She shrugged, her hand coming up, her fingers absently twirling a lock of hair. “I just wondered.”
He brushed the hair back from her face. “You trust me to keep you safe, don’t you?”
She studied his eyes. “Yes, I trust you, Ghost.”
He put his hand over hers, stilling the twirling motion and kissed the tip of her nose. “Then quit worrying about it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He returned to her neck, picking up where he’d left off. Her arms went around his shoulders, stroking his skin, but her eyes were on the ceiling, and she couldn’t get the thought out of her head that she needed to tell him everything, the parts she’d left out of her story. And she needed to do it before the meeting. She dreaded it, worrying that his feelings for her would change. At least she had one more day. She’d tell him t
omorrow, she promised herself. And then she closed her eyes and lost herself to the erotic touch of Ghost’s mouth as it moved over her skin.
***
The next morning Ghost got a call. Jessie watched as he walked outside on the terrace to take it. When he came back inside, he had a serious expression on his face.
“Get your jacket and boots, Jess. We’re leaving in a couple minutes.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the clubhouse.”
When they got to the clubhouse, Jessie could tell that something was up. All of the club members were there, and it looked like they were all business. No one was drinking. No one was cutting up.
After all of them went off in a huddle, Ghost came back to her side and took her hand. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“They moved the meeting up. We’re leaving now.”
The only thought that ran through Jessie’s head was that she still needed to talk to Ghost. She hadn’t told him everything yet. And now, as he was pulling her toward his bike, she didn’t know if she was going to get the chance.
“Ghost, I need to talk to you.”
“Ain’t got time now, babe. It’ll have to wait.”
The group pulled out not five minutes later, heading east toward the Georgia border.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jessie clung to Ghost’s back as the Evil Dead MC rolled up to what looked like an abandoned warehouse in a decaying industrial section of Atlanta. There was a tall chain-link fence surrounding the property, and several members of the Devil Kings MC stood guard as the group of five bikes stopped. Shades, Griz, Hammer, and Heavy were with them.
Jessie’s eyes moved over the scary men at the gate, as well as the creepy building behind them, and she must have unconsciously tightened her grip on Ghost, because he reached down his left hand and rubbed the top of hers where it clung to his waist. He was obviously trying to reassure her, and it worked.
They cut their bikes off, and she climbed off as the men all dropped their kickstands and dismounted.
The DKs approached, and one spoke.
“No weapons.”
The guys all held their cuts open, showing they wore no shoulder holsters.
The DK who’d spoken, lifted his chin, and a couple of his guys approached to pat them down. When one of them moved to Jessie, Ghost pushed her behind him.
“You don’t fuckin’ touch her,” he growled.
The man looked back questioningly at the DK who was obviously in charge. After a long tense moment in which he and Ghost stared each other down, he finally relented with a nod.