
with activity. House mouses shuffled through the crowd, passing out beers and
whiskey shots and joints. Ghost arrived fashionably late, not wanting to get
cornered by anyone who wanted to have a heart-to-heart with him before this
thing started.

Besides, he already had one of those
on his plate, and it was one too many. He and Jase hadn’t spoken much since the
accident. Truth be told, Ghost hadn’t talked to many of his MC brothers, and it
wasn’t just all the glorious time he was spending with Bridget. His guilt about
not stopping Lucero himself before he had a chance to hurt Tommy made him want
to withdraw; his anger at Jase for not listening to him and protecting Tommy
made him want to lash out. Withdrawal seemed like the smartest choice, given
the situation. But if he didn’t fix that wound between him and Jase soon, it
would get infected and never heal, and he didn’t want that.

A few boys patted him on the back as
he entered and passed by, asking around for Jase. He found him upstairs in the
conference room, sorting through some paperwork no doubt Henry had left for
him, spread out on the giant mahogany table. Henry’s molding of Jase into the
future MC president had ratcheted up the last few years, especially since Jase
had married Henry’s daughter. He was hanging out less and working more on
boring shit like this—sorting papers, making phone calls, writing checks. Jase
was proud of it, and so Ghost was proud of him, but Ghost would never share his
interest in traditional authority.

“Oh, hey,” said Jase when Ghost came
in. “What’s up? You ready for this?”

Ghost shut the conference room doors
to block out prying ears and the buzzing din. “As ready as I can be.”

“You’ll do fine. Lucero’s a fucking
punk.”

“Yes, he is,” said Ghost. He tipped
on his heels a bit and paused. “I wish you’d thought that when I told you the
first time.”

Jase closed his eyes and sighed. He
rubbed the back of his thick black hair. “Yeah. Me too.”

“I tried to tell you, man. Why didn’t
you listen to me?”

Jase lifted his arms and shrugged.
“For all the same reasons I gave you that day, Ghost. It just seemed like a bad
decision to make as a leader. Lucero looked and sounded fine every time I
talked to him that day, and I just… I had to make the call. And I made the
wrong one, obviously. It’s kept me up every fucking night since we got home.”
He sighed again. “I’m sorry. I should have listened.”

Ghost sighed. He was great at
watching enemies in pain and even taunting them while he was at it, but when it
came to his brothers, he just wanted it to be over as quickly as possible. “I
know, man. I know you were just doing what you thought was right. But I don’t
think it’s just you who doesn’t take me seriously around here.”

Jase paused. “Well, you are kind of a
comedian.”

“I didn’t realize that meant
everything
I said was a joke to you guys.”

Jase frowned. “It’s not, man. Is that
what you think?”

“That’s what it feels like,” admitted
Ghost, crossing his arms. “I’m good for killing and I’m good for a laugh, but
if either of those two things aren’t the goal, then no one seems to give a fuck
what I have to say.” Jase opened his mouth to protest, but Ghost raised a hand
to stop him. “I get now that part of that is my fault. Obviously, I’m the
funniest person any of us know, but… funny isn’t always the thing we need.”

“No one’s asking you to change,
Ghost.”

“I know,” he said. “It’s my choice.
And it’s not just for you ugly jerks, either.”

Jase smiled at him. “A certain Viking
mistress got you taking things a bit more seriously?”

“I have no comment on the matter,”
said Ghost, shifting on his feet.

Jase laughed. “Good God, that’s a
first.”

“Look, there’s one other thing we
have to work out here. We’re gonna have to lie to the tribunal.”

“What?” said Jase, his expression
falling. “Why?”

“We can’t tell them you dropped the
ball,” said Ghost, gesturing to the table full of paperwork. “You’re riding the
gravy train to CEO town or whatever here, Jase. Rising to power is hard, and it
doesn’t take much to fuck it up. This could fuck it up for you, and it
shouldn’t.”

Jase pursed his lips and looked away.
“Well, maybe it should. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a leader. I failed Tommy by
not listening to you. Who says I shouldn’t get punished for it?”

“Me,” said Ghost. “Tommy’s hurt,
Will’s hurt, we don’t need you getting shit on too. I know you did your best,
and everyone knows you’re a goddamn good leader. I’ll take this hit for you,
bro, because I know you’re going to run this place smoothly one day.”

“Ghost, you don’t have to do that. I
don’t have a goddamn problem taking whatever punishment I’ve earned.”

“Yeah, yeah. Save the tough guy
routine for Maggie, I’m sure she loves it,” said Ghost dismissively. “Thing is,
I fucked up too, Jase. I let you talk me down from my instincts. I didn’t trust
myself. I could have done a lot more to stop Lucero and protect Tommy, and I didn’t,
because I let all this worry about you guys thinking I’m a joke get to my head.
So I’m going to go in front of that tribunal and do my best to make sure Lucero
gets the blame he deserves, and I’m going to protect your future crown at the
same time. It’s my mess to clean up.”

Jase gave him a secretive smile.
“Should I say something about saving the heroic martyr routine for Bridget?”

“Oh, she’s definitely going to love
it,” agreed Ghost. “She thinks I’m the bee’s knees.”

“And at what age did she get her head
injury?”

“
Ouch
,” said Ghost, and
gripped his stomach in mock pain. “Campbell, you’re a savage.”

