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

by Nicole James

  Shades nodded. “I know. We’ve all been watching our backs ever since. But Cole says Wolf’s gonna pull through. I guess it was touch and go there for a while. He lost a lot of blood. But he’s conscious now and stable.”

  Ghost lifted his chin to all the club chapters that were still there at the campground when most clubs would have pulled out on Sunday. “That why everyone’s still here?”

  “That and you being missing, asshole.”

  Ghost grinned. “Sorry about that, man. Couldn’t be helped.”

  “You lose your fuckin’ phone?” Griz snapped.

  “Battery died.”

  “You couldn’t borrow one to make a fuckin’ call into your club?” Shades asked.

  Ghost shook his head. “We were holed up in a shed in the middle of nowhere.”

  Shades gave him a look. “And why was that?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Then why don’t you fuckin’ start at the beginning?”

  “Like I said, Jessie’s got some info that the club’s gonna find useful. Butcher’s gonna want to hear it.”

  “Why don’t you run it by me first. Then we’ll decide whether to bring it to Butcher. I’ve got my doubts that little girl could possibly have any information that would be significant.”

  “This is.”

  Shades brows shot up. “Then fuckin’ tell me.”

  Ghost twisted the bottle-cap off his beer and pitched it into the fire. Then he took a long swig, turning the bottle up. Then he dropped the bomb.

  “Death Heads planted a man inside the DKs Atlanta Chapter.”

  That got a ‘brows raised’ stunned expression from his VP. “You’re shittin’ me?”

  “Nope. They’re plannin’ to take Georgia. Gonna take the DKs down from the inside out. And get this, supposedly we’re next.”

  “Hell, it’s no secret they’ve been trying to push across the state line. Thought we had that handled.”

  “Yeah, we did. So I guess they decided to change tactics. Swung their focus to Georgia first, but we’re next on the agenda. Guaranteed.”

  “And this all comes from her?” Shades gave a chin lift toward the shed.

  “Yup.”

  “You wanna fill me in on how she obtained this info?” Shades asked.

  “She overheard it.”

  “She overheard it?” Shades asked with an incredulous tone.

  “Straight from Florida’s mouth.”

  “Florida? Who the hell is Florida?” Hammer asked.

  “President of the Death Head’s Jacksonville Chapter,” Butcher filled him in as he walked up overhearing the talk.

  Ghost’s eyes swung to his President. The man had grey hair, a beard and wire rimmed glasses. He had always reminded Ghost of Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead. Right now the man’s eyes were boring into his.

  “How in the hell was this girl in any position to overhear anything, son?”

  “Wrong place at the right time.”

  Butcher gave him a long look and raised one brow. “Or wrong place at the wrong time for her.”

  “Yeah,” Ghost agreed with him.

  “They know she knows?” Butcher asked.

  Ghost nodded. “Yup.”

  “They know she’s with you?”

  “They saw me, and they’ll remember my face. But I don’t think they got a look at my cut.”

  “You don’t think?”

  Ghost lifted his hands, shrugging. It was the best answer he could give. “They ain’t showed up here yet, have they?”

  Butcher let out an aggravated breath. “Why don’t you start at the beginning.”

  “Picked up a nail in my tire—”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know all that part. Get to the part where you hooked up with this chick I heard tell about. The one with all the information and the Death Heads on her ass,” Butcher snapped.

  Boot and Slick, the chapter’s Treasurer and Sargent At Arms walked up. They were two of the older members in the chapter, and two of Butcher’s most trusted brothers. Butcher nodded for Ghost to continue.

  He explained the whole story from the moment he first saw Jessie until they rolled into the Evil Dead camp.

  Butcher shook his head. “What a cluster-fuck.”

  Ghost watched him turn away, run his hand over his beard, and then turn back to snap, his eyes on Ghost, “You believe it?”

  “Which fuckin’ part?” Shades asked Butcher with a huff that showed his exasperation with the whole mess.

  Butcher’s eyes swung to Shades. “Any of it. All of it.”

