Vindication: A Motorcycle Club Romance (18 page)

The tribunal scribbled some notes,
but no one had any further questions for Lucero. He got up from the chair and
gave Ghost and Henry a shit-eating grin as he made his way back to the table next
to Shaun. Ghost saw even Henry was clenching his fists under the table at that.

“We’ve heard from all our witnesses.
If there’s nothing else, we will adjourn to deliberate,” said Myron.

The room full of men was quiet for
only a few seconds. Then suddenly, a familiar voice called out across the
cavernous space.

“Wait!” It was Jase. “Wait, I have
something!”

Murmurs erupted as everyone turned.
Jase was coming down the auditorium stairs at stage right with his smart phone
in his hand and a look on his face Ghost recognized very well. His heart
tightened up as Jase passed by the table without stopping, but gave him an
exasperated smile as he did.

“You’ve already given your testimony,
Mr. Campbell,” said Myron, checking his notes.

“I know,” said Jase. “But something
new has come to my attention.”

“What the hell is this?” asked Shaun
with an open hand toward Jase.

He was ignored. Jase flipped through
his phone as he spoke to the tribunal, loud enough for the men behind him to
hear. “Lucero is lying, and I can prove it.”

Chatter broke out among the crowd;
Ghost heard Lucero erupt into protest.

“You have proof you haven’t already
turned over to this tribunal?” said Myron, his face twisting into an upset
sneer.

“No, you’ve seen it,” said Jase. “But
Lucero hasn’t. And until he testified, we probably wouldn’t have noticed it.”
Jase showed them something on his phone. As they gathered around to look, he
said loudly, “I took photos of the scene of the crash before the cops showed up,
for our records. And you can see,
very
clearly, that the only skid marks
on the road belong to a bike—Ghost’s bike, to be specific.”

“What the fuck does that have to do
with anything?” yelled Lucero with an angry hand gesture.

Jase turned with an amused smile on
his face that made Ghost instantly happy. “So, you just got up here and swore
that you felt the wheel jerk and remembered slamming hard on the brakes of the
van before you hit your head on the window. Where are the skid marks then,
genius?”

An electric charge ran throughout the
room, and Ghost’s eyes went wide. He leaned across the table and saw the color
drain from Lucero’s face.

“You didn’t try to stop the van
because
you weren’t awake to stop it
. You passed out
before
the
van swerved,” said Jase. “You’re lying.”

The faces of the men on the tribunal
dropped, shocked. They passed Jase’s phone back and forth between them until
all of them had seen the proof he described. Relief washed over Ghost, running
up from his toes to the top of his head and back down again like an army of
fuzzy puppies unleashed into the first spring sunshine.

Myron had to use his gavel to get
order back into the room. Henry patted Ghost on the back firmly, and when Ghost
looked over, his president had a look of righteous pride in his eyes. Lucero
hung his head at his own table, and Shaun stared mindlessly at the back wall as
if he was trying to digest what was happening.

The tribunal rose to their feet. “If
there’s nothing else, we’re going to adjourn to deliberate,” said Myron. “We
will recall this session in fifteen minutes.” He banged the gavel once and
followed the men through a side door and out of the auditorium.

Jase came over to the table with a
giant grin, and Ghost jumped to his feet to give him a huge bear hug. “Holy
shit, dude, that was some epic action right there,” he said, patting Jase hard
on the back. “Thank you so much. You’re a genius.”

“I should have listened to you from
the start,” said Jase. “You see way more than we’ve ever given you credit for,
and from now on I’m going to make sure we utilize it.” He pulled away from the
hug. “And I’m never going to forget what you did for me here.”

“Ditto, brother,” said Ghost. “And I
don’t entirely blame you for not listening to me. I do talk all the fucking
time, and eighty percent of it is nonsense.”

Jase laughed and shook Ghost by the
shoulder. Everything felt right then like it had fallen back into place.

When the tribunal returned, no one
was surprised by their ruling. The six of them stood behind their chairs facing
the men at the tables and announced that, given the testimony and evidence
presented, the Eagleton charter was at fault for the collision that injured
Tommy and Will. They would be financially responsible for making sure both men
got back to fighting strength, and for replacing Tommy’s wrecked bike.

