Chapter Three

Ghost's POV

The morning after the ambush, the air at the compound was charged with something I couldn’t name. The brothers moved around like ghosts themselves, eyes sharp, guns loaded consciously waiting for another hit. Everyone still blamed Luca, even though I had assured them it wasn't him and shown them the inscription on the wall. I didn't completely believe him but when I thought about last night and how he stood outside bleeding with bodies at his feet, I couldn’t ignore the truth.

He could have run but he had stayed. And now the cartel had left their mark on our wall warning us. Something was off. 

I found Luca in the storage room, sitting on a crate, wrists still cuffed, shirt torn and stained from the fight just as I had left him. With pale skin under bruises and blood crusted on his side he looked like an eyesore. But his eyes were clear and his gaze steady. 

“What did you tell them?” I barked, my gaze searing into his.

He just looked at me. 

“Answer the darn question.”

“Good morning to you too, Ghost.”

“Don't you dare taunt me. Why were they here?”

“I’m not with them, I have no idea.”

“Then would you please explain that mark on our wall?” I asked sarcastically.  

“Perhaps, if you tell me what it is, I will be able to respond.”

“Don't play me nigga. They said they are coming back for you cause you know too much.”

He paused for a while before he finally replied me. “They’re not warning you about me, Ghost. They’re warning you about someone else.”

“Nonesense.” That was what his words were to me cause it made no sense, but the calm way he said them unsettled me.

I stepped back, pacing. My boots echoed against the floor. “Looks like you’ve got a bag load of answers for everything, huh? You betrayed this club once and you think I’m stupid enough to believe you?”

He stared straight ahead.

“Well, I don’t care what you believe. I didn’t run last night. You saw that for yourself.”

“Well, who knows, that might just be a part of your perfectly planned script. Well, I will have you know that I do not believe you. And not everybody is a betrayer like you.  

“You're making a mistake, Ghost. Trust me.” The expression on his face was cold, almost like he was scared or something.  

“Fine,” I said finally. “You want me to believe you? You’re going to prove it.”

“How?”

“You said you know the cartel’s routes and their stash houses right? We’re paying a visit.”

He gave a tired nod. “You won’t like what you find.”

“Try me.”

Taking off his chains, I led him towards the door. The brothers watched as I dragged him out, their faces cold and eyes filled with hate. Viper leaned against the porch rail, cigarette burning low between his fingers.

“You sure about this, Ghost?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “But I’m doing it anyway.”

I let him freshen up and get a new pair of clothes to avoid questioning and we rode out before dawn, the wind cutting cold across my face. I cuffed Luca’s wrists to the side rails of the bike so he wouldn’t try anything silly even though a part of me knew he wouldnt. He just sat behind me, silently, the vibration of the engine carrying us into the woods where no one could hear the truth, whatever it was.

The safehouse sat off a dirt path, half hidden behind overgrown trees. It was one of ours years ago before the club split but it was taken away. The roof sagged and the paint peeled but I still remembered the nights we’d stored crates there, the sound of engines outside and the smell of smoke and whiskey. The memory gave me a nostalgic feel. 

Now it was dead quiet.

“You sure this is it?” I asked, cutting the engine.

“It’s one of theirs,” he said. “They move shipments through here. Guns, cash and intel.”

He stepped toward the door, cuffs still on. I followed closely, gun drawn out. Inside, the air smelled like dust and oil. The light filtered through broken blinds, streaking across stacks of crates. Each one had the cartel stamp with the cartel’s symbol- a black serpent coiled around a cross.

Luca walked to a particular crate, stopped in front of it and used his shoulder to shove the lid open. Papers spilled out. They contained maps, coded messages and lists of names.

I grabbed a sheet, scanning it and my throat dried up instantly. “These are our routes.” I managed to get out.

“Yeah,” Luca said. “Every one of them. They’ve been watching you for months.”

 “But how?”

“Because someone inside told them.”

I turned sharply. “You?”

“I have been a ghost for two years. Ain't no way it was me.”

Before I could reply, the floor creaked. Then came the sound I knew too well; safety clicks.

Gunfire exploded through the doorway before we knew it. Adrenaline rush drove behind some crates for cover as bullets tore through the walls. I fired back, counting shapes through the haze. There were three or four cartel soldiers masked with rifles raised and there was just me with a gun which had very few bullets left. 

We were trapped. 

A shot grazed my shoulder and another shattered the crate beside me. 

Suddenly, Luca grabbed a fallen pistol with his cuffed hands and rolled behind a beam. His shots were clean and precise leaving me in awe. I knew he was a good soldier but I had underestimated hi.. 

 “Left side!” he shouted.

I swiftly turned, returning fire. The fight felt endless as we exchanged gunfire. As I turned to aim at a shadow close by, I heard a shot very close to me. I was so sure there was no escaping it but as I turned, eyes wide, Luca shoved me out of the way and the bullet hit him instead.

He stumbled, clutching his side, but didn’t fall. He gritted his teeth, aimed again, and took the last man down with a single shot.

Defining silence settled in and I lowered my gun, chest heaving, and crossed the room to him. His shirt was soaked with blood as it pooled at his ribs.

“You’re an idiot,” I muttered, catching him before he collapsed.

He managed a faint smile. “You’re welcome.”

I dragged him outside, half-carrying him to the bike. He tried to help but his strength was gone and by the time we got to the compound, his lips were already pale and his breath shallow.

The brothers crowded around as I pulled him off the bike. “What the hell happened?” one of them asked.

“Cartel safehouse. He got hit.”

Viper sneered. “Should’ve left him there.”

“He’s still breathing because of me,” I snapped. “And I’m still breathing because of him. So if you won't help him for anything, do it because he saved me.”

That shut them up. Walking away, I carried Luca inside, straight to my room. He groaned as I set him on the bed, but he didn’t complain. When I cut his shirt open, the wound looked bad. I cleaned it myself and the smell of his blood filled the air. 

He hissed through his teeth as I poured some spirit.

“Talk,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “You said there’s a mole. Who?”

His voice was weak but clear. “Could be anyone but it is definitely someone close. But I am sure that the person who alerted them that I was here is the same person who alerted them we were out. It's too much of a coincidence appearing only where I'm at.”

My hand froze.

“So your point is?”

“Someone in your inner circle is giving you

out to your enemies and if you don't find out who, you might lose everything you've worked hard for in a matter of seconds.”