SHADES: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series Book 3) (26 page)

“None for me, thanks.”

The bartender looked from Skylar to Blood, the bottle poised in the air, obviously unsure what to do.

“Fill it,” Blood told him.

The bartender filled the glass and made a hasty retreat.

Coward, Skylar thought.

Blood slid the glass toward her.

“Gotta toast the new club Princess.” He held his glass up waiting for her to clink glasses with him. Skylar blew out an exasperated breath and picked hers up, clinking his. He waited, his eyes on her until she brought the glass to her mouth and took a sip. She watched as his eyes fell on her mouth and stayed there, even as he tossed his back in one gulp. He set his glass on the bar, and then leaned on the bar, his arms folded, his head turned toward her.

“Say my name.”

She frowned, confused by his bizarre demand. He repeated it.

“Say my name.”

“Blood.”

“Remember it, Princess.”

“I’m not your Princess,
Blood
,” she spit out.

What could maybe pass as a smile pulled at one corner of his mouth, and then his eyes lifted over her head to Undertaker.

“She’s gonna be a handful.”

“I’m not going to be
anything
to you
,” she informed him.

“We’ll see, Angel.”

“Aren’t there some other women in the bar you could go bother? More your speed?”

His eyes narrowed, and then he straightened.

“Whatever you say, Princess. But know this—you and me, we’re not through.”

“Enough, Blood.” Undertaker’s voice was tight.

Blood moved off without another word.

She turned back to her father. “What’s his problem?”

“That’s just Blood being Blood.”

“Whatever.”

Undertaker gave her a knowing grin.

“What’s that grin supposed to mean?”

He smiled even wider, shaking his head. “Nothing, darlin’. Not a thing.”

Skylar shook her head and took a sip of her new drink. Movement in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar caught her eye. Three of the women that had followed Ghost back to the bar, headed to the restroom down the hall in the back. Skylar’s head swiveled to watch them.

Blood, who had taken up a spot in the doorway to the hall, suddenly put his arm out, his hand bracing on the opposite wall. He cut off the redhead at the end of the line, separating her from the herd. Skylar could see, even from her seat at the bar, when his eyes strayed down the girl’s body. And then he stepped closer, backing her against the wall, his mouth coming down on hers.

A moment later, she shoved him back. A loud crack resounded through the bar, turning everyone’s head as the girl slapped his face.

“Aw, Sugar. You’ve just done the dumbest thing in your whole life,” Mooch muttered to the girl from his place near Blood.

A scary grin pulled at Blood’s mouth as he looked down at her. “Don’t worry, Mooch, I love that in a woman.”

“Morals?” Mooch asked with a quirk of his brow.

“No. Violence.” His palm landed on the center of her chest, just over her breast bone and he pressed her back against the wall, pinning her there.

“Blood!” A voice boomed from the bar.

His head turned.

Undertaker snapped, “Let her go.”

Blood’s head came back to the scared girl looking up at him, and Skylar watched his eyes running over the girl’s face as if he were considering whether or not to comply.

“Blood!” Undertaker snapped again. “She’s just a tourist. She didn’t ask to play your kind of games. Let her be.”

Blood released her.

She scrambled out from between him and the wall, and shoved past several laughing brothers as she made for the door.

“You’re all fucking crazy!” she spat as she ran out followed by the men’s laughter.

Skylar’s eyes followed the girl’s retreat and then returned to Blood. He was staring right at her and grinning that cocky grin as if he’d done that just to get to her. She ran her hand over her throat as a chill went through her, her eyes still locked with his, and then she watched his eyes drop to the hand at her throat, and then further down to her chest.

Spinning on the barstool, she turned toward her father. “His kind of games? What does that mean?”

“Let’s just say, a man like Blood—he doesn’t ask nicely, he just takes what he wants. Some girls are down with that. Some aren’t. She obviously fell into the latter category.”

“And if you hadn’t stopped him?”

“Oh, I think we both know that little show was all about you.”

