“Shannon?” His voice was full of warning.
Her shoulders slumped. “Oh, all right, fine. I let him in.”
“You let him in?” he asked, his brows raised.
“Yes, what’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong with it?” He stared at her a moment, dumbfounded, and then he started ticking off his fingers. “One. You don’t need to be opening the door downstairs. Two. How the hell long were you out there? And three. I don’t want a damn cat.”
“Oh, come on. Please, Crash. He’s just an itty-bitty baby. And he’s half starved. His mother must have abandoned him, or got run over by a car or something.”
Crash closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. It didn’t work. When he opened his eyes, he was still pissed off, and the cat was still there. He tried logic on her. “You know, he’s gonna snag all your sweaters and leave cat hair all over your pants.”
She didn’t look like she was falling for it.
“Come on, Princess!” he growled in frustration.
“Crash, I’ll take care of him. I swear.”
“I’m betting your servants took care of all your cats. I’m betting you’ve never taken care of anything in your life. Why start now?”
“Ha. Ha.”
Argh. “Fine. But I’m not taking care of the damn thing.”
She was all smiles. “Thank you, Crash.”
“Yeah? Well, hold your appreciation for tonight.”
“Tonight?” She looked at him wide-eyed and innocent, as if that were possible.
“Yeah. Later tonight you can get naked and show me how grateful you are.” He stomped toward the door, slamming it behind him. He heard her call his name worriedly as he stomped down the stairs. She better be worried, because he was pretty damn sure he was only half-joking.
She followed him inside.
He moved toward the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he pulled out a beer. Shannon appeared with the kitten. She dropped it to the floor, where it looked up at him and meowed. Great. He shook his finger back and forth. “Na. Na. Na. Don’t look at me, fur-ball.” He pointed at Shannon. “There’s mama.”
Meow.
Crash took a pull off his beer and glared at Shannon. “Well, have you fed it?”
“It’s not an ‘it’. It’s a ‘he’. And yes, I fed Eddie. He had a can of your tuna fish.”
“Uh-huhn. So you’ve fed the cat. You gonna feed me?”
“Umm.” She glanced past him to the stove. “Well, umm. I hadn’t really thought about it. Are you hungry?”
“Yeah, Shannon. It’s six o’clock. I’m hungry.”
Her hands went to her hips. “Well, I had no idea if you’d even be back for dinner. It’s not like you keep me informed. You walk out the door, and I’m just supposed to know when you’ll be home and have dinner magically ready?”
“Magically?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, Shannon, you’re supposed to have dinner ready. Millions of women do it every day.”
“Married women.” She motioned between them. “We’re not married.”
He took a step toward her. “Thank Christ for that!”
“Oh! You’re insufferable.” She stomped her foot.
“Quit acting like a child. You did agree to this set-up, Princess.”
“God! Stop calling me that.”
“Princess. Princess. Princess.”
“Now who’s acting like a child?”
“Babe, make dinner.” He strode past her to the couch and flung himself on it. Picking up a remote, he aimed it at the large flat screen television mounted on the brick wall and flipped through the channels until he found a game.
Shannon pulled the cupboards open and perused the options.
About an hour later, she’d pulled together a meal. Setting the bar with two place settings, she dished them both up. “Your meal’s ready, your highness.”
When he didn’t respond, she glanced over toward the couch. Frowning, she strolled over to him. He was stretched out on the couch on his back, one leg on the cushion, the other leg bent at the knee, his boot on the floor. His hand, still holding the remote, lay on his chest. He was out like a light. “Crash,” she whispered.
He didn’t move.
She wasn’t sure what possessed her, but her hand lifted, and she brushed the hair back from his forehead. He looked so peaceful in sleep. Her gaze took in his features. The strong cheekbones, the slight beard growing along his jaw, the dark brows over his eyes, the crease lines radiating out from his eye. “Crash,” she whispered again and stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers.
He licked his lips and turned his head. Sucking in a deep breath, his eyes opened. “Hmm. Babe. I guess I dosed off.”
“Dinner’s ready.”
He glanced past her toward the bar with the two plates, steam rising from them, and then he swung his leg to the floor and sat up. “Yeah, okay. Let me go wash up.”
Shannon stepped away.
A few minutes later, he joined her at the bar. Sitting down, he looked at what she’d made. “Smells good, babe.” With that he dug in. They ate in silence for a while.
The cat curled around the legs of their barstools, meowing up at them. Shannon dropped it a piece of food. It sniffed at it, and then meowed up at her. Crash glared down at it and shoveled more food in his mouth. Scooping Eddie up, she cuddled him to her lap. Crash watched it out of the corner of his eye. And then it stretched its little front paw out and settled it on Crash’s leg.
Shannon watched as his eyes dropped to the kitten who climbed over from her lap to his. It cuddled against him and started purring.
Crash’s eyes moved to Shannon, and then his hand dropped to the kitten, and his large fingers curled in around its ear, scratching softly. The purring intensified. A small smile formed on Shannon’s mouth.
The game that Crash had been watching on the flat-screen had ended, and the local news had come on. Something in the story caught his attention, and he twisted to look at the report. Shannon’s eyes followed, and there before her on the screen was a picture of herself.