“In addition, Harvey Lucero, for
recklessly endangering both your club brothers and the general public, and for
conduct unbecoming a Black Dog for your dishonesty on the matter, it is the
ruling of this tribunal that you be placed on suspension from duties for one
full year.”

“
Yes!
” Ghost couldn’t stop
himself, pumping his fist. He flipped both birds at Lucero across the room. “In
your face, you big, dumb fuck!”

The look Myron gave him was somehow
several points more devastating than anything Henry had ever expressed, and
Ghost instantly shut up.

“Further, if you are indeed in need
of assistance with addiction, the club will ensure you get the help and
treatment you need to get back to full strength. Once your suspension is served
and your health reassessed, the Eagleton charter will have the option to bring
you back into the fold if you, and they, so desire.”

Lucero stared at nothing, anger
throbbing on his face. For a minute, Ghost almost felt bad for the guy. Being
addicted to anything was a horror show he never wanted to fully understand. But
then he remembered Tommy’s injuries, the way he looked all broken and twisted
on the side of the road, and his sympathy melted away.
I’m sure someone else
has plenty of time to feel bad for the motherfucker.

“The decision of the tribunal is
final. If there is nothing else, we can call this conflict closed,” said Myron
with raised eyebrows.

With his fate off the table, Ghost’s
other mission for Bridget shoved up to the top of the priority list. This was
probably a dramatic solution to his problem, but he figured why the fuck not?
He’d earned the chance for some performance art.

“Brothers, wait!” said Ghost
suddenly, throwing his hands in the air. He climbed up on his chair and then on
the table, using Henry’s big shoulder to steady himself. The men in the
auditorium looked at him curiously, some in amusement. Lucero slumped in his
seat and ignored him. “Wait, please, I have another thing to add to this
punishment… favor… dealy… thing.” He turned in circles and held his arms out.

“You don’t need to yell at the whole
room for that, Ghost,” said Henry with a shake of his head.

“I do, though,” said Ghost to them
all. “Because this favor is from all of you, not just the tribunal.”

He seemed to have everyone’s
attention, even the men of the tribunal, and so he continued. “Look, I know we
all gathered here for a shitty reason—but we should also stop and look at how
amazing it is to have so many of us gathered in a single place. I’ve never seen
a pack of Black Dogs this big.”

The observation seemed to rev up the
room with smiles and laughter.

“So, even though we’re all kind of
pissed and annoyed and tired that we had to come all the way out to the
corridor just to tell Lucero the truth of what he already knows deep in his
heart—that he sucks—” Chuckles scattered in the audience, and Ghost continued
before the heat could come down. “—there’s a way we can make this gathering
even more epic. Hell, we could even make it
productive
.”

“What’s your point, Mr. McBride?”
said Myron with his first hint of impatience.

Ghost smiled wickedly. “I have a job offer
for every last fucking one of you, if you’ll take it.”

~
EIGHTEEN ~

Bridget

It was after class when Bridget paced the conference
room that connected to the faculty lounge, nervously going over the coming
conversation in her head as she waited. Richly decorated and not often used,
she figured this was the least likely place anyone would walk in on the
conversation she was about to have, and most of the faculty that stayed after
school didn’t spend their time in the lounge when they did.

She checked her phone and saw a
message from Ghost. Even when they contained actual words, they were always
emoji heavy. He couldn’t seem to help himself, and God help her, Bridget found
it endearing as hell.

How’s it going, my
beautiful Valkyrie?

She wrote back that she was still
waiting to begin, and she would text him soon. He wrote back with a series of
hearts, gesturing hands, and obscene-looking fruit that made her roll her eyes
while laughing. The conference room door creaked open and Bridget quickly
shoved the phone in her pocket and turned toward the door.

Henrietta Abate, the headmistress of
the Academy, came in first, her lovely slate and floral print suit still
looking as fresh as it had that morning. Every day, her thick hair was rolled
in the same perfect curled upsweep, mostly dark with shocking accents of
natural gray that she had very smartly incorporated into her style, instead of
trying to alter. She had a surprised, almost worried look in her naturally
large brown eyes. She held the door open for Muriel, who came in with her brand
new Michael Kors bag draped over her tiny shoulder.

