“Mack.” Her voice held warning.
“Jesus Christ.”
“This girl is the reason my Angel is not buried in hospital debt. Her generosity is the reason she can breathe easy. You are not going to ‘run her ass off’.”
“Natalie, let go.”
“Swear to God, Mack. You do, and we are through.”
“Thought you just told me we were through.”
“You know I didn’t mean it.”
He stared at her, and then he said, “Let go.”
She did, and he hit the throttle and pulled out, roaring off the lot.
Cole slammed out of the door, and Natalie twisted to see he had his cell phone to his ear. She heard him bark into it, “He knows. He’s on his way.” Snapping the phone shut, his eyes drilled into hers. “Swear to God, if you weren’t related to me…and my wife didn’t love you…and my kids didn’t love you…and I didn’t love you…”
“You’d what?”
“Beat your ass, woman!”
*****
Crash snapped his phone closed, “Shit!” He stood up from the couch where he’d spent the night. He paced the room.
Fuck.
This was not good.
What the hell was Mack going to do about her? Crash thought about getting her out of there before Mack showed up, but hell, she had nowhere to go. Best to just let Mack come, blow his temper, and hopefully afterward he’d be reasonable.
Crash walked over to the door to the bedroom. He swiped the paperclips aside that Shannon had painstakingly rehung. Looking at the bed, he took in the sight of her sleeping. It never failed to stir him, the sight of her in his bed. “Shannon.”
The kitten looked at him from its spot curled up on the bed next to her and meowed.
She stirred slightly, but her eyes remained closed. “Shannon. Babe, wake up.”
This time her eyes fluttered open, and then she yawned and stretched. “Morning.”
“We got company coming. Get dressed.” He let the paperclip strands drop and went to make coffee.
He was on his second cup when he heard the pipes rumbling up the street. Getting up from the island, he strode over to the security console and punched in the code to raise the steel door. Then he sent the elevator to the ground floor. Strolling back to the island, he sipped his coffee and waited, listening to the sounds of not one, but three bikes roll in.
Fuck.
He heard the bikes shut off, and then the gate of the elevator slam shut. Its gears strained and creaked as it rose to the second level. He looked over at Shannon who was leaning back against the sink, her legs crossed at the ankles. She looked cute as hell dressed in a pair of black yoga pants and a hot pink racer-back tank. Her hair was up in a messy twist, and a coffee mug was clutched in her hand. The only giveaway of how nervous she was, was the way her foot was bouncing up and down like she was on speed.
Crash’s eyes flew back to the elevator as Mack threw the gate open and he, Wolf and Red Dog walked in.
“I suppose Cole told you I was coming,” Mack surmised.
Crash nodded. “Yeah, he did.”
Mack just glared at him and then stalked across the room toward the island. He paused, taking in Shannon. Then he spun around, stalking across the room and back, his hand raking through his hair, frustration rolling off him.
Crash noted his eyes taking in the pillow and blanket on the couch. He rose and moved toward the coffeemaker. Pulling down a mug, he picked up the pot and filled it, then held it out to Mack, who glared at him, then accepted the cup.
“Suppose this is why you’ve been AWOL for so much shit.”
“I haven’t been AWOL for anything.”
“Yeah, Cole’s covered your ass. His ass I’ll deal with later.”
Shannon turned toward Wolf and Red Dog and whispered, “Would you like some coffee?”
Wolf smiled at her. “I’ll have some, darlin’.”
Red Dog looked over at him. “What, one brush with death ain’t enough for you?”
Shannon shook her head. “No rat poison. Cross my heart.”
Mack looked down at his cup. “Wait. What?”
Crash fought to not smile. “It’s fine, Mack. Just an inside joke about her coffee making abilities.”
“Brother, right now, her coffee making abilities are the least of your worries.”
“Maybe we could have this discussion up on the roof? Just you and me?”
Mack grunted. “Maybe you should let the little heiress hear this.”
“Mack.”
“Fine. I could use a smoke anyway.”
