Vindication: A Motorcycle Club Romance (20 page)

“Get your shit,” said Cary to his
family, while still staring at Bridget. “We’re leaving. I’m pulling you out of
this fucking school.”

“No, Daddy,” said Toby as he
immediately burst into tears. Miranda shushed him desperately and herded him
out of the office and into the hallway.

Cary held her stare until his family
was in the hallway. “You don’t know who you’re fucking messing with, you stupid
cunt.”

Bridget couldn’t help it. A dark
smile came over her lips—one that didn’t reach up to her eyes. “That makes two
of us.”

He didn’t ask what she meant. Cary
turned and stalked out of the office with his bodyguard on his heels.

The second his back was turned,
Bridget pulled her phone out of her pocket, and felt her stomach drop when she
saw no new messages from Ghost.

“What now?” asked Henrietta, shifting
nervously on her feet.

Bridget didn’t know. Ghost was
supposed to have confirmed his set-up by now. But warfare never did go how it
was supposed to.

“We go after them,” said Bridget. “We
can’t let him take the family home.” She stuffed her phone in her pocket and
raced out of the office after the Cary family, following the sounds of Toby’s
upset sobbing. Henrietta followed, scurrying on her wedge heels.

Fuck, fuck, fuck,
thought Bridget with each pounding step of her boots.
God, if you’re really
up there, give me some fucking way to stop this asshole until Ghost gets here.
Even if she physically engaged, the bodyguard would take the hits, and Cary
would be able to sneak away. It wasn’t like Henrietta or Muriel were going to
jump in and help her fight. She had to think of something fast, before Cary
took Toby out of her reach for good.

As she pushed hard through the double
doors, Bridget’s ears were filled with the sweet sounds of salvation: the thunderous
roar of fifty perfectly-tuned choppers soaring up the country road and into the
parking lot of the Academy.

She could see the Cary family and
their bodyguard stopped at the end of the white entrance walkway, staring as an
army of Black Dogs swarmed the empty parking lot. Bridget and Henrietta came
slowly up toward the lot and watched the beauty of the maneuvers as the men
swerved around in intimidating patterns, finally fully circling the Cary family
town car sitting coldly and askew across three parking spaces. One by one, the
bikes came to a halt next to each other, keys killed ignitions, and looking on
with angry, dark, scarred faces.

“Holy shit,” said Bridget out loud to
herself. Ghost had been right—the sight of all that gleaming black and chrome,
roaring loud, ridden by men as big and mean as she had ever seen in all her
life, it was
terrifying
, and Bridget wasn’t even on their bad side.

“What the fuck is this…” said Stephen
Cary, head swiveling around to get a look at them. “Get the fuck away from my
car!” he yelled, but there was significantly less fire in his voice now.

The quiet poured in as the last of
the bikes shut down. It was the one directly in front and closest to the Cary
family, the one leading the whole pack; it was the bike driven by Ghost. He
kicked out his bike stand and got off with a big, sunny smile, tucking his
sunglasses into his cut. When he met Bridget’s eyes, he winked at her, and she
smiled.

“Evening, Mr. Cary!” said Ghost with
a wave. He took a few sauntering steps forward with his brothers at his back,
menacing and silent. “Mrs. Cary, I presume. And T-Dog, always a pleasure.” He
nodded at the former, and waved and smiled at the latter. Then he looked up at
the injured bodyguard, his face a mask of rage and embarrassment. “Oh, wow,
almost didn’t recognize you without all that blood all over your face.”

“Just what the fuck is going—“ started
Stephen Cary.

“Nope!” interrupted Ghost, whipping a
hand up. Initially, he told Bridget he wanted to show Cary his knife collection,
but Bridget made him promise none of the bikers would brandish weapons in front
of Toby—not unless it was absolutely necessary. “You shut the fuck up, you
little troll.”

Shocked, Cary fell silent.

Ghost looked softly at Miranda. “Mrs.
Cary, would you mind terribly covering Toby’s ears for a moment?”

Miranda Cary trembled like a leaf in
the wind, but she did as Ghost asked, and placed two gentle, shaking hands on
the sides of her son’s head.

Ghost turned back to Cary with a darkness
in his eyes Bridget had never seen—not on him, not on anyone. It was like Ghost
had opened a black hole in his mind. “Now, listen closely, because I fucking
hate repeating myself. This is an intervention. We’ve gathered all your dearest
friends and family here because we’re sincerely concerned about how you’re a
wife-beating piece of shit that deserves to be skinned alive and paraded
through the town like a conquered warlord.”

Stephen Cary was speechless. Fear
swarmed in his eyes, all over the lines on his face. Behind him, the bodyguard
had gone pale.

Ghost came closer, and straightened
the lapels on Cary’s jacket. Cary flinched, and Ghost’s smile was wicked as
sin. “Oh, so you
do
understand. Excellent. This should go much
smoother.”