  “She wouldn’t lie. Not to me,” Ghost bit out.

  Butcher’s head came up, his brows raised. “Oh. Is that so? You sure about that?”

  Ghost nodded once. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

  “You trust her?” Shades asked.

  Ghost nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

  “With your life? With the lives of your brothers?” Butcher added, piercing him with a look.

  “I do,” Ghost replied tersely, his jaw tight. The air was thick with tension until finally Shades broke it. He looked over at Butcher.

  “How do you want to handle this?”

  Butcher didn’t hesitate, his eyes drilling into Ghost’s, he replied, “We use her and what she knows to make a deal with the DKs.”

  Ghost knew what that look meant. His loyalties were with the club, and if he had a problem with this, he’d better get ‘right’ with it, because he had no choice.

  Shades cut his eyes to Ghost, and Ghost could read what that look meant. He was wondering if his brother was going to be okay with it. He wasn’t. Not really. But he would have to be. Because when it all came down to it, he and his club were the only thing standing between her and the Death Heads. That deal could be the only way to keep her safe from them. And to get his club behind helping her, she had to be of some use to them. Making that deal would do it.

  “We roll out tomorrow, first light. San Jose Chapter is going to wait for their guy to get released. Now that the crowds have left, they’re gonna hole up in a motel until he’s fit to travel.”

  “How long’s that gonna be?” Griz asked.

  Butcher’s gaze swung to him. “Couple more days.” Then his eyes returned to Shades. “Make sure the boys are ready to roll out in the morning.”

  Shades nodded. “Will do.”

  Butcher stalked off with Boot and Slick at his back.

  Shades looked to Griz and Hammer. “Give us a minute, boys.” After they walked off, his gaze swung to Ghost. “You gonna be good with this?”

  “Gonna have to be, won’t I?”

  Shades nodded, gazing out over the landscape. “She tell you everything? You got a good feeling about that?”

  Ghost stared at his VP. But Shades was much more than just his VP, more than just a brother, he was also a close friend. They’d joined up about the same time and come up through the ranks together. He was closer to Shades than to any of the others.

  Shades gaze swung back to his.

  It was Ghost’s turn to shift his eyes to the horizon. He had to be honest with Shades. “Not sure she’s tellin’ me everything, but I believe the information she’s givin’ us is true. She wouldn’t lie about that.”

  “Hope not. It won’t go well if she is,” Shades gave him the warning he didn’t need, and then took a swig of his beer. “You want to tell me about her?”

  Ghost took a long pull off his own beer. “Not really.”

  Shades gave him a look.

  Ghost grinned. “But I guess I will.”

  “What I can’t figure is why I’ve never heard about her in all this time. Not once, brother. What the hell? Thought I knew you.”

  “You know me, bro.”

  “Then how is it you have a stepsister I never knew about?”

  “My dad’s second wife. She had two kids, Jessie and her brother, Tommy. They moved in with us when I was thirteen.”

  Shades nodded, but remained quiet waiting for Ghost to continue.r />
  “By the time I was hanging around the MC, I’d already moved out of the house. Tommy joined the military. My father divorced Collette not long after that.” He took a sip of beer. “Tommy was killed by an IED, and they shipped his body home. I was in lockup awaiting trial on that bullshit assault charge, and I missed the funeral. When I got out, I visited his grave, and Jessie was there. She barely would look at me though.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “She was devastated. Pissed at the world. Next I heard she’d dropped out of school. Two months before graduation, can you believe that? Then she left town with some loser. Anyway, I lost touch with her after that.”

  Shades studied him, his eyes narrowed. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “What aren’t you tellin’ me?”

  Ghost blew out a breath and rolled his eyes. “Let it go, man.”

  Shades grinned. “I see. So that’s how it is.”

  “We had a moment. Once. A long fuckin’ time ago. It shouldn’t have happened, and it never happened again.”

  “By ‘a long fuckin’ time ago’ you mean when?”

  Ghost tossed his beer bottle in a nearby oil drum. It shattered with a loud crash. “She was sixteen, I was twenty-one. And before you say anything, it wasn’t much more than a kiss.”