Crash led him outside. Dropping to a chair, he pulled his pack of smokes out from under his seat. It was definitely a two-smoke cheat day. He put the cigarette to his lips and flicked his lighter open. Drawing deep, he looked over at Mack, who’d taken a seat next to him and was puffing on a cigar to get it lit. “How much do you know?”
“Apparently, I don’t know shit. You wanna fill me in?”
Crash blew out a stream of smoke. “She came to Cole for help. Has an ex-boyfriend stalking her. Felt she couldn’t go to the police. Whatever.” Cole waved his cigarette in the air, dismissing that part of the story. “Cole wasn’t about to bring this shit to the club or bring her home. I volunteered. Here we are.”
Mack puffed on his cigar, studying Crash. His eyebrows rose. “That’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
“Huh.”
Crash looked off at the horizon, not believing for a second that Mack was gonna let this go.
“So, you’re not hittin’ that?”
Crash took another drag off his smoke. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
A broad smile cut across Mack’s face. “Looked to me like you were relegated to the couch. Don’t look like there’s any kissin’ to tell, brother.”
Crash gritted his teeth. “No, I guess not.”
Mack took several more puffs on his cigar. Then he pulled it from his mouth and studied it. “Bring her to the BBQ at the clubhouse Sunday.”
Crash’s gaze swung to him. He was stunned speechless. “What?”
“You heard me.”
For lack of any desire to make matters worse with Mack, he agreed. “All right.”
“You do know she’s a missing person, right?”
“Saw it on the news last night. Had her call the cops, tell ‘em it was all a misunderstanding, and she’s fine.”
“Uh-huh.” Mack studied him. “Seems like there’s more to this story.”
“I think there probably is. More than either of us is getting.”
He grinned. “Well, nothing like a little intrigue to keep things interesting.”
They both smoked and studied the horizon.
Crash finally broke the silence. “So, you’re good with this.”
“Didn’t say that. You watching out for her, I’m good with. You and Cole keepin’ shit from me, I am not good with.” He puffed on his cigar. “That will be dealt with.”
Crash nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Oh, there ain’t gonna be anything fair about it. If there’s a shit detail, you and Cole are gonna be on it. Don’t for a minute doubt that.”
Fuck.
“Go get your house guest. I want to talk to her.”
“Mack.”
“Now.”
Crash blew out a breath. Flicking his smoke into the alley below, he rose and went inside.
Two minutes later, Crash and Shannon emerged onto the roof. She followed behind him, the coffee mug still clutched in her hand. Crash stopped next to his chair and waved for her to take a seat. She threw him a nervous glance, and then looked over at Mack.
“Good morning,” she murmured, taking a seat.
“Morning. Glad you could join us.”
“Shannon, this is Mack. Mack, Shannon,” Crash made the introductions.
Mack’s eyes swept over her. “So, you’re hiding out, huh?”
Her eyes lifted to Crash’s as he stood above her. He
nodded, indicating she should answer. He’d already told her downstairs that he’d talked to Mack. He watched her gaze drop, and she turned back to Mack. “Yes, I suppose that’s what you could call this.”
He nodded. “How long’s that gonna work?”
“He should be leaving the country in a couple of weeks. If I can just lie low until then…”
“What do your parents know?”
“They know I’m okay, but they don’t know where I am.”
“And the missing person report?”
“I’m not sure. I’m guessing my father was trying to force my hand and make me return.”
“He offered a reward for you. A big one. You know about that?”
Crash hadn’t heard that part of the report, and he knew Shannon hadn’t either. He looked down at her, studying her reaction to that news. She looked a little shaken.
“No. I didn’t.”
“Your father know about your fear of this guy?” Mack cut straight to the heart of the matter.
She swallowed. “Well, he knows, he just doesn’t agree that there’s any need for concern. He thinks I’m overreacting and being ridiculous.”
Mack puffed on his cigar, his eyes intense on her. “Um-huhm.”
Crash stared down at Shannon, and her eyes lifted to him. He looked over at Mack. “We done here?”
