Page 3

CHAPTER THREE

STAR

9 weeks later

The blood is pooling around me, but as I try to escape it, to move, get up and run, I can’t. My legs won’t move, and my entire body is frozen still. I feel a hot breath tickle the edge of my ear, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to prickle in fear. As I open my mouth to scream, to yell for help, nothing comes out. I close my eyes, bracing myself for what I know is coming, for what I have survived before, for what I will continue to survive.

“Darlin’,” a deep voice calls out, and my heart lurches at the sound. “Darlin’,” he repeats. His body presses against mine, and as my heart rate begins to slow, that’s when I know I will be okay. I will be alright because he’s here. “Darlin’, open your eyes,” he says, again in a soft tone, coaxing me to awake from the nightmare.

I blink, and as my eyes open, I see Ghost’s ice-blue eyes staring down at me, full of concern and sadness. My hand instinctively reaches up and cups his face, making sure he is real and I’m not still dreaming.

I release a long exhale. “It was a dream,” I say softly, more to myself than to Ghost.

His hand cups my cheeks, and his thumb begins to stroke away the tears I must have been crying. He shakes his head. “That ain’t no dream, darlin’. That was a nightmare, fucking torture,” he says, his voice rough with sleep.

I give him a smile and shrug. “I’m okay. I mean, it would be weird if I was totally normal after everything I’ve been through, right?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

He sees through my bravado, not buying it, just like he always does. “Tell me about it. Tell me about your nightmare. You ain’t facing it alone, and you ain’t fucking brushing over this shit with your fake nothing affects me bullshit,” he growls, with a stern ‘I’m not taking any shit’ tone.

I sigh and roll my eyes at him. “Do you always have to be such a bossy little asshole?” I ask, playfully pinching his cheek.

He whips his head to the side, nipping the pad of my thumb between his teeth. “Darlin’, you know damn well there ain’t nothing fucking little about me. Now stop trying to deviate the conversation and fucking tell me about your nightmare,” he demands.

I look away. “If I tell you, then they are in my waking life, as well as my sleeping time. I don’t want them touching you, Enzo, or my daily life,” I confess.

He takes hold of my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You were screaming. Your body is covered in sweat, and your entire body was trembling, not to mention the fact that you were pulling and fucking crying. Now tell me. Let me fight them with you,” he orders firmly.

“What are you going to do? Jump into my dreams and fight the bad guys?” I retort.

“Fucking right I will.” He nods with certainty, like that was a plausible thing.

I grin, and a small laugh escapes my lips. “You would do it if you fucking could,” I breathe.

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look down at me, waiting for me to tell him about my nightmare.

I sigh. “Fine.” I continue to tell him about my nightmares. I have more than one. They tend to differ every now and again. They aren’t every night, maybe two or three times a month. I don’t look at his face while I relay it all to him, knowing exactly what I would see if I did. I don’t like looking or feeling weak, and although it’s Ghost, and he knows me better than I know myself, it still doesn’t sit right with me. As I finish, I finally allow myself to look up at him. His face is hard as stone, and that glacial stare I’ve seen so many shit their pants over is glaring back at me.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You can’t because you already killed him,” I point out.

“Then I will fucking find his body parts and kill him again, piece by fucking piece,” he snarls, like a rabid dog ready to strike. He pushes himself up to sit next to me, staring out of the window and at the moonlit sky. The bedsheet pools at his waist, revealing his muscular tattooed body dimly lit by the moon and cast in shadows.

I sit up and move closer to him, straddling his lap. “Look at me, Casper,” I whisper, knowing that calling him that will rile him up.

His eyes instantly lock with mine.

I run my nails affectionately up and down the back of his neck, through the ends of his hair. “You are my warrior. You will always be there to protect me, you will always be there to rescue me, and I will always be there to bust your balls,” I tease. “We can’t change what happened. However, we can make sure it doesn’t continue to spill into our lives now. My nightmares are not yours to burden. They will stop eventually. As long as I have you to hold me, then I can survive even Freddie Kruger coming into my nightmares.” I smile softly.

His hands glide along my thigh to the curve of my behind. “You’re wrong. Your burdens are my burdens. I don’t want you feeling any pain; I don’t want you having to relive what that motherfucker did, and like fuck is Freddie getting anywhere near your fucking dreams. I will slit his fucking throat for even trying to get near you.”

My grin widens. “Casper, only you could threaten a fictional character.”

He moves quickly and flips me onto my back. I wrap my legs around his waist as he leans down on his elbow. “I’d threaten fucking Winnie the Pooh if I thought he would hurt you.” He smirks, rolling his hips playfully and pressing his hard length against my centre. I groan in response. “Now I’m going to fuck you until your body and mind are full of me,” he says with another grind of his hips.

“You’re talking a big game there, Casper.” I counter.

He reaches down and yanks my shorts off with a swift pull before chucking them over his shoulder. “Apparently you need reminding just how big I am, darlin’,” he says before thrusting into me, filling me in one quick movement.

I gasp as my body suddenly has to adjust to him.

He arches his brow at me. “Now you remember.” He smirks cockily. “I’m going to fill every part of you with my cum, until every time you move, you will feel me. All you will smell is my scent, and all you will taste is me. Every thought you have will be consumed by me,” he growls, rolling his hips against me.

My eyes alight with heat, a challenging smile playing at my lips. “Well, come on then, Casper. Fucking consume me,” I taunt.

* * *

“Holy fucking shit!” I breathe as I stare up at the private jet. Ghost drapes his arm over my shoulder with Enzo in his other arm.

“I really want to fuck you on that thing. Reckon the pilot would mind taking a break for ten minutes?” Ghost asks.

