A few days had passed, Dax had finally caught up on all the overdue paperwork, which meant he was back on the shop floor, getting his hands dirty alongside the crew instead of being buried in invoices.

Ace was back to her old habit.

Every morning, before Dax got to his tools, he'd find a small, folded note tucked inside his toolbox. Some were teasing, some were actual work reminders, and some were just pure chaos.

Today, he unfolded the note, leaning against the Supra as he read it.

Carter, if you lose another 10mm socket, I'm revoking your right to tools. I don't care if you own the garage. I will confiscate your wrenches. With love, Ace.

Dax smirked, shaking his head. Damn woman was impossible.

He glanced over toward Ace's bay, where she was working on a customer's turbo setup, pretending she wasn't keeping an eye on him. She knew he'd find the note. And she knew he'd never admit how much he liked them.

The day rolled on as usual, filled with engine tuning, oil-stained hands, and Jinx and Rev arguing over torque specs.

It was just another normal day. Until it wasn't.

A low, familiar growl of an engine pulled into the parking lot. A bike. Not just any bike. Erin recognised it immediately, and so did Dax.

Ghost. The second he rolled to a stop, cutting the engine, the garage went dead silent.

Rev and Jinx exchanged glances. Carmen, working near the back, stood up straighter, watching carefully.

Dax just exhaled, set his wrench down, and waited.

Ghost swung his leg off the bike, pulled off his helmet, and looked around at the crew. Then, with that same unreadable smirk, he met Erin's gaze. "Didn't think I'd stay gone forever, did you?"

The garage was dead silent as Ghost casually set his helmet on the seat of his bike, his signature smirk still in place.

Erin could feel the tension rolling off Dax like a heatwave.

Rev and Jinx weren't as open about it, but she knew they were just as wary.

Carmen read the room immediately. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna head back to my workshop," she announced, already wiping her hands on a rag. "Got a few paint jobs waiting." It was an excuse. A good one. Because Carmen didn't do unnecessary drama. She gave Erin a quick glance, something that almost felt like a warning, before grabbing her bag and heading toward her car.

Which left the rest of them standing in the middle of the garage, waiting to see who would make the first move.

Dax wasn't moving.

Neither was Ghost.

Rev and Jinx stood off to the side, watching the standoff like it was the beginning of a fight they weren't sure they'd have to break up.

Finally, Erin stepped forward, breaking the deadlock. "What do you want, Ghost?" she asked, arms crossed.

Ghost tilted his head. "That's a loaded question."

Dax exhaled slowly, crossing his arms. "Cut the shit, Hale. You've been popping in and out like a bad habit. What are you actually here for?"

Ghost's smirk didn't waver. "Who says I need a reason? Maybe I just missed you all."

Jinx snorted. "Yeah, sure. I'm not buying that."

Rev, still leaning against the workbench, added, "You're not the type to waste time on small talk. So either say what you came to say, or keep it moving."

Ghost's eyes flicked toward Erin. "I actually came to talk to her."

Dax's jaw tightened. "Yeah? About what?"

Ghost smiled. "That's between us."

Dax let out a sharp breath, clearly barely holding onto his patience. "Nah. You don't get to pull that mysterious bullshit here."

Erin felt her stomach twist. This wasn't going to go anywhere.

Ghost wouldn't say anything while Dax was around.

And Dax wasn't going to step aside.

So Erin did something she knew Dax wouldn't like. She made a decision. She stepped forward and grabbed Ghost's helmet off the bike.

Dax's expression shifted instantly. "Ace."

She ignored the warning in his voice. "I'll be back."

Dax took a slow step forward, voice lowering. "Don't do this."

Ghost's smirk widened. "Smart choice, Calloway."

Erin swung a leg over the bike, helmet in hand, fastening the strap as Ghost climbed back on in front of her.

Dax's hands curled into fists. "Erin."

She finally looked at him. "I have to, Dax." She meant it. She needed answers. Even if it meant ignoring every instinct telling her this was a bad idea.

Ghost revved the engine, the deep growl of the bike echoing through the garage.

Dax's voice dropped even lower, frustration and warning tangled in every word. "You really wanna find out the hard way?"

