CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) (12 page)

BOOK: CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series)
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“You
sure?”

“Yeah.”
He nodded toward Crash’s beer. “You should finish that and get back.”

Crash
nodded.

Cajun
stumbled over.

“You
want to play pool, Cajun,” Green asked.

“I’ve been drinking all day.”

“Good, then we’re playing for money.”

 

*****

 

Crash pulled in his garage and called Shannon to send the elevator down.
After a few moments, it started rattling its decent. When he ascended and threw
open the gate, Shannon was nowhere to be found. He strolled through the loft,
glancing in the bedroom, bathroom, and finally headed up the stairs to find
Shannon sitting up on the roof.

She
twisted to look at him when she heard the door open.

“Hello,”
she greeted him with a smile.

He
moved toward her, coming around the side of her chair. “You okay?”

“I’m
fine.”

“What
the hell is that?” Crash asked, stopping dead when he saw what she was holding.
A skinny, orange tabby cat.

“A
kitten. Well, it’s barely older than a kitten.” She held the thing up to her
nose. “Aren’t you, Eddie?”

“Christ,
you’ve named it already?”

She
grinned, cuddling it to her. “Yup. I named him Eddie for Eddie Van Halen. I
name all my cats after famous guitarists.”

“All
your cats?”

“Um
hmm. I’ve had a Duane for Duane Allman, Buddy for Buddy Guy, Kenny for Kenny
Wayne Sheppard, Stevie for Stevie Ray Vaughn and Jimmy for Jimmy Hendrix.”

“Christ,
how many cats have you had?”

“A
few.”

“You’re
a nut.” He shook his head. “Where’d it come from?”

“The
alley.”

He
put his hands on the three-foot high wall that surrounded the roof and peered
over, down into the alley below. “How the hell did it get up here?” He watched
as Shannon just shrugged, all innocent like. Right. “It sure as hell didn’t
climb up the wall.” He folded his arms, leaned back against the wall and glared
at her.

She
stayed quiet.

“Shannon?”
His voice was full of warning.

Her
shoulders slumped. “Oh, all right, fine. I let him in.”

“You
let him in?” he asked, his brows raised.

“Yes,
what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s
wrong with it?” He stared at her a moment, dumbfounded, and then he started
ticking off his fingers. “One. You don’t need to be opening the door
downstairs. Two. How the hell long were you out there? And three. I don’t want
a damn cat.”

“Oh,
come on. Please, Crash. He’s just an itty-bitty baby. And he’s half starved.
His mother must have abandoned him, or got run over by a car or something.”

Crash
closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. It didn’t work. When he opened his
eyes, he was still pissed off, and the cat was still there. He tried logic on
her. “You know, he’s gonna snag all your sweaters and leave cat hair all over
your pants.”

She
didn’t look like she was falling for it.


Come on
, Princess!” he growled in
frustration.

“Crash,
I’ll take care of him. I swear.”

“I’m
betting your servants took care of all your cats. I’m betting
you’ve
never taken care of anything in
your life. Why start now?”

“Ha.
Ha.”

Argh.
“Fine. But I’m not taking care of the damn thing.”

She
was all smiles. “Thank you, Crash.”

“Yeah?
Well, hold your appreciation for tonight.”

“Tonight?”
She looked at him wide-eyed and innocent, as if
that
were possible.

“Yeah.
Later tonight you can get naked and show me how grateful you are.” He stomped
toward the door, slamming it behind him. He heard her call his name worriedly
as he stomped down the stairs. She better be worried, because he was pretty damn
sure he was only half-joking.

She
followed him inside.

He
moved toward the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he pulled out a beer. Shannon
appeared with the kitten. She dropped it to the floor, where it looked up at
him and meowed. Great. He shook his finger back and forth. “Na. Na. Na. Don’t
look at me, fur-ball.” He pointed at Shannon. “There’s mama.”

Meow.

Crash
took a pull off his beer and glared at Shannon. “Well, have you fed it?”

“It’s
not an ‘it’. It’s a ‘he’. And yes, I fed Eddie. He had a can of your tuna
fish.”

“Uh-huhn.
So you’ve fed the
cat
. You gonna feed
me?

