GHOST: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 5) (13 page)

She bit her lip and moved cautiously to sit on it.

He scooted the chair in a few inches causing her to grab at its base nervously, and he leaned in close, his hands still gripping tightly on the back of her chair and added, “Guys just get tired of ungrateful bitches.”

She sucked in a breath and felt Ghost sit in the chair next to her, squeezing her between him and Shades. He leaned over and half whispered, “That’s code for ‘say thank you’, sweetheart.”

She glanced up at Blood who still stood over her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m not an ungrateful bitch.”

“Good to know.” And she swore the man almost smiled before moving to another seat on the other side of the table.

Ghost leaned forward on his elbows, his eyes hitting one of the men from the Omaha Chapter that sat the end of the table. “Heard you were knee deep in some Sexcapades last night, Skunk.”

The man grinned back. “You know my motto. Two blondes are better than one.”

Ghost grinned. “Were they twins? You workin’ through some kind of sexual bucket list?”

“Nope. Had twins, never triplets, though. That’s the holy grail.”

“You got that list all printed up and everything, Skunk?”

He grinned as he lifted his coffee mug to his mouth. “There’s an app on my phone.”

“You’re not right in the head, dude.”

“It’s an interesting list. I’ve seen it,” another man at the table added.

“Want to see it?” Skunk offered.

“Does it include farm animals?” Ghost asked with a grin.

One of the brothers almost spewed coffee all over the table.

Shades looked over at him. “You missed all the fun last night. Cops came and everything.”

“Really.”

One of the Omaha men added, “Well, hell, it ain’t a party till there’s gunfire, right?”

More chuckles.

“Absolutely.”

“Marlene gave me the third degree last night about who the new girl was.” His eyes slid to Jessie for a moment.

“A jealous woman does better research than the FBI, man,” the brother next to him added, forking food into his mouth.

“You got that right.”

The man that had been outside helping the women with their car ambled in. He glanced over at a nearby tableful of young teenage boys and tossed them a nugget of advice as he made his way to the table. “Fellas, learn how to fix shit. It will get you blowjobs. You’re welcome.”

His brothers all grinned as he yanked out a chair and sat down.

“I take it that went well,” one of them commented, chuckling.

“Absolutely.”

A waitress arrived, passing out plates of food to the men who had ordered earlier. Jessie’s eyes swept around the table, taking in the various plates of heaping food. They were all piled high with different items that all smelled terrific. She looked over at Shades’ plate. It was a smothered rib eye, and she practically drooled. “Sweet merciful mother of…”

Shades grinned over at her. “Get you one.”

“No way. I couldn’t eat all that.”

He nodded toward the man across from him. “How about that?”

She looked over to see a stack of pancakes that took up the entire plate. Her eyes got big as she looked back at a grinning Shades. “That pancake is the size of my face.”

“You’re a goof,” he replied.

Ghost handed her a menu.

Mugs of piping hot coffee were brought out quickly and set in front of the two new arrivals.

One of the guys looked over at her. “If you’re one of those hippy-dippy coffee snobs, this ain’t the place for you.”

“I’m not,” she replied. But she had spent the last few years in Seattle, the coffee mecca of the world, so, yes, she was spoiled with some superb product. She sipped the coffee, surprised to find it was really good.

Sandman’s plate was set before him, and he immediately reached for packets of grape jelly, mixing them in with his scrambled eggs and making a big purple mucky mess.

Jessie arched a brow. “That’s grape jelly.”

He looked over at her with a conspiratorial look and put the side of his index finger to his lips. “Shh. There’s not enough for everybody.”

“You’re weird,” she replied, grinning at him.

“What? That’s normal.”

Ghost chuckled. “Normal is a destination you ain’t ever gonna reach, bro.”

Sandman shoveled a big forkful into his mouth and spoke around it. “Ask me if I give a fuck.”

One of the men, who she recognized as one of the Omaha Chapter members looked up from his plate. “Menu has all the good stuff. This is our go-to place the morning after a night of general debauchery. Nothing fancy about the place, just good comfort food. You name it, they got it, and the best part, it won’t break the bank.”

“Home-style on the cheap, bro,” Shades said over her head to Ghost.

Sandman shoved a forkful into his mouth and spoke around it. “Food’s nothing to complain about.”

The man across from him snorted. “You always got something to complain about, Sandman.”

Sandman spoke around his mouthful, “Not this, bro. Its as if some wizard cast a spell and created a singularly awesome breakfast.”

“Don’t mind him. He’s stoned,” Blood teased.

“I am not,” Sandman insisted. “Just hungry.”

Jessie couldn’t help but giggle.

The waitress came to stand behind her and Ghost. “What’ll you two have?”

