Chapter 5: Old Flames Never Die

EMILIA POV

The smell of burnt rubber and gunpowder lingered outside the clubhouse long after the Reapers disappeared.

Club members worked silently, repairing damaged motorcycles and replacing shattered windows.

No one complained.

This was life inside an outlaw motorcycle club.

Violence wasn't unexpected.

It was inevitable.

I stood on the clubhouse porch watching Ghost supervise the cleanup.

His calmness amazed me.

Minutes earlier, bullets had been flying.

Now he looked as composed as if nothing had happened.

"You shouldn't be standing out here."

His deep voice interrupted my thoughts.

"I'm fine," I replied.

"You're lucky."

"The next attack might not miss."

I folded my arms across my chest.

"You always did like giving orders."

A faint smile appeared on his lips.

"Only when it comes to you."

I rolled my eyes.

"Still impossible."

"Still stubborn."

For the first time since coming home, we actually smiled at each other.

The moment didn't last.

"Ghost!"

Marco called from the garage.

"Come here."

Ghost looked at me.

"Stay inside."

"I'm serious."

"Yes, Dad," I teased.

He sighed dramatically.

"One day you'll listen."

"Don't hold your breath."

As he walked away, Mama C stepped beside me carrying two mugs of coffee.

"He's still in love with you," she said casually.

I nearly choked on my coffee.

"Mama C..."

"Don't pretend you can't see it."

"Everyone can."

"Except Marco."

"Your brother would rather wrestle a bear than admit those two belong together."

I stared at Ghost across the yard.

He laughed at something another biker said.

It was strange seeing him smile.

I'd forgotten how handsome he looked when he did.

"He left," I whispered.

"Without a goodbye."

"There had to be a reason."

"Then why never tell me?"

Mama C gently squeezed my hand.

"Sometimes people carry burdens they think will destroy the ones they love."

"Give him a chance to explain."

That evening the clubhouse slowly settled into uneasy silence.

Marco left with several officers to inspect one of the club's warehouses.

Ghost remained behind to watch over me.

I found him alone in the garage repairing my father's old Harley.

"You're fixing it?" I asked.

"It deserves to stay on the road."

"Dad would've liked that."

Ghost nodded.

"He taught me everything I know about bikes."

I leaned against the workbench.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"No lies."

"I won't lie."

"Six years ago..."

"Why did you leave?"

Ghost stopped working.

For a long moment, he simply stared at the engine.

Finally, he exhaled.

"The night before I disappeared..."

"Your father called me into his office."

I frowned.

"Dad?"

"He knew about us."

My heart skipped.

"Us?"

"He knew we were in love."

"What did he say?"

"He gave me two choices."

"Either leave Desert Ridge..."

"Or stay and watch you lose everything because of me."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"What are you talking about?"

"Back then I was reckless."

"I was fighting for money."

"Running guns."

"Taking jobs from dangerous people."

"Your father knew enemies would eventually come after me."

"He refused to let you become collateral damage."

"So he made you leave?"

"No."

"He asked me to."

"And because I respected him..."

"Because I loved you..."

"I walked away."

My chest tightened painfully.

"You should've told me."

"I wanted to."

"I wrote dozens of letters."

"I never mailed them."

"Why?"

"Because every time I thought about contacting you..."

"I'd remember your father's words."

"If you truly love her..."

"Let her have a life without blood."

Tears filled my eyes.

"He never told me."

"I asked him why you disappeared."

"He only said you'd made your choice."

"He was protecting you."

"So were you."

"It still hurt."

"I know."

Ghost slowly stepped closer.

"There hasn't been a single day..."

"Not one..."

"That I didn't regret leaving."

"I tried forgetting you."

"I couldn't."

"Every city I worked in..."

"Every woman who tried getting close..."

"They weren't you."

"There will only ever be you."

The garage suddenly felt much smaller.

Much warmer.

He reached out slowly.

His rough fingers gently brushed a strand of hair away from my face.

"Emilia..."

"If I could go back..."

"I'd choose differently."

"Would you?"

"Every single time."

I looked into his storm-gray eyes.

All the anger I'd carried for six years suddenly felt fragile.

Not gone.

But no longer impossible to carry.

"You still owe me six years," I whispered.

A faint smile touched his lips.

"Then I'll spend the rest of my life paying them back."

Before I could answer, footsteps echoed outside.

"Ghost!"

One of the younger Serpents burst into the garage.

"We found something."

"What?"

"One of the dead Reapers had this in his pocket."

He handed Ghost a folded photograph.

Ghost unfolded it.

His expression immediately darkened.

"What is it?" I asked.

Without speaking, he handed me the picture.

My blood ran cold.

It was a recent photograph of me.

Standing outside Sofia's apartment in the city.

Someone had been watching me.

Long before I'd returned home.

On the back of the photograph, three words were written in black ink.

"Bring her alive."

Ghost's jaw tightened.

"This wasn't about your father," he said quietly.

"Emilia..."

"The Reapers were hunting you all along."