Erin swallowed. Then gave him one last look. "Maybe."

Then Ghost twisted the throttle, and they were gone.

The tyres kicked up dust, the roar of the bike fading as they disappeared down the street.

Dax stood there, fists clenched, jaw locked.

Rev exhaled, rubbing his face. "Well... shit."

Jinx sighed. "Carter, man, say something before we assume you're about to murder somebody."

Dax's voice was low, sharp. "I'm not mad at her."

Rev raised an eyebrow. "That so?"

Dax's jaw flexed. "I'm mad at him."

Jinx nodded. "Yeah, that makes more sense."

Rev crossed his arms. "So, what's the move?"

Dax exhaled, eyes still locked on the empty road. "We wait."

Jinx frowned. "For what?"

Dax's eyes narrowed slightly. "For her to realise she just made the worst call of her life." And with that, he turned and walked inside.

The garage felt emptier. The silence heavier. And the storm was only just starting.

The night air was crisp, rushing past Erin as she held onto Ghost's jacket, her mind racing even faster than the bike beneath them. She knew she shouldn't have left like that. She could still see the look in Dax's eyes, the way his fists had clenched, the way his voice had dropped just enough to warn her. But she had to do this. Even if she didn't know why yet.

Ghost took a few turns, weaving through the city streets, moving fast but not reckless, as if he had a destination in mind.

Except... He didn't. Because after ten minutes of riding, they weren't heading anywhere familiar. No underground meet spots. No backroads she knew. They were heading somewhere else. Somewhere isolated.

And that's when Erin felt the first flicker of doubt. She tightened her grip on Ghost's jacket slightly, leaning in. "Where are we going?"

"Someplace quiet," he said, voice calm, controlled.

"That's not an answer, Hale."

Ghost let out a soft chuckle. "You're starting to sound like Carter."

Erin scowled, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

The city lights blurred past as Ghost weaved through the streets, taking turns that Erin didn't recognise. It wasn't a race, but it wasn't a slow ride either.

She had no idea where they were going, and Ghost wasn't offering explanations. She should've been worried. But instead, she was focused. Focused on whatever he had to say, whatever had made him drag her away from the garage, away from Dax, away from the comfort of familiarity.

And then, they pulled in. Not to an abandoned road. Not to a hidden racing spot. But to a biker hangout.

The place was older, worn, tucked away in an industrial strip, but still alive, a handful of bikes parked outside, music playing from somewhere inside, low conversations carrying across the lot. It wasn't just a bar. It was neutral ground. A place where loyalty wasn't tied to one crew or another.

Ghost killed the engine, and Erin swung her leg off the bike, pulling off the helmet as she took it all in. "This where you've been spending your time?" she asked, scanning the crowd.

Ghost smirked slightly. "Now and then. It's quiet enough."

She turned to him. "Then why bring me here?"

Ghost didn't answer immediately. Instead, he motioned toward an empty table outside, away from the others. A more private spot.

Erin hesitated for a second before following.

They sat.

For a few moments, Ghost just watched her. Then, finally, he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out his old phone. "Figured you should see these," he said simply, tapping the screen a few times before sliding it across the table.

Erin's stomach tightened when she saw what was staring back at her.

Photos. Old ones. Jamie's crew. Back in the UK.

Her heart stuttered as she slowly scrolled through them.

Jamie, grinning next to his Skyline, arm slung over someone's shoulder. Ethan was in a few of them, looking younger, but still exactly like she remembered.

And Ghost was in a couple. Leaning against a black R1 bike, standing next to Jamie and another guy she didn't recognise.

Erin paused, staring at the other faces. "Who are they?" she asked.

Ghost's expression didn't change. "People who mattered. Back then."

Erin glanced up. "But not now?"

Ghost exhaled. "Depends on how you look at it."

She frowned, going back to the photos. There were more names, more faces she didn't recognise. More history that she'd never been told. Finally, she slid the phone back toward him. "Why are you showing me this now?"

Ghost leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Because no one else did."

Erin exhaled sharply. "That's not an answer, Hale."

"No?" He tilted his head. "Then ask yourself why you never saw them before."

She clenched her jaw. "Maybe because no one thought I needed to."

Ghost smirked. "And maybe you should've been given the choice."

