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

by James, Nicole

  He wasn’t the only one that caught the exchange and was frowning. He noticed the new guy, Ghost’s eyes moving between his brother and the girl, obviously wondering as well what kind of history these two had.

  Butcher nodded toward the keg that sat over by the backdoor and said to Letty, “Why don’t you and your friend go get yourselves something to drink while I catch up with your brother, okay, darlin’?”

  Letty nodded and turned, motioning for Skylar to follow her. Crash’s arm slid from around her, but not before he gave her a questioning look that asked without words if she was okay. She gave him a shaky smile and the two moved off.

  Crash’s turned to catch Shades’ eyes following the girls as they walked away, or more specifically, Skylar.

  Butcher turned to Crash. “Your sister doin’ okay?”

  Crash grinned, knowing he was concerned by the dreads. “She’s doing fine. She’s got a shop down in Southside, and she’s in love with some guy named, Ace.”

  “You good with that?”

  Crash shrugged. “Just met the dude. He seems like a good guy, but I’ll reserve judgment until I know him better.”

  Butcher chuckled. “I seem to remember no guy was good enough for your sister back in the day.”

  Crash grinned. “True.”

  Butcher turned as two more brothers walked up. He slapped the brother next to him on the shoulder and nodded to the man next to him. “You remember Boot and Tater.”

  Cole spoke up. “Hell, yeah. How are you boys?” They embraced, slapping each other’s backs.

  Crash did the same.

  “Slick’s inside. I know he’s anxious to see you, but he’s taking Bulldog’s death the hardest.”

  They nodded.

  Butcher lit up a cigar and waved it toward some other members standing off by the picnic tables and near the back door. “Lot of new members since you left. I’ll have to be sure to introduce you both around later.”

  They nodded.

  “How are things going around here?” Cole asked.

  Butcher puffed on his cigar. “Pushing a major membership drive. Gulf Coast chapter just started up. Lost a couple boys to it. Sent ‘em down there to keep an eye on things.”

  “Problems?”

  “Some. But that’s a conversation for another time.”

  “You short-handed?” Crash asked.

  Butcher shrugged with a grin. “Not short-handed, per se, just pushing to be the biggest, baddest dog on the block.”

  Cole grinned. “I see.”

  Butcher looked between Cole and Crash. “Why don’t you boys come back home? Haven’t you had enough of that slick, west coast life style?

  Boot grinned around his smoke. “At least here you don’t have to deal with earthquakes, landslides and wild fires.”

  Crash laughed. “No. You’ve just got heat, humidity and hurricanes.”

  Butcher let loose a deep rumble of laughter. “True enough. True enough. But, seriously, give it some thought. We could use you two.” He looked between them. “VP position just came open.”

  Cole gave a sad smile. “I know, Butcher. Sad you gotta go through this. Can’t see walking in that door,” he nodded toward the house referring to Bulldog. “And him not being there.”

  Crash added, “Between my granddad and that man, they’re the ones that taught me what it means to be a man.”

  Butcher nodded and agreed, “He’s gonna leave a big hole.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  Current day…

  Crash stared out the window of the 737 jet as they touched down at Birmingham-Suttlesworth Intl airport. It seemed like just yesterday that he was here, and his sister and grandmother had been alive. Now he had no one here anymore. The plane taxied to the gate.

  Ten minutes later the four of them carried their bags toward the curb in front of the terminal. Boot, one of their brothers from the Birmingham chapter, was waiting for them with a mini-van.

  “Hey, guys.” He hugged Crash, giving him the whole man-hug back-slap thing. “Sorry for your loss, brother. They were good people.”

  After stowing their gear in the back of the van, they climbed in. Boot pulled out of the terminal and got on I20/59 headed toward the city. He looked back over his shoulder. “We got you rooms at a hotel.” He looked over at the passenger seat where Mack sat. “Butcher has arranged for some loaner bikes for you to use while you’re in town.”