“Me?”

“Don’t play coy with me, honey. I was sitting right here.”

Skylar swallowed and looked away.

“Thought so.” Undertaker leaned closer to her. “Fair warning, you give him an opening—he’s gonna walk right in, darlin’.”

“I’m not…giving him an opening.”

Undertaker nodded. “That’s your call. Just so you know what you’re dealing with. He’s not a man to be trifled with.”

“I’m with Shades.”

“Maybe you are.”

“No, not maybe. I
am
.”

He gave her a condescending grin. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

“I don’t like you very much.”

He sobered immediately. “I just want what’s best for you. Whichever man that turns out to be.”

“That’s for me to decide.”

He just grinned that insufferable grin back at her.

“Wipe that smile off your face,” she snapped.

Then he burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“I smile because you’re my daughter. I laugh because there’s nothing you can do about it.”

She rolled her eyes as he continued to laugh.

Shades, Ghost and ‘Blondie’ came back into the bar. Blondie headed off to the restroom when Skylar told her that’s where her friends had gone. After she left, Ghost turned to Skylar.

“Do you have anything sharp I can stick in my eye?”

Skylar laughed. “She that bad?”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say I won’t be tattooing her name on my arm any time soon.”

Skylar almost spit her drink out. “Ghost, do you have someone’s name tattooed on you?”

Ghost groaned and looked over at Shades. “I don’t know when to shut up, do I?”

Shades chuckled. “Apparently not.”

“Let me see!” Skylar insisted with a grin.

Ghost shoved his short sleeve up to his shoulder and tapped his fingers on a large skull shaped design. “Used to be a name. I had it covered up.”

Skylar’s fingers reached out to touch the intricate art with awe. Then her eyes lifted to his.

“Do tattoos hurt?”

Ghost looked at her and said with a straight face, “Not at all. They feel like a million kittens licking your skin.”

Skylar turned to Shades. “I want to get a tattoo.”

He about choked on his beer before managing to bite out with brows raised, “Oh, hell no, you don’t.”

“Just how many drinks have you had, Hotrod?” Ghost asked with a grin, dropping his sleeve.

She grinned. “I don’t know. I lost count.”

****

Shades sipped his drink, waiting for Skylar to return from the restroom. The bar was now crowded with not only the club, but with other tourists. He finally spotted her making her way through the packed bar. As she passed a group of several guys, one of them stepped in front of her blocking her way, then he leaned down and whispered something in her ear. She gave him a pissed off look and tried to push past him, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

Shades was off his barstool in a flash, coming between the punk and Skylar, pushing her behind him.

“You don’t touch her, motherfucker,” Shades snapped.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Her ol’ man. What the fuck did you just say to her?”

“I asked her what the hell she was doing with a bunch of losers like you.”

Shades’ fist came out and connected with the man’s jaw, dropping him to the floor.

Skylar gasped and Ghost pulled her back out of the way.

“Sometimes people don’t know when to shut up,” Shades said, standing over the body of the guy he’d just knocked out.

“You got a short temper tonight, Brother?” Ghost asked, peering over Shades’ shoulder at the guy out cold on the floor.

Shades shook his hand out and flexed it. “I don’t have a short temper, I just have a low tolerance for bullshit.”

The guy groaned.

Shades kicked him in the gut. “Talk shit, get hit, motherfucker.”

“Why did he do that?” Skylar murmured from next to her father, where Ghost had shoved her.

“It was your honor he was fighting for, baby girl,” Undertaker said in a low voice. “Here, finish your drink.”

She turned away from the scene, a little shaken. She’d never seen Shades like that before.

Ghost came up behind her and bent to whisper in her ear. “Sometimes your knight in shining armor turns out to be a badass biker in dirty boots.”

Undertaker got up off his stool and pulled Skylar off hers. Then he hooked an arm around her shoulders and the other around Shades’.

“Let’s take a walk.”

