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

by Nicole James

  Ghost roared back into the Evil Dead’s Sturgis campsite with Jessie on the back of his bike, her arms wrapped tight around him. They used it during the Sturgis annual rally for their national meet. It was a mandatory meet, and chapters from all across the country made the trip so the place was crowded with bikes and brothers.

  It was now Monday, and Ghost knew the club should have pulled out by now. Hell, he hoped they weren’t all still there just because of him.

  Fuck.

  He brought the bike to a stop and dismounted, eyeing his chapter President, VP and some of his brothers standing in a group. He looked back at Jessie as he was already heading toward them, ordering, “Stay there.”

  She gave an almost imperceptible nod. He caught her eyes moving uneasily around the campsite before he turned and strode toward his brothers, satisfied she’d stay put.

  “Well, goddamn. It’s about fucking time!” Butcher muttered as he looked over Shades shoulder. Shades, Griz, Boot and Hammer all twisted, looking behind them.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” Shades growled to Ghost once he’d stalked toward them. “You’ve been MIA for two goddamn days. I’ve got half the club out lookin’ for you!”

  “It’s a long story,” Ghost bit out.

  “We got time,” Griz replied with a glare.

  “And who the fuck is that?” Shades asked, lifting his chin towards the girl they were all now eyeing.

  Ghost looked back over his shoulder to where he’d left Jessie standing by his bike and muttered, “You ain’t gonna believe it.”

  Shades studied him, his eyes narrowing. “Try me.”

  Ghost grabbed the beer out of Griz’s hand and chugged it down, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, drawing the moment out, but in the end knowing he couldn’t avoid dropping this bomb, so he just spit it out. “My stepsister.”

  There was dead silence for a split second, and then Griz let out a bellow of laughter that continued on and on, grinding on Ghost’s last nerve. He could see even his VP was trying to hold back a grin.

  With his brows raised, Shades asked, “Your stepsister?”

  “Yeah,” Ghost gritted out, then turned to Griz. “And shut the fuck up.”

  That only made Griz laugh harder. Hammer choked on his beer, spewing it on the ground, unable to hold his own laughter in.

  Ghost ground his teeth together already anticipating the ribbing he was going to take from his entire chapter over this turn of events. Even now he could see them eyeing her up and down. Fuck. He was going to have to lay down the law and make it clear she was off limits to all of them.

  “And she’s here why?” Shades asked, not holding his grin back any longer.

  Griz began making thrusting motions with his hips as if in answer to Shades’ question, and even grunting along for added effect.

  Ghost slugged him in the shoulder. “It’s not like that, asshole.”

  Griz stopped the thrusting, but he was still grinning. “Not yet, maybe. But I’ll bet you’ve thought about it. Fuckin’ look at her. A hot stepsister, isn’t that every teenage boy’s dream?”

  “Grow up, dickhead.”

  “I’ll ask again. Why the fuck is she here?” Shades asked in all seriousness.

  “She’s in some trouble.”

  “Yeah? So? Since when did you grow a heart?” Hammer asked.

  “Fuck off, Hammer,” Ghost growled, but Hammer just grinned back.

  “And?” Shades snapped, drawing Ghost’s attention back to him.

  “And she’s got some information you’re gonna wanna hear.”

  Shades cocked an eyebrow as if he truly doubted that were possible. “Right.”

  “I’m not lyin’, bro. This could be big for the club.”

  Shades eyed her. “Get her settled, and we’ll fucking talk. And you better have a damn good explanation for being AWOL the last three days.”

  Ghost nodded.

  ***

  Jessie stood nervously by Ghost’s bike. She watched him talking with his other club members, then chug down a beer like she wasn’t left standing here waiting where he’d left her. What the hell?

  Had he forgotten about her that quickly?

  Then she noticed them all turn and look back at her, and a couple of them burst out laughing.

  Oh my God, they were laughing at her.

  Well, fuck that. She moved around the bike stalking straight for Ghost. He had another thing coming if he thought she’d stand there and be the butt of some joke.

