CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series)

by James, Nicole

  Crystal didn’t reply, but she did take a step back.

  “I think it’s long past time you and I had a heart-to-heart, sweetheart.”

  Shannon turned to see Crystal’s eyes fill. “Are you going to make me leave?” Crystal asked him in a trembling voice.

  Cole’s eyes moved from Crystal to Shannon. He jerked his head toward the door. “Your man’s waiting downstairs for you. Get your ass down there.”

  Shannon’s eyes moved from him to Crystal, not wanting to leave her alone with Cole. “Crystal?”

  “It’s fine. Go.”

  Cole’s eyes snapped back to Shannon. “What’d I just say? I tell you something, you do it. No questions. Now move.”

  Shannon moved to pass Cole, but he held his hand out. “Keys.”

  They were still clutched in her hand. She dropped them in his hand and went out the door. She’d barely cleared it before it slammed behind her causing her shoulders to jump. Shannon looked back at the door. She hesitated, not wanting to leave until she knew Crystal was going to be okay. Pressing herself to the wall near the door, she eavesdropped.

  There was silence for a moment. Shannon dared to peek through the frosted glass window. She could only make out shadowed forms, but it was enough to see Crystal’s smaller form move and blend in with Cole’s larger one. She heard Crystal’s muffled voice, as if her face was now pressed into Cole’s chest. “I’m sorry, Cole. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

  Cole’s soft reply drifted through the door and sounded like his head was dipped to hers. “Honey, tears my heart out watching him jerk you around like he does. You deserve better. When’re you gonna learn?”

  Shannon could hear Crystal sniffle. “I’m a real head-case, I guess. I keep going back for more.”

  “Sweetheart, any one of my boys would treat you better. You need to move on from him.”

  There were some more low murmurings but Shannon couldn’t make out what they were saying. Stepping away from the wall, she hurried downstairs, not wanting Crash to come looking for her and find her eavesdropping.

  Shannon came down the stairs. Jake, Shane, Wolf and Crash were all sitting at one of the tables. Crash looked up when she approached, his hand reaching for hers and pulling her to stand next to his chair. He spoke to the table. “We good, boys?”

  There were murmured agreements all around. “Good.” He looked over at Wolf. “And you need to pull your head out of your ass. Man the fuck up, brother. This shit’s gotta stop.”

  “Enough already. I hear you.”

  “Oh, enough already, huh? That’s rich coming from you, Wolf.”

  “I got it, Crash. Message received.”

  Crash looked over at Shane. “You may not have started this, but just so you know, you’re lucky the whole fucking club didn’t jump your ass. I think the only thing that stopped ‘em was respect for my kid brother.”

  Shane nodded.

  Crash nodded toward the bar where Mack was sitting. “Lucky for you both,” he took in Jake and Shane with his look. “The old man was amused.”

  Wolf blew out a breath.

  Crash’s gaze landed on him. “You he’s not so amused with.”

  “Fuck.”

  Shannon saw Wolf’s eyes move from Crash to something over her shoulder. Turning to look, she saw Cole coming to a stop at the table. His eyes connected with Wolf, and he spoke like they were the only two in the room.

  “Cut her loose.”

  Shannon’s eyes moved from Cole’s hard face to Wolf’s in time to see him nod once.

  With that, Crash pushed to his feet and pulled Shannon to him, towering over her and reminding her how big he was. He looked down at her with a hard look, and she could see he knew all about her running off with Crystal. The look also said he may be through dealing with the guys, but he still planned to deal with her. “Let’s go.”

  He pulled her toward the door, saying nothing as he led her across the parking lot to where his bike was parked. He passed her helmet to her, climbed on and fired the bike up. Strapping his own helmet on, he waited for her to climb on, and then he hit the throttle and pulled out.

  Shannon pressed against him, her arms wrapping around him, and she watched the streetlights fly by as he hit the on-ramp of the eight-eighty freeway. It was late, and there wasn’t much traffic. He flew down the interstate. The lights of San Jose, and then Oakland flashing by them.

