Jupiter's MC Book 1: Ghost

Have you ever wondered- What if? What if you lived a different life and made different choices? Who would you be if you lived a completely different life?

I think about this daily as I let my mind wander as my feet pound the pavement. The rich green and brown landscape steadily passes me by. The only thing keeping me grounded is the burning in my lungs and the steady beat reverberating through my earphones.

Many choices I made in the past have led me to question who I am as a person, but one stands out more than the others.

I have been in love with the same guy since I was fifteen, and I may as well be invisible to him. He has only ever seen me as a child, and even though I am far from a child anymore, I can’t help but wonder if he still views me as such.

What if we hadn’t met when I was so young? What if we met later when I was an adult? Would he give me the time of day then? Would I even like him?

The questions swirl in my head, and before I know it, my run is coming to an end as the large, gated compound comes into view at the end of the trail.

I reach the open gates and make my way toward the front door of the clubhouse, sighing in relief at the promise of a nice, hot shower and a hearty breakfast.

As I pass the main room heading toward the stairs, a chorus of greetings meets me. The mere sound sends warmth that, even after all these years, still hasn’t gotten old.

For a long time, the only person I could rely on was my older brother. Axel practically raised me after our parents passed away when I was ten. He joined Jupiter’s MC when I was about fourteen, and as a dependent, I was allowed to stay in the club.

However, I am not technically a member of the club, and in saying that, I am not allowed to participate in certain club events. Training is one example. I wish I could train with the brothers...

I have asked several times over the years, but each time, I was denied as it was deemed too dangerous. I have heard many horror stories of the gruelling training the brothers go through, but I guess that’s the price to pay for strength and skill.

I have been offered basic self-defence training, which I would have taken in a second...

However, the trainer is the one person I wish to avoid for all eternity.

Ghost is the object of my every dream, nightmare and desire. When Axel first joined Jupiter’s MC, I was frightened of Ghost. He was terrifying with his dark hair and permanent scowl. But that fear soon turned into curiosity, and it eventually led to something much deeper.

I try not to stare at him, but it’s like my gaze magnetises toward him whenever he’s around. Back in my room, I absentmindedly turn on the shower and let the steaming water droplets hit my sore muscles. A sense of pure relief flows through me as the warmth spreads through my veins, soothing my aching body.

As much as I want to soak, I need to head to the kitchen to help Holly prepare breakfast.

Holly is amazing. She runs the clubhouse, making sure everyone is fed, laundry gets done, and the house doesn’t get too dirty.

She’s the embodiment of the perfect mom, and she is probably my favourite person in the entire club because even though she is the sweetest person on earth, she can kick ass and keeps all the brothers in line.

Breakfast passes by swiftly, and the brothers come and go on their way to or from training. I try to help Holly clean up, but she shoos me out the door so I can head to work.

As I make my way to my truck, Tim, the local delivery man, stops his van beside me. “Good morning, Clarissa. I have a package for you.”

Tim quickly passes me a package before turning the van around and driving off the compound. I wave as he disappears around the corner with screeching tyres. I swear that man never slows down for anyone.

My attention falls back on the package in my hands. I haven’t ordered anything recently, so I’m curious to know what it is.

I hop in my truck and reach for the pocket knife I keep in my glove box. I open the box but I don’t understand what I’m seeing.

It’s full of pictures. Pictures of me.

Pictures of me running the trail behind the clubhouse. Walking in town. Driving my truck. Working at the front desk at the gym.

I’ve seen some of these before. Every few months, I’ll get a text message with a new picture of me. The messages always come from an unknown number, and I just blow them off. I always thought it was one of my friends pranking me.

But there must be close to a hundred pictures here, and I know it’s more than a prank.

As I rifle through the box, my hand brushes a scrap of fabric at the bottom; my blood runs cold. Under the pictures is a pair of my underwear, a pair I have seen recently either.

Tremors invade my body as the edges of my vision blur. My stomach contracts with the need to throw up my breakfast.

I don’t know how long I’m sitting in my truck when there’s a gentle tap on the window. I jump at the sound, releasing a small squeal at the sudden intrusion. I turn to meet the concerned and familiar gaze of my brother.

I glance down at the package still in my lap. I know there is no way to hide this from him any longer.