CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) (22 page)

“We’re
gonna have to have it shipped express. It’s gonna cost a whack, Angel,” Crystal
pointed out.

“Serves
him right,” was all Angel replied.

*****

Crash
and Cole stood at the bar in the clubhouse.

“How’s
Shannon?” Cole asked.

“When
I left?” Crash smiled. “Cussing’ me up one side and down the other, I’m sure.”

Cole
chuckled.

Crash
took a sip of coffee from his mug. He looked over at the table where Mack sat
talking with Jake and Shane. Lowering his mug, he asked Cole, “You think he’ll
let ‘em prospect?”

Cole
glanced over at the table, then back to Crash. “Don’t see why not.”

Crash
nodded.

“Of
course they’ve got to be employed first. Gotta have that legit source of income
to keep the feds off our backs.”

“Yeah.
Wolf said something about maybe having a spot for them. It’d be something, at
least till they got settled.”

“Speaking
of Wolf, he was supposed to get Shannon a seat. Angel gave me hell yesterday
when she saw your girl was ridin’ the fender.” Cole glared at Crash, letting
him know he blamed him for that.

Crash’s
jaw clenched. “Where the hell is Wolf? He should’ve been back by now.” He
glanced at the clock above the bar.

Cole
grinned. “You timin’ him?”

“Hell,
yeah,” Crash snapped. “And quit callin’ Shannon, my girl. She ain’t my girl.”

“You
don’t like her? Here I thought you were gonna have her waiting on you hand and
foot. Wasn’t that the bet? Do I get my hundred bucks yet?”

“Deals
not over yet. There’s still time.”

“Yeah.
Okay.” Cole tried to hold back a grin as he took a sip of his own coffee. “Thought
she acted fine when she was here the other day.”

“Yeah,
she’s cool, calm and pulled together on the outside—on the inside, she’s a hot
mess,” Crash grumbled.

“What
do you mean?”

“Shit
sets her off,” he shrugged, picking up a stir-stick and putting it in his
mouth, chewing on the end.

“Like
what?”

“Well,
like one day last week. We pulled in this parking lot, which already made her
edgy, because for some freaking reason parking lots freak her out. We went into
Burke’s, you know, that restaurant attached to the mall? Anyway, when we came
out, we’re walking toward the bike and this panel van pulls into the spot next
to the bike, and suddenly she’s freaking out. Pulling on my hand, refusing to
go another step. She’s backing up like I’m trying to take her to a six-dollar
hair salon.”

Crash
shook his head. “Then last night, we took the boys down to Lucky’s. Anyway, the
place got a little rowdy. A fight broke out in the parking lot as we were
leaving. I was getting her out of there. The cops had arrived, but there was
one guy they were having trouble with, so they ended up hitting him with a Taser.
Shannon completely lost it.”

“How?”
Cole asked with a frown.

“Froze
up, started shaking like an alcoholic on a two-day dry spell. I’m telling you,
she was having a full-blown panic attack. Took me a good twenty minutes just to
get her calmed down enough to be able to get on the back of the bike and ride
home.” Crash shook his head. “ I don’t know if it’s fear of this ex-boyfriend
of hers that gets her so frightened, but, brother, I got to tell you, it tears
my heart out to see her like that.”

“Jesus
Christ,” Cole murmured, remembering the story Shannon had told him that day
he’d had a drink with her at Marty’s years ago. He’d asked her how she’d gotten
taken, how she’d ended up three years earlier in the back of that panel van
they’d found her in, handcuffed and gagged, and about to be sold into white
slavery, before he, Crash and four other brothers had saved her and the other
five girls in that van.

He
still remembered what she’d replied. How she’d confessed that day at the bar of
how afraid she was,
still to that day
,
of walking across a parking lot.

He
could only imagine that a white panel van pulling up next to her was a major
trigger for a panic attack. And the asshole who’d taken her had used a stun-gun
on her, pulling her into the back of a panel van he’d parked next to her car.

Christ,
it was her worst nightmare all over again. Cole looked over at Crash. “You need
to talk to her.”

Crash
pulled the little red stir-stick that he’d been chewing on out of his mouth.
“Yeah? What do I need to talk to her about?”

“Ask
her about…” he looked away. “About the day she was taken.”

“There
something you need to share?”

“She
needs to be the one to tell you. It’s her story.”

“And
after she tells me this story, what then?”

“Then
you’ll know.”

“Know
what, Cole?”

Cole
looked Crash in the eye. “You’ll understand what you’re dealing with.”

“Christ,
you’re a cryptic son-of-a-bitch.” Crash downed his coffee and moved off to the
table where Mack sat with Jake and Shane.

