Masked & Miserable: A Novella of the Sacred Hearts MC (Book 3.5) by A.J. Downey

angry, tattered, almost in shreds but
proud. You know? Because she’s our flag!” He pounded his chest awkwardly
at the word ‘our’ his hand dropping limp into his lap. “Good ‘ol U.S. of A.
stars ‘n bars! Tried and true,” he chuckled. “Truest bluest eyes I ever seen…
all my fucking fault…”
    I frowned, “Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about,”
I said ruefully.
    “Sapphire eyes!” he half shouted and I jumped and looked at
him. He blearily looked back at me and I couldn’t help it. I cracked up.
    “You are fuckin’ lit, yo!” I laughed.
    “I shoulda kilt him the first time. I didna kilt him in
time…” He rested his head back against the passenger glass and then smacked his
head against it hard. I rolled up to a stop light and grabbed his jacket’s arm
and pulled him more upright to keep him from banging his head against the glass
again and again.
    “Dude Ghost, you’re starting to freak me out man,” and he
was, his ramblings growing darker and more morose by the second. He wasn’t
making sense but at the same time his words were laced with a depth of emotion
that had me sinking into a deep foreboding dread.
    “I shoulda been there Squick. I shoulda been the one not
him.” He closed his eyes and I think he passed out. I have no idea what the
fuck… I drove to the clubhouse to the sound of Ghost softly snoring and pulled
up into the steep drive. Dragon and Data’s bikes were out front and I breathed
a bit easier. I parked the truck near the door and went into the clubhouse. I
looked up and put my hands up and swallowed hard.
    “The fuck you doin’ here?” Dragon grated and pointed his
Browning skyward. I breathed out slowly and closed my eyes.
    “Dray called me, told me to go pick up Ghost from The Spot,”
I said.
    “Where is he?” Dragon asked looking past me at the door
which hung open behind me.
    “Passed out in the truck.”
    “Put yer damned hands down,” Dragon waved his gun at me
grinning and I dropped my hands to my sides and smiled.
    “You scared the shit out of me,” I said with a nervous
laugh.
    “You!? What the fuck you think I was thinkin’? You’ve never
been in an MC turf war but I have,” he cleared his throat, “Last time we had
cars or trucks come by a club house unexpectedly…” he didn’t finish, instead he
said, “Well never mind that. Let’s go get our boy and git him to bed.” Dragon
followed me out to the truck and gave a low whistle.
    “Yeah I know, right?” I said when he went up to the
passenger side door.
    “Boy got himself tore up from the floor up.” Dragon tsked,
“You were right to bring ‘im here.”
    “Yeah well I’ve only been out to his place the once for that
barbeque. No fucking idea how to get out there in the dark,” I told him. Dragon
opened the door to the truck and Ghost slumped and fell halfway out. Dragon
righted him and got under his one side, draping Ghost’s arm over his broad
shoulders.
    “Get his other side.” I moved in and got Ghost’s arm up
around me. He reeked like a distillery and I grimaced. I stooped and we dragged
Ghost between us, the boots of his steel toes barely scraping the floor between
us. It was awkward as hell for me, being so tall, but I managed.
    “Where to?” I asked.
    “It’s a good thing we got some of these rooms finished,”
Dragon grunted and we went back into the sprawling complex of rooms that made
up the club house. It was true we’d been working our asses off since the failed
summer lake run to get the rest of the club house in shape. We needed the
space. Dragon and Dray had been going out on runs to try and talk some of the
outlying chapters and Sacred Hearts nomads into patching over into the mother
chapter to bolster our numbers.
    Things remained tense with the whole Suicide Kings
situation. They’d been quiet… too quiet and Dragon called it the calm before
the storm. He’d done this sort of thing before and so he would know best and so
when he spoke