GHOST: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 5) (25 page)

Perhaps that wasn’t it at all. Maybe if she was going to be really honest with herself, she had to admit she was scared, and a part of her was still all twisted up with him moving out years ago. She was really afraid he’d leave her again, wasn’t she? Was this all some fucked up test she’d devised in her subconscious mind to see how far she could push him? To see if this time nothing would push him away?

She pressed her forehead to the door as it all swamped over her. She had to stop doing this to herself, stop doing this to them, stop sabotaging any shot they had.

She took in a deep breath, and her hand closed over the knob.

The room was already filled with steam.

She pulled her clothes off, dropping them to the floor, and she opened the glass door of the shower stall.

He had his back to her, his palms high on the tile, his head dipped as the water pounded down on his shoulders. But he must have heard the door open, that or he felt the cooler air roll over him, for his head turned to the side, and she knew he saw her in his peripheral vision.

Still he didn’t move. He just stood there, motionless, perhaps waiting to see what she would do.

She lightly touched her palm between his shoulder blades, and gently stroked upwards toward his neck. Still he was unmoving, so she stepped closer, pressing her smaller body against his, her arms encircling his waist and her lips brushing a kiss to his back.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Sorry doesn’t always cut it, Jess.”

“I was wrong, so wrong. I never should have doubted you’d have my back. I was afraid.”

“Of me?” At that, his palms slid from the tile, and he turned to face her.

She shook her head. “Just afraid. Afraid to be vulnerable. Afraid to be hurt.”

“That what you think I’d do?”

She shrugged. “Not intentionally.”

He grabbed her face and pushed her back against the tile, boxing her in. “Why can’t you trust me, Jess? What do I gotta do to prove it to you?”

She shook her head. “You have nothing to prove to me. I’m the one that has to do that. I want you to trust me, Ghost.”

She watched his jaw tick as he looked down at her. “I wish I could trust you, brat. I do. But it’s not that easy.”

“What can I do to get your trust back?”

“You want me to trust you, start doin’ what I say. Earn it.”

She nodded.

They stared at each other a long moment, and then he whirled her around to face the wall, moving in against her. Her hands pressed against the wet tile as he dipped his head to her. His mouth was at her ear, as his hands closed over her hips.

“I’m still pissed at you. That’s gonna take a while to work through. You understand?” He squeezed his hands, pulling her back, and she felt his erection, big and hard press against her hip. And she understood, completely. And she was okay with that. More than okay. She rubbed the side of her face against his jaw as her ass rubbed up against him, and she spread her legs.

“I’m not gonna be gentle,” he warned unnecessarily.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“You gonna let me take what I want, however I want to take it?”

She nodded again. “Yes.”

One hand slipped around her, and she felt his fingers sliding between her legs to separate her folds, opening her to his strokes. It brought her up on her toes, and her head dropped down. Suddenly, his other hand was in her hair, fisting, pulling her head up as two fingers thrust inside her.

She gasped.

“You ready for me?” he asked as he stroked, searching and finding that spot that drove her crazy.

“Yes,” she panted, quivering from what he was doing to her with those fingers. “Always.”

“Good fucking answer,” he growled as he pulled his fingers out, and then replaced them with his dick, burying himself to the hilt in one deep stroke that had her sucking in a deep breath, tottering on her toes.

One arm locked around her ribs to hold her still, the other hand still buried in her hair as he twisted her head and brought his mouth down over hers, stealing what little breath she had left.

And then both arms locked around her hips, and he was lifting her, ordering, “Lock your legs around me, hands on the wall.”

She pressed her hands to the wall, her heels hooking around his ass, her position almost horizontal as he held her tight and began pounding into her from behind.

He went deep, deeper than before, pounding into her until she knew her inner thighs would be bruised.

He tightened one arm and released her with the other so he could put his hand to the wall and hold them both up.

It wasn’t long before he was grunting, “Fuck.”