  Shades grinned. “I didn’t say a word.”

  “Yeah, but you were thinkin’ it.”

  “She ain’t sixteen anymore, bro.”

  “No, she’s not.” Ghost sure didn’t need Shades to point that out. He was well aware.

  “I see you’ve noticed.” Shades chuckled. “Half the club’s noticed, too, just so you know.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I take it you’re putting her off limits.”

  “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

  Shades grinned. “Noted. I’ll pass the word.”

  “I’m gonna take a hot fuckin’ shower and hit the sack.”

  “Enjoy it, bro, cause I see a bunch of cold showers in your future.”

  Ghost could hear Shades laughter as he walked away. Fuck if that wasn’t the truth.

  Ghost stood beside the empty bunk next to the one where he’d put Jessie at the end of the row. She was sound asleep. He pulled off his cut and tossed it up on the top bunk. Then he collapsed on the bottom bunk, exhausted. There were a couple of old-timers crashed on the other side, snoring away, but for the most part the shed was empty. And he could see why, with the rain burned off, the shed was hot as hell.

  He turned his head and looked over at Jess. She had her back to him, but he could see the outline of her body. She’d kicked off the cover of the sleeping bag in the heat, and his eyes strayed down over the curve of her hip.

  Shit.

  He turned his head and locked his eyes on the underside of the top bunk. He couldn’t allow himself to get any ideas about her and that sweet body of hers. He needed to remember how much she was going to hate him when she found out his club was going to put her in the middle of an alliance with the DKs.

  It was a long time before he finally fell asleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jess awoke when the bunk shook. She opened her eyes to see Ghost standing over her.

  “Wake up, Jess. Roll-out’s in ten minutes.”

  She frowned up at him, squinting her eyes. “Roll-out?”

  “The club is pulling out. Heading home.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Seven.”

  She groaned.

  He grinned. “Not a morning person?”

  She sat up, rubbing her face. “I need coffee.”

  He held out a Styrofoam cup. “Saved you the last of it.”

  She looked up at him as she took it. “Oh, God. Thank you.”

  He leaned against the top bunk.

  “We’re gonna be ridin’ hard today. I want you in the chase van with the prospect.”

  She looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Why can’t I ride with you?”

  He shook his head. “Can’t take the chance of you being seen on the back of my bike as the club rolls out of town, brat.”

  Oh. Right.

  “You mean by the Death Heads?” For a moment she’d forgotten that just because Ghost made her feel safe, it didn’t mean she wasn’t still in danger.

  “Exactly. You ridin’ in the van is the safest place for you.”

  She blew out a breath knowing he was right.

  Ghost grinned. “I see you get my point.”

  “I get it.”

  “Good, then we won’t have any trouble, will we?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. You want me in the van, I’m in the van.”

  “You always this agreeable in the morning?” he asked with a grin.

  She rolled her eyes. “No, but you brought me coffee, so I’m being nice.”

  “Coffee’s the golden ticket, huh? I’ll have to remember that.”

  “It is this morning,” she murmured with her lips to the rim of the cup. She pushed the sleeping bag aside and stood up, catching Ghost’s eyes as they swept down her to take in the outfit she was still wearing. She stood barefoot in her same shorts and his flannel shirt. Her boots sat at the side of the bed.

  “Maybe somewhere along the line we can pick you up a pair of jeans.”

  She nodded. “That would be good.”

  He rolled up his sleeping bag and tied it up while she drank down the last of the coffee and slid her boots back on. When he was finished knotting the last knot, he tucked the roll under his arm.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded and followed him out.

  As they passed the bonfire that one of the men was pouring water on, Jessie noticed a big biker that looked like a Viking, and had California on his bottom rocker, kick the leg of another who was still sound asleep in his bedroll, snoring away.

  The passed out man sat bolt upright, mumbling, “Fuck your mother.”

  The other biker snorted, “Yeah, in your dreams is the only place that’s gonna happen, Green. Get up, bro.”

