SHADES: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series Book 3) (23 page)

BOOK: SHADES: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series Book 3)
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“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that. At least come over here, and give me a shot of what’s under that towel.”

“You know what’s under this towel.”

“Yeah, don’t mean I don’t want to see it every chance I get.”

She blew him a kiss as she moved toward her pack, dug through it for a change of clothes and returned to the bathroom, closing the door.

 

****

 

Ten minutes later, Skylar came back out and moved toward the in-room coffee maker. She was dying for a cup of coffee. After fiddling with it for a minute, she had a pot brewing.

Ghost lifted his head off the pillow as the rich aroma filled the room. “Make me a cup, darlin’.”

Skylar turned to him and smiled. She glanced over at Shades, but he appeared dead to the world. It didn’t take long for that man to fall back asleep.

When the coffee was ready, Skylar poured two cups and carried one in each hand. She held one out to Ghost. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing a handful of sheet to keep his crotch covered. Her eyes skated over all the exposed skin.

“Thanks. You’re an angel.” He took the cup from her hand and took a sip.

“You have a girl, Ghost?”

His eyes met hers over the rim of his cup, and he almost choked. Pulling the cup away and swallowing, he replied, “What?”

“A girl. An ol’ lady. Do you have one?”

“Nope. Why?”

She shrugged. “You’re a good looking guy. I figured with your looks and your humor, there had to be someone.”

“Thanks, darlin’.” He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back.

Shades twisted in the bed, turning to look, his hair rumpled from sleep, he grumbled, “Quite tryin’ to steal my woman.”

“Wouldn’t be hard, cranky ass,” Ghost replied, smiling at Skylar.

“And where’s
my
coffee?” Skylar and Ghost both chuckled at his pouting, and then she moved to get Shades coffee. When she handed it to him, he asked, “Isn’t it your man you’re supposed to bring coffee to first?”

She rolled her eyes. “I was just being nice.”

“You don’t have to be nice to Ghost. He’s used to women being mean to him.”

“Hey, speak for yourself, whiny ass. Women
love
me
.”

“Yeah, right.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

 

They loaded up the bikes again and headed down the road. A couple hours later, they arrived in Slidell, and Shades and Ghost pulled the bikes into the parking lot of a bar and grill.

Skylar followed Shades inside, her hand gripped firmly in his. He pulled a stool out for her while he and Ghost took the stools on either side of her. Shades ordered them a couple of beers, and then he pulled his cell out of his pocket and made a call.

It was a short phone call, telling whoever was on the other end that they were here, and to meet them down at Boudreaux’s.

When he disconnected, she asked him, “Who was that?”

He looked over at her. “Brothers are gonna come and lead us into the clubhouse. We’ve never been there, and apparently it’s hard to find.”

“Oh.”

“You hungry?” he asked, looking down at her beer.

She shrugged. “I could eat.”

“You, Ghost?”

“Yeah, I’m starved, Brother.”

Shades motioned the bartender over and ordered them all shrimp po’boys. When the food came, Skylar tore into it.

“Mmm, this is awesome. I can’t believe I’ve never had one of these,” she exclaimed enthusiastically around a mouthful of food.

Shades grinned at her and reached to wipe a glob of sauce off her mouth. “Glad you like it, babe.”

They were just finishing their food when the door opened, and in strolled two guys in Evil Dead cuts, except the bottom rocker on theirs read Louisiana. Shades and Ghost both got up off their stools and did the whole ‘back-slap’ thing that men do. Skylar stayed seated, her eyes running over the two men.

After Shades took care of the bill, they headed outside, and they all mounted up. Shades and Ghost followed the two men out of the parking lot. They rode out of town and down several back roads. They passed some old fish camps, houses up on stilts over the water of the many inlets. There was Spanish moss hanging from the trees that hung over the road creating an eerily beautiful canopy for them to pass under. At several points the narrow road they were on ran adjacent to the bayou, no more than ten yards from the pavement. Skylar couldn’t help but gaze around wondering about alligators.

Eventually they pulled into what reminded Skylar of a stockade. There was a tall wooden privacy fence surrounding the entire compound. The gates swung open as they approached, and Skylar realized there were a couple of guys up on a walkway behind the wall next to the gate. Once they passed through, two men scrambled to push the heavy gates closed again.

