CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) (13 page)

“I
suppose Cole told you I was coming,” Mack surmised.

Crash
nodded. “Yeah, he did.”

Mack
just glared at him and then stalked across the room toward the island. He
paused, taking in Shannon. Then he spun around, stalking across the room and
back, his hand raking through his hair, frustration rolling off him.

Crash
noted his eyes taking in the pillow and blanket on the couch. He rose and moved
toward the coffeemaker. Pulling down a mug, he picked up the pot and filled it,
then held it out to Mack, who glared at him, then accepted the cup.

“Suppose
this is why you’ve been AWOL for so much shit.”

“I
haven’t been AWOL for anything.”

“Yeah,
Cole’s covered your ass. His ass I’ll deal with later.”

Shannon
turned toward Wolf and Red Dog and whispered, “Would you like some coffee?”

Wolf smiled at her. “I’ll have some, darlin’.”

Red Dog looked over at him. “What, one brush with death ain’t enough for
you?”

Shannon shook her head. “No rat poison. Cross my heart.”

Mack looked down at his cup. “Wait. What?”

Crash fought to not smile. “It’s fine, Mack. Just an inside joke about
her coffee making abilities.”

“Brother, right now, her coffee making abilities are the least of your
worries.”

“Maybe
we could have this discussion up on the roof? Just you and me?”

Mack
grunted. “Maybe you should let the little heiress hear this.”

“Mack.”

“Fine.
I could use a smoke anyway.”

Crash
led him outside. Dropping to a chair, he pulled his pack of smokes out from
under his seat. It was definitely a two-smoke cheat day. He put the cigarette
to his lips and flicked his lighter open. Drawing deep, he looked over at Mack,
who’d taken a seat next to him and was puffing on a cigar to get it lit. “How
much do you know?”

“Apparently,
I don’t know shit. You wanna fill me in?”

Crash
blew out a stream of smoke. “She came to Cole for help. Has an ex-boyfriend
stalking her. Felt she couldn’t go to the police. Whatever.” Cole waved his
cigarette in the air, dismissing that part of the story. “Cole wasn’t about to
bring this shit to the club or bring her home. I volunteered. Here we are.”

Mack
puffed on his cigar, studying Crash. His eyebrows rose. “That’s it?”

“Pretty
much.”

“Huh.”

Crash
looked off at the horizon, not believing for a second that Mack was gonna let
this go.

“So,
you’re not hittin’ that?”

Crash
took another drag off his smoke. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

A
broad smile cut across Mack’s face. “Looked to me like you were relegated to
the couch. Don’t look like there’s any kissin’ to tell, brother.”

Crash
gritted his teeth. “No, I guess not.”

Mack
took several more puffs on his cigar. Then he pulled it from his mouth and
studied it. “Bring her to the BBQ at the clubhouse Sunday.”

Crash’s
gaze swung to him. He was stunned speechless. “What?”

“You
heard me.”

For
lack of any desire to make matters worse with Mack, he agreed. “All right.”

“You
do
know she’s a missing person,
right?”

“Saw
it on the news last night. Had her call the cops, tell ‘em it was all a
misunderstanding, and she’s fine.”

“Uh-huh.”
Mack studied him. “Seems like there’s more to this story.”

“I
think there probably is. More than either of us is getting.”

He
grinned. “Well, nothing like a little intrigue to keep things interesting.”

They
both smoked and studied the horizon.

Crash
finally broke the silence. “So, you’re good with this.”

“Didn’t
say that. You watching out for her, I’m good with. You and Cole keepin’ shit
from me, I am
not
good with.” He
puffed on his cigar. “That will be dealt with.”

Crash
nodded. “Fair enough.”

“Oh,
there ain’t gonna be anything fair about it. If there’s a shit detail, you and
Cole are gonna be on it. Don’t for a minute doubt that.”

Fuck.

“Go
get your house guest. I want to talk to her.”

“Mack.”

“Now.”