Cary swallowed. His voice came out a
stuttered monotone mess. “Wh-what the fuck do you want?” He couldn’t keep his
eyes on Ghost. His brain was too busy trying to process the enormous amount of
danger waiting just behind the already dangerous man in front of him. Stephen
Cary was not a man who was used to feeling fear, and it was suffocating him.

Ghost looked into his eyes and made
sure he was listening. “Here’s what you’re going to do, you ever-loving king of
the jagweeds. You’re going to get in your swanky town car with your ugly bodyguard,
and go back to your
tacky
faux-Renaissance mansion, and your hideous,
greed-filled life. And you’re going to do it without Miranda or Toby.”

Cary’s eyes widened.

“
And,
” said Ghost, raising a
finger, “You’re not ever going to look for them. Ever. They’re leaving you
tonight, and it’s the last time you will ever have any contact with them for
the rest of your miserable fucking life. We won’t fuck with you, and you can go
back to whatever it is you spend your time doing. But if you
try
to
contact them…” He lowered his face until he was inches away from Cary’s. “If
you try to do a single fucking thing to retaliate against them, or anyone at
this school… if you do anything other than disappear into a cloud of stinking
regret…”

He turned around and looked at the
gathered men at his back. Every single one of them drilled death into Stephen
Cary and his bodyguard. Fists clenched; ugly smiles appeared; taunts floated
through the air, begging one of them to try and resist what was happening.

Ghost bent down close to his ear. His
words came out a dangerous whisper: “We will end you.”

Ghost slowly leaned back from Cary
and watched the realization dawn over his face. He stared at Ghost, silent,
afraid.

“My beautiful Valkyrie,” said Ghost
to Bridget without looking. “I think we’re ready for the final phase.”

“Yes, sir,” said Bridget with a
smile. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Muriel, who came
scurrying from around the back of the school on foot with her handsome,
clean-cut fiancée in tow. Both of them stopped in surprise when they saw the
scene—especially her fiancée, who almost tripped as he cut across the grass
because he couldn’t stop staring.

Together they came around to Miranda
and Toby, who still huddled in fright next to Stephen. Muriel gently put her
arms around Miranda, who in turn had her arms around Toby, and led her
carefully away from the group. At first, Miranda hesitated, but Muriel talked
softly to her.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she said,
bending down to look in Miranda’s face. “Don’t look at him. Let’s get you
somewhere safe.”

Miranda kept her head down instead
and immediately burst into sobs as she walked under Muriel’s arm away from her
husband. Muriel’s fiancé bent down at the knee and talked gently to Toby for a
moment, offering to pick him up. Toby accepted, and collapsed across the man’s
broad shoulder, hugging him tightly. Bridget’s heart broke in her chest to see
it. They whisked the family around the corner, to where Muriel’s vehicle was
waiting to take them home.

“You’re a champ, Toby!” yelled Ghost
after him. Then he turned back to Stephen and the bodyguard. “Well, looks like
all that’s left to do is for you two ugly jerks to get the hell out of my
sight. So step to it, before I decide that town car is just a little too
scratch-less for my tastes.”

Both men hesitated until the bikers
began to roll away from the car, allowing only the tiniest pathway to access
the vehicle, standing feet apart from angry, silent Black Dogs. Cary jumped in
the back seat and yelled at his bodyguard to drive, and they peeled out of the
parking lot.

Henrietta let out a cry of joy and
clapped her hands. She threw her arms around Bridget’s neck and hugged her. “It
worked!” she cried.

Bridget hugged her back and felt warm
relief, tears on her face. “I sure fucking hope so.”

“You are a wonderful teacher,
Bridget. A wonderful woman. You saved him.”

As Ghost came up to her side, Bridget
smiled at him. “Well, not exactly just me.”

“Hey, now,” said Ghost, throwing his
hands up in the air. “I’m just the trophy husband, I take no credit.” He
wrapped an arm around Bridget’s waist and pulled her into him for a deep,
loving kiss.

EPILOGUE

Bridget

Three Months Later

“Go farther!” yelled Ghost, and waved his hand.
“Farther!
Farther!”

Toby was laughing so hard, he could
barely yell back. “I can’t go any farther!” He kicked the wooden fence to
demonstrate.

Ghost held the football up in his
right hand and shook his head. “You better learn how to high-jump pretty damn
quick, kid, cause here comes the pain!” He tossed the ball and it made a
disappointing end-over-end tumble to the middle of the yard between them. Toby
doubled over in laughter.

“Hey, I’m strong, but I’ve never
actually played this game,” he said. He cupped his hands around his mouth and
yelled to Toby, “Did I do football right?”

“You’re supposed to throw it
to
me!
” said Toby as he jogged to retrieve the ball and run back to Ghost.

“Well why the hell were you all the
way by the fence then, if you were supposed to catch it?” He put his hands on
his hips.

Toby laughed. “You told me to!”

“I don’t think that’s what happened
at
all
,” said Ghost and ruffled his hair. “Why don’t you go see if your mom
needs help?”

