They moved in, closing on the front of the house. Ghost slid to the wall and rose up, peeking in the picture window.

"Looks like no one's home."

"Should I knock?" Blood offered sarcastically a moment before he opened fire on the door, the burst of firepower busting the doorknob and lock all to hell.

Shades gave him a barely tolerant expression. "A little dramatic, are we?"

He grinned. "Ding-dong, Avon calling."

The men moved inside.

"Do your thing, and be quick about it," Shades snapped at Heavy.

"It's gonna take a minute. Riggin' this to look like a gas explosion is tricky, boss."

"Well, we ain't got all day."

Ghost lifted his chin. "Search the place. May find something of use."

A moment later Griz walked back down the hall hefting an assault rifle.

"Back room's like an arsenal. Check out this M249 SAW. Be a shame to blow all this shit to kingdom come."

Blood walked in the room. "There's a safe in the bedroom wall, but its locked tight."

Shades' radio crackled with a low voice. "We got a rider comin'."

It was Reno's voice, one of the DKs posted out on the road.

Shades put the two-way to his mouth. "Just one?"

"Yeah, just one."

"Is it Florida?"

"Yeah, but we got a problem."

"What's that?"

"He's got a chick on the back."

The men all looked at each other.

Fuck.

Ghost didn't have a problem killing Florida. He wouldn't lose one moment's sleep over it. But he didn't kill women.

"Collateral damage," Blood grunted.

"We're not killing an innocent woman," Shades growled at him.

Blood shrugged. "Your call. But how the fuck you gonna pull this off now?"

"You got sixty seconds. He's turning into the neighborhood," came the voice of a different lookout, one posted at the end of the street.

Shades looked over at Heavy. "You done?"

Heavy shoved some tools in a small black kit and jumped to his feet. "Yeah, let's get the fuck outta here."

They dashed out the back door, across the yard and into the wooded tree line at the back of the property. Then they squatted down and watched.

Just like Reno had said, Florida rolled down the street with a blonde ridin' bitch.

"You got a plan, boss?"

"I'm thinkin'. Feel free to throw an idea out there if one comes to you."

"We separate 'em. Only solution."

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking. Hammer, you and Heavy take the left-"

Ghost grabbed Shades arm. "No. Let me do this. I brought this down on the club, I need to fix it."

"You sure, Ghost."

"Yeah." He stood and jogged to the back of the house, hiding around the corner as Florida pulled in the drive. He waited until they climbed off the bike.

The men watched from the trees as their brother took up his position.

Blood looked over at Shades and whispered, "She's gonna be a witness."

Shades looked back at Blood. "Give him some credit, Blood."

Blood grinned.

Ghost peered around the corner. Florida took the lead, just like Ghost knew he would. No holding open doors and ladies first, and all that shit for that guy. He made the bitch trail behind him.

Ghost had a split second to move before they'd be inside. He jumped around the corner, catching the blonde with her foot on the step. He slammed the butt of his gun down on her head, and she dropped like a rock.

Florida, who was halfway in the door with one foot inside turned, saw Ghost and bolted inside.

Ghost jumped over the woman's slumped body and dashed after him. Apparently Florida had been caught without a weapon. Well, surprise, surprise.

The big man scrambled backwards, stumbling down the hall, taunting Ghost.

"You ain't got the fucking guts, son. You know who the fuck I am?"

Ghost's finger itched to pull the trigger, but he couldn't put a bullet in the man. The plan was to make it look like a gas explosion. Couldn't have the body turning up with bullet holes in it, now could he?

Florida kept backing up down the hall. Ghost knew where he was headed, that fucking back room with the arsenal of guns in it. But Florida didn't know Ghost knew about that.

He couldn't let him reach that room. This would quickly degenerate into a firefight, not just with him, but with all of his brothers. This entire fucking problem was because of him, because he'd given Jessie protection, and that act had come with all this baggage. Baggage that Ghost needed to handle. Because the last thing he wanted was one of his brothers getting shot because of his bullshit. He had to be the one to end this. And he had to do it now. Florida had about three more feet, and he'd be in that room.

"You the one that took my Rose?"

That question would have thrown Ghost if Jessie hadn't already told him all about that shit.