“Yeah.” He stood up, tossing his cigar over the edge into the alley. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.” And then he moved toward the door.
Shannon’s eyes swung back to Crash. “Tomorrow?”
“Let me walk him out,” he answered, without answering. He walked Mack inside. Wolf and Red Dog were leaning against the island, waiting.
“That story’s full of more holes that a slab of Swiss cheese,” Mack stated, turning back to him.
Crash grinned. “Yeah. You’re right. But it’s the only one she’ll give any of us.”
Mack grunted. “Women.” He turned to Wolf and Red Dog. “Let’s go.”
They all stepped onto the elevator. Mack paused before closing the gate and turned back to Crash. “You do realize the boys are gonna be fallin’ all over her tomorrow, right?” He nodded back toward the roof and Shannon. “So, you better decide if you’re goin’ there or not. Don’t need you beating every motherfucker that looks twice at her to a pulp. You get me?”
“I get you.”
Mack slammed the gate closed and descended. Crash punched in the code to raise the door. After they rode out, he closed it again. Then, grabbing the half empty coffee pot, he returned to the roof and Shannon.
She sat staring out at the horizon, and he wondered what was going through her head. Pausing next to her chair, he held the pot aloft. “Warm it up?”
She nodded. “God, yes.”
He grinned, topping her mug off. Then he moved to the chair Mack had vacated and picked his own mug up off the ground and refilled it. Setting the empty carafe down, he leaned back, raising the steaming mug to his mouth.
“Will he turn me in?” Shannon asked out of the blue.
His eyes swung to her. “Turn you in?”
“For the reward? Will he give me up for the money?”
Crash studied her over the rim of his mug, and then he was honest with her. “Ain’t gonna lie to you, babe. It may have crossed his mind. But I don’t think even Mack would sink that low. He’s no rat.”
“He’s intimidating, isn’t he?” It was more of a statement than a question, but he answered it anyway.
“Yep.”
“He talks so calmly, but there’s an underlying edge there, isn’t there?”
Crash nodded. “Your instincts are pretty good.”
“My instincts are warning me he’s dangerous.”
“Your instincts would be right. He is dangerous. And every brother you meet tomorrow is just as dangerous.”
“Even you?”
He paused with the mug half way to his mouth. “Even me, Princess.”
CHAPTER TEN
The next day, Shannon was in the bedroom finishing putting together her outfit for the BBQ. Crash stepped into the doorway, and she looked up. “I’m almost ready.”
His eyes swept over her, and she could see the heat flare to life in them. His jaw clenched, and then he said, “No, you’re not.”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” she asked looking down at her outfit.
“Nothing. It’s pretty and classy and looks great on you, but-”
“But what?” she asked, her hands landing on her hips. Before she realized what he was about, he’d grabbed her hand and was pulling her along behind him into the bathroom. Stopping in front of the large mirror, he pointed to their reflection.
“Do we make sense to you?”
She stared at the reflection of the two of them. He was in his jeans, biker boots and a black S&S Carburetor tee shirt, his muscled arms covered in tattoos. He was the walking-talking epitome of badass, dangerous, sex-on-a-stick. Her gaze slid over to herself in her peach silk tank and blue pleated trousers and her high-heeled snake-skin sandals. She looked fine. But together—he was right, they looked ridiculous, unless she was his lawyer bailing him out of jail.
“If you’re trying to blend in, that outfit ain’t it. You’ll stand out like a sore thumb.”
“I see what you mean.” She met his gaze in the mirror. “But I don’t have any clothes that will work.”
She watched as he pulled out his cell phone. “What are you doing?”
“Calling in backup.” His thumb moved over the pad, and he put it to his ear. “Angel, Crash. Hey, baby. Fine, and you? Good. Baby, I got a little situation here. I was hoping maybe you and Crystal could help.”
Forty-five minutes later they were stepping off the elevator with armloads of clothes thrown over their arms.
