Chapter 7

FORD

I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

There were two reasons why. One, Bryce had just walked into the main room of the compound with his shirt in his hand, which meant his beautiful bare chest was on display for me to drool over. The second being Shiloh. She was sitting on one of the far couches in the room, her bowl of cereal on a stable table on her lap, her dogs by her feet, and her evil chinchilla beside her looking down at the dogs. The disturbing part, however, was she was talking to Darth. Well, I had to assume it was Darth because I couldn’t see him, but apparently, she could. Fuck, this war room meeting was not going to be fun. Telling Deck that his kid was talking and seeing our dead brother and her bodyguard was not something I was looking forward to doing. Sticking a sharp knife up my arse promised to be more fun.

 

***

 

“Okay, Ford. You called this meeting, so what’s on your mind?” Booth said from his position at the head of the large wooden table.

I kept my eyes trained on the logo carved into the table. Our club was a proud one, and the skull with an army helmet and two sniper rifles in place of crossbones meant more than just a few ex-soldiers set up a motorcycle club. It represented our brotherhood, our team. The ties that bound us together, the motivation to keep going despite the horror we had experienced. Loyalty, honour, respect. Words we lived by every day. And today, I was going to test those ties.

I looked over at Bryce. Even though he was a patched member of the club like me, he didn’t hold an officer patch, so he sat down at the end of the table across from me. The prospects all had a seat against the wall, not at the table. They had to earn their position at the table. Booth had already put it to the patches that Seb was to receive his full cut soon. He had the top rocker, but his ‘prospect’ bottom rocker would soon be replaced. We did things slightly different than the outlaw motorcycle clubs. Theirs was the other way around. To distinguish us to the authorities as a law-abiding club, we put the prospect rocker on the bottom of our cuts.  Seb had earned his bottom rocker, and I, for one, was proud to have him sit with us.

With a slight nod of his head, Bryce silently urged me to continue. I licked my dry lips and fiddled with the lighter in my hand, finding I was craving the rush only a cigarette could give me for the first time in a long time. I hadn’t had one since the first day Deck walked in with the pink bundle of his newborn daughter in his arms, but right now, I would kill for one drag.

“Right, thanks, Pres. This is kind of hard for me to say because, quite frankly, I have no idea how to say it,” I said in a rush, making no fucking sense whatsoever, and if I were honest, I was deliberately stalling. Knowing Deck wasn’t going to like this, I consciously scanned the room for any possible threats. Booth had a tendency to throw objects, so I looked for anything that could do any damage if thrown at my head. Deck, however, just threw his fists. After last night’s sparring with Bryce, my body was obviously a bit on the sore side. I calculated in my head the distance between Deck, the door, and me. It was a fair ways from my seat, but I could make it if needed.

“Ford, say whatever the fuck you have to say. I have a bike waiting to paint, and then I have a date with my woman.” Creed growled from the seat beside me. Memphis was pregnant again, and even though she was only in the first trimester, Creed wanted her to have just as good a time as she did when she carried Zander. My road captain was completely devoted to his wife, and with her being blind, the man made sure her every need was catered to. Date night to him was high on that list.

I gave him a chin lift and cleared my throat. Righto, here we go. 

“The other day, I took Shiloh and Bastian to the park. You know the one with all the sand? Fucking hate it, but when Shiloh looked at me with those eyes of hers, and she pouted her bottom lip, I couldn’t say no to her—”

“Ford!” Deck shouted, stopping my babbling. His fists thumped down on the wood table, causing all the glasses and bottles to rattle.

“Right, sorry. Okay, so she said something that got me worried.”

“What did she say?” Booth asked quietly. My pres was a smart man and knew his men, our characteristics and tells, so even though my hand was on my lap, he could tell I was working my lighter. Flicking it on and off served two purposes for me—sometimes it calmed me, and other times, I did it when I was nervous. Today, the later was the reason for it.

“She mentioned that Darth talks to her. Has conversations with her. When I questioned her further about this, thinking she meant that she talks to him in her mind, she said he… he talks back to her. Watches Tour of Duty with her and sits on her bed after you and Charlotte put her to bed.” I looked right at Deck when I mentioned her bedtime.

“She what?” Steel whispered, shocked. The bottle of beer in his hand paused midway to his mouth.

“She also said that his ouch is all gone, that there was no blood on his shirt anymore, no gunshot wound.” I finished with the most disturbing part of the story. Shiloh had seen that wound, had seen it actually happen. Her clothes were covered in Darth’s blood when she flung her little body on him at the dance school that day. I wasn’t there, but I had seen her when Deck took her to the hospital to have her looked over before he rushed her and Charlotte to his parents’ place. That day, Deck was consumed with fear. He’d wanted them away from the danger, and it killed him to send them there, but Rogue proved no one was safe. Deck couldn’t risk another thing happening to them. Thankfully, Booth took care of our threat, but had it all been too little too late?

“Also—”

“There’s fucking more?” Mannix asked, incredulity accompanying his question. The shocked look on his face mirrored the one on Booth, Steel, and Creed’s faces. Deck had a look of desolation. My SAA was gutted, shattered from what he was hearing for the first time. His daughter was talking to a ghost, and he had been totally clueless.

