CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) (56 page)

He also introduced him to some of the other artists.

Crash had seen a variety of their work and was especially interested in
the different methods they used to sculpt with metal. He’d never known there
were so many techniques. It was like his world was opening up to him, expanding
his narrow view of what he currently did with his wrought iron, expanding his
possibilities, inspiring him in a way he hadn’t been inspired in a long fucking
time. It was exhilarating and humbling. Goddamn, he wanted to try this shit!

Ace looked over at him, and seeing the excitement in Crash’s eyes, he
grinned. “Wanna try it?”

“Hell, yeah!”

Ace jerked his chin up, motioning him over.

Late that afternoon Crash and Cole returned to Letty’s shop. Walking
back into the store, they could hear two feminine voices laughing and joking.
Moving toward the back of the shop, they found Letty and Skylar talking near
the cash register.

Letty had changed out of the overalls and into a pair of low riding
jeans, biker boots and a halter top that left her belly bare. Both wrists held
multiple strands of beaded bracelets, and there were more funky necklaces
around her neck. The hippie child look fit her.

Crash’s eyes moved to Skylar. His gaze moved over the girl that had been
his little sister’s best friend all through high school. She still wore her
dark silky hair long, almost to her waist. She, too, had low waist jeans, but
instead of a halter top, she had a simple white racer-back tank that hugged her
like a second skin. Her slender body had always been on the athletic side, but
her curves had filled out a little since he’d last seen her. She looked more
womanly than the girlish eighteen year old he remembered. Well, what did he
expect, it had been ten years. No biker boots for her, though, she wore a pair
of black high-heeled sandals. Skylar always did have a bit of class to her. Her
jewelry showed it to. The simple silver hoops in her ears and the matching
silver cuff at her wrist.

She turned to them, her eyes following Letty’s. He’d forgotten how
beautiful her blue eyes were, especially in combination with that gorgeous dark
hair of hers.

“Crash!” she yelled, moving toward him for a hug.

He squeezed her tight. “Damn, Skylar. Haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know. It’s been too long.”

He released her, stepping back. “You look gorgeous as ever, squirt.”

She grinned up at him, and then looked back at Letty. “Same old Crash.
Still calling me squirt.”

Cole stepped forward. “Remember me, Sky?”

She turned from Letty, and her eyes widened. “Oh my God! Cole!” She flew
into his arms next. “I can’t believe it. It’s been forever!”

He laughed, hugging her back. When he released her, he reached up and
ruffled the top of her head. “You coming to the party tonight, little sister?”

She looked back at Letty. “Umm, I don’t know.”

“She’s going,” Letty answered for her with a grin.

Crash pulled Skylar by the hand, stealing her away from Cole. “Come on, squirt,
you’re on my bike. Sorry, Letty, but not showin’ up at the club with my own
sister riding bitch on the back of my bike.”

“Yeah, yeah. I remember your stupid rule about that.”

Cole grabbed Letty’s hand. “Come on, girl. You’re with me. I don’t mind
you wrapping those long thighs around
me
,”
he teased.

Twenty minutes later, they rolled up to the clubhouse of the Birmingham
chapter of the Evil Dead. It was buried back in the poor neighborhoods that
bordered the old steel plant. They rolled up several side streets coming to a
huge old two story clapboard house that sat, looming large, on a big corner
lot. Next to it sat an empty lot with overgrown grass. The two properties
consumed the entire short block that ran between two side streets. The back of
the clubhouse was surrounded by a six-foot privacy fence and backed up to an
alley that faced a junkyard on the other side. Across the street was a burned
out house, next to that an abandoned house. Obviously, the neighborhood was not
primo real estate, and they liked it that way. The fewer people and neighbors
to fuck with them, the better. The front yard was overgrown, the sides overrun
with tall bamboo and kudzu vines. There was a waist-high chain link fence
around the front yard and a rusty gate no one ever used. The metal mailbox out
on the street was painted black with Evil Dead MC in white stencil across it.
Up on the front porch in a chair by the door sat a skeleton holding a scythe
like some leftover Halloween decoration, except for the Evil Dead support tee shirt
it wore.