  “Thank you. Appreciate that.”

  “Anything else you need, anything, you just let one of us know.”

  Mack nodded.

  Crash replied from the back. “Thanks, man. For everything.”

  Boot nodded.

  Crash looked out the window, watching the scenery flash by. When they got closer to downtown, he leaned forward. “Hey, brother. There is one thing you could do.”

  “Anything, brother.”

  “Drive by my grandmother’s place.”

  “Crash, not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “I need to see it.”

  “There’s not much left, Crash,” Boot warned.

  Crash stared at him in the rearview.

  “All right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Boot made several turns, finally pulling down the side street. As they got half way down the block, the burned out structure came into view. It was surrounded by yellow police tape. Boot slowed the SUV to a stop in front.

  Crash rolled his window down and stared at the blackened and charred remains of the house that had been the only home he’d ever known growing up. The house where the only two family members he’d had left had died. He could only hope to God that the smoke inhalation had gotten them before the fire reached them. His jaw ticked with the emotions churning through him.

  Angel, who was sitting in the back, between himself and Cole, reached over and squeezed his hand. He took in a long deep breath and pressed the button on his door, the window sliding slowly back up. “Go.”

  Two nights later…

  Both caskets were in the same viewing room at the funeral home. Cole stood in front of Crash’s grandmother’s closed casket, his arm draped around Angel, who stood at his side. His eyes moved from the beautiful spray of white roses that lay over the casket to the framed photograph. He squeezed Angel. “I always called her Mama Rose. Growing up, I used to be at their house more often than my own. She always fused over me, made sure I had enough to eat.”

  Angel squeezed him back. “I’m sorry, baby. I know she meant a lot to you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “At least you got to come out and see her that last time.”

  “Yeah.” Cole twisted his head to look to the side, where Crash stood across the room in front of his sister’s casket, hers covered by a spray of pink roses. Ace was by his side. Both their heads bent, their hands in their pockets. He saw Skylar walk up to him and Crash put one arm around her, pulling her close, their heads bent together. Cole could see her shoulder’s shake as she cried. Then he watched one of Crash’s hands come out and wipe at his eyes, and he looked away, knowing in another second, he was going to lose it himself. He murmured to Angel, “I don’t know how he’s going to get through this.”

  “He’s strong, Cole.”

  “Christ, baby, in the space of a year he just lost his whole fucking family,” he whispered back brokenly, his head bent.

  “No, Cole. He still has us. He still has all his brothers.”

  Cole choked up. “Yeah.” He sniffed, trying to take a deep breath. “Yeah, he does.”

  The procession to the cemetery the next day was a long one. Crash followed immediately behind the two hearses, riding one of the bikes that had been provided. Behind him was Cole and Mack, also on bikes. Then came Butcher, the President of the Birmingham chapter and all his men. Behind them was a car carrying Angel and Ace and his immediate family. And behind that was a long line of cars containing neighbors, church members, and friends.

  They buried them beside the three grave stones already standing i
n a row. Crash’s grandfather, his mother and his brother. And now they would lay his grandmother and sister with them. The graveside was crowded with people. Although there weren’t really any other family there other than a couple distant cousins, there were a lot of people that loved his grandmother and sister. That was evident by the crowd of people standing around the graveside. Half the neighborhood and most of the congregation had turned out, along with many of his sister’s and Ace’s friends from the artist community.

  Scanning the faces, Crash recognized some, others, not. He sat in the front row of metal folding chairs with Cole, Angel and Mack on one side, and Ace on the other side, whose family took up the second row. Crash’s leg was jumping a mile a minute, his knee bouncing up and down. He just wanted to get through this day. If he could just get through this day, he’d be okay. He kept telling himself that. Just get through today. That’s all he had to do. Just make it through today.

  After the minister said his final words over the gravesite, the mourners began to disperse, some stopping by to give Crash their personal condolences.