And then he was pushing her flat against the wall, the tiles cold against her breasts as he slammed into her one last time to groan out loud as he came inside her.

His breathing was heavy as he jerked once, twice more and then his muscles went limp as he slid her back to her feet, pressing them both to the wall in exhaustion.

After a moment, he pulled her under the shower spray, soaping her body tenderly, without speaking a word the entire time. While he said no words of love or tenderness, the way he touched her communicated to her that he cared about her, and that his feelings ran deep, perhaps even more so than words ever could have.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The next day, the boys had club business to take care of, which worked perfectly into the girls’ plans. The only person that they confided in, swearing to secrecy, was Skylar’s father, Undertaker. She’d called him at the clubhouse before the guys all left and told him their plan. He’d been all for it, but insisted on one thing, that he foot the bill, so he’d left his credit card with Boo and told her to get whatever she needed. And he promised he’d get the boys to the event at the arranged time tomorrow.

Next they drafted Sherry, who was as excited as the rest of them to help with the arrangements. They split into two teams. Sherry took Skylar out shopping for a dress and shoes, while Tink and Jessie took care of getting a cake, booze, catering, and some decorations.

Within an hour, they’d pleaded with a local baker to make them a simple two-tiered cake with a pretty dot pattern and some ribbon to adorn it. Their next stop was an amazing barbeque place that did off site events with a big grill they trailered to events. Fortunately, they’d been able to squeeze the job in for tomorrow. Then the girls hit the liquor store and bought up cases of booze, and a keg of beer.

When they finished their running around town, Tink and Jessie rushed back to Ghost’s place to start setting up. Luckily, Jessie didn’t need the key to his place to access the courtyard they’d be decorating.

Three hours later, Jessie climbed back down the ladder and brushed her hands off, surveying all their hard work. They’d strung strands of twinkling lights all around the beams and then used wire to hang dozens of glass mason jars at varying lengths from the ceiling.

They’d decided to have the ceremony at dusk, so that it would be dark enough for the lighting to have its full effect. It was going to be magical!

She looked over to the altar, where Tink was putting the finishing touches on two tall candelabras that she’d set up on either side of the fireplace. She’d wrapped trailing flowers all around them.

“Oh, Tink. That looks beautiful.”

Tink stepped back. “Are they even with the aisle?”

Jessie surveyed the folding chairs they’d set up in rows. “It’s perfect.”

“Oh, Jess. The lights look fabulous.” Tink pulled out her phone. “It’s getting late. We’d better get back to Skylar’s before the guys get back. I’m dying to see the dress she picked.”

Jess folded the ladder and stashed it back around the side of the building where she’d found it, and they both jumped in Tink’s car and headed out to Lay Lake.

Ghost and Shades rolled up just as Skylar was modeling the long gown she’d chosen. When the girls heard the roar of the bikes, they jumped to get her out of the dress.

“Hurry,” Sherry shrieked, grabbing up the garment bag and herding Skylar into the bathroom.

“Stall them,” Skylar yelled to Tink and Jessie as she hiked up her skirts and dashed out of sight.

Jessie looked at Tink with wide eyes. “What do we do?”

Tink shook her hands in the air, trying to think, then her eyes landed on a glass on the kitchen bar top. Jessie followed the line of her eyes. The next thing she new, Tink was grabbing up the glass and smashing it against the floor in front of the back door.

“What are you doing?” Jessie shrieked.

“You’ll see. Quick, grab the broom and dustpan,” she hissed in a whisper to Jessie, pointing to the tiny utility closet.

The door started to open and Tink grabbed it, stopping it from swinging open.

Shades stuck his head around the door, with a frown.

“We’re sweeping up a broken glass, could you wait outside for just a minute?” Tink asked him with a sweet smile.

“Sure thing, Tink.” Shades backed out, and she slammed the door, leaning against it with a relieved look at Jessie. Both girls struggled to muffle their laughter and high-fived each other.