The bikes turned the corner and circled around back to the alley, which led
to the only entrance members used. There was a double wooden gate with the club
name, Evil Dead painted, top-rocker style across it. One word on each portion
of the swinging gates that when closed formed the name. Up on the back side of
the house was painted a winged skeleton holding a scythe, looking down at the
back of the property as if guarding it.

Crash and Cole rolled through the back gate and into the large gravel
lot that took up over an acre. The sun was sinking low on the horizon, its
bright setting light hitting at a sharp angle and turning everything a
brilliant golden and a bonfire had been started in an old oil drum in the
center. About a dozen members were gathered around it, more members at picnic
tables or milling around. The place was packed, the wake being a mandatory
turnout. In addition to club members, there was also a strong showing of
support clubs. A line of bikes three deep were parked around the outer edge of
the property, backed up to the wood fence. Cole and Crash rolled along the line
and backed their bikes into a couple of open spots.

Climbing off, they stashed their helmets, as well as the girl’s. Crash
looped his arm around Skylar’s neck and walked toward the fire. Cole did the
same with Letty, pulling her close. They greeted several of their brothers,
recognizing some faces from the old days. Others were new members they’d never
met, but brothers just the same.

An older man who had shoulder length gray hair, a beard and wire rimmed
glasses that had always reminded Crash of Jerry Garcia, came forward as they
approached the group by the fire. The patch on his cut read President, just
like it had fifteen years ago when Cole and Crash had first prospected with
this chapter.

First Cole and then Crash enfolded him in a bear hug, slapping his back.
“Butcher, good to see you.”

“Cole. Crash. Wish it could have been under other circumstances.”

“Amen, brother.”

His eyes moved to Letty, who was standing next to Cole, and he squinted,
not quite sure for a moment. Then he turned to Crash. “This your
little sister
?”

The corner of Crash’s mouth pulled up as he fought a grin. “It’s the
dreadlocks. Wasn’t too sure, myself.”

She shoved his arm. “As if.”

“Well, shit, darlin’. I haven’t seen you in years. Give me a hug, gal,”
Butcher exclaimed, pulling her to him.

She gladly went, laughing. “
You
haven’t changed a bit, still trying to break my bones with your bear hugs.”

He let her go, laughing, his palm patting her cheek. “Just because your
big brother took off for that freak-land they call California, doesn’t mean
you’re
still not welcome, girl.”

“Thanks, Butcher. It’s good to see you. I’m so sorry about Bulldog. He
was like an uncle to me and Crash.”

Butcher nodded. “He was a good man. We’re all gonna miss him.” His eyes
moved to the girl standing back a bit, and he frowned. “Is that the girlfriend
you used to always drag with you to our parties? The shy one?”

Letty turned, smiling. “Skylar? Yep, that’s her. She’s been gone for a
while. I finally convinced her to come home.”

“Good for you.” His attention returned to Letty. “Don’t be such a stranger,
you hear?”

She nodded, grinning. “I won’t.”

Crash found his arm sliding back around Skylar’s shoulders. She seemed a
little off balance around his brothers, and he wanted her to feel at ease. He
remembered she’d never been as outgoing as his sister had always been. Skylar
had always been more reserved. His protective arm around her tightened, and he
looked down at her and winked.

Butcher introduced him to a couple of new brothers that had joined up
since he and Cole had moved away.

“This is Ghost,” Butcher nodded to a young guy with shoulder length dark
hair, a beard and dark brown eyes.

Crash’s eyes glinted with humor as he shook his hand. “Ghost, huh?”

