Page 15

Heather

I wake up to a bottle of water on the bedside table and the medication samples from Dr. Patch.

For once my stomach isn’t churning and I’m not rushing to the bathroom to hurl.

I reach for the medication and quickly take it, not wanting the nausea to return.

Ghost is the most thoughtful man I’ve ever known.

He’s even got my phone charging. I can’t believe I was so wary of him the first time we met.

When I put the bottle back, it lands on a piece of paper. I grab it and discover it’s a note from Ghost. It says:

Don’t get up. I’m heading to town to get your meds. Be right back. There are prospects on the property keeping an eye on things. They won’t come inside the house because I set the security alarm. Left you a muffin in the basket.

Looking at the nightstand table, sure enough, there’s a basket sitting there. When I reach inside, there’s a warm muffin wrapped in a napkin. Jesus, the man must have just left. Feeling incredibly spoiled by the big tatted-up biker, I sit up in bed and nibble on the muffin and sip the cold water.

To be honest, I get lost in my own thoughts and end up snuggling back down under the blankets for another rest. Patch said I was depleted, and I totally feel it. My rest turns into a nap and the next thing I know Ghost is at my bedside.

“What time is it?” I ask groggily.

“One in the afternoon and I’ve made lunch for you.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him, feeling all kinds of guilty about him going through so much trouble for me.

He reaches over and takes my hand gently.

Looking into my eyes he says, “Don’t keep telling me that I don’t have to do stuff for you.

I want to do nice things for you, because…

” Glancing away, he adds, “Look, I probably shouldn’t say this, but in the time we’ve gotten to know each other I like you.

I really like you. Shit, I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now. I don’t want you to feel…”

Before he can get the words out of his sexy mouth, I pull him down towards me.

Now that the sickness is under control, I’m feeling a lot better.

And horny. As my mouth touches his I feel his lips part in a startled response.

When I let him go, he pulls back, looking a little dazed.

Then a cute lopsided smile curves up one side of his face.

“So that’s the way it’s gonna be, is it?”

I give him a firm nod. “I really like you, too. Big muscly, tatted-up bikers don’t just fall out of the sky, you know.”

He smothers back a smile. “Neither do beautiful, talented, hardworking women with readymade families.”

My eyes fly up to his. “So, the fact I’m pregnant doesn’t bother you?”

“Hell no. Kids are innocent. They turn out to be whatever you make ‘em.”

Oh, this man is after my heart. It’s truly mind-boggling to have a hot, protective guy step up just when I’m at the lowest point of my whole life.

And he’s interested in me for me and accepting that my baby and I are a package deal.

This man is golden in my opinion and I’m definitely interested in getting to know him better.

Before I can speak, he nudges the tray he brought me closer.

“I made you a bunch of really bland stuff, just in case you’re still feeling nauseous.”

I glance down and see cooked baby carrots. I reach down with my fingers, grab one and pop it into my mouth. It tastes delicious.

“What in the world did you do to them?”

He picks up another and brings it to my lips.

“Honey glazed. I thought the honey would go easy on your stomach.”

“Well, you were right about that. Quick, put some more in my mouth.”

He does as I ask and keeps feeding me. He’s smiling and happy and I’m actually eating real food, so it’s all a win in my mind.

Once the plate is empty, he says, “I’m fuckin’ thrilled that you ate that much. That medicine Patch gave you must be good stuff.”

“It is,” I tell him. “So what’s on our schedule for today?”

He shrugs. “A whole lot of nothin’, at least until you’re feeling better.”

“But I am feeling better.”

His expression turns stubborn.

“Patch said you’re to rest for the next few days. You don’t have to be in bed but you’re definitely not working.”

I open my mouth to object, but he cuts me off. Gesturing to the side of the room, he tells me,

“I didn’t know what you needed for your stay in my house, so I brought all your stuff from the garage.”

“Oh, you didn’t have…”

Before I could get the words out, he stuffs a cracker in my mouth. “Remember, you weren’t going to say that again.”

Suddenly, a pebble hits the bedroom window.

Ghost is off the bed and lifting the window before I can blink.

I swallow hard when I see he’s got a back holster with a gun inside it.

When he straightens up, his cut falls over it.

I can’t help but wonder how long he’s been packing heat, maybe the whole time I’ve known him.

