SHADES: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series Book 3) (32 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY

Shades pulled out of Skylar and slid off her. Turning her and spooning up to her back, he wrapped his arms around her. He nuzzled her neck, and then he gave her earlobe a nip before his voice was in her ear.

“You good, baby?”

She grinned. “I’m great.”

“How’s your new job going?”

They’d been back for a couple weeks now. Shades had put the word out in the club as soon as they got back that Skylar was looking for a job. Tink had told him her uncle, who was a partner in a realty company, had a training program for people interested in becoming realtors. She’d gotten Skylar an interview, which had gone great, and she was now in the program.

“I really like it.”

“That’s great, baby.”

“Yes. Everybody is really nice. I really like the idea of finding people homes.”

“Happy for you, sweetheart.”

“One thing worries me, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, they had this photographer there today. He was taking professional head shots of all the realtors. They told me they use them for business cards, yard signs and such.”

“Yeah, so?”

“They went ahead and took my picture, too. Put me in this gold jacket and everything. Shades, I’m worried about those pictures.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I really don’t want my picture on yard signs. Of course, it’ll be a while before I actually have any clients of my own. The training program lasts a long time. It’ll probably take me six months before I’m licensed.”

“Let’s not worry about that now. I’m sure the DK problem will be taken care of by then.”

She snuggled back against him, her arms covering his. “How?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Let me worry about that, baby. That’s my job now. Takin’ care of you. Keepin’ you safe and happy.”

She sucked her lips into her mouth, and he could tell he hadn’t eased all her fears. He rolled her to face him. Taking her face in both his hands he brought her eyes to his. “Hey, look at me. You’re everything to me, Sky. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. No one’s taking you away from me again. Not your dad, not my club, and sure as fuck not the DKs. You hear me?”

She nodded, her throat closing.

“Okay, then. Get some sleep, my baby.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and then pulled her to him, tucking her head in his neck.

****

Frank Bowman and his partner Gary Jenkins, had owned Progressive Realty for about ten years now. It was a damned competitive business, and they were always looking for any edge they could. Frank leaned back in his executive chair and said, “So we need to decide who to put up on the billboard.”

Gary stood on the other side of Frank’s desk staring down at their options. He shuffled through the photos, his hand pushing them around on the desktop until he stopped on one.

“I think we have a winner.” He twirled it around and slid it towards Frank.

Frank looked down.

“The others on the team are going to have a jealous fit if you put this newbie up on the sign. Hell, Janice has the highest sales. She’s going to expect—”

“Janice has a horse face. Who’d want to look at that billboard? No. This is the face that will bring in business. She’s gorgeous. Look at that smile. Hell,
I
want to buy a house from her.”

“All right. Fine. We’ll go with her.”

“How soon will the billboards go up?”

“Should be able to get them up right away.”

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Butcher sat at the head of the table, leaning forward on his elbows. His eyes traveled around the room. “We’ve got a problem with the Gulf Coast Chapter. Some of you may already be aware. They’re getting out of hand. Reckless unnecessary violence. Drawing attention of local law enforcement and probably the Feds. Not to mention the accounting problems.”

“Accounting problems?” one of them asked.

Butcher looked at him, and then swung his gaze to Shades, who was leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “You were down there. What’s your impression?”

Shades met his stare. “My impression is that a couple of specific members are using more product than is hitting the streets.”

There was a general grumbling around the table.

“Fuck.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Anything else?” Butcher snapped.

“Yeah. That’s what’s fueling the violence. But you’ve got to understand the position we put them in. They’ve got the Death Heads pushing in from Florida. Breathin’ down their necks. Knockin’ on their fuckin’ door. Had a run in with ‘em on the Florida-Bama line when I was down there. Those boys are the only thing holding ‘em back. And we’re the ones that hung ‘em out there in the wind.”

“And what do you think we need to do to fix it?”

“Look, there’s some bad apples in the barrel, but not all of ‘em. There’s some good brothers down there, too. Ones I was fuckin’ glad to have at my back when I was down there. I say we clean house, get rid of the few, and then reinforce the rest. Major membership drive down there.”

Butcher’s eyes dropped to the table. “Nomads usually do clean up.”

