“Well, where is she?”
“She’s with Crash.”
“Crash?”
“Um-hmm,” he replied and watched as a thoughtful expression formed on his wife’s face. He took another gulp of milk and asked, “What’s that look?”
Her beautiful green eyes came to him. “What look?”
“That look.”
She shrugged. “It could work, that’s all.”
“What could work?” He frowned and took another gulp of milk.
“The two of them.”
Cole about spewed the milk. “In what universe could those two work?”
“Cole.” She rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. He grabbed her hand, pulling her back.
“No, no. This I’ve got to hear.”
“He’s grounded. Nothing shakes Crash. He’s rock solid.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, I think she needs someone like that. Her drama won’t fly with him.”
“I’ve got news for you, baby. It won’t fly with most men.”
“Yes, but Crash won’t let it phase him. She could throw a tantrum, and he’d just smile and shake his head.”
Cole didn’t say anything, thinking over the points she was making.
“Am I right?” she pressed.
“Maybe,” he half-heartedly agreed, mostly because he didn’t want to admit she was right.
“And if she’s not as tough as you think she is, if deep-down she’s more the scared little girl I think she is, he’s going to make her feel safe.”
“That is why she came to us, to feel safe.”
“They’re going to be together twenty-four-seven. She’s going to start to trust him, to depend on him. That’s going to affect her, whether she wants it to or not.”
“What are we talking about here, some kind of hero-worship complex?”
“Maybe.”
“Christ, when did I marry a psychologist?”
“You didn’t.”
“Right. I didn’t. So, let’s leave the psycho-analysis to the professionals.” Cole downed the rest of her milk, and then, almost as if he couldn’t get what she’d said out of his head, he murmured, “Shit, I’d hate for either of them to get hurt.”
“Are you worried about Shannon or Crash?”
“Both.”
“Maybe he needs someone to shake him up a little,” she said with a sly grin.
“Fuck.”
“What? Am I wrong?”
“Shut up, and kiss me, woman.”
*****
Shannon lie staring up at the skylights high up in the ceiling. She could see a sliver of the moon through one of them. Her eyes fell to the posts of the enormous antique bed she was lying in. It was a beautiful bed. King size and super comfortable. She could hear the sound of an occasional car driving past, but other than that it was quiet. Crash was sleeping. She could hear his slumbered breathing.
Rolling to her side, she inhaled and breathed in his scent, still lingering on his pillow. The same earthy, manly scent she’d breathed in when she fell against him in the elevator. She thought about all the things that led her to be here, lying in his bed. The bed of a biker she barely knew. She’d given up her car, her phone, her belongings, her friends, even her family, all to hide out from Nicklaus William Ralston III.
He was nothing like what Cole and Crash thought him to be. They didn’t have a clue who they were dealing with, and she was determined to make sure they didn’t find out. Not if she could help it. They thought he was some young guy, the rich son of someone in her social circle, maybe even someone she’d met in college. When in actuality he was a major business mogul, an associate of her father’s. A man far wealthier than her father and much more powerful. Why he’d set his sights on her, she couldn’t be sure. She’d only met him once, briefly at her father’s office before he began his relentless pursuit of her. He’d taken one look at her and became infatuated, determined to make her his at whatever the cost.
She remembered that day. She’d shown up at her father’s office to hopefully talk him into going to lunch with her. She’d planned to wile her way into getting him to let her use the beach house for the summer. Instead, she’d breezed past his secretary and walked in on a meeting between the two men.
On first sight, she’d actually been attracted to Nicklaus. Very attracted. He was good looking, in a blonde, British sort of way. He wore the best suits money could buy, and he wore them well. He was a commanding figure.
She remembered the first time his green eyes met hers. She’d actually been struck dumb. She just stood there, staring back at him as if there was no one else in the room. She’d forgotten about why she’d come to see her father, she’d forgotten he was even in the room.