“Umm.”
She glanced past him to the stove. “Well, umm. I hadn’t really thought about it.
Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,
Shannon. It’s six o’clock. I’m hungry.”

Her
hands went to her hips. “Well, I had no idea if you’d even be back for dinner.
It’s not like you keep me informed. You walk out the door, and I’m just
supposed to know when you’ll be home and have dinner magically ready?”

“Magically?”

“You
know what I mean.”

“Yeah,
Shannon, you’re supposed to have dinner ready. Millions of women do it every
day.”

“Married
women.” She motioned between them. “We’re not married.”

He
took a step toward her. “Thank Christ for that!”

“Oh!
You’re insufferable.” She stomped her foot.

“Quit
acting like a child. You did agree to this set-up, Princess.”

“God!
Stop calling me that.”

“Princess.
Princess. Princess.”

“Now
who’s acting like a child?”

“Babe,
make dinner.” He strode past her to the couch and flung himself on it. Picking
up a remote, he aimed it at the large flat screen television mounted on the
brick wall and flipped through the channels until he found a game.

 

Shannon
pulled the cupboards open and perused the options.

About
an hour later, she’d pulled together a meal. Setting the bar with two place
settings, she dished them both up. “Your meal’s ready, your highness.”

When
he didn’t respond, she glanced over toward the couch. Frowning, she strolled
over to him. He was stretched out on the couch on his back, one leg on the
cushion, the other leg bent at the knee, his boot on the floor. His hand, still
holding the remote, lay on his chest. He was out like a light. “Crash,” she
whispered.

He
didn’t move.

She
wasn’t sure what possessed her, but her hand lifted, and she brushed the hair
back from his forehead. He looked so peaceful in sleep. Her gaze took in his
features. The strong cheekbones, the slight beard growing along his jaw, the
dark brows over his eyes, the crease lines radiating out from his eye. “Crash,”
she whispered again and stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers.

He
licked his lips and turned his head. Sucking in a deep breath, his eyes opened.
“Hmm. Babe. I guess I dosed off.”

“Dinner’s
ready.”

He
glanced past her toward the bar with the two plates, steam rising from them,
and then he swung his leg to the floor and sat up. “Yeah, okay. Let me go wash
up.”

Shannon
stepped away.

A
few minutes later, he joined her at the bar. Sitting down, he looked at what
she’d made. “Smells good, babe.” With that he dug in. They ate in silence for a
while.

The
cat curled around the legs of their barstools, meowing up at them. Shannon
dropped it a piece of food. It sniffed at it, and then meowed up at her. Crash
glared down at it and shoveled more food in his mouth. Scooping Eddie up, she
cuddled him to her lap. Crash watched it out of the corner of his eye. And then
it stretched its little front paw out and settled it on Crash’s leg.

Shannon
watched as his eyes dropped to the kitten who climbed over from her lap to his.
It cuddled against him and started purring.

Crash’s
eyes moved to Shannon, and then his hand dropped to the kitten, and his large
fingers curled in around its ear, scratching softly. The purring intensified. A
small smile formed on Shannon’s mouth.

The
game that Crash had been watching on the flat-screen had ended, and the local
news had come on. Something in the story caught his attention, and he twisted
to look at the report. Shannon’s eyes followed, and there before her on the
screen was a picture of herself.

Crash
was off the barstool in a flash, grabbing up the remote and turning the volume
up.

 

The missing heiress was last seen
Friday. Her car was found abandoned along with her cell phone at a local mall.
Police have no leads at this time. And now in other news…

 

Crash
aimed the remote at the screen, flicking it off. He tossed the remote to the
table and spun on her. “This is bad, babe. They’re gonna be looking for you all
over town. Thought you told them you were okay?”

“I
did. I told them everything you said.”

“Then
what’s this about? Why would they report you missing?”

Shannon
swallowed. Nicklaus. It had to be him. He was controlling her father, trying to
force her hand. “My father is calling my bluff. Trying to force me home.” Crash
looked at her like he could read between the lines. Like he knew. But he didn’t
know, and she couldn’t let him find out. He’d dump her back home so fast, her
head would spin.

“What’s
going on here, Shannon? The truth.”

“You
obviously haven’t dealt with men like my father.”