That hit a little too close to home.

Deep down, he wasn't wrong.

She had spent years chasing pieces of Jamie's life, only to realise there were parts of it she never even knew existed.

Ghost watched her carefully. "You still think you've got the whole story?"

Erin swallowed. "No."

Ghost nodded. "Good. Because you don't."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken things.

Finally, Erin exhaled, sitting back. "So, what now? You keep dropping breadcrumbs and expect me to follow?"

Ghost chuckled. "You're already following, Calloway. You just don't want to admit it."

And she hated that he was right.

The biker hangout buzzed around them; voices, laughter, the occasional rev of an engine, but Erin barely noticed.

Her fingers rested against the table, her mind turning over everything Ghost had just shown her.

The photos. The faces she didn't recognise. The pieces of Jamie's world that she was never part of.

She met Ghost's gaze again. "So tell me, Hale, how exactly do you fit into all this?"

Ghost smirked slightly. "I was just a guy who happened to be around at the right time."

Erin scoffed. "Bullshit."

Ghost leaned back, expression unreadable. "I wasn't his best friend, Calloway. That was Ethan. But Jamie and I? We understood each other."

She narrowed her eyes. "Understood how?"

Ghost exhaled through his nose, tapping his fingers against the table before speaking. "We were both good at one thing, going too fast and not giving a shit about the consequences."

Erin stiffened slightly. She didn't like hearing that.

Jamie had never been reckless. He was calculated. Precise.

Ghost must've read her expression, because he chuckled lowly. "Yeah, I figured you wouldn't like that answer. But it's the truth."

Erin folded her arms, pushing back against the unease settling in her stomach. "And what about you? What made you go for two wheels instead of four? You were part of the same scene. You were in those photos. So what changed?"

Ghost's expression shifted, just slightly. He glanced at his bike parked nearby, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. "Cars never felt fast enough," he finally said.

Erin frowned. "What does that even mean?"

Ghost gave her a look. "It means I liked the feeling of knowing I could hit 160 on a stretch of road and if I made one wrong move, I'd be gone. No steel frame. No cage. Just you, the machine, and the road."

Erin inhaled slowly. That... didn't sit right. "That sounds like you were looking for ways to crash, not ways to win."

Ghost smirked, but there was no humour in it. "Maybe. Or maybe I just didn't care either way."

The weight of that hung between them.

Erin stared at him, searching his face for anything that would give her more.

But Ghost was as closed off as ever.

Finally, she sighed, shaking her head. "You ever just give a straight answer?"

Ghost chuckled. "Where's the fun in that?"

She exhaled sharply, sitting back. "So what now? You drop some vague truth bombs and then disappear again?"

Ghost tilted his head. "That depends."

"On what?"

His gaze locked onto hers. "On how much you really want to know."

Erin's patience snapped.

Ghost had always been like this, half-truths, smirks, dodged questions.

This wasn't a game. This wasn't some mystery for her to unravel at his pace. This was her brother. Her family.

And Ghost was sitting across from her, holding onto pieces of Jamie's life like they were his to keep.

She leaned forward, jaw tight, voice low. "You're wasting my time, Hale."

Ghost's smirk didn't fade, but she saw the flicker of something behind his eyes. "Am I?"

Erin clenched her fists on the table. "Jamie was my brother. If you know something, if you've got answers, you don't get to sit there and decide how much I deserve to know."

Ghost exhaled through his nose, glancing away for a second before his eyes flicked back to hers. "You think you want the whole truth, but you don't."

Erin's stomach tightened. Because the way he said it in that low, matter-of-fact way, like a warning made her uneasy. But she refused to back down. "Try me."

Ghost didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't give her anything.

And that was it.

She shoved back her chair, standing up. "Take me home. Now."

Ghost sighed, running a hand over his jaw before standing up, but he didn't argue. He just grabbed his helmet, tossed it to her, and muttered, "Suit yourself, Calloway."

Erin didn't respond. Didn't say another word. She just climbed onto the back of the bike, heart pounding with frustration, knowing full well that Ghost had just confirmed what she already feared. He knew more than he was telling her. The worst part being she had no idea if she'd ever get the truth out of him.