“Yeah, um, late last night, Bryce and I heard Shiloh screaming. We were in the hallway just down from your door when we heard her.” As I explained, I noticed Bryce tense in his seat. To anyone else, they would think he was reacting to the fact that Shiloh screamed, but I knew better. Bryce was worried I was going to out us. What the fucking fuck? Was he still ashamed of us, of me? Had I read it all wrong? The kiss, the passion, the declaration that he cared about me? My heart started to ache with a familiar pain.

“And what happened, Ford—Bryce?” Deck asked anxiously, looking wildly between Bryce and me.

I was speechless, my brain couldn’t get the words to my mouth, so all I could do was look dumbfounded at the man across from me. The man who refused to look in my direction, guilt written all over his handsome face.

Bryce cleared his throat, making sure he kept his gaze on anyone but me, which made my heart sink even further.

“We ran into the room and found Shiloh cowering in the wardrobe. Once we coaxed her out, she admitted that she had nightmares, about the bad man and the car accident. She then did something that made my hairs stand on end. Ford’s, too.” Without waiting to be told to go on, Bryce dropped the biggest bombshell of all. “She spoke to Darth right in front of us, answered him, asked him a question, and even giggled at something he said,” Bryce said, then closed his eyes. His lips thinned into a grim line, obviously not intending to mention the part about Darth being happy for him and me making out but suggesting we didn’t do it in the hall.

“What did she laugh at?” Deck questioned.

“Nothing. It wasn’t important,” Bryce answered quickly, too quickly.

My heart dropped to the ground with a sickening thud. There it was then—I was nothing important. Not worth mentioning, not worth fighting for. Nothing. I narrowed my eyes, pissed off with the man who owned my heart and who now had just shattered it.

“Nothing at all, right, Bryce? Just bullshit, right?” I said with gritted teeth. Say something, you coward. Tell them you had your hands all over me, kissed me senseless, and told me I was the only one who got your cock hard, I taunted him in my head. It didn’t happen. He just sat there looking like a stunned mullet, not meeting my stare.

Deck, completely oblivious to the silent war raging between Bryce and me, got up from his seat.

“How the fuck did I not know about this? How have I missed the fact my baby girl is struggling? What kind of father am I?” I could feel the despair, the self-loathing Deck dumped on his own shoulders. For a minute, I forgot about my pain and focused on Deck.

“Mate, you can’t blame yourself for this. Shiloh is experiencing the same kind of PTSD anyone can when dealing with death and violence. She needs to talk to someone, a proper child therapist educated specifically in dealing with young kids,” I told him gently. No way in the fuck was Deck blaming himself for this. We had all thought that after Rogue was dealt with, all would return to normal. Absolutely no one could have predicted this.

“Ford is right, brother. This could not have been predicted. All you can do now is go talk to Charlotte about what you have learned and get her input. She has experience with kids as a teacher, so maybe she has a solution. No need to lay blame or to punish yourself, mate. Shiloh needs our help, and the club as a family will see that Squirt gets all the help she needs,” Booth said.

Deck nodded his head and left the room without another word. No doubt in a hurry to find his wife and daughter.

“Okay, this meeting is over for now. Let Deck get a handle on his emotions and talk to Teach. She will get his head back where it needs to be. Until then, let’s all keep an eye on Shiloh. If anyone sees her talking to herself, I don’t want anyone calling her attention to it. She is not to think what she is doing is wrong. If this is the way she is coping with Darth’s death, then so be it. So, until a professional, educated in the field of PTSD, tells us otherwise, she is to be left alone. Understood?” Booth commanded.

Everyone nodded in the affirmative. I agreed it would just be detrimental to Shiloh if any of us pulled her up for her behaviour.

“Ford, stay where you are. I need to talk to you alone, mate,” Booth said, stopping me as I started to get up from my seat and follow my brothers out of the war room.

I dropped my head to my chest and let out a long sigh. Deck and the others might have missed the tension between Bryce and me but not Booth. Fuck it.

 

***

 

“What’s up, Pres?” Stalling tactic? I considered it more self-preservation. The last place I wanted to be was under Booth’s microscope, not after the last ten minutes. Bryce had completely ignored me. The first test he faced being honest about us, and he practically turned and ran straight back to the closet. I thought of myself as a normal functioning member of this club. I rode a bike just like all the other members. I could do anything with a computer and kept the financial wheels turning for all the businesses. Hell, I was the number one go-to babysitter for Shiloh and all the babies. The fact I liked dick didn’t define me as different, not in my book. Bryce obviously had a different outlook.

“You tell me, brother. There was something unspoken during the meeting. The question being is it important in regard to Shiloh. Or does it have something to do with the panicked look on Bryce’s face when you mentioned the hallway, then Bryce telling us about Shiloh giggling at something Darth said to her.”

See! He saw everything! I was trapped by the all-seeing grey eyes of Vincent Booth.

I didn’t see any way out of the interrogation except the truth.

“Both,” I answered with a grunt.