Crash was off the barstool in a flash, grabbing up the remote and turning the volume up.
The missing heiress was last seen Friday. Her car was found abandoned along with her cell phone at a local mall. Police have no leads at this time. And now in other news…
Crash aimed the remote at the screen, flicking it off. He tossed the remote to the table and spun on her. “This is bad, babe. They’re gonna be looking for you all over town. Thought you told them you were okay?”
“I did. I told them everything you said.”
“Then what’s this about? Why would they report you missing?”
Shannon swallowed. Nicklaus. It had to be him. He was controlling her father, trying to force her hand. “My father is calling my bluff. Trying to force me home.” Crash looked at her like he could read between the lines. Like he knew. But he didn’t know, and she couldn’t let him find out. He’d dump her back home so fast, her head would spin.
“What’s going on here, Shannon? The truth.”
“You obviously haven’t dealt with men like my father.”
“Men like your father?”
“Powerful men. Men who are used to getting their way. Men who don’t sit well with rebellion.”
He just stared at her, and she could see him mentally trying to put the puzzle pieces together. But he’d never get the whole picture, because he didn’t have all the pieces. His jaw clenched, and then he spoke. “You need to put a call in to the police now. Explain this is all a misunderstanding. That you are fine, a legal adult and not in the control of your father any longer.”
She wanted to argue, but she knew it was the only way. Nodding, she agreed, “Of course.”
A second later, Crash’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and put it to his ear. “Yeah.” His eyes came to hers. “Yeah, I saw it.”
She watched him bite his lip and look at the ceiling.
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“I’ll handle it, Cole.” He ended the call, tossing the phone down on the table. Then he stalked past her toward the kitchen drawer. She watched him pull out another disposable cell phone. He turned, holding it out to her. “You don’t tell them where you are. You give them nothing except information to confirm your identity, and then you get off the phone. You hear me?”
She nodded, taking the phone.
Crash stood over her while she made the call. When she was done, he took the phone and stalked up on the roof.
After the door slammed, she stared at it, hating that she’d put him in this position. Thinking all over again that maybe she should leave. But where would she go? Back home? Back to Nicklaus?
CHAPTER NINE
The next morning, Natalie sat on a barstool in the Evil Dead Clubhouse. Mack was next to her, his hand stroking her leg as he sipped his coffee. It was just going on nine in the morning. Cole, Wolf and Red Dog were there as well. She’d dropped by for a few minutes before she ran some errands. She had an idea she wanted to share with Mack. Turning to him, she announced, “I’ve been thinking about organizing a girl’s weekend.”
“A girl’s weekend? Like where? A trip to the wine country?” She was always trying to get Mack to go with her to Napa Valley. Wine wasn’t his thing, and she knew he couldn’t picture himself with that crowd.
“Nothing that tame. I was thinking more along the lines of Vegas.”
“Vegas.”
“You’ve heard of it, Mack. What happens in Vegas…” Wolf put in with a grin.
“Yeah, I’ve heard of it, and what happens doesn’t always stay in Vegas.” His gaze swung to Natalie. “Not happening, lady.”
“What do you mean, ‘not happening’?”
“I mean you’re not going.”
“And you’re sure as hell not taking Angel with you.” This from Cole.
“Mary ain’t goin’,” Red Dog put in.
“Boys, you’re overreacting. Guys have fun. Why can’t we girls?”
“Not happening,” Mack replied.
Her eyebrows rose. Just like that? He thought he could control her with two words? “We’ll see.”
“Yeah, and what we’ll see is that you’re not going. You can’t always get your way, baby.”
She’d leveled him with a cat-that-ate-the-cream grin. “Oh, I’ll get my way. I always do.”
Mack held her gaze a heartbeat, his eyes stone cold, and then he quietly ordered, “In my office, now.”
She watched his back as he stalked across the room. Throwing the door open, he turned back to her, his arms folding across his chest as he watched her slide off the barstool and walk across the room. Biting her lip, she walked through the door. He slammed it, his hand resting on the door. His eyes leveled her. “Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?”
She just stared back at him. She’d obviously pushed his buttons, but she was beyond caring. He’d pushed hers, too. Her chin lifted.
“Goddamn it, woman. You can’t pull that shit. Not in front of them. I can’t have you acting that way in front of the boys. You hear me?”
“Maybe my being around is becoming a problem for you,” Natalie whispered.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He prowled further into the room.
She’d tried not to challenge him, tried not to disagree with him or argue with him in front of the club, but she was a green-eyed, redhead after all and with that came a quick Irish temper. Normally she was even tempered, level-headed, but he could try the patience of a saint.
He didn’t own her. He just thought he did. And she’d let him. She was as much to blame for this predicament as he was. Cole had said something to her a while ago, and it had been eating at her ever since. He’d told her the simple truth. Mack hadn’t taken this relationship any further, because she hadn’t demanded it of him. And he was right. She wondered if Cole also saw so easily the reason why she hadn’t. It was because she was afraid what that next step would mean.
Terrified, really.