“Ladies,” said Bridget with a
grateful sigh. She had been worried, just a little bit inside, that they
wouldn’t come. The notes she had left each of them were Bridget’s last ditch
effort, and usually when plans got to last ditch, their odds of success weren’t
remarkable.

“Is this our new secret cabal?” said
Muriel with a little smirk. She tossed her bag in one of the big rolling chairs
and sat down in the one next to it.

“You could say that. Henrietta, would
you mind closing the door?”

The headmistress did as asked.
“Bridget, what’s going on? Your note was very upsetting.”

Bridget folded her arms and did a
quick check over their shoulders, toward the frosted glass window of the door
to the teacher’s lounge. She heard nothing, and saw no signs of movement.
“There is something very upsetting going on, and I need your help to fix it.
One of my students is being abused at home.”

They both gasped. “Who?” asked
Muriel.

“Toby Cary.”

“Oh
Madonna
,” said Henrietta
and put a palm to her heart. “Of all the families. You’re sure of this?”

“I know, I know. And yes, I’m sure. I
got a call a few weeks ago from a number I didn’t recognize. Whoever was on the
line wouldn’t talk to me, but I know it was Toby. I could hear someone beating
a woman in the background. He’s been withdrawn and anxious for a long time—Henrietta,
this is not the first time you and I have discussed his behavior in the last
six months,” said Bridget with an outstretched hand.

Henrietta shook her head. She looked
sick. “No, it isn’t.”

“And this week, I had a note left in
my bag from Miranda Cary, Toby’s mom. It’s asking for help.”

Muriel frowned. “Why would she ask
you for help? Does she know you know?”

Bridget bit her lip. “I’ve been
looking into this on my own for a little bit. I… may have gone a little far and
confronted one of the Cary housekeepers in a less than classy way. And if Toby
overheard the description of me and my partner and told his mother it was me
who did it, Miranda might think she found a way out. Toby already tried to call
me, and I’ve tried talking to him about it with no success, but he clearly
knows I’m an ally—he just doesn’t know what to do about it. He may have told
his mom I could help.”

“If she thinks you’ll believe her, it
makes sense she would contact you,” said Henrietta.

“Exactly. And anyway, who would leave
this as a hoax? Who even knows?” She shook the note in her fist. “No, I think
Miranda Cary sees a light at the end of the tunnel and she’s throwing herself
at it the best she can. She may have even been the one to tell Toby to call
me—or someone—in the first place that night. We have to help her.”

“We should take the note to the
police,” said Muriel, shaking her head with that wide-eyed owl look she got
when she disapproved of something.

“No,” said Bridget immediately. “The
police won’t help. They’re useless when it comes to domestic violence cases,
and that’s with perps who
can’t
bribe them into oblivion. Calling the
police will just make things worse. We’ll lose access to Toby and any chance to
help him.”

“She’s right,” said Henrietta.
“Bringing in police intervention could escalate his father’s violence. We have
to find another way.”

“I think I have a way,” said Bridget.
“But I can’t do it without both of you on board.”

Muriel turned and looked at
Henrietta, and then back at Bridget. “What do you need us to do?”

“We’re going to have to set a trap,”
said Bridget. “We need to clear a path for Miranda and Toby to get away from
Stephen safely. That’s going to require a safe house or two, transport and
escort, and we may potentially need a pool of cash for them. I don’t know how
much access she could possibly have to his money. I’ve gathered a couple grand
myself.”

“I have some savings,” said Henrietta
immediately. “And I’ll call my sister at the Assault Recovery Center to see if
she has access to any emergency victim funds.”

“I can add to that. And we can put
them up,” said Muriel. “The new house is certainly big enough, and we’d have
everything they would need to be comfortable. Plus, it’s in a gated community
with full-time security.”

Bridget smiled. Relief flooded her
veins and she took a deep breath, grateful for the incredible women in her
life. “Ladies, thank you. This is perfect. If you can take care of those things
for certain, I can handle the rest of the logistical details.”

She bit her lip before she
continued—this was going to be the hardest part of the sell. That was why she
planned her special guest speaker, whose wit and charm she knew first hand
could break down even the highest walls.

Bridget pulled her phone out of her
pocket and sent a text to Ghost. Then she said, “I have a plan to get them away
from Stephen. It’s unorthodox.” She turned to Henrietta. “It’s going to require
you to lie, and possibly take some verbal abuse. When Cary realizes what’s
happening, he might not put up with it quietly.”