“Hey, sweetheart. Thanks for coming.” Crash hugged Angel, taking the burden from her arms and setting it down across the couch. Then he repeated the process with Crystal. “Crystal, this is Shannon. Shannon, Crystal.”
They nodded to one another, and Crystal eyed her outfit up and down, her arms folded. She circled around Shannon, making her feel very uncomfortable.
“I see what you mean. Hmm—I can work with the snakeskin sandals. But the rest has to go.” Crystal passed judgment.
Angel turned to Crash. “We got this. Pick her up in an hour, now shoo.”
He grinned, glad to escape the hen fest. “Yes, ma’am.”
Once Crash left the building, Angel turned to Shannon. “Look through what we brought. See if anything feels like you.”
Shannon nodded toward Crystal. “I like what Crystal’s wearing.” Her eyes swept over the tight baby-doll tank with the tiny lace trim, down over the expanse of exposed belly to the belted denim shorts that came just past her ass, and down to the combat-type boots she wore. The whole thing was topped off with several strands of chain necklaces and dozens of bracelets on each wrist.
“That’s Crystal’s style. That’s not you. What would you wear to a BBQ? Let’s start there,” Angel suggested.
A half hour later, after sorting through all the clothes, Shannon was modeling an outfit. She was dressed in a pair of white, short-shorts, a bright orange tank top with the back straps twisted into a rope that ran down the center of her spine. Two gold metal circles attached the straps to the bodice of the tank at the front that hung loosely to her hip. They’d accessorized her with a pair of dangling gold disc earrings and platform sandals.
“She can’t wear the cute platforms riding,” Crystal commented.
“Sure she can,” Angel insisted. “I’ll leave you an old pair of my boots when you go riding, but I think for today, you’ll be fine. You’re only going to the clubhouse and back.”
“It’s forty miles,” Crystal pointed out.
“But they look so cute with the outfit.” Angel wasn’t giving in.
Crystal rolled her eyes. “Not sure this is what Crash had in mind when he called us to redress her.�
�
“Crash doesn’t know beans about women’s clothes. Besides, we could give her a ride to the club, it that’s his problem with this outfit.”
Crystal grinned, taking in the long length of Shannon’s tanned legs and the way the shorts hugged her ass. “Yeah, that’s gonna be his problem with this outfit. The shoes.”
Angel smiled conspiratorially at Crystal.
“Oh, I see your game.”
“What?” Shannon asked.
“Nothing, hon. I’m sure this will be fine.” Angel smiled at her.
Shannon looked down at herself. “Are you sure? I thought you’d be dressing me in a Harley tee and jeans.”
The women ignored her.
“She needs to go braless,” Crystal commented.
“She doesn’t need to be skanky,” Angel disagreed. “Crash can have skanky any day of the week. What Shannon’s got going for her is her beauty and class. It’s like she’s some unattainable ideal.”
“Well, you don’t want her to seem too unattainable. I say braless—that’ll get his attention,” Crystal reiterated.
“The strapless bra. It’s sexy as hell,” Angel asserted.
“But it shows,” Crystal argued.
“All the better—a little peek can be very flirty.”
“Better braless.” Crystal wouldn’t give up.
“She’s not easy. That says easy,” Angel insisted.
Twenty minutes later, when Crash stepped off the elevator, they had helped her with her hair and makeup, arguing about that as well. Angel wanted to sweep it up to show off Shannon’s sexy bare back and shoulders. Crystal insisted men liked women’s hair down. Angel, as usual, won out, insisting Shannon could start out with it up, and then let it down later in the day. That way, they both win.
Shannon rolled her eyes and went with the flow.
Now she was standing in front of Crash as his eyes swept over her, feeling almost like a show-horse put up for sale. His gaze heated, his eyes turning molten, especially as they trailed over the length of her long legs and ass. His eyes finally lifted to meet Shannon’s a split second before they swung to Angel. “You’re shittin’ me, right?”
Angel grinned. “No, we are most definitely not ‘shitting’ you. She looks great. This is what she’s wearing, so deal with it.”
CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) Page 12