I tilt my head, looking up at him. “Ten minutes,” I quip, arching my brow at him.

“Alright fine, I will make it 20 if you let me eat you first.” He winks.

“Daaadd Da!” Enzo yells, bouncing excitedly in his arms.

My grin widens. “We are surrounded on that plane. There ain’t no way we will find time or space to have fun.” Ghost’s eyes flicker with disappointment. I reach up and briefly press my lips to his.

“Come on, and for the love of God, can you two just refrain from fucking on the plane? It’s unsanitary with the children so close,” Cash teases with exasperation as he walks past us and up the stairs on the plane.

“Ffffuck!” Enzo yells, spitting saliva everywhere.

“No, little man. Not today,” Ghost sighs with disappointment. I roll my eyes at him as we walk up the steps of the plane. A pretty flight attendant greets us with glasses of champagne. I quickly take one, but Ghost refuses. He hates champagne, so unless it’s a beer or spirits, he won’t touch it. We move through the plane to take our seats. Everyone else is already seated on the plane, all smiling and talking without worry or fear constantly etched in their expressions. It’s a damn good sight to see. They deserve it. We all fucking deserve it.

Alina catches my eye as she walks over to me, and I quickly pull her into a hug. After what happened, watching her nearly die before me has fused a deep connection between us. I often wonder if her dreams are plagued like mine, but I refuse to taint her happiness.

“How are you feeling?” I ask as I release her from my embrace.

She smiles. “I’m tired. I feel like I could sleep for a week, but Hap has been great,” she says, turning and looking at Hap holding their son Phoenix.

“Well, he is still tiny, so you are bound to feel exhausted. You’re pumping through this trip, right? So, you can at least have a drink at the bachelorette party?” I ask.

“Yes, I’ve been pumping and freezing milk. I am so looking forward to having a nice ice-cold glass of vodka.” She sighs wistfully. “Do you think Queenie will be okay?” she asks, concern in her eyes.

“Of course. Plus, we have that twenty-four hour butler or nanny, or whatever it was your friend offered to us. This is the break we all need,” I remind her. “Queenie will let her hair down after the wedding,” I add, and Alina nods.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you could take your seats as we prepare for take-off,” the hostess says, smiling.

“Wait. Where are Rage and Dixie?” I ask, realising they aren’t here yet.

“Fuck’s sake,” Beast mutters before he pulls out his phone to try and ring him.

“They’re here!” Maggie yells with her face pressed up against the glass.

“What the fuck?” Ghost mutters, looking out the window.

I get to my feet and walk towards the plane entrance.

Dixie walks onto the plane, panting. “Sorry, we had to stop and get supplies.”

“Supplies? What do you mean? We are going to Vegas, not the bloody desert,” I point out.

“Supplies for Erebus,” she breathes.

“Erebus?” I frown. She points to the front of the plane, and that’s when I turn to see Rage walking onto the plane with a huge black dog.

“What the fuck?!” I screech. “Rage, you can’t bring that dog on here and to Vegas,” I point out.

“I can’t leave him. I just rescued him from some nasty cunt,” he argues.

Alina holds up her hand, and everyone pauses with their questions. “Firstly Rage, is that dog friendly?” she asks.

“Well, he hasn’t bitten me or Dixie.” He shrugs.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “Rage, there are children here,” I argue. As soon as I point that fact out, Oliver jumps towards the dog with excitement.

“He is so cool!” Oliver beams while stroking the dog. Erebus rewards Oliver with a huge, slobbery lick.

“Does that answer your question?” Rage counters.

“Right, let me ring Eric. He may allow us to bring the dog,” Alina states, lifting her phone to her ear.

“Erebus,” Rage corrects her.

“Right, Erebus,” Alina repeats.

“If that fucking dog hurts my kid or woman, I will fucking kill you,” Ghost threatens Rage. I roll my eyes and walk towards Erebus, and as I crouch down in front of him, his little stubby tail begins to wag frantically as I make a fuss of him.

“You’re just a big baby. Yes, you are,” I coo.

“I’m more dangerous than Erebus,” Rage argues.

“I mean, he has a point there,” I agree, glancing up at Ghost.

“Rage, what breed of dog is it?” Alina asks, covering the mouthpiece of her phone.

“Cane Corso,” he answers.

Alina nods and repeats it back to Eric. We all watch on, hoping that he allows the dog, because I know Rage won’t come if it means he has to leave the dog behind.

She smiles and disconnects. “Apparently, Eric has three Cane Corso’s. He will have the best food and pet supplies added to our suites.” She grins.

“Okay, if we could please get seated, we cannot wait any longer,” the flight attendant politely orders.

We take our seats and buckle up, with Rage and Dixie sitting opposite us.

“So, how did you rescue Erebus from the guy?” I ask.

Ghost sighs. “Why are you asking him that?” he questions.

I look at Ghost and shrug. “What?”

“I slit his fucking throat and cut off his pinkie,” he says, placing the pinkie finger inside a Ziploc bag on the table.

Ghost raises his brow at me in an ‘I told you so’ expression. “Jesus Christ, Rage,” I say with disgust.

He shrugs and places it back in his pocket.

“I told him it wouldn’t be a good idea to bring it,” Dixie points out.

“It’s just a keepsake,” he argues.

“I’m just saying Rage, if that finger is present at my wedding, or in the wedding photos, I will shove it so far up your ass you will be gagging on it,” I threaten.

“Noted.” Rage nods.

I’m sure it will be fine. I mean, what could go wrong with a group of outlaw bikers, kids, and a dog the size of a small horse?