Jase laughed and clapped Ghost on the
back. They shared a quick, tight hug before they rejoined the mass of brothers
downstairs for a quick beer before they left.

The tribunal was too big to hold in
the LeBeau clubhouse. So instead, a veritable army of Black Dogs on their bikes
descended on the local LeBeau Masonic lodge. Henry had given the town’s
authorities ample warning about the tribunal before it happened, as well as
doing his duty to spread the gossip around Dot’s Diner, so the huge parade of
strange bikers rolling through town like thundering vengeance had a curious,
but unconcerned audience of civilians.

The lodge had a large, beautifully-decorated
auditorium used for ceremony and ritual, and it was in here that the men all
filed and took seats in the velvet-lined stadium chairs. On the floor, three
tables had been arranged: two shorter ones each, reserved for the conflicting
charters, and one long table across the way reserved for the members of the
tribunal, who held the fate of the accident in their hands.

Ghost sat with Henry at the table
reserved for the LeBeau chapter, listening to the murmuring chatter as the room
filled up with six charters’ worth of Black Dogs. Eagleton was the only charter
whose entire active membership was present; everyone else sent a representative
crew of three to four high ranking men alongside the club presidents. All told,
there was nearly thirty Black Dogs gathered in the small auditorium seats. It
was the presidents who would sit at the table of judgment, and neither Henry
nor Shaun would have a say in the decision.

Lucero and Shaun mirrored Ghost and
Henry’s position at the other table, and Ghost did his best to ignore them. The
room buzzed with conversation until the six presidents of the tribunal were
settled at the long table. Ghost had never met any of them before.

In the center right chair, a tall man
with a silver pompadour and sideburns tapped a gavel on the table until the
room fell quiet. When he spoke, he sounded like the reincarnation of Johnny
Cash. “Thank you all for gathering here today. And we’d especially like to
thank Mr. Henry Oliver, second generation founder and president of the LeBeau
chapter, for making arrangements to have this tribunal in such a lovely place.”
He gestured to the auditorium. “I’m Myron Daughtry, second-generation founder
and president of the Williamsburg chapter. We haven’t had a chance—or, I guess,
a reason—to gather like this in some time. I wish the reason today was more
positive. We have two hospitalized Black Dogs and two charters trying to decide
where the blame for this lies. Henry has asked for this tribunal in order that
we can come to the fairest arrangement based on the facts available to us.”

Ghost shifted, already uncomfortable
and bored. He did not like formal shit like this, even when his ass wasn’t on
the line.

“What we’re going to do is hear
testimony from the Dogs that were present for the accident that day, and some
secondary testimony from members who were on the run but did not physically see
the crash. The tribunal’s members will have the chance to ask questions of each
witness, and the president of each witness’s charter will act as their protector
to object if they feel a line of questioning is inappropriate. Once this is
finished, the six of us will deliberate and make our decision, and our decision
is final. Both charters must abide by the ruling to the letter, or face
sanctions. Our brothers gathered here today will witness the testimony and
ruling to ensure the integrity of the organization is upheld with our decision.”

Henry and Shaun both verbally agreed
to the tribunal’s terms. First up, one of the other tribunal members read off a
printed transcript of Tommy’s testimony, which the members had gathered
alongside Henry earlier in the day at the hospital. In a monotone voice, the
tribunal member read off what Tommy had remembered: that the drive was mostly
boring; that he had followed Ghost around an old VW bus into the left lane just
before the crash; and that the crash itself happened so fast, he wasn’t sure
what caused it. He remembered hearing Ghost brake, and when he turned to look
why, he saw the van bearing down on him at a sharp angle, headed for the
highway median. Tommy knew he was too far up to try Ghost’s maneuver and brake;
his only shot was to accelerate and try to out-run it, but he had been just a
tick too late. He didn’t remember anything after that, and he didn’t remember seeing
what was happening inside the van at all before or during the crash.

Next, they called Will up and offered
him a polished wooden chair to sit on. He faced the tribunal, his back to the
table where Ghost sat. His right arm was still posted up in a sling.

“Tell us what you remember from the
accident,” asked Myron.

Will cleared his throat and, Ghost
could tell, was working to raise the volume of his typically low, soothing
voice. “The run had gone very smoothly up until the accident. We had no issues
or red flags. I rode in the passenger seat while Harvey Lucero drove, and it
was our vehicle that held the merchandise. I remember answering Ghost and Tommy
on the radio about something incidental—I think we had been talking about food.
The thought made me want to check exactly how far out we were from Burling, so
I pulled up the GPS to get a look. From there, I just remember… Sounds,
flashes.”

“Anything you can give us would be
useful,” said Myron.

“Squealing tires. I heard metal
crunching. The next thing, I was coming to, and my whole body felt like I’d
been put in a blender. I heard Ghost tell me I was all right. I remember Jase
Campbell speaking to me at one point. And then all I remember is the hospital
room and my wife.”

Members of the tribunal scribbled.
One of them asked, “Did you notice anything worrisome about Lucero’s behavior
leading up to the crash?”

“I can’t say that I did,” said Will.
“He was certainly a bit testy, but it was an early job and I figured he wasn’t
a morning person. Honestly, we didn’t speak much on the drive.”

“Why is that?”