“Men
like your father?”

“Powerful
men. Men who are used to getting their way. Men who don’t sit well with
rebellion.”

He
just stared at her, and she could see him mentally trying to put the puzzle
pieces together. But he’d never get the whole picture, because he didn’t have
all the pieces. His jaw clenched, and then he spoke. “You need to put a call in
to the police now. Explain this is all a misunderstanding. That you are fine, a
legal adult and not in the control of your father any longer.”

She
wanted to argue, but she knew it was the only way. Nodding, she agreed, “Of
course.”

A
second later, Crash’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and put it to
his ear. “Yeah.” His eyes came to hers. “Yeah, I saw it.”

She
watched him bite his lip and look at the ceiling.

“I’ll
handle it, Cole.” He ended the call, tossing the phone down on the table. Then
he stalked past her toward the kitchen drawer. She watched him pull out another
disposable cell phone. He turned, holding it out to her. “You don’t tell them
where you are. You give them nothing except information to confirm your
identity, and then you get off the phone. You hear me?”

She
nodded, taking the phone.

Crash
stood over her while she made the call. When she was done, he took the phone
and stalked up on the roof.

After
the door slammed, she stared at it, hating that she’d put him in this position.
Thinking all over again that maybe she should leave. But where would she go?
Back home? Back to Nicklaus?

 
 
 

CHAPTER NINE

 
 
 

The
next morning, Natalie sat on a barstool in the Evil Dead Clubhouse. Mack was
next to her, his hand stroking her leg as he sipped his coffee. It was just
going on nine in the morning. Cole, Wolf and Red Dog were there as well. She’d
dropped by for a few minutes before she ran some errands. She had an idea she
wanted to share with Mack. Turning to him, she announced, “I’ve been thinking
about organizing a girl’s weekend.”

“A
girl’s weekend? Like where? A trip to the wine country?” She was always trying
to get Mack to go with her to Napa Valley. Wine wasn’t his thing, and she knew he
couldn’t picture himself with that crowd.

“Nothing
that tame. I was thinking more along the lines of Vegas.”

“Vegas.”

“You’ve
heard of it, Mack. What happens in Vegas…” Wolf put in with a grin.

“Yeah,
I’ve heard of it, and what happens
doesn’t
always stay in Vegas.” His gaze swung to Natalie. “Not happening, lady.”

“What
do you mean, ‘not happening’?”

“I
mean you’re not going.”

“And
you’re sure as hell not taking Angel with you.” This from Cole.

“Mary
ain’t goin’,” Red Dog put in.

“Boys,
you’re overreacting. Guys have fun. Why can’t we girls?”

“Not
happening,” Mack replied.

Her
eyebrows rose. Just like that? He thought he could control her with two words? “We’ll
see.”

“Yeah,
and what we’ll see is that you’re not going. You can’t always get your way,
baby.”

She’d
leveled him with a cat-that-ate-the-cream grin. “Oh, I’ll get my way. I always
do.”

Mack
held her gaze a heartbeat, his eyes stone cold, and then he quietly ordered, “In
my office, now.”

She
watched his back as he stalked across the room. Throwing the door open, he
turned back to her, his arms folding across his chest as he watched her slide
off the barstool and walk across the room. Biting her lip, she walked through
the door. He slammed it, his hand resting on the door. His eyes leveled her.
“Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?”

She
just stared back at him. She’d obviously pushed his buttons, but she was beyond
caring. He’d pushed hers, too. Her chin lifted.

“Goddamn
it, woman. You can’t pull that shit. Not in front of them. I can’t have you
acting that way in front of the boys. You hear me?”

“Maybe
my being around is becoming a problem for you,” Natalie whispered.

“What
the hell are you talking about?” He prowled further into the room.

She’d
tried not to challenge him, tried not to disagree with him or argue with him in
front of the club, but she was a green-eyed, redhead after all and with that
came a quick Irish temper. Normally she was even tempered, level-headed, but he
could try the patience of a saint.

He
didn’t own her. He just thought he did. And she’d let him. She was as much to
blame for this predicament as he was. Cole had said something to her a while
ago, and it had been eating at her ever since. He’d told her the simple truth.
Mack hadn’t taken this relationship any further, because she hadn’t demanded it
of him. And he was right. She wondered if Cole also saw so easily the reason
why she hadn’t. It was because she was afraid what that next step would mean.