Jessie looked up to find the woman’s eyes on her. She quickly glanced down at the menu and picked something. “Um, toast, bacon and fresh fruit.

Ghost grabbed it out of her hand and handed it to the waitress. “She’ll have the Stuffed French Toast. I’ll have the Chicken Fried Steak.”

After the waitress walked away, Jessie turned to Ghost. “Why did you do that? I’m not that hungry.”

“You need to eat. We got a long day of riding ahead of us. And I seem to recall you love strawberries,” he added with a grin.

He remembered! Why did that make her want to grin from ear to ear? She sucked her lips into her mouth to keep from doing just that and having the whole table see her reaction.

Shades grinned over at her. “Strawberries, huh?”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help grinning back. “I like strawberries. What of it?”

His brows shot up, and he looked over her head to Ghost. “She’s a feisty one, ain’t she?”

“Yup,” she heard Ghost reply, and her head whipped around to him.

“I am not!”

“Oh hell yeah, you are.” He grinned, taking a sip of his coffee.

The men continued shoveling food in their faces, occasionally pausing long enough to talk, or more accurately make smartass comments back and forth to each other.

It wasn’t long before their plates arrived. Her eyes got big when her order was plopped down in front of her. French toast stuffed with strawberries, and topped with whipped cream and powdered sugar.

She didn’t waste anytime digging in. At the first bite, she moaned in delight. “Hmm. It’s super yummy.”

“Did she just say super yummy?” the man called Hammer asked.

“Why yes she did, and I agree,” Shades replied with a grin.

When they’d finished with their food and were relaxing over cups of coffee, Ghost turned to her, suggesting, “Maybe you should ride in the chase van with the prospect.”

“I’m fine to ride.”

“Bullshit. You’re hung over, scraped and your ass is sore.”

That brought grins out all around the table.

“Oh,
really?
Why’s her ass sore?” Blood asked.

“Yeah, what’d you do to her last night?” Sandman added.

“Shut the fuck up.” Then he swung his gaze back to her. “You’re in the van.”

She huffed out a breath.

“Ooo, the ‘woman huff’. Which, in my experience, is never a good thing,” Griz teased.

Ghost arched a brow at her, ignoring his brother. “Don’t give me any lip.”

“Fine!” she snapped.

“Ooo, that’s even worse. When a chick says fine, ain’t nobody gonna be fine.”

Shades got up, chuckling. “Let’s go, boys.”

They all moved out to the bikes at the curb. The men started mounting up. Ghost stopped next to his bike and held her helmet out to her. She took it, staring up at him.

“Do I have to ride with Yammer again? He talked my ear off the other day.”

“How do you think he got his name? Because he won’t shut up. Yammer, yammer, yammer. I seriously have my doubts if the brothers are gonna to be able to get past that when it comes time to vote him in.”

“Please don’t make me ride with him again,” she whined pathetically.

Ghost grinned at her and reached an arm around her, his hand slapping down and grabbing her ass cheek for a squeeze.

“Oww,” she moaned at the reminder of how sore she was.

“You need more convincing than this?” He gave another squeeze.

“Okay, okay. I give. I’ll ride in the bloody van with Chatty Cathy.”

Ghost grinned even bigger. “Thought you’d see it my way.”

“Do you always get your way?”

“Yup. And don’t you forget it, pretty girl.” He released her ass cheek, but smacked it one last time, before stepping away.

“Oww. You sadist!” She rubbed her ass and glared at him.

He threw his leg over his bike, lifted it off the kickstand and patted the seat behind him, still grinning. “Climb on, brat.”

They rode back to the Omaha clubhouse where the men formed up to roll out. Good to his word, Ghost deposited her back in the van with Yammer.

She leaned back, folded her arms and wished she had her headphones and could tune out to some music. But no, she had to listen to the Prospect drone on for five hundred miles about anything and everything that popped into his mind.

CHAPTER NINE

They arrived after dark at their second stop. Jessie gazed up at the building. The Saint Louis, Missouri Chapter’s clubhouse. It was a medium sized brick building on the edge of an industrial neighborhood west of the old brewery section. It looked like in a past life it may have been a corner tavern. But any welcoming feeling was long gone. It was now marked with Keep Out, Private Property and an assortment of MC signage. There was a parking lot that had been fenced off and gated with chain link fencing that was filled in with security strips that ran in diagonal black and white stripes, the Evil Dead colors.

Some members rolled through the gates and into the compound, while the overflow, Ghost included, parked out on the street in a long line of bikes backed to the curb.

Yammer found a spot half a block down and parked, then walked her down to where Ghost was waiting. He took her by the hand and led her through the gate.

It was pretty much a repeat of the previous night, with ol’ ladies and other clubwomen there to welcome home the men like conquering heroes. There was food and booze, and once again it didn’t take long for the party to crank up into high gear.