“Fuck that,” Shades spit out, causing Butcher’s eyes to snap back to him. “Alabama handles its own problems. We go down there and do it ourselves.”

Butcher grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Shades’ eyes narrowed.

Butcher returned the look, instructing him, “Take who you need, and go handle it.”

Shades couldn’t believe he’d heard right, but he wasn’t about to back down from the challenge he’d been handed. He’d prove his mettle, which he was sure was what this was all about. He nodded. “Done.”

Butcher slammed the gavel down. “Meeting adjourned.”

****

Skylar lie in bed that night, nestled against Shades. His hand was stroking up and down her arm, his fingers brushing gently along her soft skin.

“I have to make a run tomorrow,” he announced.

She lifted her head off his chest, turning to look at him. The moonlight from the window behind the bed shining down on them, lighting him in a soft blue-grey color.

“To the Gulf Coast?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Will you be gone overnight?”

“Probably.”

“Will there be more trouble with the Death Heads?”

A smile pulled at his mouth. “You worried about me, babe?”

“Yes.”

His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking. “I’ll be fine.”

She dipped her head, her lips pressing soft kisses to his chest. Then she lifted her head and looked at him with an impish grin. “Are you too tired for sex tonight?”

His eyes connected with hers. “Kind of, babe. That okay with you?”

She rolled her eyes. “I suppose I’ll live.”

A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth, and he dipped his head to give her a quick kiss on her lips. “I’ll make it up to you later. Promise.”

She lay her head down on his chest, her hand stroking his abs, and she felt his hand sink into her hair. Her thoughts drifted to her new job. The photos the realty took of her last week bothered her. She couldn’t get them out of her mind. They’d said they would only be used on her business cards and on those yard signs realtors used.

She worried about having her picture up in yards around town. Thankfully, she was still just learning the ropes. It would be a while before she had actual clients and any signs of her own up in yards. But when she did, she worried the DKs might see them.

Shades’ breathing settled into a steady rhythm, his chest rising and falling under her ear. She smiled, knowing he’d drifted off to sleep. Something she knew she needed to do as well.

Sunday she was assisting one of the girls with an open house. Learning the ropes, so to speak. Soon she’d be hosting open houses on her own. She smiled. She really loved this job. Showing people houses, helping them to find their own home. It was fun. Hard work to be sure, especially when dealing with picky or demanding clients, but rewarding just the same. Her mind drifted over the home showings she’d already accompanied other realtor’s on. She remembered the expensive home from a couple of days ago that actually had surveillance cams hidden in the…

She gasped, jerking straight up in bed as a memory clicked into place.

Oh my God.

Shades bolted upright in the bed beside her, reaching for his gun. He glanced around the room seeing no one, and his gaze returned to Skylar, his breathing heavy. “Babe, what the fuck?”

“Sorry.”

“You scared the shit outta me.”

“Sorry, I just remembered something.”

“Remembered what?”

She bit her lip, not knowing how Shades was going to take what she was about to tell him.

“Sky?”

“It’s, um, about Rusty.”

Shades’ eyes narrowed. “What about him?”

She took in a breath and let it out, murmuring, “God, how do I tell you this?”

“Babe, just spit it out.”

“Before I left, Rusty’s birthday had been coming up, and after he’d given me that dagger, I’d been racking my brain to come up with something that would mean something to him, that would be something I knew
he
wanted…”

“Sky, cut to the chase.”

She blew out another breath. “There was only one thing I knew he wanted.” She fiddled nervously with the covers. “He’d talked about it, you see, and so I thought…” Her voice trailed off softly, embarrassed.

“Skylar.”

She looked up at him

“Spit it out.”

“He wanted to film us.”

Shades head came back an inch, and he frowned. “You talkin’ about…in bed?”

She nodded.

“And?”

She shrugged. “I bought one of those little spy-cams and stashed it on a shelf in a bookcase in his bedroom. I thought if what it captured wasn’t too vulgar, I’d give it to him for his birthday.”

Shades ran a hand down his jaw. “Well, shit.”

She frowned. “What? What are you thinking?”

He cracked half a smile. “Hadn’t realized you were into that, babe.”