"Yeah, ol' man, I took your Rose. What are you gonna do about it?"

Florida spit at him, "You the one that took her to the DKs? Think I didn't know about that? I know all about that. I know all of it."

"Maybe you need to worry about what I know."

"You don't know shit."

"I know your own VP was setting you up."

That had the man frowning.

"I know your club was five minutes from sending in their nomads to deal with your fat ass."

The man was two inches taller than Ghost and had about a hundred pounds on him, with big beefy hands. When Ghost thought about those hands running over Jessie, manhandling her and pawing at her, he saw red.

It was time to make a move. Another step and Florida would be at the door to that arsenal.

Ghost bum-rushed him, slamming him up against the hallway wall where he fell to the floor, framed pictures crashing down around him.

When Florida saw the picture of his beloved Rose, the glass all smashed, he went over the edge.

"My Rose. You broke my Rose." He grabbed up the picture, hugging it to his chest. "I'll fix it, Rose. I'll put you back together."

"You'll meet her soon enough, old man." Then Ghost slammed the butt of his gun into the man's skull, and he slumped back against the wall, the framed picture falling into his lap. Ghost's eyes fell to the picture, and goddamn if she wasn't a dead ringer for Jessie. Holy fuck. The old guy was right.

His brothers burst in the door as Ghost stepped back, standing over Florida with his gun still in his hand.

Shades moved to stand next to him, looking down at the man. His eyes, too, fell on the photo, and then he looked at Ghost.

Ghost lifted his eyes to meet his. "Yeah, I know. Dead ringer, huh?"

"That's fucking weird as shit, man."

"I know. Gives me chills."

"Let's get the fuck out of here."

Ghost nodded, ready to get home. He suddenly needed to hold Jessie. He had to find her and make her see that they belonged together. Hell, they always had. And he was glad that she'd been smart enough for the both of them and had come looking for him in Sturgis. He'd always be grateful she'd had enough guts to do that.

Ghost looked back. "The girl?"

"The guys dragged her out into the yard, out by the tree line. When the place goes up, she'll be far enough away. Saw you hit her, she never saw it coming. She'll think it was the explosion that knocked her out. Good thinking, by the way."

"I have my moments."

Shades grinned and slapped him on the back. "Let's light this place up and go home."

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

The bikes rode through the gates and into the yard, kicking up a cloud of dust. Jessie searched the men one by one as they roared in, looking for Ghost, praying he was okay, that they hadn't had any fallen men. She knew the mission they'd been on was dangerous, and one or more of them could so easily have been killed.

The dust was so thick, and there were so many bikes; she began to panic. He had to be here. He had to be. And then she saw him climbing off his bike, yanking his helmet off and throwing it on the ground, his eyes searching the compound as well. Was he perhaps looking for her? Hoping she might be here? Needing to see her, needing to hold her, like she needed to hold him?

She began running toward him, and the movement must have drawn his eyes, for they locked with hers. A moment later he was catching her in his arms as she flung herself at him. He clutched her to him in a tight hold that told her everything she needed to know, and she felt safe again, and everything inside her settled.

His mouth dipped to her ear, and he whispered, "Brat."

She clung to him, unwilling to release her hold on him as she spoke against his neck. "I was so scared I'd lose you."

"Never," he whispered back. "I'm here. I'm right here, baby."

"I can't lose you, too."

At her reference to her brother, his hand came to the back of her head, stroking her hair.

"You won't, Jess." He was quiet a moment, and then continued in a voice rough with emotion. "I'm sorry about Robert. Forgive me?"

She nodded against his shoulder.

"Baby," he whispered, and that one word was filled with emotion. His arms around her tightened, and she knew he'd needed that forgiveness.

"I need you," she whispered back, her face still buried in his neck.

His hand stroked her hair. "I don't know if I can make you happy. But if you let me, I'm gonna damn well try, Jess."

"You do already."

"Do I?"

She nodded, and finally lifted her head to meet his eyes, because he needed to hear these words, to understand the truth in them. "You make me very happy, Ghost."

He took her head in his palms, looking deep in her eyes.

"We do this thing, there's no more running. I piss you off, you stay and fight it out with me," he ordered. Then added with a grin, "Seems you're good at that."