And again, Ghost didn’t spend too much time before he led her by the hand through the crowd and back out to his bike and to a motel.

This one was much the same as the last one, except this time she noticed he’d made sure there were two beds.

She watched as he tossed his pack on the bed nearest the door.

She noticed he always put himself between her and the door. That was just his way. Always had been. He always put himself between her and any possible threat.

“I’ll take that one. You can have the one closest to the bathroom,” she offered mostly just to see if he’d do it.

“Not happening, sweetheart. I’ll take the one by the door.”

“Why?” she asked, just to see if he would confirm her theory. And he did.

“Anyone tries to come through that door or window, they have to go through me to get to you.”

“Oh.” And then she remembered the very real threat that someone might just want her dead. And she realized this wasn’t a joke. There really was danger out there.

Ghost studied her face. “Yeah,
oh
.”

She bit her lip. “You really think the Death Heads followed us?”

“Doubt it. Just bein’ safe.”

She looked worriedly toward the window, and he must have seen her reaction because a moment later he was standing in front of her, drawing her attention away from the window.

“Hey.”

She looked up at him, the worry still plain on her face, she was sure.

“Nothing’s gonna happen. I’m right here, Jess. Not gonna let anybody hurt you. You’re safe with me.” He stared into her eyes, and she felt a calm come over her. A calm she always felt when she was with him. A calm no one else had ever made her feel.

She believed him. Every word.

His eyes were searching hers, waiting, so she nodded. “I know. I believe you.”

He stood there another moment longer, studying her. Then he, too, nodded once and stepped away.

“I notice we didn’t stay long at the clubhouse,” she commented to his back as he dug around in his pack. He glanced over his shoulder at her.

“Figured you were tired. And the boys get a little wild. And I sure as hell didn’t want a repeat of this morning.”

“This morning?” She frowned, not sure what he was referring to.

He turned back to her, his brows raised. “You. Slapping Blood.”

She bit her lip. “Oh. That.”

“Yeah.
Oh, that
.”

“Well, he deserved it.”

“Ain’t sayin’ he didn’t. But, brat, you have to understand, shit like that is not tolerated. No woman disrespects a brother like that. Ever. We clear?”

“Whatever.”

“No, babe. Not
whatever.
You need to understand that. Down to your bones. I’m lucky Blood was in a good mood this morning, or he and I would’ve been punching it out in the street over you.”

“
Good mood?
You’re joking, right?”

“Nope.”

She raised her brows.

Ghost continued on. “So, next time you feel the need to react or feel an impulse like that, you better squash it down. It’s shit like that that’ll force me to cut you loose.”

“Maybe I am impulsive. I suppose I get it from my mother.”

“You definitely are impulsive. I’ll testify to that. Not always the best trait to have, though, babe.”

“Like mother, like daughter, huh?”

“Don’t talk bad about your mom, Jess. She did the best she could by you. And she tried with me, she really did. Hell, I’m sure I was a handful. But she did try. Much as I didn’t like her, I have to give her that.”

“Do you know why she moved us out?”

***

Ghost stared at Jessie wondering where she was going with this, and how their conversation had taken such a turn. But he also felt she had the need to talk. One thing Ghost knew about women, when they needed to talk, you’d best let them. Otherwise they bottled that shit up, and it was bound to explode all over you when you least expected it.

He shook his head, watching her closely.

“Because she read my diary.”

“And?”
Why did his chest suddenly feel tight?

“And she found out about…you know…us.”

“Us? There was no ‘us’, Jess,” he stated emphatically.
Jesus Christ what the hell was in that diary?

“There was that kiss.”

His brows rose. “You wrote about that in your diary?”

“Of course.”

“What
exactly
did you write?”

She flushed.

Fuck, that wasn’t good.
“Jess?”

She shrugged. “Just that we kissed.”

“And?”

“She blew up at your father. Told him to keep you away from me.”

“I’d already moved out by then.”

“I know. But sometimes you still came around.”

“She didn’t have anything to worry about. I told her that.”

It was her turn to frown. “You did? When?”

“She confronted me. Did you really think she wouldn’t?” He watched her jaw tighten at that.

“I hated her for moving us out.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“I wish they hadn’t divorced.”

“It must have been hard on her. Losing Tommy, then the split with my dad, and you running off.” When he saw her blanch at his words, he closed his eyes.
Fuck.
He shook his head, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it was your fault. You were grieving, too.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“She reached out to me. Did you know that?”

She shook her head, frowning. “No, I didn’t.”

“I just couldn’t be there for her, you know? Couldn’t be what she needed. Couldn’t be Tommy for her.”