Crash
blew out a breath. Flicking his smoke into the alley below, he rose and went
inside.

Two
minutes later, Crash and Shannon emerged onto the roof. She followed behind
him, the coffee mug still clutched in her hand. Crash stopped next to his chair
and waved for her to take a seat. She threw him a nervous glance, and then
looked over at Mack.

“Good
morning,” she murmured, taking a seat.

“Morning.
Glad you could join us.”

“Shannon,
this is Mack. Mack, Shannon,” Crash made the introductions.

Mack’s
eyes swept over her. “So, you’re hiding out, huh?”

Her
eyes lifted to Crash’s as he stood above her. He nodded, indicating she should
answer. He’d already told her downstairs that he’d talked to Mack. He watched
her gaze drop, and she turned back to Mack. “Yes, I suppose that’s what you
could call this.”

He
nodded. “How long’s that gonna work?”

“He
should be leaving the country in a couple of weeks. If I can just lie low until
then…”

“What
do your parents know?”

“They
know I’m okay, but they don’t know where I am.”

“And
the missing person report?”

“I’m
not sure. I’m guessing my father was trying to force my hand and make me
return.”

“He
offered a reward for you. A big one. You know about that?”

Crash
hadn’t heard that part of the report, and he knew Shannon hadn’t either. He
looked down at her, studying her reaction to that news. She looked a little
shaken.

“No.
I didn’t.”

“Your
father know about your fear of this guy?” Mack cut straight to the heart of the
matter.

She
swallowed. “Well, he knows, he just doesn’t agree that there’s any need for
concern. He thinks I’m overreacting and being ridiculous.”

Mack
puffed on his cigar, his eyes intense on her. “Um-huhm.”

Crash
stared down at Shannon, and her eyes lifted to him. He looked over at Mack. “We
done here?”

“Yeah.”
He stood up, tossing his cigar over the edge into the alley. “I’ll see you both
tomorrow.” And then he moved toward the door.

Shannon’s
eyes swung back to Crash. “Tomorrow?”

“Let
me walk him out,” he answered, without answering. He walked Mack inside. Wolf
and Red Dog were leaning against the island, waiting.

“That
story’s full of more holes that a slab of Swiss cheese,” Mack stated, turning
back to him.

Crash
grinned. “Yeah. You’re right. But it’s the only one she’ll give any of us.”

Mack
grunted. “Women.” He turned to Wolf and Red Dog. “Let’s go.”

They
all stepped onto the elevator. Mack paused before closing the gate and turned
back to Crash. “You do realize the boys are gonna be fallin’ all over her
tomorrow, right?” He nodded back toward the roof and Shannon. “So, you better
decide if you’re goin’ there or not. Don’t need you beating every motherfucker
that looks twice at her to a pulp. You get me?”

“I
get you.”

Mack
slammed the gate closed and descended. Crash punched in the code to raise the
door. After they rode out, he closed it again. Then, grabbing the half empty
coffee pot, he returned to the roof and Shannon.

She
sat staring out at the horizon, and he wondered what was going through her
head. Pausing next to her chair, he held the pot aloft. “Warm it up?”

She
nodded. “God, yes.”

He
grinned, topping her mug off. Then he moved to the chair Mack had vacated and
picked his own mug up off the ground and refilled it. Setting the empty carafe
down, he leaned back, raising the steaming mug to his mouth.

“Will
he turn me in?” Shannon asked out of the blue.

His
eyes swung to her. “Turn you in?”

“For
the reward? Will he give me up for the money?”

Crash
studied her over the rim of his mug, and then he was honest with her. “Ain’t
gonna lie to you, babe. It may have crossed his mind. But I don’t think even
Mack would sink that low. He’s no rat.”

“He’s
intimidating, isn’t he?” It was more of a statement than a question, but he
answered it anyway.

“Yep.”

“He
talks so calmly, but there’s an underlying edge there, isn’t there?”

Crash
nodded. “Your instincts are pretty good.”