It was the slowest clean up job on record.

Skylar came out of the bathroom, hopping on one foot as she struggled to slip her shoes back on, while Sherry dashed up the stairs with the garment bag to hide it under the bed.

Then they all looked at each other and burst out laughing, which got frowns from both Shades and Ghost as they walked in.

“What’s so funny?” Shades asked.

“Nothing,” Skylar replied.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re up to something.”

She rolled her eyes. “You really want to hear about Tink’s time of the month?”

That shut him up. “Uh, no, not really.”

The guys walked over to the living room and switched on the game, while Tink gave Skylar the look of death for throwing her under the bus like that as a diversion.

“My time of the month,” she hissed under her breath as the girl’s moved into the kitchen. Skylar tried to hide her grin as she grabbed a package of ground beef from the refrigerator, ignoring her.

“Who wants burgers on the grill?”

Two hours later, after they’d grilled out and ate, Ghost stood from the chair he’d been leaning back in out on the deck.

Jessie sipped her drink, studying him. He was still pissed at her. He was being civil, but the anger simmered just under the surface. And she knew it would take time for him to let that go. He had every right to be mad at her. She’d lied to him, misled him, not just about what happened in Sturgis, but about Kyle, too. And perhaps worst of all was what those lies represented in his eyes. That she didn’t trust him. And that was the biggest wound of all to him.

She had a lot of work to do to rebuild his trust.

“You ready to go?”

She nodded, standing. And then her eyes went to Skylar and Shades. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Our pleasure,” Shades replied, and she knew he sensed the tension between her and Ghost. And he knew she was the cause of it. The look in his eyes told her so. He didn’t like his brother being hurt or made a fool. But he’d stay out of it, letting Ghost handle his own business however he saw fit.

“Let’s go,” Ghost said to her.

Shades stood and embraced his brother, slapping him on the back.

“Thanks, man,” Ghost told him.

“You’re welcome. Anytime, bro.”

They turned to leave, but Shades stopped them.

“Wait up.”

When Ghost turned back to look at him, he pulled an envelope from his back pocket and passed it to Ghost. “Can you drop that by the clubhouse on your way home? Butcher’s waiting for it. Save me the trip.”

Ghost took it. “Yeah, sure.”

They moved down the stairs, around the house and climbed on Ghost’s bike.

Twenty minutes later, as the light was fading from the sky, they pulled down the alley to the back gates of the clubhouse.

Yammer sat on the ground, leaning back against the wooden fence by the gate.

“Hey, Yammer. Open the gate,” Ghost called, his bike idling.

Yammer didn’t move, his head hanging as if he’d fallen asleep.

“Yammer!” Ghost barked.

When he still didn’t respond, Ghost shut his bike off, and he and Jessie both climbed off as he moved toward the prospect.

Jessie watched as Ghost kicked him.

“Wake up, motherfucker.”

Yammer slumped over onto his side, and Ghost stepped back.

“What the fuck?”

A gloved hand clamped over Jessie’s mouth, and a strong arm grabbed her around the waist, pulling her against a solid chest, her purse falling to the ground. She watched as another shadowy figure immerged from some bushes and charged Ghost. He was caught off guard as the man brought what looked like a pipe down on his head with a crack.

Jessie tried to scream as she watched Ghost crumple to the ground. A moment later, a dark sedan was barreling down the alley, its lights off. It stopped, and the man that had ahold of her was suddenly shoving her face forward down over the trunk, yanking her arms behind her back and cuffing her wrists. He yanked her back up, and she was able to see the other man rolling Ghost to his back and cuffing him as well. Then he dug in Ghost’s pocket, pulled out his cell phone and chunked it across the fence into the clubhouse yard.

The man behind her held her tightly; his hand over her mouth while the driver popped the trunk open, jumped out and helped the other man carry Ghost to the trunk. They hefted him inside, the car dipping with his weight.