“Both?”

I nodded my head. “Yeah. After our spar, Bryce chased me down. He said—well, it doesn’t matter what he said.” I sliced my hand through the air. “The point is we kissed, okay? Pawed at each other and really went to town. He does this thing with his tongue—”

“Ford! I would rather not know about Lucky’s tongue or how he uses it. Just stick to the pertaining facts.” The smirk on Booth’s face made me grin. Yeah, word vomit didn’t just affect the ladies of the club.

“Right, so we heard Shiloh scream. You heard how we found her, but what we didn’t tell you was that Darth, according to Shiloh, touched my head, then he told her to tell us that the hallway wasn’t the place for such activities, but he was really happy for us.” I let my voice trail off to a near whisper at the end. Booth wasn’t an idiot. He knew how I felt about Bryce, and during our deployments, he was aware that Bryce and I would sneak off for some alone time on the FOB. My sexuality wasn’t a problem for Booth or any of the others, but I still kept it under the radar. My business was exactly that—mine. Bryce, damn, fuck if I knew what was going through his head right now.

Booth stayed quiet while I spoke, not a hint on his face giving away what he was thinking. His eyes were glued to the small monitor in front of him. I knew without even looking that he had located his wife. Booth’s obsession with Stella’s safety had reached legendary status since she gave birth to little Gabe. She had come close to dying that day—again. He traced his finger over the screen for a brief second, then dragged his eyes from the screen. A haunted look was in them, which used to be there all the time before Stella. I was about to ask him what was wrong, but he beat me to it.

“When they kicked me out of the OR, Stella was on the brink of dying. She haemorrhaged, badly, and both she and my son were going to die. There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to lose my wife forever.” Booth sucked in a shallow breath, his eyes returning to the screen once again. A smile of sheer happiness chased away the dark cloud, almost like magic. I deduced that Stella and baby Gabe were behind the transformation.

“I dropped to my knees and prayed harder than I have ever prayed. I asked Darth to help them, begged him to send her back to me, not to let my son die. I heard him, Ford. The lights above me flickered on and off, and then I heard Darth promise that everything was going to be okay. He was looking after them, and they would be all right.”

I sucked in a breath, not trusting my voice. The hairs on my arms stood up, and for the second time since the night before, I felt a cold shiver run through me.

“You heard his voice?”

“Yep, right there in the hospital hallway on my knees. Darth spoke to me just as you are now. So I believe Shiloh is seeing and talking to our fallen brother. I believe Darth is keeping his promise to the little girl who meant more to him than any other person—well, there was one more.”

I nodded, knowing he meant Vegas. The club had dealt with so much loss and death it was a wonder any of us functioned normally, let alone a four, nearly five-year-old.

“Darth saved my family, which saved me. If he is talking to Shiloh, letting her see him, I have to believe he is doing it for a reason. We dealt with unspeakable atrocities in the military, Ford, things no human should ever see or do. A little girl, who witnessed the most important man in her life apart from her father get shot talking to his ghost isn’t that bad in the grand scheme of things.” Booth’s words hit me dead centre. He was right. Shiloh was happy, and her life was filled with people who adored and doted on her. If Darth was letting himself be seen and heard by her, he had his reasons. And I had to trust that Shiloh understood them, too.

I looked at my watch and mumbled a curse. I had a full day of computer work ahead of me, and then I was babysitting Zander while Creed and Memphis went out on their date night. Keeping myself busy was the best way to keep my mind off my problems with Bryce—if I even had any problems with Bryce. Maybe he was the one with the problem. Whichever case it was, I didn’t want to think about it any longer. For today, I was going to concentrate on the financial reports that were awaiting my attention, then some bro time with big man Zander.

“Gotta get moving, Booth. We good here?”

“Yeah, I better get going myself. I have to take Stella into town. Apparently, my boy is growing too fast and needs pants and something called a doorway jumper,” Booth grumbled good-naturedly. He didn’t fool me, though. The man would give them anything Stells asked for.

I laughed as we made our way towards the door.

“It’s a swing that attaches to the top of a door. The kid bounces in it, and it keeps them entertained and confined so they can’t get into mischief. It also helps strengthens their leg muscles,” I answered easily.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“Who do you think the women come to for babysitting,” I said drolly and rolled my eyes. I pretended it annoyed me, but really, I loved looking after the kids. My time with them meant the world to me. I was probably not going to ever have kids of my own, and I was okay with that. There was plenty of opportunities for me to get in some baby time, plus Shiloh was always with me when not with her parents.

“Ford.”

I stopped and turned to look at Booth. “Yeah, brother?”

“I know you have things worked out for the most part with who you are and how you want to live your life. Bryce is having trouble figuring out his path. Slow down, and let him catch up, mate. Knowing who you are is one thing, but how to live it is a whole other story.” With a hard thump to my back, Booth moved past me and out the door.

My mouth gaped opened after hearing the words Booth just said. Jesus, fuck me. Suddenly, my attention and mind were firmly back on the man I loved. So much for my resolve only minutes before to stop thinking about Bryce.

Fucking Booth.