Ghost glared at his President, and his VP stepped in. Leaning forward, Shades looked at Ghost.

"You brought this to the club. Coulda kept your mouth shut and put her on a bus."

"I wouldn't keep that from the club." Ghost stared Shades down. "You know that."

Shades nodded. "Damn right. So get right with this, Ghost."

Ghost's eyes moved from Shades back to Butcher. "And if they want more? If they want her?"

His President just stared at him with a cold expression that didn't give Ghost a good feeling.

"Butcher, I gotta draw the line-"

"We draw the line where I say we draw the line," Butcher barked, cutting him off with an arch look that brooked no argument. But Ghost had to argue his point.

"I'm not lettin' you turn her over to the DKs. They'll use her to make their own deal with the Death Heads." He shook his head emphatically.

"And maybe we let them think that's a possibility," Butcher growled.

Ghost surged to his feet. "Is it?"

Shades was on his feet just as fast, his fist in Ghost chest, pushing him back down. "Sit the fuck down!"

Ghost fell back in his chair; Hammer grabbing his shoulders to keep him down.

Butcher remained calm, glaring at Ghost. "You keep your shit straight, son. And you keep her locked down until the meet. You understand?"

Shades turned to Butcher. "He understands, Prez."

Butcher glared at his VP. "I didn't fuckin' ask you." His eyes moved back to Ghost. "Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Ghost growled back.

Butcher slammed the gavel down. "Meeting fucking adjourned."

Boot and Slick accompanied Butcher down the hall to his office, and the rest of the club all shuffled out. Shades hung back with Ghost, who still sat in his chair wondering how this had all gotten so fucked up.

Ghost looked over at Shades. "You with him? You afraid she'll run, too?"

Shades stared him in the eyes and asked, "You tell me. Will she?"

Ghost rubbed his face and grudgingly admitted, "There's a damn good possibility."

"Then don't fuckin' tell her. She doesn't need to know shit till we're rollin' towards the Georgia State line."

Ghost rubbed his hand back and forth across his mouth for a long time, then finally looked over at Shades. "How far you think Butcher's gonna take this?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I fucking mean, Brother. Do you think he'd actually hand her over?"

Shades shook his head. "No way." His brows rose. "Now, he might let them think that, just like he stood at that back gate with you and me, and lied to the DKs about Skylar for me. But he ain't gonna hand over your girl. You know that, Ghost."

He nodded. He wanted to believe it. But this was Jessie they were talking about, and he just couldn't put her at risk.

Shades patted his shoulder. "Come on, man. It'll be fine."

They both stood and headed down the hall toward the common room.

When Ghost entered the room, the first thing he saw was the look on Jessie's face. She was pissed off, royally. The second thing he noticed was that the prospect he'd put in charge of keeping an eye on her was now standing behind her, one hand on the bar, one on the back of her barstool.

Then his eyes slid down the bar to see Ashley sitting a couple seats over looking too happy with herself, and a bad feeling snaked down his spine. If he were a betting man, he'd bet that Ashley had something to do with the look on Jessie's face.

He walked up to Boo. The man had a full, dark beard and tattoo sleeves that ran up both arms. He was a man Ghost felt he could count on, having passed every test the club had thrown his way so far. They connected eyes.

"Talk," Ghost snapped.

Boo stepped away from Jessie, and they moved away a couple of paces. He leaned in close to Ghost and said in a low voice. "Ashley said something to her, not sure what it was, but it rattled her enough to have her bolting for the door. I caught her in the yard. Been keeping 'em separated."

Ghost nodded, his eyes moving from Jessie's rigid back to Ashley.

"Who'd she take up with last night?" he asked Boo.

"JJ."

"Thanks, man."

Boo nodded and went back behind the bar.

Shades stepped over to Ghost. "Problem?"

"Apparently. Can you tell JJ to get Ashley out of here?"

"I can take care of her. Be my pleasure."

"Let JJ handle her. He fucked her last night."

Shades nodded, and Ghost moved in behind Jessie, taking up the position Boo had been in, one hand on the bar, one on the back of her barstool. "We need to talk."

She whirled on him and bit out, "You're turning me over to them? I'm part of a deal?"