Cole
watched his retreating back, knowing if anyone could help this girl through the
shit she was dealing with, it was Crash. Cole shook his head. Damn, he hated
when Angel was right.

*****

Nicklaus
Ralston sat in downtown San Francisco traffic in the back of a limousine, double-parked
on Market Street. A moment later a well-dressed gentleman climbed inside. The
man looked from Nicklaus to the other gentleman in the car who sat across from
them.

“Good
of you to join me, Collins,” Nicklaus said with a smile.

“You
didn’t give me much choice,” the banker stated, his eyes narrowing.

Nicklaus’s
smile widened. “I didn’t, did I?”

Collins
swallowed. “Your threats were-”

Nicklaus
cut him off with a wounded look. “I made no threats, Collins. I merely stated a
series of events that would possibly take place if I didn’t receive
your…cooperation.”

Collins
snorted. “A serious of events? Is that what you call it? Threatening to pull
your accounts. Threatening to use your influence to slander my name…”

“Now,
now, Collins. Don’t be so melodramatic. We’ve reached an agreement.” Nicklaus
nodded toward the file that Collins held. “If you manage to appease me with the
information I requested, they’ll be no need for such…unpleasantness.”

“I’ve
known Shannon Taylor since she was a child. Her family has done business with
this bank for years. Breaking this confidence isn’t easy for me.” Collins
glared at him.

Nicklaus
smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I understand completely. Would it assure
you if I told you I only have Miss Taylor’s best interests at heart? I intend
to marry the young lady. I’m worried she’s being led astray by someone who does
not have her best interests at heart, but rather is concerned only with her
fortune. Surely, you can understand my worry. She’s been reported missing. Her
own family is worried sick about her. Well, sir?” he cocked a brow, waiting.

Collins
hesitated, but reluctantly handed over the file.

Nicklaus
opened the folder, examining the file. His eyes flared before he glanced up at
Collins. “That will be all, sir. Thank you for your cooperation.”

The
banker exited the limo with all haste.

Nicklaus
handed the file to the other man in the limousine, his private investigator.
“Find out everything you can on a Mr. Cole Austin.”

The
private investigator took the file and flipped it open, studying the document
inside. His gaze lifted to Nicklaus. “Of course. I’ll get right on it.”

Nicklaus’s
head jerked to the door, his anger rolling off him. “Piss off.”

“Yes,
sir.” The detective exited the limousine.

Nicklaus
waved the driver on. His eyes stared unseeing out the window as the city
streamed past, and he silently fumed. Was there another man in Shannon’s life?

Who the bloody hell was Cole
Austin?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Shannon
was just heating the garlic bread, when Crash, Jake and Shane trooped in. She
pulled the oven mitts off and lifted her wine glass to her lips as she turned
to look at them. God bless Angel for including the bottle of wine with her bag
of dinner ingredients. Beer was okay, but she’d missed her wine. It was
something Crash didn’t have in his loft. She had a feeling he wasn’t really a
wine connoisseur.

“Damn,
something sure smells good,” Shane commented, sniffing the aromas coming from
the oven.

Crash
approached her. She couldn’t help but let her eyes sweep the length of his
tall, muscular body. His broad shoulders never failed to kick-start her pulse.
He stopped in front of her. “You cook, babe?”

She
nodded, a small smile on her face. He tried to reach around her to pull the
oven door open and see inside, but she took a quick side-step blocking him.
“It’s not ready yet.”

His
arm dropped, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His eyes dropped to
the wine glass in her hand, and he frowned. “Did you go out?”

She
shook her head. “Nope.”

“Where’d
the wine come from?”

“Angel
brought it over.”

“Angel,
huh?” He lifted his chin as if he’d figured it all out. “She cooked.”

“No,
I cooked.”

“Is
that her stuffed shells I smell?” Now he really wanted in that oven.

She
pushed him back. “Quit. You’ll eat when it’s ready.”

“When’s
that gonna be?” He acted like a kid wanting his ice cream. She smiled.

“Go
wash up. It’ll be ready in a minute.”

Taking
the wine glass from her hand, he took a sip. It surprised her when he didn’t
grimace or make a face. He just licked his lips and handed the glass back to
her. A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth, almost as if he could read her
mind and knew she’d expected him to be unable to appreciate a fine bottle of
wine. Instead he asked, “I got time for a quick shower?”

“I
suppose. A quick one.” She lifted her brows.

“Yes,
ma’am.” He headed off, but stopped two steps into the living area. She watched
as his eyes took in the place as he noticed for the first time since walking in
that she’d cleaned up. He turned back to her, and his brow lifted. “Babe? You
do this?”

