SHADES: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series Book 3) (10 page)

She wrapped her arm around him and hugged him as she looked down at the graves.

Somehow, they’d get through this together.

****

As it turned out, Crash indeed ended up staying, and good to his word, Butcher gave him a spot at the table. Shades watched him closely at every church meeting they had. Crash would always give his input when asked and didn’t hesitate to do any job Butcher threw his way, but Shades could see he was distracted.

His grief was seeming to turn him into a man who didn’t give a shit about anything or anybody, except maybe the club. Shades couldn’t help but wonder where that left Skylar. Shades noticed that several nights a week Crash would bunk at the clubhouse, staying in the big room they kept for out-of-town brothers. It had four sets of bunk-beds lined up around the wall. Bare mattresses that brothers would unroll their sleeping bags on top of and not much more. Shades couldn’t imagine choosing that over crawling into bed with a woman like Skylar. He supposed the magnitude of grief that Crash was dealing with could make a man pull away from others.

He often speculated on how that relationship was holding up. If Shades knew one thing, it was that things like this had a way of either breaking a relationship or making it stronger. He couldn’t help but wonder which way things would fall for this one.

He knew Skylar must be going through her own grief, which could only put more strain on the relationship. Shades could only speculate, because he hadn’t seen them together since the funeral. He couldn’t really ask why, without arousing suspicions, but she hadn’t attended any of the club parties they’d had. Crash had come, mostly out of obligation Shades figured, since he never seemed to actually party or have a good time. He mostly just sat off by himself and got quietly drunk.

Maybe the old man saw it, too, because Butcher was pushing Crash to bring Skylar to the club’s annual shrimp boil which was this weekend. Maybe he sensed something needed to be done to snap Crash out of the funk he’d fallen into.

Shades wondered if Skylar would actually come.

He was dying to see her, even though he knew it was going to kill him to watch her with another man. She was starting to become all he could think about. She consumed his thoughts day and night. Maybe if he saw her again, maybe if they worked their shit out, rehashed the past, and he finally got some answers, then maybe he’d be able to get her out of his mind.

Then maybe he’d be able to let it all go.

And let
her
go.

Once and for all.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Skylar was in the kitchen. She’d just finished the breakfast dishes from earlier, and she was standing at the sink, looking out the window. Her mind had drifted back to that summer she’d first met Shades. That first time he pulled her to him and kissed her. At the memory, her hand lifted, her fingers absently touching her lips.

Boot steps behind her startled her out of her daydream, and she turned to see Crash walk into the kitchen. When she found out he was planning to stay in town, she’d insisted he stay with her in one of the extra rooms in this big house. He’d taken her up on it, maybe because he’d sensed she was feeling just as lost and alone as he was after their shared loss. But he spent a lot of time at the clubhouse, even sleeping there some nights. Somehow she didn’t think he truly felt comfortable in either place.

She smiled at him, her eyes moving over him as she noted that he seemed dressed to ride. A pair of sunglasses dangled from his mouth as he pulled his cut on. “Are you going out?”

He grabbed the sunglasses out of his mouth and slid them on top of his head. “Yeah. There’s this annual thing at the clubhouse today. They do a big shrimp boil, drink some beer. It’ll be a good time. Come with me.”

The smile faded from her face, and her stomach flipped at the thought of going back there and running into Shades. She couldn’t handle another face-to-face confrontation with him. Besides, she wasn’t even sure she was welcome there. At least, not by him. She shook her head. “I don’t think so, Crash.”

“Skylar, you need to get out of the house. It’s a beautiful day. Come on, take a ride with me. It’ll be fun.” She shook her head again.

“No, you go ahead. I’m not feeling much like being around people today.” She watched him rub his hand over his face, and studying him, she realized he somehow looked worried.

“I know how you feel,” he admitted softly.

She frowned, confused. “You don’t want to go either?” He shook his head, biting his lip. “Then why don’t you just stay here—with me?”

“Skylar—” He paused, seeming to struggle with how to explain something.

“What is it? Crash? Tell me.”

“The thing is—I have to show, and I’m really not sure I can handle it without you. Most of the time I’m at the clubhouse, if I’m not tending to business, I’m off in the corner drinking alone. Drinking too much.”

She realized just how much it cost him to admit that to her. Still, going there wasn’t easy for her. Crossing her arms, she looked at the floor wondering if she could do it. She knew in her heart Crash would never make her face something like that by herself. She couldn’t make him face it alone then, either. Turning back to the sink, she stared out the window, and then consented. “All right, then. If it’s important to you, I’ll go.”