Ghost's eyes lifted over Jessie's head for a split second to touch on Ashley. Just then JJ walked past, and Ghost knew he'd heard what Jessie had just said. Hell, half the damn room had heard her.

And Ghost knew exactly where that shit had come from. Ashley. And she had to have heard it from someone, most likely last night in bed with JJ. That fucking pillow talk was going to get his ass beat. But Ghost couldn't deal with him now. He had a pissed off woman he was supposed to get under control and locked down.

Fucking hell.

Ghost grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled her off the stool. "Let's go."

"Let me go. I'm not going anywhere with you. Go to hell."

Too late, sweetheart, he was already there.

She tried to pull back, but that barely slowed him down as he hauled her down the hall. He threw open the second door on the right and shoved her inside.

It was a room he sometimes used when he stayed at the clubhouse, which was rarely. It was barebones with just a twin bed against the wall, a small table next to it with a lamp and a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on it.

There was one window, and the decorating consisted of one lone, framed photo of himself and Robert. It was a shot he'd always liked, from back when they were in High School. They'd both had their arms around each other, laughing.

Jessie whirled to look at him as he slammed the door.

"You're going to turn me over to them, aren't you?"

"Shut up, and listen to me for one goddamn minute!"

"You're just using me. How could you? I came to you for help. God, I never should have trusted you!"

That cut him, deeper than he cared to admit. And it pissed him off.

"Yeah, Jess, you came to me for help. And you were dragging a shit ton of trouble with you. And I took that on. No fucking hesitation. I said I'd help you. I told you I keep you safe. But you don't get a say in how I do that or how that happens."

"I don't have to listen to you. You're not the man I thought you were."

"You're right, babe. I'm not. Maybe I never was. But it's time to grow up, little girl. And yes, you are going to do whatever the fuck I tell you."

"I don't have to stay and listen to this. I'm leaving. I'm going to my mom's." She made to move past him to the door. He yanked her back with a hand clamped around her arm.

"Your mom lives in fucking Daytona, Jess. That's Death Heads territory. That's the last fucking place you're going."

"You can't stop me."

"Wanna bet?"

Ghost strode out into the common room and took a seat at the bar next to Shades.

Shades brows rose as he looked over at Ghost. "Everything okay?"

"Yup."

They could hear screaming and yelling coming from down the hall.

"Don't sound like it."

Ghost tipped his head down to light up a smoke, then he tossed the lighter on the bar, blew out a pissed off stream of smoke and admitted, "I cuffed her to the bed."

Shades cocked a brow. "You what?"

"Only way to keep her in the room."

They heard a crash.

"What was that?" Shades asked him.

Ghost took a sip of his drink. "Probably a half empty bottle of Jack."

Shades nodded. "Well, as long as it was half empty and all."

Ghost grinned. "Shut up."

"She scare you, Ghost? 'Cause if she doesn't scare the hell out of you a little, she's not the one."

"She scares the shit out of me."

Shades laughed.

"Skylar scare you?"

"Every damn day, bro."

"Women."

"Yup. We got some business to take care of. You gonna leave her in there?"

"Yup."

Shades laughed. "Somehow I don't think Butcher's gonna like hearing all that caterwaulin' going on all day."

"Guess it sucks to be him, then. He wanted her locked down. She's locked down."

"Okay, then. Let's roll."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

Hours passed as Jessie lie on the bed, one wrist cuffed to the bedpost, silently fuming.

She'd broken just about everything in sight. The bottle of booze she'd smashed against the door. The lamp, she'd thrown at the window, cracking it. She'd even flung the rickety table across the room. The only thing she hadn't smashed was the framed photo of Ghost and Robert. Partly because she couldn't reach it and partly because she wasn't sure she could bring herself to smash it.

She stared at it now as she lie there. It must have been taken back in High School, but by whom, she wondered. They looked so happy, the best of buds.

She was shaken from her musing by the sound of the doorknob rattling. A moment later, it was flung open, and there stood Blood, of all people.

Jessie instinctively scooted back against the headboard as fear shot through her. She watched as he folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe, his eyes scanning the room, taking in the carnage.