  Cole, Angel, Mack and Butcher hung back, waiting patiently until the mourners add all trickled off. More brothers stood off by the paved drive, giving them space. Cole looked over at where Crash and Ace stood alone, saying their own final goodbyes to the women they both loved. Skylar walked up and stood next to Crash, her hand sliding over to clutch his. He looked over at her and squeezed her hand, trying to offer her a smile, but his heart was obviously not in it.

  Butcher said in a low voice, his eyes on Crash, “Maybe it’d do him good to stay in town a while. We’d be glad to give him a spot at the table.”

  Cole’s eyes moved between Mack and Crash’s back. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what’s the right move for him.” He shrugged. “Might be too many memories lurking around every corner here.”

  Mack looked at Butcher. “If you want to make him the offer, I’m good with it. Whatever he needs right now, whatever he wants, I’ll back it.”

  Butcher nodded.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  Crash ended up staying in town about a month, sleeping some of the time in an extra room at the clubhouse, and some of the time crashing at Skylar’s place, but in the end, Cole had been right. There were just too many memories for him there, and they all reminded him that Letty and his grandmother were both gone, and so he had come home.

  His brothers welcomed him home, glad to have him back in California, where they all thought he belonged. Crash wasn’t so sure where he fit anymore. He didn’t feel like he belonged in Birmingham any longer, but he wasn’t sure he felt right in his loft, either.

  He’d been home two weeks, but still every time he walked in his place, all he could think about was Shannon. He tossed his cut on his bed and moved into the kitchen to grab a bottle of beer. Then he strolled over to the pool table. Leaning back against it, he picked up one of the framed pictures that Shannon had taken. The one of all the guys laughing that morning at The Pony outside Reno. His thumb slid over it, and he took a hit off his beer, remembering.

  He set the photo back down and pulled his cell out. He scrolled through it, pulling up the only two photos he had of Shannon. The ones he’d taken that morning in the motel room in Tahoe. The first, her lying in bed, her golden skin and the sexy line of her back, bottom and legs against the white sheet. One she didn’t know he’d taken. The second, a close up of her face on the pillow, turned toward him, looking right at him, smiling. Her face looked so full of love. She looked happy. Happy to be in that two-bit motel, not the Hilton or whatever five-star hotels she was used to. Just a mom and pop place with a standard bed. Nothing fancy. But she’d been happy staying there, happy to just be with him.

  How the hell had it all gone to shit so fast?

  He blew out a frustrated breath. What the hell difference did it make? Why the hell did he keep tormenting himself with this bullshit? He’d been through hell the last few months, and somehow, however poorly, he was surviving. But still he felt like a fragile piece of glass, ready to break, and all because he couldn’t stop thinking about one blonde.

  Running an aggravated hand through his hair, he slid his phone back in his pocket and walked up on his roof, taking a seat and lighting up a smoke. The sun was sliding into the horizon, leaving the sky in layers of changing colors from vivid blues and purples to bright pinks and golds.

  The peacefulness he tried to find was soon interrupted by the ringtone of his cell phone. Crash pulled it out and looked at the readout. Cole.

  He answered. “Yeah?”

  “Come get your goddamn cat back!”

  Crash grinned. “Nope. I gave him to Melissa. It’s your cat now.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that, by the way.”

  Crash chuckled. “Sorry, brother. She fell in love with him. What choice did I have?”

  “You planned this, didn’t you? The whole time, you were planning to dump that damn fur-ball on me. What’d I ever do to you?”

  Crash blew out a stream of smoke. “I’m sure I could come up with a list.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch. I can’t even run the damn thing over. Melissa would never forgive me.”

  Crash grinned. “Nope. Guess you’re stuck with him.”

  “Eddie. Who names their cat Eddie?”

  Crash’s grin faded remembering the story Shannon had told him about how she’d named all her cats after guitarists. “Shannon named him after Eddie Van Halen.”