And then Nicklaus had smiled that sexy smile of his and risen to his feet and poured on the charm. He’d taken her hand and kissed it, actually bowing over it as he introduced himself. And then somehow she’d ended up lunching with him and not her father, forgetting completely about the beach house and why she’d ever want to leave town in the first place when Nicklaus was right here.
At first, he’d seemed to be everything she’d ever wanted. He was handsome, well-dressed, well-mannered, well-educated, well-traveled and wealthy. And it was all rolled-up with a British accent. She was all the things he was looking for, he’d told her. She was beautiful, poised, classy, and smart. She had an appreciation for fine arts and could hold her own with his friends and associates. He’d wined and dined her. To top it all off, he seemed crazy about her. Unfortunately, Shannon would soon discover that crazy was the definitive word.
As their relationship progressed, the kid-gloves came off. He began to subtly criticize her in public in a very passive-aggressive sort of way. He played a psychological game with her, and he played it well, soon coming to make her doubt herself and her every decision, whether it was what she was wearing or what she ordered for dinner. Then he began to try to take control of making those decisions for her. He would select her dress. He would order for her. He would decide what days she could see her friends and what in his words ‘was best for her’. Shannon had come to see just how manipulative he could be. For Nicklaus, she came to understand it was all about control. He demanded it, in all things.
When she tried to break it off with him, she soon realized the lengths to which he was willing to go to get what he wanted. And he made it clear, what he wanted was her.
She’d tried to talk to her father about it, to get his help in trying to extract Nicklaus from her life, a life to which he’d tried to become more and more ingrained every day. Her father had been no help, rather he’d told her she was being silly and to stop her nonsense and that she shouldn’t let the best man she’d ever find get away. Nicklaus had certainly won over her father. And then there’d come the night where she’d found out just how entwined they’d become.
She’d overheard a meeting between her father and Nicklaus. Standing outside the door, she’d heard the whole thing…
“Shannon’s part of the deal.”
“What?”
“Shannon is part of the deal. I want her, and I get what I want. Make it happen.”
“Nicklaus, I can’t make my daughter fall in love with you.”
“I’m not particularly concerned if your lovely daughter loves me. It would be helpful, but it isn’t a requirement. Frankly, if she suddenly professed her love for me, I would find that highly suspicious.”
“So, what do you expect me to do, sing your praises?”
“Eliminate her options. Cut off her funds. Remove her protection. In short, take away my roadblocks.”
“Nicklaus, she’s my daughter, I-”
“Put your mind at ease, Thomas. I shall be very good to her. She will be treated like nothing less than the little princess she is.”
“Perhaps her sister, Shelby, would be more receptive to-”
“Yes, well, unfortunately it isn’t Shelby that I want. I want Shannon. Shannon has spirit.
Shelby, well, I would break Shelby’s spirit in a week. No, I’m afraid I’m looking for a bit more of a challenge, old chap.”
“But, Nicklaus-”
“Have I not been clear? Without Shannon, there is no deal. And without the deal, you, my fine chap, are as you Americans put it ‘screwed’. We both know it. You need this merger. I know it. You know it. And if you need a bit more incentive, I have some information regarding your use of insider information pertaining to my company, that I am sure your Securities Exchange Commission would find very interesting indeed. Insider-trading, I believe you Americans call it. A very serious offense, I’m told. You could serve years in federal prison.”
“All right, Nicklaus. You’ve made your point.”
“I’ll stop at nothing to make her mine. Completely. Absolutely. Undeniably. Mine! And nothing and no one is going to get in my way. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
Shannon had fled to her room. Not wanting to hear anymore.
And now, here she was, hiding out with an MC. How pathetic was that? How had her life ever gotten to this point? She caught a sob in her throat, not wanting to awaken Crash, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next morning, Crash was lying on the couch, barely awake. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but he knew it was morning. He could feel the sun streaming in from the skylights up above. A moment later he heard the rumble of motorcycles out on the street. They grew closer. He listened to the sound of their pipes and counted them. One, two, three bikes rolled to a stop outside. Fucking hell.