“I’m sure that’s not what she wanted.”

“Maybe not. But I let her down, just the same.”

“Why do you say that?”

He shook his head.
Christ, he needed to shut up before he said too much.
“Never mind.”

At his curt words, she let it drop, and he was thankful for that. He was beat from the ride, and put his palm on his back, stretching and groaning as his tight muscles flared in pain.

“Long trip, huh?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he gritted out, trying to smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I love to ride, but fucking hell, this trip is motherfucking long.”

“What a mouth you have on you now,” she teased.

“Lotta shit about me has changed. Not the boy you used to know,” he bit out a little harsher than he intended, his exhaustion stringing his nerves out.

“Yes you are,” she countered quietly.

“No, I’m not. And you need to understand that, babe, right now.” Perhaps his exhaustion was putting him in a mood. Didn’t excuse him taking that shit out on her. He knew she didn’t deserve to have him snap at her. Still he couldn’t seem to stop. Shit just spilled out of his mouth, shit he hadn’t intended to say.

“Ghost—”

“I’ve done a lot of shit, Jess. Things you’d never understand. Things you’d never get past if you knew. Maybe I’ll tell you one day. And when I do, you’ll walk out that door, sure as shit.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yeah,
it is
, Jess.”

“Ghost—”

“You lookin’ to start a fight? That’s where we’re goin’ with this. So just drop it.”

“Okay, fine. It’s dropped.” She raised her hands.

He ran a frustrated hand down his face. “Sorry, brat. Didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just tired.” He sat on the end of the bed. “Fuck, my back hurts.”

She moved to sit on the side, facing his back.

“Maybe I can help you feel better.”

“Don’t think so.”

She slid her hands on his shoulders, squeezing the muscles.
Fuck, that felt good
. His eyes slid closed and he moaned, rolling with her motions, allowing her to manipulate some of the tightness out.

“Well, it
is
what I do for a living.”
What the fuck?
He was off the bed like a shot, spinning to look down at her. She stared up at him, confusion written on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“You make men
feel good
for a living?”

“What? No! Jesus, Ghost, get your head out of the gutter!”

“What the hell did you just mean?”

“Are you saying you think I’m a…a…streetwalker or prostitute or…whatever?” She was at a loss for words.

“What are
you
saying?” he snapped right back. “You get paid to do
what
exactly?”

She surged to her feet. “I’m a massage therapist, you moron!”

His chin pulled back. “Massage therapist?”

“Yes. Trained and everything.”

He frowned, wondering when the hell that had happened. “Seriously?”

Her hands landed on her hips. “Yes, Ghost.
Seriously
. And I’m good at it. I could work the tightness out of your back if you’d let me. But after that remark, I’m not so sure I want to anymore.”

“Brat, you gotta see where I was confused. When you said…”

“Just shut up before you dig a deeper hole.”

Good fucking advice.
He knew enough to know when a woman told you to shut up, you best shut up. So he nodded and shut up.

She huffed out a breath. “Fine. Lay back down.”

He eyed the bed. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

“Your back hurts, doesn’t it? Or don’t you think I know what I’m doing?”

Okay, now she was getting offended again. Fuck
.

“Take off your shirt. I’ll get my oil.”

“You’re
oil
?”

“Yes, massage oil.”

“Oh.” He watched as she crossed the room to the dresser and dug through her cross-bag, coming back with a small bottle. He hadn’t moved, so she lifted her brows.

“Well?”

He found his hands going to his shirt and yanking it over his head, and then he moved to lie down on his stomach.

“Other way.”

He looked at her.

“With your head at the foot. Makes it easier to reach your neck and shoulders.”

He complied, and she moved to stand over him at the foot. Then she uncapped the bottle and poured a small amount of oil in her hand. He watched as she rubbed them together to warm the oil before she touched him. A moment later, he felt her small hands settle on his shoulders. She smoothed the oil over his skin with long gliding strokes. And, God, it felt wonderful.

“Take slow, even breaths and try to relax,” she ordered, and he found himself complying willingly as she began working the tension out of his muscles. “It helps if you visualize something calming and soothing.”

“Got any suggestions?” he asked, not sure how relaxed he was going to be able to stay with her hands on him.

“I use the ocean. I imagine myself lying on the beach just in the surf line, feeling the waves wash over me, gently lifting me, the warmth of the sand and the sun, the sensation of floating in the water.”

“Sounds nice,” he murmured as her hands glided over his skin.

She leaned over and started at the bottom of his back, moving upward, applying pressure, then bringing her hands down the outside of his back with a light touch. She maintained contact without applying pressure as she brought her hands back down. She repeated this technique for about five minutes while gradually increasing from light to medium pressure and warming up his back muscles as well as his neck and shoulders.