But she couldn’t go on like this, stuck in some kind of limbo. Not really his, not afforded the respect of an ol’ lady, but not some cheap hanger-on either. What did he want from her? Was he in so deep that he’d stop her from walking away? Or would he let her go, let her walk out the door like she was nothing more than the flavor of the month? They’d been together much longer than that, but had they really ‘been together’? Did he see it that way? Did he see her as his? The men seemed to think she got away with way too much shit, tossing attitude that wouldn’t be tolerated by any other woman.
“I’m not under your control. Not like they expect,” she elaborated with a nod of her head toward the men outside the door. “It’s all about perception, isn’t it? Can’t have them thinking I’m yanking your chain, can you?”
His eyes narrowed. “Is that what you want, Natalie? A man so weak he could be led by his dick? You’re in the wrong place, baby. And you’re sure as hell with the wrong man, if that’s the case.”
“No, it’s not what I want. It’s not what I think. Maybe you won’t admit it, but I think that’s what you think. And more importantly, it’s what you worry they think, isn’t it?”
When he didn’t respond, perhaps so stunned by her words that he couldn’t respond, she gave up. Spinning toward the door, she got three steps, before he was across the room, yanking her back by the arm. He whipped her around and pushed her hard up against the door.
Her eyes flew open. He’d never manhandled her before.
His arms caged her in. “Maybe I do. Maybe that’s my worry. And maybe something else is my fault, too.”
“I didn’t say it was your fault, I-”
He cut her off roughly. “Quiet! It’s my turn to talk. And you’re going to listen.”
Stunned, she stared up at him, her mouth snapping closed.
His eyes dropped to her mouth and then back up to her eyes. “I’ve let you get away with far more than I’ve ever let any broad get away with, with me. And, yeah,” he nodded toward the door. “They see it. They watch us together. I think at first you didn’t even realize. Now you’re starting to see, to understand you’re different.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to treat me different.”
“You are different.”
She huffed out a frustrated breath. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m so different, you don’t know how to deal with me. I just know I don’t want to be in this limbo anymore.”
“Limbo?”
She couldn’t say the words. “Just let me go.” She pushed against him, pushing away from the door. He pushed her right back, his hand over her breastbone. She looked down at it.
“Look at me.”
She swallowed.
“Baby, look at me.” She lifted her eyes to his. His hand slowly slid up her breastbone to her throat to grasp her jaw. “What is it you want from me?”
“I want to know what I mean to you.”
“Everything,” he replied with no hesitation.
She blinked. “It doesn’t feel that way.”
“How does it feel?”
“If I mean something to you-”
“Not something, Natalie. Everything.”
“Then why are we still stuck in the same spot we were in a year ago?”
He reared back, staring at her. “You want my ink? Is that what this is about? You want me to mark you as mine? You ready for that? You even know what that means?”
“Maybe not ink. Maybe a ring. Hell, Mack, we don’t even live together. There’s nothing that says I’m yours.”
“I say your mine.”
“Mack, you think it’s that easy?”
“Yeah, baby. It’s that easy.”
She shoved against him again. “Let me go.”
“No.”
She shoved again. “Yes, Mack. I’m done.”
“Done? What do you mean you’re done?”
“Done. D-O-N-E. Done.”
“I say when we’re done, N
atalie. And we are not done.”
“You’re a possessive asshole.”
“Yeah, and don’t you ever forget it, darlin’.”
“You can’t control me. Hell, you can’t even control your own men.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. That got him. She watched the fire in his eyes turn to ice in an instant.
“Say again?”
Her mouth clamped shut. Shit, she’d gone too far.
“Explain that.”
She shrugged. “Stuff goes on. You don’t know about all of it,” she confessed, hoping he’d drop it.
“You do not keep shit from me. You know something, you’d better tell me. Right fucking now, Natalie.”
“Mack-”
“Now.”
She swallowed, “Crash has been…”
“Crash has been what?”
“Giving protection to a woman.”
He frowned, “What?”
“That woman on the news last night, the missing heiress. She’s with Crash.” His eyes blazed, and then the next thing she knew she was flung to the side, the door slammed open against the wall, and he was gone.
She closed her eyes. What have I done? She had to fix this. She had to stop Mack. Running after him, she caught up with him in the common room.
“Mack, let me go with you,” Cole was saying.
“You’ve done enough! Wolf. Dog. You’re with me. Let’s go.” Mack stalked toward the door. Wolf and Red Dog cast Cole a look and then following their President out.
She ran after him, but Cole caught her upper arm in a vise grip, demanding, “What the hell did you tell him?”
She looked up into his hot glare. He knew she’d told Mack. Boy was she in trouble, but she couldn’t worry about that now. She had to stop Mack. “I’m sorry, Cole.” She pulled free and ran after Mack. Dashing out the front door, she found him lifting his bike up off his kickstand. She rushed over to him, her hands grabbing the handlebars. “Mack, wait.”
“Those little shits think they can run this shit behind my back. First Cole. Now Crash. Well he’s about to see me run her ass off.”
“Don’t you dare go there with that crap.”
“Baby, let go.”
CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) Page 11