She
nodded.

He
walked back to her, slid his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her to
him. A second later, she felt his lips press against her forehead in a quick
kiss. Pulling back he looked in her eyes. “Thank you.”

She
stood there in a daze as he turned and walked away.

“Mind
if I wash up in the kitchen sink?” Jake asked, breaking the spell she’d fallen
under.

She
whirled, her cheeks flaming. “Of course not. Go right ahead.”

He
stepped forward. Squirting a bit of dish-soap into his palm, he began lathering
his hands and forearms up to his elbows. Shane nudged him to the side and did
the same. Jake finished up rinsing off the soap and stood there with his arms up
like a surgeon ready to operate.

Shannon
grinned and tossed him a dishtowel.

He
caught it and laughed. “Thanks.” When he was done, he tossed it in Shane’s
face.

“Hey,
asshole.”

“Watch
your mouth,” Jake snapped.

“It’s
all right. It’s nothing I haven’t heard in spades around these guys,” Shannon
insisted.

“That
may be, but that doesn’t make it right, and he knows better,” Jake nodded
toward Shane.

Shannon
laughed. “Would you boys like a glass of wine with your dinner?”

Shane
nodded. “That’d be real nice, ma’am.”

“Can
we help you?” Jake asked.

“You
can get the dishes out of that cabinet there and set them out on the bar. We’ll
eat there, since Crash doesn’t have a dining room table.” She turned and put on
the oven mitts and pulled the glass baking dish out of the oven. Then she
pulled the hot garlic bread out.

“That
smells wonderful, ma’am,” Shane complimented her. “What can I help you with?”

“I
tossed a salad. It’s in the fridge. Could you get that, and I think there are a
couple of bottles of salad dressing in the door.”

“Sure
thing.” Shane turned and pulled the wooden salad bowl out of the fridge along
with a couple of bottles of dressing.

They
spread the items out on the island, while Shannon got out three more wine
glasses and some silverware. By the time Crash emerged from the shower, the bar
was set, and she was busy dishing out their helpings.

Crash
walked over and came up behind Shannon as she used a spatula to put a couple of
shells on Shane’s plate.

“Thank
you, ma’am,” Shane said.

“Enough
with the ma’am stuff. You’re making me feel old.” She smiled at him and picked
up another plate to dish Crash up a helping. Shane moved to the other side of
the bar and sat next to Jake, who was pouring himself a glass of wine.

Crash’s
hands settled on her hips, and he leaned over her shoulder looking at the food.
“Looks good. Truthfully, did Angel bring this over?”

Shannon
looked up at him, achingly aware of the warmth of his hands on her hips, and
the heat of his chest pressed to her back. “She gave me the recipe, but I did
all the work.” Their eyes caught as she turned to look up at him, and the empty
plate in her hand trembled. She scooped up a couple of shells and put them on
his plate. Handing it to him, she said, “There’s bread and salad.”

He
took the plate out of her hand and snatched a piece of bread out of the basket
she’d put it in. “This is real nice, Shannon. I’m starved. Thanks for doing
this.”

She
melted under his comment, her smile brilliant. “You’re welcome,” she whispered.

“Come.
Eat.”

She
made herself a plate and moved to sit next to him. He shoveled in a bite,
chewing. She waited on pins and needles for his reaction, scared to death she’d
messed it up somehow. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she asked, “How is
it?”

He
looked over at her and smiled. “It’s good, babe. You did good.”

She
let out a breath and reached for her wine glass.

“
You may not be
totally useless after all.
Maybe there’s hope for you yet, Princess.” Before she could get angry, he
winked and gave her a dazzling smile.

That
evening Jake and Shane took their packs and headed out after thanking her for
an amazing home-cooked meal. Crash explained to her that Wolf had found them a
place to stay. While Shannon would miss their banter, she was glad it would
just be her and Crash in the loft. It was a little too small for her and all
that testosterone in a one-bedroom, one-bathroom loft.

After
they left, Shannon was cleaning up the dishes when Crash walked up to her. He
took the dinner plate out of her hand and set it on the counter, then he took
her by the hand and pulled her out of the kitchen.

“Crash,
what are you doing? The dishes-”

“They
can wait. We need to talk.”

Oh-oh,
she thought, that didn’t sound good. He led her out onto the roof. When they
got to the top, he didn’t release her hand, but led her over to the wall that
surrounded the edge. He leaned a hip against it and pulled her hand, tugging
her close. Shannon looked up into his face. He looked serious. He was starting
to make her nervous. “What is it?”