There was a large dirt and gravel parking lot with a big metal building that sat to the back of the property. The front section of the v-shaped roof extended out over a cement slab creating a large covered patio. On it were four picnic tables scattered around. About two-dozen bikes were parked out front.

They parked the bikes in an open space and climbed off. Shades grabbed Skylar’s hand and pulled her along behind him until they were out of the line of bikes.

Skylar’s eyes were darting everywhere, taking it all in, the clubhouse, the number of bikes, the brothers smoking by the corner, and the guy at the door. She pulled back.

That must have gotten his attention because Shades turned back to her, tightening his grip on her hand. “Skylar, eyes on me.”

Her wide eyes came to him immediately.

“You’re with me. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, understand?”

She nodded.

“Just stay close.”

“Okay.”

They walked through the door, following the two men that had come to lead them here. The inside of the building was cavernous. Skylar had expected the ceiling to go all the way to the roof, with exposed metal beams and such, but the ceiling was low, indicating there must be a second story above them. There was a large half-circle bar on the right with about a dozen bar stools. Recessed lighting cast the room in a soft amber shade. The floor was polished concrete stained to a rich caramel colored. Some tables sat off to the left. Then there were a couple of pool tables also on the left. Further back in the far right corner, Skylar could see a small workout area set up with weights and punching bags.

The building also appeared to be empty, except for a couple of prospects over behind the bar.  That’s where the two men led them.

“Grouch, get them whatever they want,” the bald one ordered one of the prospects. Then he turned to Shades and Ghost and ordered, “Wait here. I’ll tell Undertaker you’re here.”

They both moved off toward a large staircase in the back of the room.

Once they’d disappeared, the prospect came over and asked, “What’ll you have?”

Shades turned to Skylar. She looked at the prospect and said, “I’ll have a cola if you have one.”

“Sure thing.” He nodded and reached below him into a cooler, pulled a can out and set it in front of her.

The men both opted for a beer, and two long necks were set in front of them.

Ghost turned to Shades. “You got about two minutes before they come back, Brother. You might want to give her a heads up.” He nodded in Skylar’s direction, and she frowned wondering what he was referring to.

“Not exactly the way Butcher wanted it.”

“Don’t be an ass. No matter what Butcher said, you can’t let her walk in there blind.”

Shades set his bottle down, and Skylar could see his jaw clench. What on earth was going on? And what did Ghost mean ‘let her go in there blind’? Go in where blind?

Before she could form the words to ask, Shades was off his stool and pulling her across the room, out of earshot of the two prospects, who were trying to look busy wiping down the spotless bar.

Shades came to a stop on the other side of one of the pool tables and turned to face her. He took her other hand in his, holding both of them, and he looked down at her.

“I’ve got to come clean with you about this trip, sweetheart.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Gotta tell you something. I need you to keep your cool and hear me out.”

“Okay.” He was really starting to scare her.

“There was a reason we came down here. A reason I brought
you
down here.”

“To lay low from the DKs, right?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Butcher wanted Undertaker to meet you.”

“Who’s Undertaker?”

“New Orleans Chapter President.”

“Why in the world would he want me to meet him?”

“Because, he thinks—” Shades blew out a breath. “He may be your father.”


What?

“Just listen to me a minute before you freak out. That photo strip you have of your mother. When Slick saw it, he recognized the man in the photo. It was Undertaker.”

Skylar started to try to pull free of his grasp, feeling completely betrayed, but he held on tight. “Let me go. Why would you do this to me?”

“Listen to me, Skylar. This wasn’t my idea. I didn’t want to bring you here. I had no choice.”

“I want to go home. I don’t want any part of this. Let me go.”

“I can’t, baby. He wants to meet you.”

“Well, I don’t want to meet him!” She was suddenly filled with an uncontrollable rage. She didn’t know this man they claimed may be her father. He was a complete stranger to her. And where had he been all this time? How could he have left her to be put in foster care? All those years she’d felt alone and abandoned.
He’d
done that to her.
He’d
put her through all that. Why?

Shades’ grip on her held tight. “It’s happening, Skylar. You have to accept it.”

“Because you’ve given me no choice!” she shrieked, panicked. She felt like she’d been backed into a corner, which never failed to make her want to come out swinging. She began to really fight him, twisting and kicking and trying to run. He spun her and got her in a tight hold from behind, his arms wrapped like steel bands around her upper arms and chest.