A moment later, his cell went off, not surprisingly. He put it to his ear. “Yeah.”
“Get up, fucker. And let us in the Batcave,” Red Dog’s voice boomed in his ear before he disconnected.
Crash threw the phone on the coffee table and sat up. He ran his hand over his face, squinting at the early morning light. Christ, it was too early to deal with these jokers. He got up, walked over to the security pad on the wall near the elevator and punched in a code. He heard the steel garage door downstairs start to roll up. Obviously, Cole wasn’t with them or they wouldn’t have had to call him to get in. Cole was the only person who had the security code to gain access to his building. Something that, thankfully, he didn’t abuse. Crash sent the elevator down to the first level as he heard the sounds of their bikes rolling inside and the door rolling back down. Then, yawning, he ran a hand down his chest, and moved toward the kitchen.
He was standing in the open door of the refrigerator, gulping down some orange juice straight out of the carton, when the elevator came up. The gate crashed open, and Red Dog, Green and Wolf poured out.
Great.
Crash glared at Dog, wondering what the hell he’d brought these two along for. Dog shrugged his shoulders and explained, “They heard about her. Words out, man.”
“Mack doesn’t know, does he?”
“Naw. Surprised Cole let these two yahoos in on it. Swore ‘em to secrecy, so you’re all good.”
Green was carrying Shannon’s bag. He set it down, glancing around, his eyes especially traveling to the chain divider. “Where is she?” Crash knew with the sun streaming in from overhead and sparkling off the silver chains that his brothers couldn’t see shit, but it still irked him.
“In my bed, fucker. What’s it to ya?” Crash slammed the refrigerator door and saw Green’s eyes sweep down his body taking in the fact that he was barely dressed.
Green grinned, “You tap that?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Crash snapped back.
Wolf strolled over to the sectional and plopped down. His eyes straying to the pillow and blanket, he snorted, “Don’t look like. Looks like lover-boy, here, spent the night on the couch all by his lonesome.”
Red Dog’s eyes came to Crash. “Seriously, man? No joke, you didn’t hit that up?”
Crash rested his palms on the island and dropped his head, glaring at him from under his brows.
Red Dog grinned. “Don’t give me that look, fucker. I saw the bitch yesterday. It’s a fair fuckin’ question.”
While Crash and Dog talked, Green had wandered over to the entrance to the bedroom. Crash heard the strands of paperclips tinkle as Green swept them to the side.
Red Dog saw the look on Crash’s face. “You might as well let them see her. It’s what they came for.”
Shannon lay unmoving in the bed, she’d awoken when the gate to the elevator had slammed open, her eyes flying open. She’d lain there, frozen, listening to the voices of three other men. More members of Crash’s club, from the sound of it. Crap. Here she was, lying in his bed, barely dressed in just his tee and a pair of panties. And to make matters worse, she’d kicked the covers off with the heat of the early morning sun streaming in. She could see the men clearly through the chains that were only a couple of feet from the bed. Could they see her just as clearly?
She lay there listening to their banter back and forth as they ribbed Crash about her. Her arm slid slowly down trying to get the sheet without them noticing her movement through the chain, but, damn, it was out of reach. Then she froze as she saw the shape of one of them heading straight for the entrance to the bedroom. All she could think to do was shut her eyes and feign sleep.
She heard the rustle of the paperclips tinkle and tried to see through a slit in her eyelids. The man had the strands of paperclips swept to the side and held in one big fist. “You got a piece like that in your bed, and you ain’t doin’ nothin’ with it?” she heard the man question in a low voice. He stepped into the room, letting the clips fall. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that Crash would come, and make him leave.
