GHOST: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 5)

by Nicole James

  “How old were you then?” She frowned.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Fourteen. Fifteen, maybe.”

  “I remember being terrified you’d laugh at me when I gave that to you.”

  “Never.”

  Her brows rose. “You teased me all the time. Worse than Tommy ever did.”

  He had the decency to look contrite. “I guess I did. But I wouldn’t have teased you about this. It was a gift. You’d made it for me. How could I make you feel bad about that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It was stupid, wasn’t it?”

  He shook his head. “No. Not to me.”

  She smiled; surprised that all these years later, his words about a long ago gift still touched something in her.

  “I used to always wonder why you were constantly stealing these.” He fingered one of the silver nuts.

  “You never said anything, to me or to Tommy. Never once ratted me out.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not a rat.”

  “I was a pest. Always getting in your hair. You used to hate when I’d get in the way.”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “A little?” Her hands landed on her hips.

  He grinned. “I used to love watching you get all riled up. Kinda like now.”

  “You used to torment me. Constantly.”

  “You used to pester the fuck out of us. You were an annoying little brat half the time.”

  “I was not!”

  “Oh, hell yeah, you were. And you did it on purpose.”

  “I most certainly did not.”

  “Yeah, you did, Jess. And I know why, too.”

  Her brows arched. “Oh, you know why, do you? Do tell.”

  “You were trying to get attention. Mine, specifically.”

  “I was trying to get attention? From you? That’s a laugh.”

  He rose and took a step toward her. “Is it now?”

  She backed up a step, but then her chin came up. “I eventually got your attention, though, didn’t I?”

  At the reminder, Ghost’s head came back, and he sucked in a deep breath before taking a step back. His eyes skated down her, and he ground out, “That was a mistake. It should never have happened. I told you that.”

  “A mistake? Is that how you remembered it? Is that all it was to you?”

  ***

  Ghost studied her, recalling that day, a day that was etched in his memory like glass.

  She’d just turned sixteen. Had raced home from getting her drivers license, ecstatic to have passed the driving test on her first try. She’d dashed into the garage to brag to Tommy, who’d had to take his test three times. She’d skidded to a halt. The only one there was himself. He was squatted down next to his new motorcycle. The one he’d just bought the previous week. He’d been about to turn twenty-one that year. It was just before he’d moved out of his dad’s house…

  Ten years ago…

  Ghost looked up from the carburetor he was adjusting. Jessie skidded to a stop, the smile on her face, bright, blindingly bright. His eyes slid down her, taking in the whole package. She was not a little girl anymore, and she had the curves to prove it. Her low-cut jeans hugged her hips; a two-inch gap above the waistband giving him a peek at her bellybutton. Her short pink tank was scooped just enough to give a hint of cleavage swelling above her bra, the baby-blue straps of which showed a bit.

  “I got it! In one try! I got my license, Billy.” She was practically jumping with excitement. There wasn’t anything he could do but rise to his feet and sweep her up when she practically threw herself in his arms.

  “That’s great, brat. Really great.”

  He lifted her off her feet and swung her around. When he set her down, he insisted in a teasing voice, “Let me see your mug-shot.”

  She proudly held up the paper copy of her license.

  He took it, studying it. There was that bright smile again, staring back at him. Hands down, best DMV photo he’d ever laid eyes on. “Not bad, shorty.”

  She snatched it out of his hand. “Not bad?” She pointed to her head. “I did my hair and makeup and everything.”

  He grinned, his eyes skating over her face. She was beautiful. “Real pretty, hon.”

  Her hand went to her hip. “Well, Billy Taylor, I do believe that’s the first compliment you’ve ever paid me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Is it?”

  “Um hmm.”

  “Well, that’s because you’ll always be a brat in my eyes.” He grinned down at her.

  She smiled back, then bit her lip before saying, “Is that so? Well, then maybe you should look again.”

  Oh, oh.

  He couldn’t help but drop his eyes to her mouth. Why the fuck did he just do that? She must have taken that as a sign, because she took a step closer, and her palm settled on his chest.

  Oh, fuck.

  “Maybe you’d like what you see,” she whispered.

  When the hell did she acquire that sexy seductive voice? Did teenage girls practice that shit? Or did it just come natural?

  His eyes dropped to where her hand touched him, her warm palm burning a hole through his shirt. He blinked once, and then lifted his eyes to her. He shook his head an almost imperceptible inch. “That’s a game you don’t want to play, little girl. Not with me.”

  “Maybe it’s not a game.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “And I’m not a little girl, Billy.”

  No shit.

  “Yeah. I noticed.”

  Her head tilted to the side, and the smile was back. “Did you? I was beginning to wonder.”

  His hand closed around her wrist, intending to pull it away, but when he touched her warm skin and felt her pulse under his thumb, he hesitated, holding her hand against him rather than pulling it away.

  “I can feel your heart beat,” she murmured, her eyes gazing up into his.

  Was it beating as fast as her pulse was thrumming under his thumb?

  “Jessie—”

  “You’ve never thought about it?”