  His head swiveled, and when he saw her moving toward him, and probably more likely the furious look on her face, he moved quickly to intercept her.

  He grabbed her by the arm and began tugging her in the direction of a huge metal shed.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Come on, brat.”

  She had no choice but to stumble along in his wake, her arm firmly locked in his grip.

  “What the hell? Let me go.”

  “No way, José. I know what you were about to do. I could read it all over your face, Jess.”

  “They were laughing at me.”

  “They weren’t laughing at you.”

  She snorted a disbelieving breath.

  “And you were about to let loose on them with that mouth of yours, weren’t you?”

  “Maybe,” she grudgingly admitted.

  He huffed out a laugh. “No maybe about it, sugar-pie. You’re in a mood.”

  “I am not. And don’t call me that.”

  He looked back at her with lifted brows.

  “Oh, all right, maybe I am, but I can’t help it. I’m tired and dirty and hungry,” she practically whined.

  “Well, if you’d give me half a second, I was about to fix that.”

  He continued pulling her along, turning when they got to the corner and moving around the side toward a big grill fashioned out of what looked like an old oil drum cut length ways and turned on its side. An old grizzled biker stood over the hot coals, turning burgers and brats with a silver tongs. He had two long graying braids, and a headband tied around his head. The bottom rocker on the back of his cut read, Louisiana.

  “Skeeter,” Ghost greeted.

  The old man looked over his shoulder. “Well look what the cat dragged in. Where ya been, boy?”

  “Had a bit of trouble.”

  It was then the old man’s eyes slid beyond Ghost to land on her. “Trouble, huh?”

  “Haven’t eaten in the last two days, Skeet. You gonna feed us?”

  He nodded. “I’ll feed ya, son. Grab a plate.”

  They both soon had plates piled high and were sitting at a picnic table away from the others. Jessie didn’t think that was by accident. Ghost seemed determined to keep her away from his club. Which was going to be impossible since they were everywhere. And she wasn’t sure if that was for her benefit or his. At the moment, she didn’t care. She was too hungry. She dug into her food like a starving person, which she was.

  Nothing had ever tasted so good, she practically moaned with pleasure, her eyes sliding closed. When she opened them, Ghost was grinning at her. Then he winked.

  “This is sooo good,” she said around a mouthful of food. “Willie Nelson over there sure can cook.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll tell him you said so. And do me a favor, don’t call him that to his face.”

  She grinned, still chewing. “If the shoe fits.”

  “Just don’t start shit, Jess, okay? Not everybody appreciates your mouth like I do.”

  She stopped chewing.

  He paused. “Okay, that came out wrong.”

  She grinned. “If you say so, Tonto.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  After they finished eating, he tossed their paper plates in the bonfire and led her into the shed, which she saw was a big cavernous space. It was also empty of people.

  Ghost began to talk as he walked her through the building.

  “The club built this place. It wasn’t much more than a place to get out of the rain wh
en it was first built. There’ve been a few upgrades over the years. Now we’ve got a bunch of bunks. They’re not much, just a place to unroll a sleeping bag out of the rain.”

  She noticed there were about ten bunk beds made out of cheap lumber lining each wall on either side of them.

  “Not nearly enough for everyone, but most of the guys sleep out under the stars anyway, so its all good. Another major improvement and favorite among the guys has been the recent addition of a shower room installed at the far end of the building.” He pointed toward where they were headed. “It’s got four stalls and best of all, hot water.” He waggled his brows.

  She followed him through a doorway. There were indeed four stalls on the right. On the left was a long counter with several sinks. She watched as Ghost leaned back against the counter and folded his arms, then nodded toward the stalls.

  “Take a shower. I’ll make sure nobody comes in.”

  She blinked. Was he joking?

  “Now?”

  “You do want a hot shower don’t you?”

  Her eyes slid to the right. A hot shower would be heavenly. But these stalls didn’t even have curtains. She supposed bikers weren’t shy. And at least she could be grateful it wasn’t one big communal shower. But still.