  Crash took the turn off the street, pulling inside the garage and shutting the bike off. Shannon climbed off the back, unbuckling her helmet. He did the same, and then moved toward the elevator. She followed him. He threw the gate open, pulled her inside and slammed it shut with a clang. Then he leaned back against the rail and stared at her. His eyes dropped to her throat, and he lifted his hand to her jaw, gently tilting her head up and to the side, studying the scratches and also the marks he’d left on her throat. Love bites, no, more primal, maybe more like an animal marking his turf.

  Shit!

  He let his hand drop. He hadn’t meant to do that. He hadn’t meant to do a lot of shit he’d done tonight. His best intentions had gone out the fucking window when he got his first look at her tonight. His eyes swept over her again, taking in the wicked hot leather, and he felt his dick jump. Christ! He looked up, watching the bricks slide past as the elevator ascended.

  “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

  His eyes dropped to her, and then he hooked his hand at the back of her neck and pulled her close, his face inches from hers. “Just so we’re clear, Shannon. I like Crystal. We all do. And I understand the girl code, gotta help a sister and all that shit, but in that clubhouse, the Brothers rule, and you do not interfere! You need to remember that.”

  “I hate cheaters,” she blurted softly.

  He let her loose. “Ain’t cheatin’ if they’re not even together.”

  “Then why was Wolf pissed and jealous of Shane? What about him and Misty?”

  The elevator stopped with a shudder. Crash paused with his hand on the gate. “What about her?”

  “So there’s two sets of rules? One for the men and one for the women?”

  He shrugged. “Wolf and Crystal are a special case. Their relationship is fucked up, and they both know it, and yet they both keep at it.”

  “And Red Dog and Mary? Is that another special case? If Mary was doing what her husband was doing…”

  “He’d kill her.”

  Shannon stared at him. “I hope that’s an exaggeration.”

  “I hope so, too.”

  “You’re unbelievable. The whole lot of you.”

  “I won’t argue. Like I told you before, cheating happens everywhere. But that ain’t me, babe.”

  “Right.”

  “Seems we had this conversation once already.”

  “I believe we did.”

  “So let it go.”

  She folded her arms.

  The corner of his mouth pulled up. She was damn cute when she was all righteous and shit.

  “What are you smiling at?”

  He threw the gate open. “Just you. You’re fuckin’ cute.”

  “I thought you were mad at me,” she reminded him, following him off the elevator.

  “Was. Past tense. Now I think you’re cute.”

  *****

  Nicklaus Ralston leaned back in his chair staring at the man sitting across his desk. His private investigator had dug up everything he could about Cole Austin. In addition to the detailed report now sitting on his desk, there were also several surveillance photos of him and his ‘gang’. Nicklaus huffed out a breath. Evil Dead. How bloody absurd.

  What in the world was the connection between a woman like Shannon Taylor and a man like Cole Austin? He couldn’t make sense of it. “Mr. Abbott, I see a lot of information here regarding this, what did you call it? MC? But I’ve yet to see where you found any reason why Shannon would have transferred such a substantial amount of money to the Vice President of this…this…Evil Dead gang, as you calle
d them. Have you been able to find any connection between this group and Shannon?”

  Abbott pulled one last photo from his file folder and slid it across the desk. “That was taken last night at the Evil Dead clubhouse.”

  Nicklaus picked it up and studied it. It was a photograph of a motorcycle pulling out of the Evil Dead property. There were two people on the bike. A man and a woman. At first glance he wasn’t even sure why he was being shown this photo. He looked up at Abbott. “And?”

  “Does she look at all familiar?” Abbott asked him.

  Nicklaus’s eyes dropped back to the photo. It had been taken at night, but as the bike passed under a streetlamp. The woman on the back of the bike was blonde, but he didn’t see any other resemblance to Shannon. Nicklaus looked up at Abbott with a laugh, “Are you telling me you think this little chippy in her skimpy leather halter top with her belly showing is my Shannon? You can’t be serious.”