Muriel’s mouth opened. “Are we in
danger?”

If she were honest, Bridget wasn’t
sure. She knew damn well anything could happen in a situation like this. She
also knew a good leader did not pass on that kind of doubt to her troops. “No,”
she said. “Because we’re going to be more dangerous than Cary.”

Henrietta raised her eyebrows. “We
are?”

“Yes.” Before she could continue,
there was a soft knock at the door. The women all turned at the sound.

“Come in,” said Bridget loudly. The
door swung open and Ghost walked in, smiling and handsome as ever in his
leather cut. Already Bridget could tell he was a lighter, happier man now that
the mess with Lucero had been decided in his favor. He had called to tell her
all about it after it happened, drunkenly shouting like a kid at Christmas.

He bent his head and asked for
Henrietta’s hand, and kissed it when offered. “Pretend I said something really
beautiful in French right here,” he said to her. She let out huff of a
surprised laugh.

“Hi,” said Ghost to Muriel in the
chair. She was staring up at him like she had never seen a man before, and
Bridget wasn’t too proud to admit it excited her to watch. She offered her hand
to Ghost and he kissed it. “Muriel, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“O-Oh,” she stuttered. “Okay, that’s
nice.” Her smile was wide and sloppy, like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Ghost came up to Bridget and wrapped
an arm around her waist. He pulled her in for a sweet, modest kiss on the lips,
and then pulled back and smiled at her. They shared a heavy gaze and said
nothing, until Ghost finally pulled away to stand at her side. It wouldn’t be
till later in the night that Bridget would realize she hadn’t flinched at all
when showing romantic emotion in front of her colleagues, because that’s just
what Ghost did to her.

“Ladies, this is Ghost McBride,” said
Bridget. “Ghost, this is Muriel Green, and Henrietta Abate.”

“Ladies,” said Ghost, dipping
dramatically. “It’s truly an honor to be helping you out.”

“He’s helping us?” said Henrietta
with a finger toward Ghost.

Before Bridget could jump in to
defend him, Ghost said, “Now, I know. I’m not your usual customer around here,
and I might be a little rougher than you’re used to. But the truth is that you
flawless, class-soaked heroes of education have a monster under your bed, and
that monster is counting on all of you around him being too nice and delicate
to kick him the fuck out.” He paused when he saw their faces. “Uh, pardon me…
to ask him to retire… politely… to his private island… never to return again.”

Both of the women stayed silent,
watching him, digesting his words.

“I do bad things,” admitted Ghost
with a shrug. “Obviously, that’s the elephant in the room. We all know that’s
what the cut says.” He pulled on his leather vest. “But I also do good things.
I visit sick kids in the hospital, and I give money away all the time, and I
make sure our country’s veterans aren’t going without their rum and porn. Ask
Bridget, she knows all about it.”

“What?” said Henrietta. Muriel giggled.

Bridget cleared her throat with a
suppressed grin and made a motion with her hand for Ghost to get a move on.

“Point is, I don’t do bad things to
good people, and I help out good people when I can. I want very much to help
Toby, and Bridget and I have figured out a way we think we can do that, as long
as you’re both willing to work with a devilishly handsome, but morally
compromised, bad boy such as myself.”

Bridget stared at the ceiling so she
wouldn’t lose her composure laughing.
Nope, it’s never going to go away. I’m
going to want to both slap and kiss him simultaneously for the rest of my life.

Henrietta and Muriel exchanged
glances, and then looked back at Ghost and Bridget curiously.

“I’m in,” said Henrietta. “Moral
compromises and all. The kids come first; all other morals fall second.”

Muriel made an impressed face. “Well,
when you put it that way, I don’t know why we’re even talking about this at
all. Let’s get to work.”

“Yes!” said Ghost, throwing his fist
in the air. “I’ve never worked with such a gorgeous crew before. Ladies, bring
it in, let’s have a group cheer. Shout
moral compromises
on three.” He
tried to gather the cheer circle, but the women only looked at him in amused
silence.

He coughed with a self-conscious face
and stood up straight. “Save the cheer for later? Cool, let’s do that.”