“Goddamn, she’s pretty.” This closer, like he was standing at the foot of the bed. She tried hard to maintain slow and even breathing as if she were sleeping, the whole time painfully aware that she was lying there uncovered, on her side, her one leg canted, showing the curve of her hip. And to make matters worse, Crash’s tee had ridden up and was all twisted around her waist, giving this man a clear shot of her lace panties, her legs, the skin between her panties and belly button and probably half her ass. My God, she was mortified and too terrified to open her eyes. But, so help her, if he reached out and touched her, she was going to jump up on the bed, scream and maybe karate kick him. Oh, please, Crash, make him leave, she chanted over and over in her head.
She heard the paperclip strands rustle loudly as if they’d been flung violently to the side, and then Crash’s voice in a quiet rumble as if he was holding himself back from shouting so as not to awaken her. “Get the fuck away from her.”
“Okay, man. Chill out. I wasn’t gonna touch her,” the man whispered back.
Shannon dared a peek through the slit in her eye, peering through her lashes. The man was still at the foot of the bed, his hand resting on one of the posts. But now, Crash was standing next to him staring down at her with a stunned look on his face. His eyes traveling slowly over her. “She’s off limits. To all of you,” he breathed.
“You keepin’ her for yourself?” the other man asked in a low voice.
“I’m taking care of her.”
“Yeah, I bet.” She saw the man make a lewd thrusting movement with his hips accompanied by a barely audible grunting sound.
“Knock it off, dickhead,” Crash hissed, smacking him upside the head.
Then another voice, and she noticed another figure step behind them, peering over Crash’s shoulder and ask quietly, “So, you’re really not gonna tap that?”
Crash looked over his shoulder at the new man, and then his gaze returned to her body lying across his bed, and he responded softly, “She’s way out of my league, Wolf.”
“She’s in your fuckin’ bed, man. How can you resist that?”
One of them shoved Crash forward toward the bed a step. “Come on, you can do it. We got faith in you.”
“Yeah, it’s just like ridin’ a bike,” another teased in a whisper.
“Knock it th
e fuck off,” Crash hissed softly.
“Well, you got more willpower than I would,” Wolf whispered in a serious voice.
Then the first man replied. “Bigger balls, too.”
“Shut up, fuck-wad.”
“Both of you, out. Now,” Crash growled. She heard them all move out of the room and opening her eyes, she saw them all return to the kitchen, where their banter continued.
“You’re just jealous ‘cause I’m anatomically correct.”
“Go suck a dick.”
Kissy noises filled the air.
“The only thing your lips are gonna be kissin’ is my fist, asshole.”
“You got any coffee, Crash?” one of them asked.
A moment later, one of them hollered out, “Hey, Baby-doll! Get out here, and make your man some coffee!”
“Shut up, man.”
“What? You gotta train ‘em right, right from the start.”
Shannon realized she couldn’t continue to pretend to sleep through all that. She sat up, grabbed the sheet up and then reached over the edge of the bed to the floor and picked up her bra. She fumbled with it under the covers and got it on. Then she grabbed up her dress from yesterday and slipped it back on. She crawled out of the bed and smoothed the dress down. Snatching her purse up off the bedside table, she dashed to the bathroom and slammed the door.
Leaning back against the door with her eyes closed, she heard their laughter. Mortified, she opened her eyes and took in the bathroom. It was the only room in the loft that was actually boxed-in, with walls, ceiling and a door. Directly in front of her was a beautiful antique dresser that had been turned into a vanity by the addition of a gorgeous glass bowl that sat on top and served as the sink. A large framed mirror hung on the wall over it. To the right was a toilet, and to the left was a large, glass enclosed shower encased in a beautiful slate tile.
Shannon stepped forward, slung her bag on the vanity and leaned toward the mirror, studying her face. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was a mess. She dug in her bag and got to work trying to make herself presentable. A moment later, there was a tap on the door. She turned, staring at the closed door and asked hesitantly, “Who is it?”
CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) Page 6