  “You save me some coffee, Red Dog.”

  “No, I didn’t save you any fuckin’ coffee, you dumbass. Get up.”

  Jessie couldn’t help but smile at their banter.

  “Green?” she asked Ghost as he pulled her along.

  He glanced back at the man, then replied to her, “He’s Irish. It’s a long story. Don’t ask.”

  Ghost continued on, pulling her toward the field where lines and lines of motorcycles sat gleaming in the early morning sunlight. He moved through the maze of bikes to his and strapped on his sleeping bag. She saw his pack was already tied on the back. Everywhere she looked, men were doing the same thing, some already sitting astride their motorcycles, waiting patiently.

  When he was finished, he walked her over to a dark van. A young guy sat behind the wheel, his window rolled down and his arm hanging out, a cigarette in his hand.

  “Yammer, this is Jessie. She’ll be riding shotgun with you,” Ghost informed the kid. “Jess, Yammer.”

  “Hey,” she said lamely.

  The kid was her age, early twenties maybe, with sandy blonde hair and an eager to please grin. “Climb in, darlin’. Hope you don’t mind if I smoke. I’m tryin’ to quit, but it’s a bitch, ya know. You smoke? Don’t matter; I can toss it out if you want me to. I’ve only got a couple left in the pack, but I’ll share if you want one. You want one?”

  Jessie’s eyes slid to Ghost as she shook her head in the negative.

  Ghost grinned at her like he knew her time in the van with Yammer was going to be a trip.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s wired,” Ghost said by way of explanation. Then he walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. She climbed in, and he braced his hands on the frame and leaned in, his eyes on Yammer.

  “You fix my shifter?”

  “Yeah, man. Took care of it. You’re good to go. Ingenious temporary fix you came up with, by the way.”

  “That’d be Jessie who came
up with that idea.”

  The prospect’s eyes moved to her. “Really? Damn.”

  Ghost’s expression hardened, not liking the kid’s sudden interest. “Keep your hands to yourself, Prospect, you hear me? Or you and I are gonna have a problem.”

  Yammer nodded, raising his hands in the air. “Hands off. I got it. No problem.”

  Jessie lifted her eyes to Ghost’s, and he grinned. “We’ll stop at a truck plaza east of town to gas up. I’ll try to get you something else to wear there. And maybe, just maybe, you can get back on my bike there.”

  She nodded, making a silly face she hoped told him how thrilled she was to be stuck in the van with a wired up prospect. “Gee, thanks, that would be lovely.”

  He made a face back at her, then reached in and ruffled her hair before slamming the door and walking off towards his bike.

  The sound of a hundred bikes roaring to life reverberated across the field.

  Yammer sat forward with his forearms resting on the top of the steering wheel watching as the bikes all lined up and rolled out, two by two.

  “It’s a sight, ain’t it?”

  Jessie had to admit, it was quite a sight.

  She noticed several different states listed on the bottom rockers that passed them by, Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, Missouri, California, and Nebraska.

  “All the state chapters, they’re all traveling together?”

  “Yup. Except for the California brothers. They got a man in the hospital they’re waitin’ on. So they’ll be breaking off and relocating to a motel in town, way I heard it.”

  When the end of the line passed by, Yammer put the van in gear and pulled out onto the blacktop behind them. It was then Jessie noticed two guys; their bikes parked on the shoulder, holding up traffic so the entire MC could pull out together in one unbroken line. After Yammer pulled out, she saw one of the guys run back and lock a swinging iron gate with a chain as big around as her wrist, effectively closing up the property until the next rally, she supposed.

  She watched in her side mirror as the man ran to his bike, and he and the other biker gunned their throttles speeding to catch up with the line. A moment later they zoomed around them to take their places up ahead.

  As they rolled over hills and valleys, Jessie could see the long line of bikes riding two-by-two strung out at least a mile long. As their speed picked up, she was amazed at how perfectly they rode in such tight formation, mere feet between the back tire of the bike in front of them and their front wheel.