He approached her, his palm settling on her shoulder. “Does going to the clubhouse make you nervous?”

“A little.”

“No one will bother you if you don’t want them to, darlin’. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I know you will.”

***

Shades sat on the top of one of the picnic tables, his boots on the bench seat. His elbows on his knees, a red plastic cup of beer between his hands. He surveyed the grounds of the clubhouse and the turnout for the annual shrimp boil.

Ghost took a hit off a joint and passed it to him. “You seen Tink?”

Shades’ eyes scanned the crowd. Tink, a shortened version of her nickname, Tinker bell, was so named because she was a tiny little pixie of a girl with short spiked white-blonde hair. Her pointed chin, delicate features and big green eyes only added to her sprite-like appearance.

“Nope, why?”

Ghost blew out a stream of smoke and grinned. “She’s got on a little leather skirt. It’s drivin’ Hammer crazy.”

Hammer was young, like them. He was a muscular guy, built like a brick house. Tattoos covered most of his broad chest, shoulders and arms. He had short dark hair and a heavy close-cut beard. The overall appearance gave him the look of a gladiator.

“Well, if he didn’t nail everything in sight, maybe she’d give him the time of day,” Shades replied.

“Yeah, but we both know a tiger don’t change his stripes. He didn’t get that name for nothin’.”

The corner of Shades’ mouth pulled at Ghost’s remark. “He’s never getting’ in her pants, so he’d might as well hang that shit up.”

“That ain’t no lie.”

Griz walked up and confiscated the joint out of Shades hands. Taking a long toke, he asked, “What are we talking about, boys?”

“When’s the damn shrimp boil gonna be ready?” Ghost asked.

“Hell if I know,” Griz replied, glancing over toward where a tall bald man stood over the big boiling pot. “Gator’s in a mood today. I ain’t askin’ him.”

“Gator’s
always
in a mood.” Ghost took the joint back from Griz.

“Yeah, but the man sure can cook.” Griz looped an arm around the neck of one of the girls as she walked past and pulled her to him. “How’s it shakin’ Sherry-berry?”

Her strawberry blonde hair made her the perfect target for a million different nicknames which seemed to rotate daily. She was about five foot three and stacked. She put a hand on her hip and gave a little shimmy. “You tell me, big guy.”

“Heard you got a story to tell,” he teased with a knowing grin.

She rolled her eyes. “You heard about last night?”

“I heard you went into thermo-nuclear meltdown with some guy.” Griz waggled his brows at her.

“It wasn’t just some guy.” Both hands landed on her hips.

“It wasn’t two guys was it?” Ghost teased.

“In my dreams.”

Griz grinned in response. “Hey, doll, go ask Gator if the shrimp are ready.”

Sherry made a face that said, no way in hell. “I’m not asking him. He’ll bite my head off.”

“Come on, Strawberry Shortcake, take one for the team,” Ghost put in with a wink.

She rolled her eyes and moved off toward Gator. Over her shoulder she said, “You’re all chicken-shits.”

The men laughed.

Shades eyes were drawn to the back gate as a single bike rode in.

Crash.

With Skylar ridin’ bitch.

Well, goddamn, he actually brought her.

Ghost must have noticed as well, because he leaned closer. His eyes on the bike, he asked, “You ever gonna tell that tale, Brother?”

“Nothin’ to tell. It’s over. Ancient history now.”

Ghost let out a huff. “Bullshit.”

Shades turned his eyes on Ghost, his look deadly. “Drop it.”

Ghost grinned, but let it lay.

Shades’ eyes returned to where Crash and Skylar were climbing off the bike. He took a drink from his beer, his eyes following the pair as they walked up to the blue canopy tent set up over near the shrimp boil. There were several tables and chairs under it, and that’s where Butcher, Slick and Boot were sitting. Crash clasped their hands and sat down, pulling Skylar down to the chair next to his. Shades could see Crash reach over and take her hand in his, their clasped hands resting on her thigh. He couldn’t stop the images of Crash running his hands over Skylar’s body, and the thought had his jaw clenching.

Butcher snapped his fingers at one of the girls over by the food tables, and a moment later she brought over two cold beers, handing one to Crash and one to Skylar.

Shades took a sip of his beer and continued to keep an eye on them.

One of the new hang-around girls wandered by, giving him a look that read like an open invitation. She was young and blonde. His eyes ran down her body. He’d become a man always in the market for fresh pussy, and he’d been driving himself crazy the past few nights, lying awake with thoughts of Skylar filling his goddamned head. At the reminder of her, his razor sharp gaze zeroed in on her across the compound, only to find her sitting in Crash’s fucking lap now.