  “Take a closer look.” Abbott nodded at the photo. “Didn’t you tell me Ms. Taylor always wore the charm bracelet given to her by her father? You said the only charm on it was her initial.”

  Nicklaus leaned forward in his chair looking carefully at the photo

  “I had that portion of the photo blown up.” Abbott slid another photo across the desk.

  Nicklaus picked it up. It was an enlargement of the woman’s hand resting on the man’s hip. Encircling her wrist was a silver link bracelet, and dangling from it was a single charm. The letter S. His eyes connected with Abbott over the top of the photograph. “Where is she?”

  “I wasn’t even sure that was her until I got back to my office and reviewed all the photos I’d taken of every single member going in and out of the club. When I saw that one,” he nodded to the picture in Nicklaus’s hand. “I compared it with the photos you’d given me of Shannon Taylor. And then of course when I spotted the bracelet...”

  Nicklaus studied the photo again. “The man on this motorcycle doesn’t look like the photos you have of Mr. Austin. So, who is he?”

  “Trying to get a lock on the guy. Lost him last night. So many bikes pulled out at once.”

  “So you have no idea where she is?”

  “I’ve traced her to the club, now I just need to continue surveillance until she shows up again.”

  “Which may be tomorrow or may be never.”

  “I’ve got to believe, with her dressed like that,” he nodded toward the photo. “That she’s pretty immersed in this club.”

  “Good Lord, how did that happen? Do you think they extorted that money from her?”

  Abbott shrugged. “No clue. Sometimes it’s hard to explain a woman’s mind. The attraction of the bad boy and all that.”

  “Hmm. I suppose you’re right.” He studied the photo, still having trouble making sense of this in his mind. These puzzle pieces just didn’t fit together. What in the hell was the connection? He set the photo aside. “Yes, well, keep on it. This is your top priority. I want updates daily from now on.”

  Abbott stood. “Of course, sir.”

  Nicklaus stood and extended his hand. “Well done and all that.”

  Abbott shook it. “Thank you, sir.”

  When he was gone, Nicklaus sat back down and picked the photo up. His eyes ran over her body in the trampy little outfit. Maybe he’d have to dress her up like that when she came back. Of course that would be just for his private entertainment. “Shannon, my luv, what a surprise you’re turning out to be.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “I’m bored,” Shannon said, hopping up on the workbench in the garage down on ground level.

  “Yeah. You said that already,” Crash replied, not bothering to look up at her. His head under the hood of the old Ford pickup he was trying to get running.

  She let out a deep frustrated breath.

  He glanced up from what he was doing. “It’s pouring rain, Shannon. It’s not like we can take the bike anywhere. Unless you want to be soaked when we get there.” He walked over and picked up a beer off his tall rolling tool chest, taking a slug. Shannon turned and looked out the open garage door at the downpour, and he could see cabin fever was starting to set in. Grinning, he let his eyes slide over her. “We could fool around. That’s always an entertaining pastime for a lazy, rainy day like this.”

  She turned back to him, rolling her eyes. “Be serious.”

  “Okay, then, how about we play a little game?” he asked, setting the beer down and returning to the engine.

  “What kind of game?”

  “Truth or Dare.” The muscles in his arms strained with the torque of the socket wrench as he fought to loosen a spark plug that was stuck. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

  “That’s so high school.”

  “You haven’t played it with me. The dares are so much more inventive when you’re an adult.” Finally, the plug broke loose, and the ratchet on the socket began to turn. Clickety-clack.

  “It’s a child’s game.”

  “What’s the matter? Chicken?” He turned his head enough to look at her.

  “No.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “Okay, fine.”

  “Truth or Dare?” Crash asked, replacing the old plug with a new one.

  “Truth.”

  He straightened from under the hood and grinned at her. “How many sexual partners have you had?”

  “What, you want like a number?”