  “About what?” Fucking her? Hell yes, he had.

  “Kissing me.”

  Oh, that. Yeah, he’d thought about that, too.

  The next thing he knew, his hand had released her wrist only to slide to her throat, his thumb and fingers cupping to gently tilt her jaw up as he walked her backwards into the tool bench. When her ass hit it, he closed in, his mouth coming down on hers. Softly at first, lips just barely brushing. But after a few soft kisses, he pulled back a fraction of an inch to growl, “Open for me, Jess.”

  When he came back a second time, her soft lips parted. He didn’t hesitate, his tongue delving inside. She surprised him. Her eagerness, her hunger, it seemed her need for his kiss was just as strong as his was for hers. Before he knew it, his hands were closing around her ass and lifting her to set her on the waist high tool bench. She gasped, but he didn’t waste a moment wedging between her knees with his hips and bringing his mouth back down on hers.

  If he were going to hell for this, he might as well make it count.

  He felt her hands clutch at his waist before they slid up his back to pull him closer. She wanted him, wanted this as much as he did in that moment. And in that moment, he wanted it pretty badly. His hand slid up under the hem of her tank to close over her lace-covered breast. He wasted no time in pushing the bra down out of his way, that soft skin of hers filling his hand. He growled into her throat, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth down her neck, with only one goal in mind: closing over her nipple, his thumb brushing back and forth over it.

  He heard her breathing escalate as his mouth tracked across her collarbone, down her cleavage, to latch onto the prize.

  Her back arched, her body offering itself up for him, and her fingers threaded into his hair to pull him closer.

  Heaven.

  Nothing better. Well, he could think of maybe one thing, sinking deep inside her.
<
br />   Fuck. He was hard as a rock, and for some sick reason he wanted her to feel that, to know the effect she was having on him, so his fist clamped around her wrist and dragged her hand down to plant it against the erection that bulged behind his fly.

  She gasped, and he released her nipple with a pop, his head lifting, his eyes connecting with hers. But still he held her wrist in a tight grip.

  “Touch me,” he growled. Her hand closed around him. “Feel that?”

  She nodded.

  “You want that? Cause this ain’t a game.”

  “Billy—”

  Was she even a virgin? He thought she was, but hell, it wasn’t like he kept tabs on her. She was in high school. There had to be boys. And maybe she was smart enough not to bring them around the house, because if she did, they’d sure as hell be run off. If not by Tommy, then sure as fuck by him.

  His jaw clenched.

  “Asked you a question.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  He backed off. “Thought so. Don’t play this game again, Jess. You hear me?”

  She’d nodded once, her eyes big.

  “This was a mistake. Best we forget it.”

  She stared up at him, but he couldn’t quite read her expression. Was she scared? Stunned? Disappointed? He couldn’t worry about that now. He needed to get her gone.

  “Go, Jess. Get in the house.”

  She’d jumped down and fled. Embarrassed? Ashamed? He didn’t know. Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he made a decision in that moment. It was becoming way too dangerous to be living in this house with her. Not with the way he was starting to feel about her.

  He moved out the very next day.

  Ghost shook the memory free and stared at the woman before him now.

  “I crossed a line I never should have crossed. Thought we both agreed to forget that day ever happened.”

  “You mean forget that kiss ever happened?”

  “Yeah. That’s what I mean.”

  “We’re not actually blood related, Ghost. It’s not like you’re really my brother. My mom just married your dad. He wasn’t the first stepdad I ever had, or the last.”

  He squatted back down and began working on his bike again. “What’s she on now?”

  “Husband number five.”

  He shook his head.

  “How about your father?”

  He squinted up his face, thinking. “Mmm, number six, I think.”

  She huffed out a breath. “Doesn’t bode well for either of us, does it?”

  Ghost chuckled. “No, I guess relationship longevity doesn’t run on either side of this fucked up family.”

  She smiled, sobering. “I guess not.”

  Ghost continued working on his bike. He was glad to occupy his mind with something and glad they were both able to drop the subject of the one and only time they’d kissed. He hadn’t been lying. It had been a mistake.

  Jessie sat back against the wall and eventually dosed off. After a while, Ghost took a break and wandered outside. He found a small bluff and was able to climb up and see the road. He spotted several small groups of Death Heads riding the highway.

  He thought about leaving his bike and heading out on foot, but he didn’t know how far they’d get, especially with Jessie in those damned high-heeled boots. There was no way she’d be able to hike through the vegetation, and if they kept to the roads, they’d be sitting ducks and spotted for sure. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if the Death Heads came upon them.

  He looked to the west and saw another line of storm clouds approaching. Goddamn it. They just couldn’t catch a break. He returned to the shed to find Jessie nervously pacing. When she looked up and saw him, she came to a dead stop.

  “You came back.”

  He frowned. “I was just checking out the road.”

  “I thought you left me.”

  “Babe, I was twenty yards away.”

