The Unbreakable (Ghost #3)

“Fucking bitch!” The idiot in front of me snarls as he staggers back, glaring at me with his good eye. The other one is swollen shut, having been punched one too many times when the son of a bitch tried to touch my chest.

I don’t bother saying anything, sending a hard punch to his temple instead, knocking him out. I stand over his unconscious body for a few seconds before kicking his side and stomping out of the ring. Stupid son of a bitch. Because of him I’ll have to wear concealer for the next few days cause he thought it would be a good idea to hit my face.

Blake is going to have a fit.

I ignore the loud crowd cheering at my win, putting on my shoes and jacket, then head straight to the exit, where my man is already waiting for me with our money. The MC knows he's with me, mainly thanks to the mask I got for Blake. It's the exact same one as I wear, which makes everyone recognize Blake as mine.

We walk outside to my Yamaha, which I brought to Berkeley specifically for going to the club. I thought about getting a new one, but in the end decided against it. I already had to get a new car, since that motherfucking Blondie shot at my last one.

The mere thought of him makes my blood boil. I wish I could kill him myself.

“-kay?” I’m snapped out of my thoughts by a hand waving in front of my face. I look up, only to see Blake staring at me worriedly. “Are you okay? You zoned out a bit…” I smile under my mask at him. Such a worrywart.

“I’m fine. Let’s go home.” I quietly say, so that no one in the parking lot hears my voice.

“As you wish m’lady.” Blake playfully bows, winking at me. I almost laugh at him. He’s so cute.

We ride in peace, but I still make sure to check our surroundings once in a while. After getting run off the road twice, I don’t want to risk it. They say the third time’s the charm and I’m seriously worried I wouldn’t be able to survive if such thing happened again. I have too much to live for to just throw it all away.

I lean my head on Blake’s back, squeezing him tightly in my arms. My amazing man. Even after everything that happened, he stayed with me, loved me and helped me heal. I will always be grateful for having him.

We reach the clubhouse in record time, having used a few shortcuts. As soon as we dismount the bike, we’re greeted by Rage and Brute as they smoke outside.

They’re part of the San Francisco chapter of Shadow Warriors – Tank’s club. They’re twins, but Brute has a short scar on his eyebrow that helps me distinguish him from his brother.

“Hey kids!” They wave as Blake and I walk inside, taking off our masks.

“We’re not kids!” I huff, even though I know they’ll still treat me like a child. As if they’re so much older! They’re barely 27 and they dare call me a kid. So annoying.

“Gunner wants to see you.” Rage states seriously, his deep voice making the words sound almost scary.

“Damn it.”

“Why?” Blake asks, handing the bag with our money to Vegas, who’s behind the bar as usual. “Thanks.”

“Don’t know. He just said to get you when you come back from your fight.” I sigh tiredly. I just want to change and go home, is that too much to ask for?

“Come on, the sooner we get it over with, the sooner we can go home.” Blake encourages, clearly seeing my lack of enthusiasm.

“Okay… I’ll be back soon.” With that I give my man a peck and head to the basement, where the spare bedrooms are. Gunner left one solely for me, for when I need to change before and after a fight.

After taking out something to change into, I go to the bathroom to wash off my hair dye.

I started coming here after fights almost a year ago. At first I was hesitant about getting involved with another group of bikers, but after spending some time with the guys here, talking about Squirrel’s protection, I came to know they’re just like Tank’s squad, just slightly… rougher. They don’t beat around the bush, always speaking their minds, and they have no shame whatsoever. I can’t even count how many times I came here to talk to Gunner only to find someone fucking in the common room. They ‘live to the fullest’ as Smokey once said. He’s almost always high, so I don’t really take him seriously. Once he even got confused about Ghost and me. He tried to persuade me that ‘they can’t be the same person’ cause 'he would’ve noticed'.

Despite how open the guys might be about their sexual adventures, they’re actually good guys and once they put their minds to something, they do their best. They were tremendously helpful with watching over Michelle and didn’t even ask for much in return. I just had to take someone from the club to my fights a few times, so they could get into the ring without problems. Someone was supposedly stealing their drugs and distributing them on their own, mostly in illegal fighting clubs, but to get there you either have to be a client with a deep pocket, a fighter, or come with a fighter. Since they couldn’t take their cuts with them, they needed another way in. And that way in was me, the Ghost. It wasn’t exactly difficult, since I always go to my fights with Blake, so seeing me with other people wasn’t a surprise, but sometimes I had to agree to more than one fight at a time so they could spend more time looking for whoever they were looking for, which is not something I like to do. It’s exhausting.

As the red dye slowly disappears from my waist-length hair, I think about what the Prez could possibly want from me. I don’t think it’s anything bad, since he would’ve just called me or Blake, but the fact that he’s been waiting for me to finish my fight to speak to me unnerves me.

I just hope it’s not what I think it is.

I’m not in the mood to do that.

Sighing tiredly, I wash my hair with the apple-scented shampoo, which I left here specifically for when I need to wash up after a fight, then leave the bathroom to get dressed.

Once I’ve put on a pair of sweatpants and Blake’s hoodie, I walk back to the common room, where I’m met by almost every member of the club. The club’s VP, Bone, yells out ‘church’ before heading towards the office where they hold their meetings.

Uh oh, it doesn’t look good.

I walk up to Blake and grasp his hand, not missing the slight frown etched on his face as he glances at me.

It really doesn’t look good.

I don’t like it.

“Hey kids.” Gunner greets when we walk into the room, getting only a resigned sigh from me. There’s no use arguing anymore.

“Hey old man. – I mock before getting serious – Why did you want to see me? It’s almost 1 a.m., I’m sure you have better things to do than wait for me.” I sit on Blake’s lap, placing my arm around his shoulder and running my fingertips over the back of his neck, staring at the older man quizzically.

“I got a call from my cousin.”

“So?” Blake and I scoff simultaneously.

“Apparently… he and Treasure are getting married.” I groan in annoyance at this. Is he serious?!

“I know. But why did you want to speak to me?!” I repeat, exasperated.

“I need a favor.”

“Of course you do.” I hear Blake mutter grumpily. Guess he wants to go home as much as I do.

“What is it?”

“I need you to... – Gunner pauses, as if for a dramatic effect – get my gift to Tank.” He grins, making everyone chuckle, while Blake groans loudly, putting his head on my shoulder.

I just blankly stare at the guy in front of me.

“Asshole.” I stick my tongue at him then get off Blake’s lap and walk out, leaving the laughing hyenas behind. Unbelievable! He got me worried over nothing! Stupid Gunner.