Goddamn that gutted him.

His attention turned back to the girl, and he lifted his chin at her. “Come here, darlin’.” When she strutted over, he took a hit off his cigarette, blew the smoke out slowly and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Ashley.”

“Ashley? That’s a real pretty name.” He reached up to trace the side of her face with his index finger, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Shades knew how to turn on the charm when he wanted. He knew how to work a girl, too. Show a little interest, then pretend to put them off, then reel ‘em back in. Worked every fucking time. He nodded toward the prospect standing guard duty at the back gate. The one he’d sponsored about six months ago. “You see my prospect standin’ over by the gate?”

She turned to look, and then nodded to him.

“Go bring him a sandwich and some water for me. Keep him company for a while.” She looked confused, her bright smile faltering. There were a lot of girls that wanted his attention. They seemed to single him out as one of the prizes in this club. He knew he was younger than a lot of the members, but there were other young guys. Ghost, who was a little taller and broader in the shoulder. Hammer, who had the muscular build some girls swooned over.

Shades supposed it was his face that drew the attention he received, that and the hard look that stamped his face most days. There were bigger brothers, but for some reason it was that cold hard look they all seemed to want to be the one to melt. Only one woman had ever done that. And she was across the compound. In the arms of another brother.

Ashley narrowed her eyes for a split second before catching herself and pasting the smile back on her face. Shades watched her hand lift, her own index finger moving slowly down the leather of his cut, pausing to trace the 1% diamond. His eyes followed her movement and then lifted to hers. Maybe this one he wouldn’t be so quick to toss back.

“Sure, darlin’,” she mimicked him. “What’s his name?”

A grin pulled at the corner of Shades mouth, and he reached up to grab her hand. He saw her eyes widen, probably wondering if she’d crossed a line in touching him without permission. He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a soft kiss to the palm. His eyes moved over her shoulder and connected with Skylar’s. He could see, even across the compound, her reaction. This was probably the first time—ever—that she’d actually seen him showing attention to another woman. His eyes returned to cute little blonde Ashley, who, if he was being honest, didn’t hold a candle to Skylar’s beauty. But Skylar didn’t know that. He knew women. They were a competitive breed when it came to the attention of men.

“His name’s 12Gauge, darlin’.”

She frowned. “12Gauge?”

He grinned. “He’s good with a shotgun, babe. A 12 gauge shotgun.”

“Oh.” He watched her pretty pink mouth form a perfect circle and all kinds of thoughts crossed his mind. Lifting his chin toward his prospect, he raised a brow at her, his message clear. She’d yet to do as he’d bid her. He released her hand and grinned as she turned, moving off to do his bidding. Just like he knew she would.

Ghost shook his head as Shades lifted his beer to his mouth. “You’re something else, Brother.”

Shades eyes were on Skylar. “Why do you say that?”

“I’ve watched you pull this bit a hundred times. I’m just amazed it works for you.”

“Can’t let ‘em think you want ‘em too bad. Got a let ‘em think you could take it or leave it. Make ‘em earn it.”

“You’re so full of shit. Especially when
I
know and
you
know that the girl you really want is standing right over there.” He lifted his chin towards Skylar.

“You’re full of shit.”

“Am I? What’s the problem? She ain’t givin’ you the time of day?”

“She’s with a brother. She’s not supposed to be giving me the time of day, now is she?”

“Point taken.”

Shades eyes followed Ashley as she moved off toward the food, but they soon lost interest and returned to Skylar.

She’d taken his money. Stolen his mother’s rosary. And now she was with one of his brothers, rubbing it in his damn face, and he had to stand here and take it.

Fucking hell.

Shades had tried satisfying the emptiness losing Skylar left with booze, pussy and the club. He’d turned his frustration at having to give her up into a determination to climb the ranks of the club, but he hadn’t counted on the fact that the pull he’d felt toward Skylar had only laid dormant in him all these years. Or that all it would take to reignite it was just one look at her. And he sure as hell hadn’t counted on her showing up on the back of a brother’s bike.

Since Skylar, he’d hardened. He’d tried replacing her, tried filling the emptiness he felt with a long line of pussy. Tried sating the need she’d left him with by leaving a string of broken hearts and devastation in his wake. He never looked back at any of those women. Not once in all these years. They knew the score. He was always upfront. He never made them any promises, but he always left them satisfied. He made sure of that.