“The
other night at the bar,” he began, and she immediately started to pull back,
knowing he was going to talk about her panic attack, but his grip on her hand
tightened. “Don’t pull away.”

She
swallowed. “Please don’t.”

“Shannon,
you need to talk about it.” His tone was gentle, but still determined.

“No,
I don’t.”

“Yeah,
you do. I need you to. I need to understand what it is that’s upsetting you.”

“I’m
fine.”

“Sugar,
you’re a mess,” he murmured softly.

She
threw up the only defense she had. Her anger. “Who are you to tell me that? Who
are you to tell me anything?”

“Shannon-”
His voice was calm, soothing. “At first I thought this was about this boyfriend
you’re hiding from, but it’s not, is it?” When she didn’t respond he continued,
his voice soft, tender almost. “Shannon, I remember that day, years ago. I
haven’t forgotten. The first time I laid eyes on you, you were handcuffed in
the back of a panel van. Is that what the other day was about…the van? Is that
why it upset you so?”

She
felt stricken, terrified on the inside of bringing it out in the open. “You’re
so full of questions, aren’t you?” she snapped nastily and watched as Crash let
her attitude roll right off him.

“Lucky
for you, I have nothing to do tonight but get answers from you.”

She
shook her head, pulling free of his hold and backing up. “
I don’t need you
analyzing me.”

Crash let out a deep breath. “I see what you’re doing, Shannon. You’re
putting up walls with the attitude.” He shook his head. “You ever trust me
enough to let me in, I swear I’ll never hurt you.”

She
stared at him with big, liquid eyes, wanting to believe him, afraid she
couldn’t.

“Sweetheart,
you need to talk about it. All of it. The van. The Taser. The fear that’s got
you freezing up with panic attacks and waking up with nightmares.” He
hesitated, and then asked, “It’s Ling, isn’t it?”

When
she didn’t reply, because she couldn’t, because her throat had closed up, he
kept going, his voice deep, low, soothing.

“Come
here, darlin’. Tell me. Say it. Whisper it, if that’s all you’ve got. Just
start.” He held his arms out. “I’ll hold you, baby.”

She
stared at him, her eyes dropping to the arms he held out to her, and suddenly
all she wanted was to have them wrapped around her. She moved to him, one step,
another, and then she felt those strong arms close around her, pulling her
flush against him, holding her tight.

“Baby,”
he whispered in her ear, brushing the hair back. “Tell me about the night he
took you.”

She
sobbed.

“There’s
nothing you can’t say to me. You know that, don’t you?”

She
nodded, her head tucked under his chin. “I…I was in college back then.”

He
rubbed her back. “You were young.”

“I
still should have known. I should have been more careful.”

“What
happened?” he whispered against her head.

“I
was on campus, leaving the library. It was late. I was walking across the
parking lot to my car. The van was there. It was parked next to my car. I…I
really didn’t pay any attention to it. I should have.”

“You
couldn’t have known.” He continued to stroke her back.

She
was pressed up against his strong chest, her arms wound round his waist. She
held tight.

“What
happened next?”

“I
was digging in my purse for my keys.” She shook her head. “I should have had
them out. I should have been paying attention to my surroundings.”

“Don’t
blame yourself, Shannon. Maybe there were things you could have done
differently, but it wasn’t your fault you were attacked. Don’t put that on
yourself.”

She
nodded, her head resting against his chest.

He
rubbed her back, his other hand cradling her head to him. “Tell me the rest.”

She
took a deep, shaky breath. “I didn’t see him. Suddenly he was there, behind me.
And then he…he put the stun-gun to me.”

“Christ,”
she heard Crash growl, his arms tightening. “I didn’t know, Shannon. God, the
other night…”

Now
that she’d begun to talk, the story poured out of her. “Sometimes I can still
feel that jolt stinging through my body.”

“Sweetheart,”
Crash murmured, his hand stroking her back.

“My
legs went out from under me. I hit the ground. I…I lost control of my arms and
legs. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t talk.” She broke down in sobs. “I knew what
was happening to me, but I couldn’t do anything to stop him.” She buried her
face in Crash’s chest and felt his arms holding her, his deep voice soothing in
her ear.

“Shannon,
baby. I’m so sorry.”

“He…he
pulled me into the van. The handcuffs, the gag…I couldn’t stop him. Oh, God, I
couldn’t stop him. It was like I was paralyzed.”

“Baby,
shh. I’m sorry I made you talk about it.”

“No,
I need to. You’re right.” She took another breath. “There were three girls
already in the van. It took him a couple hours to get the other two. I was so
scared, Crash. I was so scared.”

“You
feel my arms around you, Shannon? Hmm?”