Broken Chrome

Chapter 4 part 2

BROKEN CHROME

Chapter Four

Home of the Iron Saints

Part Two

The clubhouse smelled nothing like Emma remembered.

Ten years ago, the Iron Saints’ clubhouse had been a dark, smoky place where loud music shook the walls and bikers crowded around scarred wooden tables.

This place was different.

Still rough around the edges.

Still unmistakably a motorcycle club.

But cleaner.

More organized.

More serious.

The main room opened into a large bar with polished wood counters. Leather couches lined the walls, and photographs covered nearly every available surface.

Old Iron Saints.

Memorial photographs.

Rides.

Weddings.

Children.

Families.

Emma stopped walking.

She stared at a photograph near the bar.

A little girl sat on the shoulders of a massive biker while a dozen men stood behind them laughing.

“This isn’t what I expected.”

Ghost glanced at her.

“What did you expect?”

“Something worse.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“Give us time.”

She almost smiled.

Almost.

Then a woman’s voice came from behind the bar.

“Well, damn.”

Emma turned.

A woman around her age stood there, wiping a glass with a towel.

She had long dark hair, a sleeve of tattoos, and a smile that immediately made Emma feel less like an intruder.

The woman walked around the bar.

“You must be Emma.”

Emma looked at Ghost.

“Apparently everybody knows who I am.”

The woman laughed.

“Blackwater knows everything.”

Ghost sighed.

“This is Lena.”

Lena extended her hand.

“I’m married to Bishop.”

Emma shook it.

“Nice to meet you.”

Lena looked between her and Ghost.

Then she smiled knowingly.

“So you’re the Emma.”

Ghost’s face hardened.

“Lena.”

“What?”

“Don’t.”

She raised both hands.

“I’m just saying hello.”

Emma looked at Ghost.

“The Emma?”

Lena’s expression softened.

“He’s talked about you.”

Emma’s heart skipped.

“He did?”

Ghost glared at Lena.

She wisely turned back toward the bar.

“Coffee?”

Emma nodded.

“Please.”

Ghost watched her walk away.

Emma turned toward him.

“You talked about me?”

He looked uncomfortable.

“Sometimes.”

“For ten years?”

His silence answered.

Before she could ask anything else, a large man approached from the hallway.

He was older than Ghost, probably in his fifties, with silver threaded through his dark beard.

He stopped several feet away.

“Emma Brooks.”

She nodded cautiously.

“Yes.”

“I’m Bishop.”

Ghost’s right-hand man.

She remembered him.

He’d been younger then, but she recognized his eyes.

“You knew me.”

“I did.”

Bishop studied her for a moment.

Then he said quietly,

“We’re glad you’re home.”

Something about the way he said it made Emma uncomfortable.

“Why?”

Bishop looked at Ghost.

Ghost gave him a warning look.

Bishop sighed.

“Not the time.”

Emma’s curiosity sharpened.

“Apparently there’s never a time.”

Ghost stepped closer.

“Come with me.”

“Where?”

“My office.”

“I don’t think—”

“Emma.”

She glared at him.

He stared back.

Finally, she followed.

⸻

Ghost’s office was at the end of a long hallway.

He opened the door.

Emma stepped inside.

And stopped.

The room was surprisingly simple.

A large desk.

Two leather chairs.

A gun safe.

A bookshelf.

A worn couch.

And one wall covered in photographs.

Emma slowly approached.

Her breath caught.

There were pictures of the Iron Saints.

Club events.

Memorials.

Charity rides.

Children.

Then she saw herself.

Her picture was tucked into the corner of a wooden frame.

It wasn’t the photograph she’d seen earlier.

This one had been taken at the lake.

She was laughing.

Ghost stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist.

Emma remembered that day.

She remembered everything.

The picnic.

The swimming.

The way he’d carried her out of the water when she pretended she couldn’t swim.

She touched the edge of the frame.

“You kept this?”

Ghost stood behind her.

“I kept everything.”

Her fingers trembled.

“Why?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

“Because I couldn’t throw you away.”

Emma turned around.

“Then why did you?”

His face tightened.

“I didn’t.”

“You disappeared.”

“I know.”

“You abandoned me.”

“I know.”

“Then explain it.”

Ghost looked at the floor.

“I can’t.”

Her frustration boiled over.