Terrified,
really.

But
she couldn’t go on like this, stuck in some kind of limbo. Not really his, not
afforded the respect of an ol’ lady, but not some cheap hanger-on either. What
did he want from her? Was he in so deep that he’d stop her from walking away?
Or would he let her go, let her walk out the door like she was nothing more
than the flavor of the month? They’d been together much longer than that, but
had they really ‘been together’? Did he see it that way? Did he see her as his?
The men seemed to think she got away with way too much shit, tossing attitude
that wouldn’t be tolerated by any other woman.

“I’m
not under your control. Not like they expect,” she elaborated with a nod of her
head toward the men outside the door. “It’s all about perception, isn’t it?
Can’t have them thinking I’m yanking your chain, can you?”

His
eyes narrowed. “Is that what you want, Natalie? A man so weak he could be led
by his dick? You’re in the wrong place, baby. And you’re sure as hell with the
wrong man, if that’s the case.”

“No,
it’s not what I want. It’s not what I think. Maybe you won’t admit it, but I
think that’s what
you
think. And more
importantly, it’s what you worry
they
think, isn’t it?”

When
he didn’t respond, perhaps so stunned by her words that he couldn’t respond,
she gave up. Spinning toward the door, she got three steps, before he was
across the room, yanking her back by the arm. He whipped her around and pushed
her hard up against the door.

Her
eyes flew open. He’d never manhandled her before.

His
arms caged her in. “Maybe I do. Maybe that’s my worry. And maybe something else
is my fault, too.”

“I
didn’t say it was your fault, I-”

He
cut her off roughly. “Quiet! It’s my turn to talk. And you’re going to listen.”

Stunned,
she stared up at him, her mouth snapping closed.

His
eyes dropped to her mouth and then back up to her eyes. “I’ve let you get away
with far more than I’ve ever let any broad get away with, with me. And, yeah,”
he nodded toward the door. “They see it. They watch us together. I think at
first you didn’t even realize. Now you’re starting to see, to understand you’re
different.”

“Maybe
I don’t want you to treat me different.”

“You
are different.”

She
huffed out a frustrated breath. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m so different,
you don’t know how to deal with me. I just know I don’t want to be in this
limbo anymore.”

“Limbo?”

She
couldn’t say the words. “Just let me go.” She pushed against him, pushing away
from the door. He pushed her right back, his hand over her breastbone. She
looked down at it.

“Look
at me.”

She
swallowed.

“Baby,
look at me.” She lifted her eyes to his. His hand slowly slid up her breastbone
to her throat to grasp her jaw. “What is it you want from me?”

“I
want to know what I mean to you.”

“Everything,”
he replied with no hesitation.

She
blinked. “It doesn’t feel that way.”

“How
does it feel?”

“If
I mean something to you-”

“Not
something, Natalie. Everything.”

“Then
why are we still stuck in the same spot we were in a year ago?”

He
reared back, staring at her. “You want my ink? Is that what this is about? You
want me to mark you as mine? You ready for that? You even know what that
means?”

“Maybe
not ink. Maybe a ring. Hell, Mack, we don’t even live together. There’s nothing
that says I’m yours.”

“I
say your mine.”

“Mack,
you think it’s that easy?”

“Yeah,
baby. It’s that easy.”

She
shoved against him again. “Let me go.”

“No.”

She
shoved again. “Yes, Mack. I’m done.”

“Done?
What do you mean you’re done?”

“Done.
D-O-N-E. Done.”

“I
say when we’re done, Natalie. And we are
not
done.”

“You’re
a possessive asshole.”

“Yeah,
and don’t you ever forget it, darlin’.”

“You
can’t control me. Hell, you can’t even control your own men.” The words were
out of her mouth before she could stop them. That got him. She watched the fire
in his eyes turn to ice in an instant.

“Say
again?”

Her
mouth clamped shut. Shit, she’d gone too far.

“Explain
that.”

She
shrugged. “Stuff goes on. You don’t know about all of it,” she confessed,
hoping he’d drop it.