  Tossing the old plug on the ground he asked, “Can you count them on one hand?” When she hesitated, he prompted, “Two hands?” She looked at the ceiling, and he could almost see the wheels turning. The corners of his mouth pulled up. “Christ. I’ll give you a minute to add ‘em up, darlin’.”

  “Shut up! Six, okay.”

  “Six, huh? Maybe seven’s gonna be your lucky number, sweetheart.”

  She huffed out a little laugh. “You’ve still got a fight to win, Romeo.”

  “You doubting my abilities, babe?”

  “Which abilities are you referring to? The ones in the cage or in bed?”

  “Both, baby.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “After the fight, I’m gonna make you pay for every one of those eye rolls of yours.”

  “My turn. Truth or Dare?” she asked him.

  “Truth,” he replied without hesitation, leaning under the hood again.

  “Why did you agree to do this?”

  “Do what?” He began removing another plug. Clickety-clack.

  “Take me on.”

  “The truth?” He turned his head, his eyes connecting with hers.

  She nodded.

  “Because you’re hot.”

  She rolled her eyes again.

  “You didn’t let me finish, baby. Your class, your manners, your softness-”

  “My softness?”

  “Yeah.” He strained to get another stuck spark plug to break free. “From your soft curls to your silk cami, to your pretty pink toes—head to toe softness, Princess. You’re feminine. You’re not trying to be a hard-ass biker bitch.” He glanced over at her. “That stuff gets old, Shannon.”

  “Oh,” her mouth formed the word, her eyes wide.

  She acted like no one had ever said anything like that to her before. He knew that couldn’t be true. Guys had to hit on her all the time. Feeding her any lines they’d think would do the job to get in her pants.

  “My turn. Truth or Dare?” he asked her, working on getting the next plug loosened.

  “Truth.”

  “Ever been with more than one man?”

  “No!” she bit out in her best outraged voice and then quieter, “Have you?”

  He grinned. “Men? Hell no! Women? Fuck yeah.” He watched her blush and couldn’t help asking, “Do you want to?”

  “I’ve never thought about it,” she replied, looking away, not able to meet his eyes.

  “Liar!”

  “Truth or Dare?” she asked, changing the subject.

  He wanted to call her out on her bu
llshit answer, but he let it slide. “Since your questions aren’t very dirty, I’ll say, dare.”

  “Okay. Show me all your tattoos.”

  Grinning, he tossed the socket wrench aside and began wiping his hands on a rag, his eyes never leaving hers. “All of ‘em, huh? How many you think I got?”

  She shrugged. “That’s what I mean to find out.”

  Crash reached behind his head grabbing two fistfuls of fabric and yanked the tee shirt over his head, letting it drop to the cement floor. “Well, come on over here, and count ‘em up, babe.”

  Her eyes dropped to his muscled arms, shoulders and rock hard abs. Swallowing, she hopped down off the bench and moved toward him. He watched as her eyes moved over his body. Her mouth parted, and the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Show me,” the words barely a whisper.

  He tapped a large tattoo on his left shoulder that ran down to his elbow. It was a pair of feathered wings with a cross in the center. Just below the cross were a set of initials. “This one? The wings and the cross, that’s for my brother.”

  “What do the wings represent?”

  “He was in the 82nd Airborne.”

  “Oh.”

  “Those are his initials.” He met her eyes as she studied the intricate artwork.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks. I had a good friend of mine lay the ink, but I came up with the design.” He tapped another tattoo lower down on his forearm. “This one’s for the club.” He watched her gaze run over the skull and other symbols, knowing she didn’t really understand any of their meanings

  Twisting, he showed her the one high on his right shoulder blade, an eagle, and then he lifted his right arm to show her the tribal scroll that ran down along his ribs under his right arm. “That one was the worst. The ribs hurt like a bitch.”

  Her hand reached out, her finger tips brushing along his skin, tracing the ink on his ribs. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, and then as if just realizing she’d touched him, she stepped away.