“Settle down and behave yourself!” When she finally settled, he growled, “Goddamn it, woman, you’re always so fuckin’ quick to run.”

“I don’t want to see him,” she whispered brokenly. He turned her in his arms to face him.

“Swear to God, Sky, no lie, you meet him and we’re out of here. I promise.” He paused to study her face, and she knew he could read how unconvinced she was. “Don’t you want to know? Isn’t there some part of you that’s longed for this day? Don’t you have anything you want to say to the man?”

His words sifted through her brain and suddenly her mind did an about face, and she did want to see him, if only just to tell him off, if only just to tell him what a lowlife she thought he was for abandoning her. Her and her mother, too.

She heard boots stomping down the stairs at the back of the room and looked over Shades shoulder to see the two men returning. They stopped between Ghost at the bar and Shades by the pool table, but their eyes were on her and Shades.

“He’s waiting. Top of the stairs, door at the end of the hall.” The man nodded toward the stairs.

Shades nodded, and with one hand locked firm around hers, he moved out from behind the table pulling her behind him.

As they passed Ghost, he reached an arm out and grabbed her other arm, stopping them. Shades looked back at him questioningly, but Ghost’s eyes were locked with Skylar’s.

“Remember what we talked about yesterday. Show me that backbone, girl.”

She nodded and straightened, her chin coming up.

He winked at her and released her arm. His eyes moved to Shades’ for a moment, and he nodded.

Shades continued on, leading her toward the stairs. She glanced back to see Ghost watching them. When they got to the top, the hallway was a long one with numerous doors off it on both sides
. And one door at the end.

Skylar stared at it and felt like she was being led to slaughter. Ghost’s words returned to her, and it strengthened her resolve to get through this farce as Shades led her down the long hall. They passed a set of double doors on the left and Skylar could hear a jumble of voices coming from behind it like there was some kind of meeting going on. They continued on past it.

Ten feet from the door at the end of the hall, Shades suddenly stopped, pulled her to him and grabbed her face in his hands. “I promise you, it’s all gonna be all right, Skylar.”

“You don’t know that.” Her voice came out in barely a whisper.

“Baby, you gotta have some faith in me.”

She looked up into his eyes a long moment and then nodded. “I do, Shades. I do. I’m just so angry.”

“With me?”

“No, with him. So angry and…so scared.”

“Listen to me. If he is your father, we’ll deal with it. And if he does something to upset you, I’ll deal with him. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

Her eyes got big. “You’re not going in with me?”

He shook his head. “You gotta do this on your own, Sky.” Then he led her the last few steps and tapped on the door.

“Come in,” she heard a man’s deep voice growl.

Shades reached for the knob and swung the door open, stepping back to let her pass him. She walked three steps into the room, noticing that Shades stayed in the doorway, his hand on the knob.

It was a very large office. There was a large desk with a couple of empty chairs facing it. Behind it sat a man. He was the only person in the room. He had his head down at first, and he was rubbing his palms together in a nervous way and suddenly she realized he must be as nervous about this meeting as she was. But that didn’t reduce her anger at him. Finally, his eyes lifted, hesitantly, reluctantly, almost as if he was afraid to look up and get his first look at her. Was he afraid he would recognize something in her or afraid he wouldn’t?

“Skylar?” he asked, standing.

She nodded and hearing a click behind her, she looked back to see that Shades had left her alone. Her eyes came back to the man who claimed to be her father. He walked around the desk and took a few steps toward her, his eyes running over her face.

“My God. I can’t believe it. You look just like her.” He stopped, a stunned expression on his face, it was almost as if he was looking at a ghost. “My Angie.”

At that, Skylar’s eyes flared. “I’m not my mother. I’m not your Angie. I’m not your anything!”

He visibly flushed at her outburst.

“I knew your mother.”

She looked at him, really looked at him. He was in his early fifties, maybe. His dark hair was peppered with gray, as was his goatee, but there was no denying. He was the man in the picture. She’d stared at it enough over the years to know that much.

“So, what of it?” she snapped, not about to make this easy for him.

“Angie and I had a baby together. A little girl.
You
. I loved Angie, and I loved you. But I got sent to prison shortly after that. After about a year, she stopped coming to visit, she stopped writing. I spent eleven years in prison. When I got out, I couldn’t find her. She’d moved and—”

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