“You
do not keep shit from me. You know something, you’d better tell me. Right
fucking now, Natalie.”

“Mack-”

“Now.”

She
swallowed, “Crash has been…”

“Crash
has been what?”

“Giving
protection to a woman.”

He
frowned, “What?”

“That
woman on the news last night, the missing heiress. She’s with Crash.” His eyes
blazed, and then the next thing she knew she was flung to the side, the door
slammed open against the wall, and he was gone.

She
closed her eyes. What have I done? She had to fix this. She had to stop Mack.
Running after him, she caught up with him in the common room.

“Mack,
let me go with you,” Cole was saying.


You’ve
done enough! Wolf. Dog. You’re
with me. Let’s go.” Mack stalked toward the door. Wolf and Red Dog cast Cole a
look and then following their President out.

She
ran after him, but Cole caught her upper arm in a vise grip, demanding, “What
the hell did you tell him?”

She
looked up into his hot glare. He knew she’d told Mack. Boy was she in trouble,
but she couldn’t worry about that now. She had to stop Mack. “I’m sorry,
Cole.”
 
She pulled free and ran after
Mack. Dashing out the front door, she found him lifting his bike up off his
kickstand. She rushed over to him, her hands grabbing the handlebars. “Mack,
wait.”

“Those
little shits think they can run this shit behind my back. First Cole. Now
Crash. Well he’s about to see me run her ass off.”

“Don’t
you dare go there with that crap.”

“Baby,
let go.”

“Mack.”
Her voice held warning.

“Jesus
Christ.”

“This
girl is the reason my Angel is not buried in hospital debt. Her generosity is
the reason she can breathe easy. You are
not
going to ‘run her ass off’.”

“Natalie,
let go.”

“Swear
to God, Mack. You do, and we are through.”

“Thought
you just told me we were through.”

“You
know I didn’t mean it.”

He
stared at her, and then he said, “Let go.”

She
did, and he hit the throttle and pulled out, roaring off the lot.

Cole
slammed out of the door, and Natalie twisted to see he had his cell phone to
his ear. She heard him bark into it, “He knows. He’s on his way.” Snapping the
phone shut, his eyes drilled into hers. “Swear to God, if you weren’t related
to me…and my wife didn’t love you…and my kids didn’t love you…and I didn’t love
you…”

“You’d
what?”

“Beat
your ass, woman!”

 

*****

 

Crash
snapped his phone closed, “Shit!” He stood up from the couch where he’d spent
the night. He paced the room.

Fuck.

This
was not good.

What
the hell was Mack going to do about her? Crash thought about getting her out of
there before Mack showed up, but hell, she had nowhere to go. Best to just let
Mack come, blow his temper, and hopefully afterward he’d be reasonable.

Crash
walked over to the door to the bedroom. He swiped the paperclips aside that
Shannon had painstakingly rehung. Looking at the bed, he took in the sight of
her sleeping. It never failed to stir him, the sight of her in his bed. “Shannon.”

The
kitten looked at him from its spot curled up on the bed next to her and meowed.

She
stirred slightly, but her eyes remained closed. “Shannon. Babe, wake up.”

This
time her eyes fluttered open, and then she yawned and stretched. “Morning.”

“We
got company coming. Get dressed.” He let the paperclip strands drop and went to
make coffee.

 

He
was on his second cup when he heard the pipes rumbling up the street. Getting
up from the island, he strode over to the security console and punched in the code
to raise the steel door. Then he sent the elevator to the ground floor.
Strolling back to the island, he sipped his coffee and waited, listening to the
sounds of not one, but three bikes roll in.

Fuck.

He
heard the bikes shut off, and then the gate of the elevator slam shut. Its
gears strained and creaked as it rose to the second level. He looked over at
Shannon who was leaning back against the sink, her legs crossed at the ankles.
She looked cute as hell dressed in a pair of black yoga pants and a hot pink
racer-back tank. Her hair was up in a messy twist, and a coffee mug was
clutched in her hand. The only giveaway of how nervous she was, was the way her
foot was bouncing up and down like she was on speed.

Crash’s
eyes flew back to the elevator as Mack threw the gate open and he, Wolf and Red
Dog walked in.

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