Then she was being shoved toward the trunk, lifted and tossed on top of Ghost. She landed with a thud against his chest. With their hands cuffed behind their backs, she could do nothing to break her fall against him. She heard him grunt as she rolled partially off him. And then the lid slammed down, and they were trapped in utter darkness.

“Ghost,” she whispered frantically, and he moaned. “Ghost, please, please, wake up.”

She was afraid for him. She wasn’t sure how hard he’d been hit, but it had been enough to knock him out, and that couldn’t be good. And she admitted to herself that as selfish a thought as it was, the thought of going through this alone terrified her, and that’s what she’d be if she couldn’t get him to wake up.

The car rocked when the men climbed inside. She felt the car begin to move, slowly at first, and then making a turn and picking up speed.

“Ghost. Ghost. Baby, please wake up. I need you. You have to be okay.”

He moaned again, and then he murmured her name.

“Jessie—”

“Yes, oh, thank God. Are you hurt?”

“My head feels like someone took a baseball bat to it.” And then he began to squirm, as if just realizing something wasn’t right. “Where are we? What happened?”

“Some guys jumped us at the back gate. They hit you over the head. We’re in the trunk of a car.”

“Fuck. You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes, I’m okay.”

“Did you see them?”

“No, they had ski masks on. Do you think it was the Death Heads?”

“Probably.”

“Oh, God.”

The trunk was completely dark, but she could already hear Ghost’s breathing increase. His claustrophobia was taking hold. Already his breathing was rapid, sawing in and out of his chest, a chest that was becoming slick with sweat.

“Jesus,” she heard him whisper between his labored breathing. “It’s like a coffin in here.”

She felt his body tremble.

“Ghost, it’s going to be okay. We’re going to get out of this, right?”

He tried to laugh, but his teeth were clattering together as if he were shivering with cold. “Of course we are, sweetheart.”

“You’ve got to slow your breathing.”

“E-easy for you to s-say.” He clamped his teeth together, and she heard him growl in frustration. “Goddamn it. I fucking hate this s-shit.”

“You have to go somewhere else in your mind, Ghost. Close your eyes and think of something else.”

He stuttered out another attempt at a laugh. “Your ocean?”

She grabbed at his example, the one she’d told him about. “Yes. Yes. Imagine the water. You’re floating. It’s warm and lapping at your body.”

“I’d rather imagine your tongue lapping at my body,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.

She was tempted to ignore his comment, but in the end she decided to go with it. Perhaps his imaginations would work better that way. “Yes, Ghost, my tongue on your body. Close your eyes and feel it.”

After a minute she felt his breathing slow. She didn’t know what he was imagining in his head but it was working. She felt her shoulders slump in relief.

Her attention moved to the handcuffs that bound her. She worked her wrists, twisting and folding her thumb under. Jessie had always had small hands with delicate wrists; she used that to her advantage now. Twisting and pulling, she felt her wrist slide an inch and hope soared inside her. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. After a minute, she was able to slide the cuff down another half inch.

“Ghost?” his body still trembled, but he was managing to keep his breathing under control.

He grunted.

“I think I can get the cuffs off one of my wrists.”

“Yeah?”

She struggled a moment longer and finally pulled her wrist free, groaning at the pain in her shoulders as she brought her arms around. But it only impeded her a moment, and then her hands were all over Ghost, his chest, his face. “Baby, we’re going to get out of here,” she assured him.

They felt the vehicle slow for a turn, and they shifted against each other. The car rocked slowly over a bumpy road.

“There’s a safety latch, Jess. Find it. Quick.”

“Where?” she asked, frantically feeling around.

“It should be in the center, near the latch. It should be flat and T shaped.”

She felt around, and then her hand closed around something just as he described. “I found it.”

“Good, baby. When you pull it, try to keep the trunk from flying wide open. Get a peek at where we are if you can.”