“My
instincts are warning me he’s dangerous.”

“Your
instincts would be right. He is dangerous. And every brother you meet tomorrow
is just as dangerous.”

“Even
you?”

He
paused with the mug half way to his mouth. “Even me, Princess.”

CHAPTER TEN

The
next day, Shannon was in the bedroom finishing putting together her outfit for
the BBQ. Crash stepped into the doorway, and she looked up. “I’m almost ready.”

His
eyes swept over her, and she could see the heat flare to life in them. His jaw
clenched, and then he said, “No, you’re not.”

“What
do you mean? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” she asked looking down at her
outfit.

“Nothing.
It’s pretty and classy and looks great on you, but-”

“But
what?” she asked, her hands landing on her hips. Before she realized what he
was about, he’d grabbed her hand and was pulling her along behind him into the
bathroom. Stopping in front of the large mirror, he pointed to their reflection.

“Do
we make sense to you?”

She
stared at the reflection of the two of them. He was in his jeans, biker boots
and a black S&S Carburetor tee shirt, his muscled arms covered in tattoos.
He was the walking-talking epitome of badass, dangerous, sex-on-a-stick. Her
gaze slid over to herself in her peach silk tank and blue pleated trousers and
her high-heeled snake-skin sandals. She looked fine. But together—he was right,
they looked ridiculous, unless she was his lawyer bailing him out of jail.

“If
you’re trying to blend in, that outfit ain’t it. You’ll stand out like a sore
thumb.”

“I
see what you mean.” She met his gaze in the mirror. “But I don’t have any
clothes that will work.”

She
watched as he pulled out his cell phone. “What are you doing?”

“Calling
in backup.” His thumb moved over the pad, and he put it to his ear. “Angel, Crash.
Hey, baby. Fine, and you? Good. Baby, I got a little situation here. I was
hoping maybe you and Crystal could help.”

Forty-five
minutes later they were stepping off the elevator with armloads of clothes
thrown over their arms.

“Hey,
sweetheart. Thanks for coming.” Crash hugged Angel, taking the burden from her
arms and setting it down across the couch. Then he repeated the process with
Crystal. “Crystal, this is Shannon. Shannon, Crystal.”

They
nodded to one another, and Crystal eyed her outfit up and down, her arms
folded. She circled around Shannon, making her feel very uncomfortable.

“I
see what you mean. Hmm—I can work with the snakeskin sandals. But the rest has
to go.” Crystal passed judgment.

Angel
turned to Crash. “We got this. Pick her up in an hour, now shoo.”

He
grinned, glad to escape the hen fest. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once
Crash left the building, Angel turned to Shannon. “Look through what we
brought. See if anything feels like you.”

Shannon
nodded toward Crystal. “I like what Crystal’s wearing.” Her eyes swept over the
tight baby-doll tank with the tiny lace trim, down over the expanse of exposed
belly to the belted denim shorts that came just past her ass, and down to the
combat-type boots she wore. The whole thing was topped off with several strands
of chain necklaces and dozens of bracelets on each wrist.

“That’s
Crystal’s style. That’s not you. What would
you
wear to a BBQ? Let’s start there,” Angel suggested.

A
half hour later, after sorting through all the clothes, Shannon was modeling an
outfit. She was dressed in a pair of white, short-shorts, a bright orange tank
top with the back straps twisted into a rope that ran down the center of her
spine. Two gold metal circles attached the straps to the bodice of the tank at
the front that hung loosely to her hip. They’d accessorized her with a pair of
dangling gold disc earrings and platform sandals.

“She
can’t wear the cute platforms riding,” Crystal commented.

“Sure
she can,” Angel insisted. “I’ll leave you an old pair of my boots when you go
riding, but I think for today, you’ll be fine. You’re only going to the
clubhouse and back.”

“It’s
forty miles,” Crystal pointed out.

“But
they look so cute with the outfit.” Angel wasn’t giving in.