Butcher grinned and filled in the details he knew Crash was wondering
about. “Yeah, we never hear him coming. He’s a sneaking son-of-a-bitch. Has a
habit of appearing and disappearing like a fucking ghost.”

Crash nodded. “I see.”

Butcher turned to the man next to him, he had light brown hair shot
through with gold that fell just past his collar. His strong jaw was covered
with a couple of day’s growth of beard, not really a full beard, more like he
shaved if and when he felt like it. He had a pair of aviator sunglasses on as
he squinted against the glare of the setting sun. “This is Shades, you remember
him? He was prospecting when you left.”

Crash’s eyes narrowed at the reminder, and then his memory jogged. He grinned.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry I didn’t get to stick around and vote you in, kid. I do
remember giving you hell a time or two.” He felt Skylar beside him stiffen and
tremble. He noticed Shades’ eyes slide past him to Skylar. He looked down at
her and saw the stricken look on her face. His eyes moved back to Shades,
studying him. His eyes were boring into Skylar’s, and if Crash wasn’t wrong, he
was pissed.

Crash pulled his arm from around Skylar and extended his hand to Shades.

Shades shook it, dragging his eyes from Skylar. “Good to see you man,
it’s been a long time.” At the reference to time passing, his eyes slid
meaningfully to Skylar again. Crash was picking up all kinds of vibes moving
between the two. It was reinforced when she clutched his waist and practically
hid up against his side as he released Shades hand, and his arm settled back
around her.

He wasn’t the only one that caught the exchange and was frowning. He
noticed the new guy, Ghost’s eyes moving between his brother and the girl,
obviously wondering as well what kind of history these two had.

Butcher nodded toward the keg that sat over by the backdoor and said to
Letty, “Why don’t you and your friend go get yourselves something to drink
while I catch up with your brother, okay, darlin’?”

Letty nodded and turned, motioning for Skylar to follow her. Crash’s arm
slid from around her, but not before he gave her a questioning look that asked
without words if she was okay. She gave him a shaky smile and the two moved
off.

Crash’s turned to catch Shades’ eyes following the girls as they walked
away, or more specifically, Skylar.

Butcher turned to Crash. “Your sister doin’ okay?”

Crash grinned, knowing he was concerned by the dreads. “She’s doing
fine. She’s got a shop down in Southside, and she’s in love with some guy
named, Ace.”

“You good with that?”

Crash shrugged. “Just met the dude. He seems like a good guy, but I’ll
reserve judgment until I know him better.”

Butcher chuckled. “I seem to remember no guy was good enough for your
sister back in the day.”

Crash grinned. “True.”

Butcher turned as two more brothers walked up. He slapped the brother
next to him on the shoulder and nodded to the man next to him. “You remember
Boot and Tater.”

Cole spoke up. “Hell, yeah. How are you boys?” They embraced, slapping
each other’s backs.

Crash did the same.

“Slick’s inside. I know he’s anxious to see you, but he’s taking
Bulldog’s death the hardest.”

They nodded.

Butcher lit up a cigar and waved it toward some other members standing
off by the picnic tables and near the back door. “Lot of new members since you
left. I’ll have to be sure to introduce you both around later.”

They nodded.

“How are things going around here?” Cole asked.

Butcher puffed on his cigar. “Pushing a major membership drive. Gulf
Coast chapter just started up. Lost a couple boys to it. Sent ‘em down there to
keep an eye on things.”

“Problems?”

“Some. But that’s a conversation for another time.”

“You short-handed?” Crash asked.

Butcher shrugged with a grin. “Not short-handed, per se, just pushing to
be the biggest, baddest dog on the block.”

Cole grinned. “I see.”

Butcher looked between Cole and Crash. “Why don’t you boys come back
home? Haven’t you had enough of that slick, west coast life style?

Boot grinned around his smoke. “At least here you don’t have to deal
with earthquakes, landslides and wild fires.”

Crash laughed. “No. You’ve just got heat, humidity and hurricanes.”