  “Ghost, you want me to take a shower? Now? With you just standing here?”

  He grinned and nodded toward the shower at the end. “Take the last one. I won’t watch.”

  “But…you’re just going to stand here?”

  “You do want me makin’ sure my brothers don’t come in, right?”

  Uh, yeah.

  “Jess. Take a fucking shower.”

  Oh, man. That sounded like a challenge. Something she’d never responded well to. She pursed her lips and flung her cross-bag on the counter with a bang. His eyes followed it and then returned to her, his brows lifting, but he said not a word.

  Her hands moved to the buckle of the chaps that fastened low on her hips. His eyes dropped to watch. She pulled them off and then tossed them on the Formica counter as well.

  His eyes bore into hers, waiting.

  She lifted her hand and made a twirling sign with her index finger.

  He grinned and grudgingly turned his back to her, grunting out a sigh.

  She wriggled out of her leather shorts and tossed them up on the counter as well. When she did, she saw his head turn a fraction of an inch and his eyes fall on the discarded clothing as she continued to toss piece by piece up on the counter.

  She unknotted his flannel shirt, pulled it off and flung it up there.

  Next her bra was added to the growing pile.

  And lastly, her panties, like a cherry on top. She saw the muscle in his jaw clench when she got to those, and she couldn’t help but smirk. At least she was having some effect on him. Maybe she could torture him just a bit in retaliation.

  She wasted no time moving into the far stall. Turning on the knobs, she soon had hot water shooting out the showerhead to cascade down her body. It felt wonderful. She grinned and moaned with delight, loud enough for Ghost to hear, knowing the sound would get to him.

  “Hmm, this is heavenly. The warm water running over my body feels so good.” God, she should get an Academy Award.

  She heard Ghost clear his throat.

  “That good, huh?”

  “Um hmm. I may never come out,” she purred, really rubbing it in.

  “I’m not standing here all night, babe, so move it along.”

  She grinned, knowing by the snap in his voice that she was really getting to him.

  She bent down and uncapped the body wash someone had left, bringing it to her nose. It had a manly scent that she actually kind of liked. She poured some into her palm and began washing. Then she shampooed her hair. As she was rinsing the lather out, she heard Ghost growl, “Get the fuck out, bro.”

  “What the hell, man?” a deep voice complained.

  “Move.”

  “Fuck.”

  Jessie panicked, crossing her arms over her chest and huddling against the divider, wondering what was happening. She heard a bang like a fist had hit the wooden wall, then some stomping.

  “Ghost?” she called hesitantly.

  “He’s gone. Hurry it up, brat.”

  For once she did as she was told, dropping the seduction scene and quickly rinsing off.

  A few minutes later she turned off the water and peeked out around the divider. “I, um, need a towel.”

  She watched as Ghost yanked his cut off to fling it on the counter, then ripped his tee over his head. Her eyes slid over his exposed chest. Good God, but he was beautiful. That was definitely not the body of a boy anymore. He was all thickly muscled man. Before she could regain her tongue to ask what he was doing, he tossed his tee shirt to her.

  “Here, use that,” he growled.

  She grabbed it up and looked down at it. “Are you serious?”

  “Hey, this ain’t the Hilton. There’s no towel service out here. It’s that or nothing.”

  She rolled her eyes and retreated back around the divider to dry off as best she could. When she was done, she peeked back out, holding his damp shirt in front of her.

  “I need my clothes.”

  Ghost was leaning against the counter, his booted ankles crossed and arms folded, his eyes on his boots. When she spoke, he lifted them to her, and then the corner of his mouth pulled up, and he challenged, “Then come get ‘em.”

  “Ghost!”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you hand them to me?”

  His brows went up. “That how you ask?”

  She rolled her eyes and gritted out, “Please.”

  He grinned, his arms coming unfolded as he rose to his feet. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He scooped up her clothes minus the chaps and strolled over to her. But instead of handing them over when she reached for them, he held them just out of her grasp.

