Letting Her Lead (Ghost Riders MC 3)

“We went looking for Pinch. When that shit went down with the Five Aces last month, I went searching and found out that our prospect had something to do with it.”

Scribe is talking about how the Five Aces came to our territory and fucked with our shop. Only someone with inside information would have known when to hit us and where things were. They came in the rear entrance of the property and fucked up the shop pretty bad. We’ve got three other shops in town that people drive from states away to use, but it seems the Five Aces got a hold of those, too.

Whoever gave them this information could have done it for a few reasons: he was looking to make a name for himself, he owed a fuck-ton of debt, or needed a fix and this was the only way to get it.

I had construction crews on site right after the hit, but it’ll take time and cost us money, not only in repairs but in business lost. This is a bigger headache than I ever wanted to deal with, but as club President, it’s my job.

The door opens and Savage walks in, shaking his head and laughing.

“What?” Scribe and I ask at the same time.

“If I’m not mistaken, Vincent is saying he’s going to shoot himself in the leg and see how much Cas likes it. I don’t know. I walked out when she pulled her gun out and offered to do it herself.”

“So no sign of Pinch?” I say, changing the subject and getting back to the problem at hand.

“None,” Scribe says, looking down at his phone. “I can do some digging. If he pops up, you’ll be the first to know.”

I look over at Savage and we lock eyes. He’s worried about me and the girl upstairs. He knows me well enough that we don’t have to speak. We’ve been through ten tons of shit together, so he knows when something is off.

“I got it,” is all I have to say before he nods and turns to leave.

“I’m going back upstairs with shortcake. Someone holler if you need anything.” Savage says before exciting to go get his Julie.

I turn to Scribe and clear my throat. He looks up from his phone at me and shrugs his shoulder. “Sorry, I was canceling the raid I was supposed to do tonight.”

“Like I know what that means. Go back to the doc’s house and get her some goddamn clothes. She’s gonna be here for a while. And make sure you get her glasses. She can’t see shit without them.”

He raises his eyebrow at me, but I just ignore it.

“Will do, Pres,” he says, getting off the couch. “Come on, Ham. You can ride in the sidecar.”

I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling. Scribe had a sidecar made especially for Ham, and I hate to admit it but it may be the cutest thing in the world to see that damn bulldog wearing goggles as he rides beside him.

Ham jumps up happily and comes over to me for the okay. I scratch behind his ear, telling him he can go, and then he’s bouncing behind Scribe out of my office.

“Watch your ass,” I shout at the two of them as they exit. Scribe just throws up deuces at me. Then they’re gone.

When I exit my office, I see that Casper and Vincent are gone. I didn’t hear a gun go off, so I’m guessing they worked it out.

I’ve only got one place I want to be, but as I take the stairs to my room, each step is heavier than the last. What am I going to do with her in there?

Standing outside the door, I wait a beat before entering. How do I explain to Izzy that she’s mine?

5

Izzy

“Shit.” I close the laptop quickly and dash over to the bed when I hear sounds out in the hallway. I lie down and close my eyes, trying to calm my breathing.

“Shortcake, back in bed. You need your rest, baby,” I hear Savage say. I recognize his voice, but his tone is completely different to earlier. It’s all soft and sweet. I never would’ve thought his voice could even do soft and sweet.

“I’m fine, Abe. I’m pregnant not a child,” I hear a woman’s voice snip back at him.

“Get in bed and I’ll eat your pussy until you pass out.” My mouth falls open at his crude words, but it’s strangely hot.

“You’ll do that anyways.” I hear a growl, then a giggle, before a door closes.

I release a breath, realizing that the noise wasn’t Lucias coming back to the room—the room I’m starting to think is his. The sheets smell just like him. I huff at myself for liking the smell a little too much. This man is holding you captive, Izzy. He’s not the sweet man who brings his puppy in every other week. I wait a minute, and when I don’t hear any other sounds, I rush back over to the laptop and open it again.