He took the football from Toby and
watched him run off toward the adorable powder-blue prewar house of Marcella
Castillo, Tommy’s
abuela
. The place was buzzing, and Toby dodged around
a few of Tommy’s sisters setting up the barbeque spread on a picnic table, and
slid past Jase at the grill, turning burgers with razor focus. Toby disappeared
through the sliding back door.

“You suck at sports so hard, dude!”
Tommy’s cheery voice came floating over from the patio deck. They were gathered
to celebrate his arrival home, after long months of recovery in the hospital.
They already had him propped up like a king in his wheelchair underneath a big
sprawling deck umbrella, two beers and a plate of nachos laid out on a table in
front of him.

“Yeah, let’s see you run one out!”
said Ghost with a faux-mean nod. He pretended to toss the football Tommy’s way,
but Tommy didn’t flinch.

“I can’t wait till I actually can,”
said Tommy. “I can teach Toby a thing or two, unlike you.”

After spending a short little layover
at the home of one of Bridget’s teacher friends, Muriel, it had ended up that
the most ideal place for Miranda and Toby Cary to stay while they transitioned
into independence was at the home of the Castillos. With Tommy still running
well under full strength for months to come, Marcella would need help. Two of
Tommy’s sisters still lived with them, and they were hard-working
over-achievers who welcomed the opportunity to lighten Miranda’s burden, as
well as their own. Toby was thriving in a home full of loving, affectionate
women.

“You’ve got that right,” agreed
Ghost. “You’re gonna be a great role model for him. It was really sweet of
abuela
to take them in.”

“Are you kidding? We’re the lucky
ones! My sisters will not stop pestering Miranda about clothes and shoes and
makeup tricks. It’s like having their own fashion model around. They love her.
And
abuela
says Toby is a very helpful little guy.”

Ghost smiled. “He’s a special dude,
that’s for sure.”

They were interrupted by Jase’s
announcement that the meat was ready. Like bees descending on a hive, people
began to gather from inside the house and around the yard. Henry and Douglas
stayed in their camping chairs at the edge of the patio, drinking beers and
smoking their huge cigars, knowing someone would bring them food. Around the
picnic table, Tommy’s sisters had already taken their seats, gorgeous visions
in bright colors with long dark Spanish hair.
Abuela
hovered around the
grill next to Jase, scolding him and slapping his hand away when he tried to
interfere with the spices she was sprinkling.

Out of the house came Will, his arm
finally out of the sling but still wrapped in a brace. With his left, he held
the hand of Eva, his beautiful little cupcake of a wife whose tummy was very,
very pregnant. Even though she was still a few months out, either her frame was
deceivingly small, or Will had given her the gift of an obliviously large baby
to birth. Still, she was radiant, and she kissed Ghost on the cheek when he
helped her to the picnic table.

Jase’s wife, Maggie, came out behind
them, carrying a giant bowl of potato salad to the table. When Ghost tried to
stick his hand in it, she kicked him in the shins. “Hey! Out, motherfucker.”

“Ouch, fuck,” he said, and meant it.
She’d nailed him right in the nerve. “I forgot you and Jase do self-defense
training for foreplay.” Maggie laughed and flipped him the bird.

Miranda came out, holding Toby by the
shoulders in front of her. To Ghost, they looked like completely different
people. Miranda had gained some weight and color, and she didn’t seem to ever
stop smiling. Even Toby was getting a little bit of a belly on him, his hair a
bit lighter from extended time in the sun. He left his mother’s arms and came
charging up to Ghost, growling like a dinosaur.

Ghost laughed and bent down to meet
him, then picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. Toby kicked and
squealed as Ghost spun him around a couple of times, until Ghost was too dizzy
to keep going.

When he stopped, Bridget was standing
there grinning at him and holding two open beers. “Are you about to throw up on
me, honey?” she said with a wary face.

“If I did, would you still love me?”
said Ghost with a fake hiccup.

“No, definitely not.”

“
Ouch
,” he said. “Did you hear
that, T-Dog?”

“I heard it!” yelled Toby, upside
down.

Bridget laughed. “Trade you the beer
for the boy.”

“Sold!” said Ghost. He shook Toby
around a few times for good measure before he dropped him on his feet. “Go fix
me up a burger, would you, pal?”

“Yup!” he held up his hand until
Ghost did the same, then slapped a high five and ran off for the burger line.

They watched him go with a chuckle.
Ghost took the beer in one hand and wrapped the other around Bridget’s waist,
pulling her close. She kissed him gently.

“You kinda saved that kid,
Supergirl,” he said. “He’s never been happier.”

“
We
saved him,” she said. “I
couldn’t have done it without you.”

Ghost kissed her deeply with one hand
on the side of her face. The party seemed to melt away around them.

“What do you say we take a trip this
summer?” he said. “After school gets out. I haven’t had a good old-fashioned
road trip adventure in a while.”

Bridget’s eyes lit up. “Really? That
sounds amazing!”

“It might get dangerous,” he said,
grinding his hips into hers. “And
sexy.
”

“Oh,
might?
” she said with a
fake snarl. “I’ll only go if it’s for sure both of those things.”

Ghost grinned and bit her lip.
“That’s my girl.”