Page 8 of Her Outlaw Biker (Vanishing With the Rebel #2)

Ghost

The night is quiet. The air in the room feels heavy, like it’s holding its breath, just as I am.

I stand near the window, half in the dark, one hand resting on the curtain, looking out at the silent stars like they might calm the tsunami rising within me. It’s almost midnight. The intel should’ve come an hour ago.

Still nothing.

I glance down at the burner phone on the table. Silent. Screen black. Rafe’s never late. Not unless something went sideways.

I clench my jaw and scan the parking lot again. Nothing but an old pickup truck two spaces down and a flickering motel sign casting weak yellow light over the gravel lot. My reflection stares back at me in the glass, jaw tight, eyes sharp, scar on my cheek like a warning label.

Where the fuck are you, Rafe?

I back away from the window, pacing. The waiting is worse than the fight. Always has been. It makes your mind go places, bad places. Places filled with betrayal and blood and your girl’s face in the cross fire.

My eyes flick to Clover. She’s silent. She hasn’t said a word in the last ten minutes. She’s stretched across the bed, bare legs tangled in the sheets, head propped up on her arm. Watching me. I can feel her eyes on my back like a touch I’m not ready for.

She has so many questions…I can feel it.

My chest tightens almost painfully. If I don’t get the drop on the Vultures now, we’ll both be ghosts before dawn.

I turn back to the table, double-checking the weapons laid out there. Glock’s clean and loaded. Knives are sharp. Spare mag, burner, gloves, and duct tape…just in case. I tug on the Kevlar vest, strap it down tight.

And then finally, the phone dings.

A single message.

Time: 02:15. Location: 44th & Loma Verde. Warehouse 6.

No words. No name. Just enough to move.

I exhale slowly, relief and dread swirling in my gut like smoke. Rafe came through. But this also means it’s time.

Time to finish this rat chase once and for all. Because the Vultures will never stop.

I reach for the second mag, sliding it into the Beretta with a clean click. The shotgun’s already locked and loaded. I grab two knives, securing one at my ankle and the other on the belt. Flash-bang. Kevlar vest. I move like I’ve done this a thousand times, because I have.

But I’ve never done it with someone like Clover in the room, naked under motel sheets, watching me like I’m already halfway in the grave.

She moves. I don’t hear it, but I feel it. The shift in the air. Then her arms slide around my waist from behind, soft, bare, warm…and everything inside me buckles.

“Please don’t go,” she whispers.

Her cheek presses between my shoulder blades, and I close my eyes, just for a second. The feeling of her skin on mine is the only peace I’ve known in years. And she’s giving me this, again, knowing I’m about to walk into the lion’s den.

“I have to,” I say, my chest tightening at the soft plea in her voice.

“No, you don’t,” she says, hugging me tighter. “We can leave. Now. Tonight. Just…go far away. Disappear.”

Her voice breaks, and fuck—it nearly breaks me.

“I’m done running,” I mutter. “I’ve run enough for three lifetimes.”

She steps around me, still naked, still soft and perfect and mine. Her eyes glisten. “And what if they kill you?”

“They won’t.” I reach for her face and brush a tear off her cheek with my thumb. “I’ve got it covered. I’ve called in a favor I never thought I’d use.”

Her brows furrow.

“An old contact—one of the good ones. He’s gonna help your dad…he’s gonna be extracted. Safe. Quiet. Off-grid.” I pause, brushing a strand of damp hair behind her ear. “He’ll never have to owe anyone again.”

Her lips part, trembling slightly. “You did that?”

I nod.

“You don’t even know him.”

“I don’t need to. He’s yours.”

She leans into me, pressing her bare chest to my front, arms wrapping tight around my waist like she’s trying to fuse us together. “I’m more worried about you, though…”

I lean down to kiss her on the forehead. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

“Don’t go,” she says again, her voice barely audible. “Just for tonight…stay. Please.”

My hands still over the gear I’m packing. For a second, I forget why I’m even doing this—why there’s blood in the air and smoke in our wake. All I feel is her. Soft. Warm. Fragile in a way that makes me want to shatter anything that threatens her.

I look down at her. She’s completely bare, eyes wide and vulnerable, lips parted. Her skin glows in the dim motel lamplight, dewy from our shower, her hair hanging in wet waves over her shoulders. One look, and my resolve’s a crumbling wall.

“Little bird…” I reach for her, pulling her against me, burying my face in her neck. She smells like vanilla and rain, and it floods my senses, making me weak in a way that terrifies me. She tilts her head back when I start kissing her throat, breath hitching.

“I need you,” she says, breathless.

I crush my mouth to hers, a groan escaping from somewhere deep in my chest. She clings to me, her fingers fisting my shirt as I walk her backward until the backs of her knees hit the bed. We fall together in a tangle of limbs and heat.

I yank my shirt off, unbuckle my belt, but I don’t go further.

My cock is straining, begging to be inside her again, but time isn’t on our side.

I press my hips into hers, grinding slow.

She gasps, rolling her hips to meet mine, desperate for more.

I slip a hand between us, fingers sliding through her slick heat.

She’s so ready for me, it nearly undoes me.

“Ghost,” she moans, her head falling back, eyes fluttering shut.

I tease her, just enough to hear her cry out, just enough to feel her fall apart again under my touch.

I want to mark her with my hands, my mouth, make her forget we ever had to run.

She wraps her legs around me, and I swear if I stay one more minute, I won’t leave.

I’ll bury myself so deep inside her we’ll forget the world exists.

But I can’t.

I can’t let her get caught in the cross fire I’m walking into.

I kiss her hard, one last time, drawing out every second of it. Her lips tremble against mine. Her fingers trace the scar on my ribs like a silent prayer.

“I’ll come back to you,” I murmur, brushing my forehead against hers. “I swear it.”

Her voice breaks. “Promise?”

I press a kiss to her lips. “I’ve never meant anything more.”

I pull away before I change my mind, grabbing my gear and heading for the door. Just before I leave, I glance back.

She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching the sheet to her chest, eyes locked on me like I’m the only thing anchoring her to the earth. That look follows me all the way out into the night.

If not for anything else, I swear I’ll make it back tonight just to tell her that I love her.