Ghost yells, “Bear, I have a fucking doorbell. You know that, right?”

The other man replies, “Best get your ass out here. I just picked up an AirTag on your woman’s truck.”

“What?” I exclaim.

I jump out of bed, all thoughts of rest gone from my mind, and pull on my jeans and a sweatshirt, tug on my boots and grab my phone off the cradle. I follow Ghost out the door.

On the way down the steps, I tell myself it’s nothing.

This is all some kind of mistake. Everything’s going to settle down when we figure this out and we’ll have a good laugh because the alternative is terrifying.

If my ex has found me, I’ll have to run again.

And I don’t want that after what I just shared with Ghost. I’m tired of thinking that life will make sense again if I just keep moving.

I don’t want to constantly be looking over my shoulders. I want to put down roots.

I was starting to finally relax here, Ghost’s sweet in that silent, heavy-handed way. It’s too easy to lean on him. Too easy to forget that safety is always temporary.

I dig down into my pants pocket and pull out my truck keys as we walk out the front door.

I stop dead in my tracks when I see the man standing in the driveway.

This man is seriously half the damn size of my truck.

He’s huge, like twice the size of Ghost. Tusk is there too, though they don’t pay me any mind.

They’re too busy talking and looking at something on the big man’s phone.

I slowly walk over and stand beside Ghost. He pulls me into his arms and shows me what they’re looking at on his friend’s cell phone. There is a message that says:

Unknown Device Detected in Your Vicinity.

I haul in a shaky breath and climb into my truck. The moment I slide behind the wheel and press the ignition, my phone buzzes. Sure enough, there’s a notification from my vehicle’s security system.

Unknown Device Detected Traveling With You.

My stomach drops straight to my boots. I stare off into the distance. I’d like to think this is some kind of glitch. But I know it’s not. I grip the phone tighter, someone’s tracking me, and I know all the way to my bones who it is.

He knows where I am right now. The keys rattle in my hand as I yank them out of the ignition, killing the engine. The silence that spins out between the three of us is deafening.

I stumble back out of my truck and into Ghost’s waiting arms. My heart is hammering against my ribs.

Ghost says, “Talk to me, beautiful. What’s going on?”

Every instinct I’ve ever buried is clawing its way to the surface now, screaming for me to run, that I’m in danger, that he’s found me. It’s playing in an infinite loop in my head.

I don’t run because right now all I need is Ghost.

For a second, I hesitate, tongue-tied, because once I open my mouth, everything changes. Finally, I look up at Ghost and mumble, “I think it’s my ex that put the tracker on my truck.”

He doesn’t flinch. Nor does he ask a million questions. His expression is grim.

“Give me your keys and have a seat on the porch.” He’s holding out his hand, patiently expecting me to follow his directions in order to keep me safe.

I immediately drop them into his hand and stand there frozen for a second as Ghost jogs over to my truck.

He starts talking with Tusk and the big one, who I hear him call Bear.

I slowly back up and sit on the steps to watch them try to find the device attached to my truck.

My phone would have alerted me that it was there when I started it, just like it did today, so that means it couldn’t have been there the last time I drove it.

Someone came here and planted it on my vehicle.

It scares me that my ex was that close to me.

Finding this AirTag is a really big deal. This thing with my ex isn’t over like I thought it was. Something tells me it’s just getting started.

Tusk suddenly drops down onto one knee near my front tire as I round the corner.

Ghost stands next to him, feeling along the edge of the undercarriage like he’s looking for a hidden bomb.

Neither of them talks. Bear just stands there staring at them for a brief moment before stepping forward and saying something I can’t make out.

Suddenly, Bear and Ghost grip each side of my truck, right behind the front bumper, and lift it straight up.

Tusk stoops underneath and begins searching for the tracking device.

My mouth is hanging open at the raw physical power it takes for two men to lift a flipping truck.

They don’t seem particularly put out. They’re just talking away, like it’s no big deal.

Finally, Tusk yanks something free with a quick jerk. I can’t see what it is until he holds it up for the others to see. It’s a small, round disc no bigger than a quarter. Black casing. No markings.

Tusk waves it in the air, like it’s some kind of prize instead of the thing that scares me most in life right now.

“There it is,” he mutters, voice flat and cold.