He led them out of the bar. Over his shoulder he ordered, “Somebody take out the garbage.” About half the brothers followed them, the other half dragged the man out the doors, dumped him in the street and continued drinking.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Blood stood on the street outside the bar and dipped his head to light up a smoke. His eyes on the little group as they walked off down the street. One of his brothers came to stand by his side.

“I’ve got a bad feelin’ about this, Blood,” Sandman murmured.

“What? We’re having a nice night out, and Undertaker’s in a good mood.”

“So you feel it, too?”

Blood rolled his eyes and chuckled. “You’ve had too many beers.”

Sandman started silently counting on his fingers and then grinned. “In dog beers, I’ve only had one.”

Blood suppressed a grin as he took a hit off his cigarette, his eyes following Skylar as she walked away in the distance. “What do you think of her?”

Sandman shrugged. “Don’t know. Why?”

“She’s hot, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. She’s also Undertaker’s daughter.”

Blood looked back at him and grinned.

Sandman shook his head. “You always did like a challenge.”

****

Undertaker, Mooch, Shades, Skylar, Ghost, his harem of women and a few other brothers prowled the streets of the Quarter. They walked down St. Peter to Royal and cut over to Pirate’s Alley coming out at Jackson Square and skirting it on Chartres and St. Ann, taking in the Cathedral as well as all the street artists selling their paintings, the tables of fortune tellers, and the painted artists doing impressions of statues. There was a man dressed as a cowboy painted up in solid silver. Skylar stopped to pose next to him, and Shades took her picture with his cell phone, her bright laughing smile lighting up the shot. They moved on, crossing Decatur and ending at Café Du Monde. They got a table and ordered café au lait and beignets. Skylar couldn’t hold back her laughter seeing half a dozen leather-clad bikers, their scruffy beards covered in powder sugar as they wolfed down the sugary treats, leaning forward so as not to let it snow sugar onto their cuts.

They eventually headed back to the bar to hook up with the rest of the club. Undertaker had taken a seat next to Skylar again, but he went back outside to talk to some of his guys and smoke a cigarette.

While he was gone, Blood moved onto his vacant stool.

Shades was turned the other way, talking to Ghost and hadn’t noticed.

Skylar looked over at Blood, admittedly a little nervous that he’d approached her. He smiled at her, and his eyes dropped to the feather boa she had wrapped around her neck. He lifted his hand and stroked down the feathers with the back of his fingers.

“I could think of some uses for that boa,” he purred in a deep voice.

Skylar looked back at her drink, trying to ignore him, which only encouraged him. She felt his fingers brushing the hair back from her face.

“Don’t go all shy on me, Princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” Skylar bit out, pulling away from his touch. Spinning on the barstool, she turned toward Shades who was leaning the other way, his head dipped as Ghost said something in his ear and nodded toward Blood. She’d never seen Shades head swivel so fast, his eyes narrowing on Blood, and then he was up and off his barstool, moving around her to get to Blood.

Skylar reached out her hand, trying to grab him, but he shook off her hold. Blood rose from his stool ready for the confrontation. As she slid off her stool to try to come between them, Skylar felt a solid arm wrap around her waist, and she was pulled back against a hard chest. She twisted to see her captor.

Ghost.

He dipped his head and whispered in her ear. “Let your man handle this.”

“But…” She turned her head back to see that Shades and Blood were toe to toe, eye to eye in some kind of standoff. And then both Shades’ fists slammed into Blood’s chest, shoving him back a foot.

“Get her out of here,” she heard Undertaker growl from behind her as he moved back into the bar.

And then a split second before all hell broke loose, Ghost’s arm hooked around Skylar’s ribcage, and he practically lifted her off her feet as he yanked her out of the way, spinning her and walking her toward the entrance, her arms and legs flaying to get free. She could hear a scuffle behind her, chairs scraping and brothers running to break up the fight. When Skylar finally twisted free of Ghost’s hold, she turned to witness a sea of leather cuts shoving the two men apart.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” Shades jabbed a finger toward Blood as two men held him back, and Mooch stood in front of him, shoving him back.

