Free Old Ghosts: Gypsy Riders MC by Honey Palomino Page A

motivation and energy, and the air around you will be filled with joy. You will bask in serenity and calmness, child.”
    She saw the relief on my face, and laughed a loud, cackling laugh.
    “Oh, don’t worry, child. Everyone has to go through a thunderstorm every now and then. But I am confident you will make it through, pretty one. Now, there’s just one more thing…” Her voice trailed off as she put the cards away and looked at me intently, her sharp blue eyes peering into mine deeply.
    “What does the number twelve mean to you?” she asked.
    “Um…nothing,” I replied, shaking my head.
    “No? Are you sure?” She stared at me, contemplating my silence before she squinted her eyes and continued. “It will mean something quite significant to you in a very short time,” she said, not breaking my gaze.
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    “I’m not sure. I see the number twelve. I see fire. An explosion. I’m not sure exactly, but something about the number twelve will be very important to you.” She shook her head and her eyes squinted. “No, it’s not safe. It’s something dark, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
    “Um…okay,” I said. My goodness! What the fuck was she talking about?
    Mike’s laughter broke the spell.
    “Well, that sounds awful!” he said with a laugh, reminding me that none of this was to be taken seriously. I shrugged off her ominous warning, and smiling politely, I stood up and thanked her.
    “Well, thank you, ma’am. I appreciate your time,” I said, as Mike pulled a huge wad of cash from his wallet and handed a hundred dollar bill to her, twice what the sign said.
    Lady Sylvia looked at us without smiling, nodded gravely, and tucked the money into her bra.
    “Remember child, after the darkness comes the sun.”
    “Yes, ma’am…thank you,” I muttered as I turned away.
    Mike grabbed my hand and we walked away. We both waited until we were outside of earshot before we burst out laughing.
    “Holy shit, Daisy. Sounds like you’ve got a juicy past.”
    I hit him lightly in the arm.
    “Oh, please. I’m sure it’s not any juicier than your own,” I said.
    “Well, whatever it is,” he said, his expression turning serious. “I hope you know you can talk to me about it anytime, if you want.”
    I gazed up into his kind eyes and smiled.
    “Thank you,” I said quietly. “I will.”
    He leaned down, planting another quick kiss on my lips before we began walking back the way we came down the boardwalk.
    “Let’s get that drink, shall we?”
    “Yes, that sounds great!”
    “I know a place not far from my house that I think you’ll love,” he said, as we walked back to his bike.
    I banished all thoughts of the old woman’s premonitions from my mind, not wanting to invite anything dark into my life. Even still, as I found myself on the back of Mike’s bike again as we drove to the bar, a little seed of fear planted itself in the back of my consciousness, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t shake it.
    When we pulled up to a tavern off Highway 101, I took a look around. It was rugged and a little run down, but as soon as I saw the beach behind it I fell in love instantly.
    Once again leaving our helmets on the bike, we wandered in and found a booth to sit in. Mike went to the bar to order after asking what I wanted. When he returned, he did so with his most charming smile and two cold, bottled beers.
    The tavern wasn’t too crowded, but there were a few dozen people there. Some playing pool, some sitting at the bar and a few couples scattered around in different booths having drinks and dinner.
    “So, tell me more about Mineola,” he said, his smile relentlessly melting my insides.
    “Oh, there’s not much to tell, really. Like I said, it’s a small town with a small town attitude. Not much happens. At least not much that anyone talks about,” I said.
    “Yeah? I can see that. I’d imagine a lot gets hidden behind closed doors in a town like that,” he