  “Christ!”

  “That the only reason you called, to bitch about the cat?”

  “No. Can you be at the clubhouse in about an hour?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Mack called a meeting.”

  “What about?”

  “You’re boys, Jake and Shane.”

  “And?”

  “We’ll talk when we meet.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’m on my way.”

  *****

  An hour later, the boys were all seated around the table. Mack looked over at Crash. “First of all, hadn’t had a chance to formally say this, but I think I can speak for all of us when I say we’re glad you’re home. This is your family, Crash. It’s where you belong.”

  There was a murmuring of agreement around the table. Crash nodded. “Thanks, boys. Appreciate it.”

  “Next,” Mack continued. “We’ve all gotten to know your boys, Jake and Shane. If you agree to sponsor one of them, Cole’s offered to sponsor the other.”

  Crash nodded. “Done.”

  Mack looked around the table and raised his hand in the air. “All in favor of bringing on Jake and Shane as prospects?” Arms went up all around the table. His gaze stopped pointedly at Wolf, who hadn’t raised his hand. “Seriously, brother? I thought you left that shit in the cage?”

  Cole and Crash turned murderous looks on Wolf, who rolled his eyes and reluctantly raised his hand, mumbling, “You know I’m gonna give ‘em hell, right?”

  “They’ll be treated like every other prospect,” Mack growled. “All right, that’s done. We’ll get them some cuts and present them next week.” He turned to Cole. “Next piece of business. Need you to pay a visit to our good friend Artie. Cajun went by Queen of Hearts last night to pick up this month’s payment. Artie wasn’t there. Take somebody with you and take care of it. I’m tired of dicking around with this son-of-a-bitch.”

  Cole nodded once and looked at Dog. “Dog, you and me.”

  “Shit, Mary’s gonna have my ass. Tonight’s her birthday.”

  “I got it,” Crash offered. “Nobody’s at home waitin’ on me.”

  Cole and Red Dog exchanged a look.

  Mack slammed the gavel down.

  They all filed out of the meeting room.

  Cole watched Crash move to the bar, grab a bottle of bourbon and head to a table in a dark corner. Mack walked up next to Cole, following the direction of his eyes. “I’m guessing the time away didn’t do much good.”

  “Doesn’t look that way.�
�� Cole walked toward Crash and sat down. “You gonna spend all day giving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to that bottle?”

  Crash picked up the bottle and refilled his glass. Setting the bottle down, he looked over at Cole. “Maybe.”

  “You gonna start this crap again? Night after night, sitting in this corner?” Cole watched Crash’s eyes lift to meet his. At least he was listening. “Brother, I know you’ve lost a lot. And all of it in a short time.”

  “Don’t need a recap of my life, Cole. I’m the one livin’ it.”

  Cole’s hands rested on the table, he raised them slightly as if at a loss. “I just hate seein’ you this way, brother.”

  Crash looked over at him, his hand still clenched around the neck of the bottle. “Then don’t watch.”

  “Crash, this can’t go on. You’ve got to pull your shit together.” Cole watched his eyes move around the room.

  “Am I letting somebody down? Am I letting my club down? My brothers down?”

  Cole looked down at his hands on the table and shook his head. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. What can I do to help you?”

  Crash shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do, Cole. It is what it is.”

  Mack walked up, a drink in one hand and a cigar in the other. His eyes took in Crash, and then moved to Cole. “Who’s paying the visit to Artie tonight?”

  “Me,” Cole and Crash both replied simultaneously.

  Mack and Cole both looked over at Crash. Mack took a puff on his cigar. “Yeah, okay.” He walked away.

  Cole turned to Crash. “Crash, I got this tonight. Why don’t you head home and-”

  “Cole, I need this. I need to do something other than go home to that empty loft.”

  Cole studied him and nodded. “Okay, brother. But I need you sober.” He looked at the bottle to emphasize his point.