  She glared at him as she tried to grab them.

  “Uh, uh, uh. Say thank you.”

  She huffed out a breath. “Fine. Thank you.”

  “Nicely.”

  She rolled her eyes, and then batted her lashes up at him with a sugary sweet smile, turning on the southern charm. “Why thank you, sugar. Aren’t you just sweet as pie.”

  He smirked down at her. “Darlin’, sweet is the last thing I am. And don’t try that game you were just playin’ with me again, understand?”

  “What game?” she played dumb, frowning.

  He lifted his chin toward the stall.

  “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about, sugar.” Then he gave her a cocky grin, kissed her on the nose and handed over her clothes. “And you’re welcome, you little smartass.”

  ***

  After getting Jess set up with a bunk and his sleeping bag from the gear he’d stashed in the shed earlier in the week, Ghost headed out to talk to his brothers.

  As he approached, Shades held out a beer toward him. “You get her fed, bathed and all tucked in?”

  Ghost glared at his VP’s smiling face. He knew the man was teasing him, so he let it slide.

  “Were those your chores when she was a little squirt?” Hammer added.

  Now, Hammer, on the other hand got a punch in the arm, which probably hurt Ghost more than it did Hammer, since the man was built like a brick-house with tattoo covered biceps as thick around as a Christmas ham. That wasn’t how he got his name though. No, he got the name Hammer because he nailed everything in sight. ‘Everything’, meaning any woman with tits and ass.

  “Oww. What, too close to home?” Hammer grinned.

  “Can we quit the juvenile fucking jokes now?” Ghost asked with a scowl.

  “Probably not,” Griz added with a grin. The man was six four, forty-eight years old and with his wavy blonde hair and beard, he looked like the lead character in the seventies TV show, Grizzly Adams. Which was how he got his nickname.

  “Okay, boys, cut the shit,” Shades admonished, taking a hit off his b
eer. Then his eyes swung to Ghost. “You want to fill us in on what information little sister could possibly have that’s of use to us?”

  Ghost nodded across the fire to where his chapter President, Butcher stood in what looked like deep conversations with the VP of the San Jose Chapter, a brother named, Cole Austin.

  “You sure you don’t want to wait until Butcher is free, so I only gotta tell this story once?”

  Shades growled, “Butcher’s got his hands full right now. Shit went down with one of Cole’s men while you were gone. In fact, I was worried it was somehow connected with you being MIA.”

  Ghost frowned. “What shit? With who?”

  “Wolf.”

  “Wolf? What happened with him?”

  “He was sliced up pretty bad. He’s in the ICU in Sturgis.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me. What happened?”

  “Got jumped by a sick motherfucker. A DK by the name of Taz.”

  “No shit? We get the motherfucker?”

  “Yeah. That’s been taken care of, and that is hush-hush.”

  Griz grinned. “You missed it, bro. We all went and pissed on his grave.”

  Hammer pointed to a tree on the other side of the campsite with a chuckle. “Using his cut for target practice.”

  Ghost glanced over. Sure enough, there was a Devil Kings’ cut with a bowie knife nailing it to a tree. He whistled and asked, “Do the DKs know Taz was killed? And by us?”

  “No, and we’re keeping it that way. As far as they know, he took off. He’s always been nomad, and those guys don’t live by anybody’s rules, so it’ll take a while before Big Ed realizes he’s missing. And that’ll be San Jose’s headache.”

  “So the Devil Kings aren’t starting shit with us?”

  Shades shook his head. “No. Cole claims it was a personal grudge between him and Taz. The fucker’s club wasn’t involved. Had no clue what he was up to.”

  “You sure?”

  “Well, I was worried when you turned up missing, but Cole assures me the grudge went back to some shit that went down between him and Taz years ago. Wolf just got in the way. Guess he was supposed to be some kind of sick message to Cole.”

  Ghost stared. “That’s messed up shit. How’s Wolf doing? Hell, I can’t fucking believe this. We were just with him at the tattoo shop.”