“You always say that.”

He finally met her eyes.

“Because the truth isn’t mine to tell.”

“Whose is it?”

His silence was answer enough.

“Someone else’s.”

“Someone who is still alive?”

Ghost nodded.

Emma’s heart sank.

“Who?”

“I can’t tell you yet.”

“Yet?”

He stepped closer.

“Things are moving too fast.”

She shook her head.

“You expect me to trust you?”

“No.”

That surprised her.

“What?”

“I don’t expect you to trust me.”

He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small metal box.

“I expect you to stay alive long enough to decide whether I deserve it.”

He placed the box on the desk.

Emma stared at it.

“What’s inside?”

“Something that belongs to you.”

She opened the lid.

Her breath caught.

Inside was a silver necklace.

A tiny angel pendant.

Her necklace.

The one she’d thought she’d lost the night Ryder disappeared.

Her fingers trembled as she picked it up.

“I thought this was gone.”

“It was.”

“Where did you find it?”

Ghost looked at her.

“I didn’t.”

Emma’s heart stopped.

“Then who did?”

His expression darkened.

“It was mailed to me the morning after you left.”

She looked at the necklace.

A strange chill ran through her.

“Why would someone send this to you?”

Ghost’s voice was barely audible.

“Because they wanted me to know they had been watching you.”

Emma looked up.

“Who?”

Ghost didn’t answer.

Instead, he reached into the box again.

Underneath the necklace was a folded piece of paper.

Emma unfolded it.

Five words were written in faded ink.

SHE’S BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU.

Her stomach turned.

“Who wrote this?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you believed them.”

Ghost’s eyes filled with something that looked like shame.

“I believed I was protecting you.”

Emma stared at him.

“And you decided for me.”

“Yes.”

The honesty hurt more than another lie would have.

She folded the note.

“That’s what you did wrong.”

Ghost nodded.

“I know.”

“You didn’t give me a choice.”

“I know.”

“You decided I couldn’t handle the truth.”

“I was afraid you’d die because of it.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“And I spent ten years thinking you didn’t love me.”

His face crumpled for half a second.

Then he whispered,

“I loved you enough to let you hate me.”

Emma looked away.

That sentence was worse than anything he’d said.

Because some small, stubborn part of her believed him.

⸻

A knock sounded.

Bishop entered without waiting.

“Prez.”

Ghost immediately straightened.

“What?”

“We found something.”

Bishop held up a folder.

“Where?”

“Old storage room.”

Ghost took it.

Emma watched as he opened the folder.

His expression changed.

“What is it?” she asked.

Ghost slowly removed a photograph.

Emma stepped closer.

It showed a younger Ghost.

He was standing beside his motorcycle.

Beside him was a man Emma didn’t recognize.

But Ghost did.

She could tell.

“Who is that?”

Ghost stared at the photograph.

His jaw tightened.

“My brother.”

Emma frowned.

“You have a brother?”

“Had.”

She looked at Bishop.

Bishop’s expression was grim.

Ghost turned the photograph over.

There was writing on the back.

Emma read it over his shoulder.

Ryder and Cole — one last ride before everything changed.

Her heart pounded.

“Who was Cole?”

Ghost swallowed.

“My younger brother.”

“What happened to him?”

Ghost’s eyes lifted to hers.

“He disappeared the same night I was supposed to meet you.”

Emma stopped breathing.

“What?”

Bishop closed the door behind him.

Ghost looked down at the photograph.

“I never told you because I thought he was dead.”

Emma stared at him.

“And now?”

Ghost’s phone buzzed.

He pulled it from his pocket.

Read the message.

Then slowly turned the screen toward her.

A photograph.

A man standing in the shadows.

Older.

Bearded.

But unmistakably alive.

Emma looked at Ghost.

His face had gone completely pale.

Under the photograph was a single message:

YOU SHOULD HAVE COME LOOKING FOR YOUR BROTHER.

Ghost’s hand tightened around the phone.

Emma whispered,

“He’s alive.”

Ghost nodded.

Then another message appeared.

AND HE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING.

The room went silent.

For ten years, Emma had believed Ryder Callahan abandoned her.

Now she was beginning to understand.

He hadn’t simply disappeared.

He’d been running from something.

And whatever had happened that night had never truly ended.

It had only been waiting for her to come home.