  She began twirling a piece of her hair nervously. “I just thought…”

  He remembered that quirk of hers. Whenever she got nervous or anxious she’d twirl a piece of her hair, round and round. He wasn’t even sure she was conscious of doing it. But for him it was like a ‘tell’ in poker. A dead giveaway to how upset she was. Not that she was ever that hard to read, not for him anyway. At least, that had been the case when she was younger, now, maybe not so much. “Jess, you really think I’d leave you here?”

  “Well, I didn’t think you’d leave your bike, but when I woke up you were gone…”

  “Oh, so I’d leave you, but not my bike, is that it?”

  “I’m sorry. Of course you wouldn’t leave me. I guess I just… got scared.”

  Where the hell did this insecurity come from? It was so unlike the old Jessie, at least the girl he’d known. She was ballsy and brave. Perhaps her brother’s death had done more damage than he’d realized, that or the years since he’d seen her last had scarred her in some way. She’d obviously left Seattle with not much more than the clothes on her back. At some point he was going to have to draw that out of her, but now was not the time. Now she just needed to feel safe. And that was something he’d always been good at with her. He’d always been able to make her feel safe when she was a kid.

  “Come here.”

  She hesitated only a moment before she walked to him. He pulled her roughly into his arms, holding her close. He dipped his head to her ear.

  “Not goin’ anywhere without you, brat. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Lightning flashed and a crack of thunder boomed. He felt her shiver and pulled her closer, remembering how she’d always hated storms as a child. Remembering one storm in particular when she was just a kid, and he’d come home from school that afternoon before either of their parents were home and found her hiding in her closet, shaking and looking terrified. He’d pulled her out and sat on the couch, holding her close, murmuring to her that he was with her and it would be okay. When that hadn’t worked, he’d distracted her with stupid knock-knock jokes until he’d had her giggling, completely forgetting the storm that had raged outside.

  He saw a glimmer of that scared little girl in her eyes now.

  “It’s just a storm, sweetheart. We’re safe here. Safe and dry.” His hands rubbed up and down her back.

  He pulled her down, leaning back against the wall near the door. He kept it cracked open a couple inches so he could breath easier and not get that ‘closed in’ panicky feeling.

  He held her close, cuddled against his side. Her arm naturally lay across his stomach, holding him tight. With one hand he stroked her head, and soon his fingers began to play with her hair.

  “Ghost?” she whispered.

  “Hmm.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything, brat.”

  “When you moved out of your dad’s house—was it because of me?”

  He was quiet for a moment, not sure just how much to admit. Finally, he blew out a breath. “Partly.”

  “Because of the kiss.”

  The kiss. Their one and only. He’d kissed hundreds of women since then, but still that one kiss he’d shared with her stuck in his memory like no other. “Yes and no.”

  Her head lifted off his shoulder, and she met his eyes, hers frowning. “What do you mean?”

  “Because of the kiss, but mostly because you were growing up and…”

  “And what?”

  “And I was starting to think about you in a way I shouldn’t think about you.”

  She grinned. “You wanted to fuck me, didn’t you?” Blunt and to the point, that was Jess.

  “Watch your mouth, brat.”

  “But its true, right?”

  “Yeah. I wanted to fuck you. That what you wanted to hear?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wasn’t gonna happen. No way in hell. So I did what I had to do. I left.”

  “And now?”

  They looked into each other’s eyes a long moment. He supposed
they both were thinking about the ‘what ifs’. Which was a total waste of time. It was in the past. Done deal. Best she realized that. He pressed her head back to his chest. “Get some sleep, Jess. Tomorrow I’ll get us out of here.”

  ***

  The next morning she awoke to find him going over his bike, studying every part.

  “What are you doing?” she asked sleepily.

  “Trying to rob Peter to pay Paul.”

  She frowned. “Huh?”

  “Trying to find a place on the bike I can steal a bolt from to use on the shifter.”

  “Oh. Any luck?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’ve got to pee.” She stood up and moved toward the door. He barely spared her a glance.

  “Don’t go far.”

  She slipped out and glanced around. The sun was up and burning brightly in the sky, burning off the chill of the night before and drying out the ground. She moved off to some bushes a short distance away. When she returned, her eyes to the ground, she saw something in the dirt near the entrance to the shed. Squatting down, she realized it was two black cable ties half covered in mud. She dug them out and looked at them. Then she bit her lip, stood and moved into the shed.

  “Ghost?”

  “Yeah, babe?” he asked, still tinkering with his bike.

  “Think these will work?” She held up the two black pieces of plastic.

  He looked up, his eyes zeroing in on them and narrowing.

  “Zip Ties? Let me see.” He motioned with his hand for her to bring them to him.

  She handed them over and watched as he looked from them to the shifter.

  “Goddamn, girl. I think they might just do the trick.” He quickly threaded them both through the hole where the bolt would go, connecting the two parts together. Then he looped the ties through and pulled them tight.

  She watched as he yanked the shifter up and down.

  “Fuck yeah.” He grinned back at her. “I think we’re out of here.”

  She grinned back.

  “Let’s go before your friends roll out of bed and come lookin’ for you again.”

  With that her smile faded, and she nodded.

  CHAPTER FIVE