Crystal
rolled her eyes. “Not sure this is what Crash had in mind when he called us to
redress her.”

“Crash
doesn’t know beans about women’s clothes. Besides, we could give her a ride to
the club, it that’s his problem with this outfit.”

Crystal
grinned, taking in the long length of Shannon’s tanned legs and the way the
shorts hugged her ass. “Yeah,
that’s
gonna be his problem with this outfit. The shoes.”

Angel
smiled conspiratorially at Crystal.

“Oh,
I see your game.”

“What?”
Shannon asked.

“Nothing,
hon. I’m sure this will be fine.” Angel smiled at her.

Shannon
looked down at herself. “Are you sure? I thought you’d be dressing me in a
Harley tee and jeans.”

The
women ignored her.

“She
needs to go braless,” Crystal commented.

“She
doesn’t need to be skanky,” Angel disagreed. “Crash can have skanky any day of
the week. What Shannon’s got going for her is her beauty and class. It’s like
she’s some unattainable ideal.”

“Well,
you don’t want her to seem too unattainable. I say braless—that’ll get his
attention,” Crystal reiterated.

“The
strapless bra. It’s sexy as hell,” Angel asserted.

“But
it shows,” Crystal argued.

“All
the better—a little peek can be very flirty.”

“Better
braless.” Crystal wouldn’t give up.

“She’s
not easy. That says easy,” Angel insisted.

Twenty
minutes later, when Crash stepped off the elevator, they had helped her with
her hair and makeup, arguing about that as well. Angel wanted to sweep it up to
show off Shannon’s sexy bare back and shoulders. Crystal insisted men liked
women’s hair down. Angel, as usual, won out, insisting Shannon could start out
with it up, and then let it down later in the day. That way, they both win.

Shannon
rolled her eyes and went with the flow.

Now
she was standing in front of Crash as his eyes swept over her, feeling almost
like a show-horse put up for sale. His gaze heated, his eyes turning molten,
especially as they trailed over the length of her long legs and ass. His eyes
finally lifted to meet Shannon’s a split second before they swung to Angel.
“You’re shittin’ me, right?”

Angel
grinned. “No, we are most definitely not ‘shitting’ you. She looks great. This
is what she’s wearing, so deal with it.”

“You’re
a mouthy little thing, aren’t you?”

She
rolled her eyes. “Like you’re just now figuring that out.”

“You
really expect me to take her to the club dressed like this?” He raised his
hand, palm up toward Shannon.

“What’s
the problem?”

“The
problem is every guy there is gonna fall all over her.”

Angel
grinned. “Then you’d better be on top of your game. I’m sure you can handle
it.”

“Wench.”

“You
love me.”

“Lucky
for you.” He hooked the back of her neck and pulled her to him, kissing her
forehead.

Angel
hugged his waist, and then moved on to hug Shannon, whispering in her ear.
“Don’t let him scare you.”

“You’re
sure about this?” she whispered back.

Letting
her go, she said, “See you at the club.”

And
off they went, leaving the pile of clothes for Shannon to use for the rest of
her stay.

“Thank
you both,” Shannon said, waiving them off. Crash escorted them down to their
car.

When
he returned, Shannon turned on Crash. “Do you want me to change?” She indicated
the pile of clothes that had been torn through.

He
glanced down at the pile and snapped, “Forget it. I can only imagine how long
that’d take.”

Her
hands went to her hips. “Very funny. You’re the one that’s not happy with this.”
She threw herself down, sitting on the couch with her arms folded. “I can just
stay here, how about that?”

Crash
folded his arms, his legs spread. “Mack wants you there. That means you’re
going. End of story.”

“But
you
don’t want me there, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Cause
you’re gonna be trouble. Pure and simple.”

“Trouble?
How am
I
going to be trouble?”

“I’m
sure you’ll figure out a way. Come on, let’s go get this over with.”

She
stood up. “Are you going to be like this all day?”

“Probably.
Come on.”