She hit him in the head with her pillow. “I’m not.” Then she pulled the pillow back and covered her face with it, mortified.

His hand reached up, and he pulled it free. She looked up to find him staring at her, trying to hold back his grin. “So, as enjoyable and enlightening as this conversation has been, what was your point in telling me all this? You wanting me to up my game, babe?”

“No! The camera, Shades!”

“What about it?”

“I set it up that night. The night we went out. The night before he was murdered. It’s motion-activated. And it’s still there.”

He frowned. “So, it would have captured whoever it was that came in that morning, stabbed him and took the bag.”

She nodded. “I think so. At least, it should have.”

“Does it transmit to something?”

“No, it records onto an SD card. You pull the card out and insert it into a laptop to view the recording.”

“You think someone might have found it by now?”

She shook her head. “I doubt it. It’s small and I wedged it between two books.

Shades studied the floor, absorbing what she was telling him. “It could be the proof they need to back off.”

“We have to go get it, Shades.”

His eyes flashed to hers. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. First,
you’re
not going anywhere near them. Second, I’ve got shit to deal with tomorrow. I’ve got that run to make, and you’ve got that open house the day after tomorrow. We’ll figure it out when I get back, and
I’ll
go take care of it.”

“But, Shades—”

His brow rose. “Enough, babe. I’ll handle it. Okay?”

Skylar knew arguing with him would be pointless. He’d never give in. Not on this. “Okay. All right.”

He leaned back against the pillow, pulling her down with him. “Now, I want my woman. So shut up and kiss me.”

“I thought you were too tired?”

“I was. Now you woke me up. Got me all stirred up with that talk of cameras and sex. Now I want your body.”

She grinned up at him.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

“So, what’s wrong with it?” Reload asked, glancing from the road to his passenger, one wrist resting on the top of the steering wheel of his pickup.

Quick slumped against the door of the pickup, chewing on a toothpick. He looked over at his Devil King brother. Thank God he’d been close enough to come to his rescue when Quick’s bike had broken down on the side of I65 just south of Birmingham.

“Bent pushrod on the rear cylinder intake. Luckily there was no damage to my new top end. But I’m gonna go ahead and replace the lifters when we get back. It could be a lot worse.”

Reload shook his head. “You do know ‘drive it like you stole it’ is just a saying, right?”

Quick pulled the toothpick from his mouth and growled, “Hell, I was being gentle with her. Just trying to get all the new stuff broken in good and proper. Fuckin’ glad you were close.”

“How the hell did you bend a pushrod?”

“Just shit luck. They were perfect. Heat cycled the motor three times and everything was good to go before I left Atlanta.”

Reload aimed his wraparound shades at him and grinned. “Well, I guess the asphalt is safe for at least one more day.”

Quick sat up straight. “You hear that?”

A clanking noise could be heard coming from the bed of the truck. He turned to look through the rear window to where his bike was loaded up in the back. “Damn it. A tie down came loose. Pull over.”

Reload shook his head in disgust. “Shit, Quick, can’t you even manage to strap the fucking thing down right?”

“Just shut up and pull over.”

Reload pulled to the side of the road, and they both climbed out. Quick hopped up in the bed. It only took him a moment to re-secure the hook and tighten the ratchet down pulling the strap taught. He stood, examining the other tie-downs and making sure it was all secure. A big rig tractor-trailer passed by, horn blaring, the gust of wind rocking the truck. It drew Quick’s attention, and he looked up.

“Motherfucker. He almost sideswiped us,” Reload shouted above the interstate noise.

Quick’s eyes followed the semi-trailer as it rode off. Then something caught his eyes. He looked up to see a giant billboard.

And the face of the woman they’d been in this goddamned state searching for all these months.

Fucking hell. She was here.

“Reload,” he shouted back over the noise.

“Yeah?”

Quick pointed up at the billboard with Skylar in her gold blazer, arms folded and a big smile on her face.

Reload looked up. “Progressive Realty. So what? You buyin’ a house?”

“No, moron. The chick in the picture! That’s our girl.”

Reload looked again, his eyes squinting. “Well, hell, how about that.”

Quick pulled his phone out of his back pocket and dialed up Rat.