“Calm the fuck down!” Mooch yelled at Shades.

Skylar’s eyes moved to Blood to see him grinning back at Shades with a smirk, and then Ghost was hauling her out the door and out of sight of the fight.

****

Shades glared at Blood. Motherfucker better get out of his sight.

“Blood,” Undertaker shouted. “Sit back down.” He pointed toward the back end of the bar by the hallway to the restrooms. He stood there, eyeing him down until Blood finally shrugged off his brother’s hold and moved to the far end of the bar. Then Undertaker turned back to Shades
.
He grabbed a fistful of his vest and hauled him close. In a threateningly low voice he growled, “Calm the fuck down.”

Shades’ fist clamped around Undertaker’s thick wrist and wrenched his hold loose. “Get your hands off me.”

Undertaker’s eyes narrowed on him for a moment, and then he backed off. He nodded toward the front of the bar. “We need to talk.”

“Done talking.”

“Humor me. I got something to say to you.”

Shades stalked to the other end of the bar, and Undertaker followed. They sat, and Undertaker waved over the bartender, getting them both another drink. After the bartender served them and withdrew, Undertaker turned to Shades. He was quiet a moment, and then he announced, “I don’t fucking know you. I don’t know what kind of a man you are except for what those colors you wear say about you. So let me be clear. You hurt my girl, I’ll see those colors ripped off your back. You got that?”

“Told you, old man, she’s mine. I take care of what’s mine. No one is going to hurt her. Especially me.”

“When you leave here, I’m trusting you to keep her safe.”

Shades nodded.

“But, just to be sure, I’m sending a couple boys back with you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”

Shades glared at him.

“Consider it an escort. You don’t have a problem with me puttin’ more men on her, do you?”

Shades took in an aggravated breath, riled at the thought that Undertaker didn’t really trust him to keep her safe. “You think I ain’t up to the task?”

“There are two of you.” He lifted his chin toward Ghost, who was standing outside with Skylar. “You run into a pack of DKs, get into a situation where you’re outnumbered, it won’t matter how tough you are.”

Shades glared at him.

“Son, put yourself in my shoes. I’m her father. I haven’t been there for her, for her whole life. I need to do this.”

Shades clenched his jaw, and then nodded his head once.

Undertaker stalked off to the other end of the bar. Ghost walked back in with Skylar and watched him go. With a grin, he observed sarcastically, “And everything seemed to be going so well.”

Shades turned and slugged him in the chest, and then grabbed Skylar’s hand and stalked back outside, Ghost’s laughter following him.

“You okay?” he asked her as soon as they stepped out the doors.

She nodded. “I don’t like when you fight.”

He dipped his head to light a cigarette, and then looked at her as he blew a pissed off stream of smoke out. “And I don’t like when guys overstep their bounds with you.”

Skylar swallowed and looked back into the bar. “Maybe we should just leave.”

He nodded, taking another drag off his cigarette, his eyes moving to the crowd on Bourbon Street. “So, you get enough time with your father?”

Her eyes searched his face. “It wasn’t my idea to come down here, Shades.”

His eyes came back to her. “It wasn’t mine either. And it sure as hell wasn’t my idea to see the Quarter.”

“Fine. Then let’s go.” She whirled to head for his bike, He tossed his cigarette into the street and grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“I’m sorry. I’m pissed and I’m taking it out on you.” He pulled her into his arms. She was stiff at first, but then she melted into him.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” she whispered against his chest.

He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t want to fight either. It’s just been a hell of a day.”

“Imagine how I feel.”

He tightened his hold on her, giving her a hug. “I know. You’ve had a lot thrown at you today.”

“Shades?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to pee.”

He grinned and let her go. “Okay, babe. You go pee and I’ll see if Undertaker’s ready to leave.”

“And if he’s not?”

“Then we’re leaving anyway.”