Resurrecting Ghosts (Kings of Chaos 4)

Chapter One

Ruthie

My hands shake as I travel the familiar roads. I clutch the steering wheel tighter to stop the trembling. My knuckles stand out thinner than usual and pale. The last thing I want to do is be surrounded by members of The Kings of Chaos M.C. today. My wounds are too fresh. There’s a reason people don’t date friends of friends. If it doesn’t work out or ends badly, eventually the two of you are forced to face each other. Usually, before either party is ready.

These are things I learned in high school, so why did I date Skull?

I can produce no rational explanation for my recent choices. Everything about us was unexpected. The moment our lips met, I fell into a state of temporary insanity. The fire between us burned brighter than my caution and preconceived notions.

I don’t do bikers. After a lifetime of watching my best friend and daughter of an M.C. member grow up in this world, I know better. It’s a hard lifestyle to live, and few relationships can survive it. It takes a special woman to handle the secrets, danger, and the patriarchal society. Skull set me at ease in a way no man before him ever had. I couldn’t walk away from the repartee and bonding. I’m not young or naive. I’ve lusted after men and scratched enough itches to know the difference between physical attraction and whatever it was we had. I thought we had a real shot at a decent relationship.

Clearly, I was wrong.

Bitterness rises and sours in my mouth like lemonade in need of more sugar. I pull my car into Blue’s driveway and take a deep breath as I park. She and her husband, Shadow are grilling out today. After the messiness of the past couple of months, the celebration is desperately needed. Bombings, inner turmoil, and rule changes have shaken up the M.C. I haven’t seen her or my pseudo godson, Bolton, in weeks. It’s the only reason I agreed to come today. Regardless of what’s going on with Skull and me, these people are family.

Thoughts of Tritt Alexander Matthews, better known as Skull makes my chest ache. He’s a virus that got into my bloodstream and altered my behavior. Despite his philandering, I can’t seem to get the man out of my mind. I never thought of myself as the type of woman who would stand for disrespect. It’s disheartening to learn otherwise. Why would he give up all that freedom for me? The first night we hooked up, he warned me he didn’t do commitment. I should’ve listened. Instead, I let down my guard, slipped into like and landed in love with a man I shouldn’t have. My vision wavers. I suck in a deep breath and struggle to keep the tears in check. Talk about bad timing. A year ago, he would’ve been the perfect fuck buddy.

Of course, he had to show up after I was ready to settle down. I’m not getting any younger, and the pickings are slim. The charming, handsome, funny bastard slipped right through my barriers. I dash away the teardrops that escape and give myself a mental high-five for having the foresight to use waterproof mascara. I might be heartbroken, but I don’t have to look the part.

The sound of a bike coming behind me sets me into motion. I open the car door, step out, and smooth down my black romper. The cut out top hugs my C cups and leaves a sliver of skin bare between my breasts. I went shopping just for this occasion. I want him to realize all he’s lost.

I might’ve forgiven his transgression in time, if he had tried to make up for it. He did the exact opposite, shutting down and walking away. The sight of his cut as he left me hurt and embarrassed still lingers in my brain.

I’m not vindictive by nature. But this has me tied up in knots. I lopped off four inches of my burgundy hair, leaving me with a sleek bob that brushes my shoulders and a fringe of bangs. I’m put together on the outside. It’s the inside that’s a twisted mess. I glance over my shoulder and breathe a sigh of relief. It’s not Skull. I nod at Wrench and wait for him to pull his bike into the driveway beside me.

He kills the engine and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Ruthie. It’s hot enough out here withou

t you making me sweat with that outfit.”

I laugh at his cheesiness. “Charmer.”

He grins and offers his arm. “Come and make me look good by walking in with me.”

I slip my arm in his. The scent of worn leather and man engulfs me. It’s a familiar smell, but all wrong at the same time. Skull is crisp, fresh like the air coming off the ocean and wild like the earth after it rains. I step carefully in my black six-inch strap on heels with a bright floral pattern. The shoes make me feel powerful and add height to my five foot five stature. I hold my head high as we enter the crowded backyard. Greetings come our way. I wave.

I scan the crowd and lock eyes with Blue, who arches an eyebrow. The questions in her eyes makes me smirk. Friends since before high school, I can read her like a book. I shake my head slightly. No, I’m not revenge dating. I know better, a woman does not cause trouble between brothers.

I slip my arm free and pat Wrench’s arm. “Thanks for the escort. I’m going to join up with the girls.” I nod toward the group of women gathered on the opposite side of the yard.

“Any time, Lady,” Wrench says.

“Check out the sexy redhead.” Dixie Rose releases a low whistle.

“Shut up.” I soften the words with a smile as we hug.

“I recognize this outfit,” Blue says.

“What? I just bought this jumper.”

“Exactly,” Blue replies. “It’s the post break up ensemble and haircut. Both are amazing, by the way.”

“Thank you. There were two ways to handle this, by working out or binging on junk food. I’m about to hit my mid-thirties, and metabolism is not as kind as it once was, exercising won.”

Blue holds her arms out, and we hug. I linger in the comforting embrace of my oldest friend.

“How are you?” Dixie Rose asks.

“Not great. How could I be so damn blind? He never pretended to be something he wasn’t. I should’ve expected something like this from him. God, we were together for less than a year, and I use that term loosely, so why am I moping around like some teen with her first break up?”

“Time doesn’t have anything to do with the depth of feeling. Trust us,” Blue states.

I smile. “What you two found is rare. It’s like comparing apples to oranges.”

“Not necessarily, I think you’re writing it off too soon,” Dixie Rose adds. “You guys had a falling out and then the club got rocked hard. He couldn’t come to you if he wanted to.”

“No, but he didn’t have to go radio silence,” I retort not about to let him get away with bad behavior.

“True,” Dixie Rose agrees.

“Now that things are settled, are you willing to let him try to mend things?” Blue asks.