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

by James, Nicole

  After the rituals of burying their dead were through, Shades searched the crowd, wondering if Skylar was there somewhere, if she’d accompanied Crash to the funeral. He never spotted her that day, and knowing the two men were headed back to California that night, he wondered if he’d ever see her again.

  Had she’d slipped through his fingers once again?

  ****

  Several days later, the brothers that had descended from all over the country had all left town, and the clubhouse was getting back to normal. Well, as normal as it could be without their beloved VP.

  Shades rolled through the back gate and parked his bike. Noticing a couple of his brothers standing next to a dirt bike, he strolled over. “What’s this?”

  Ghost turned to look at him. “JJ supped-up this piece-of-shit dirt bike.”

  “Supped-up how?” Shades cocked his head, studying the bike.

  Griz answered with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows. “Nitro.”

  Shades looked over at the man who’d supplied the response, a man who got his name from his Grizzly Bear looks. That or his resemblance to the lead actor in the 1970’s TV show, Grizzly Adams. Shades was never clear on that one. “You’re shittin’ me, right?”

  “Nope. Stick around. This ought to be good.”

  JJ turned from his squatted position next to the bike where he was tightening a bolt. “That should do it.”

  “You’re fucking insane. You know that, right?” Shades stared him dead in the eye. The skinny kid had just gotten his patch about a year ago. He was a bit of a daredevil and goofball but exceptional when it came to tense, stressful confrontations and situations. Shades was beginning to wonder if that wasn’t because he was too stupid to be afraid.

  JJ grinned as he climbed on and fired it up. “Insane or genius?”

  “No, seriously, JJ. This kind of shit didn’t work out too well for the Coyote.”

  “Well, luckily this rocket wasn’t made by Acme, and I ain’t after a fuckin’ Roadrunner,” JJ replied.

  “Let it rip, tater chip,” Griz encouraged the insanity.

  A moment later, JJ hit the throttle and nitro, and the bike shot forward like a rocket, slamming right into the side of the clubhouse.

  The men doubled over with laughter.

  Ghost observed, “Impressive. It goes from zero to pile-of-junk in 2.1 seconds.”

  Shades shook his head, chuckling. “Yeah, who coulda seen that coming?”

  Ghost looked over at Shades. “You took off early last night. Missed a hell of a party.”

  Shades grunted.

  “Yeah, I had a hell of a hangover this morning,” Griz put in.

  Ghost looked over at him. “Yeah? How’s your headache now?”

  “It’s gone.”

  “Hi, Daddy!” came a sing-song voice.

  “It’s back.”

  The men turned to see Griz’s sixteen year old daughter coming through the back gate. She had her daddy’s long legs and his thick blonde hair.

  “Daddy, you know that car you said you’d buy me when I turned sixteen?”

  “No.”

  “Daddy!”

  “I don’t remember saying anything like that.”

  Her hands landed on her hips. “Daddy! Yes, you did.”

  “Look out, Griz. She’s doing the hands-on-hips ploy,” Shades warned with a grin.

  The men snickered.

  “Anyway, I’ve decided I’d rather have a bike, like you.”

  “Like hell!” Griz replied. “You ain’t gettin’ no bike.”

  “Daddy! You’ve got one.”

  “Correct.”

  “But I can’t have one?”

  “You’re two for two.”

  She stomped her foot. “That’s not fair! Bobby got one when he turned sixteen. Why can’t I have one? You’re being sexist.”

  “Watch your mouth.”

  “If you let me have a bike, I’ll promise not to wear those cute little dresses you hate me wearing.”

  “You seem to have misinterpreted the matter as up for debate.”

  “Daddy!”

  “And I better not catch you in those damn dresses!’

  “Why can’t I have a bike?”

  “Jesus Christ, Mindy. You’ll get a car. No bikes! We clear?”

  She threw herself in his arms and kissed his face. “I knew you’d buy me a car!”

  “Mindy, quit,” Griz muttered in an embarrassed voice.

  “You know you love me.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t have to rub my nose in it.”

  After she’d skipped back out, Shades let out a laugh. “Thought you weren’t buying her a car, Griz.”

  “I wasn’t.” Griz frowned and turned to Ghost. “What just happened?”

  Ghost slapped him on the back with a laugh. “I think she just played you for a car, dude.”

  “Oh, man. Daughters. They ought to come with a handbook,” Griz grumbled.

  “Yeah, so you could smack ‘em with it.” Ghost laughed.

  “Want a noose to hang yourself?” Shades offered.

  “Nice parenting style, Griz. What’s it called?” Heavy asked.

  “It’s kind of an existential philosophy. It involves a carrot and a stick.”

  “Yeah? How’s that workin’ for you?”

  “It’s not. I think she just got the carrot, and I just got the stick.”

  The men burst into laughter.

  “Hey, JJ, isn’t that your ex ol’ lady at the gate?” Ghost turned to ask the man who was standing over by his mangled dirt bike, brushing himself off. JJ wandered over to the men and squinted his eyes toward the gate.

  The men looked over to see a hot little redhead standing with her hands on her hips. The prospect at the gate wasn’t stupid enough to let her in without permission.

  “Damn, but she was a fine piece of ass. Maybe she wants me back. How should I play this, cool and hard-to-get, friendly and flirty?” JJ had a crooked grin on his face.

  “JJ, get your ass out here! I’m three months pregnant, you son-of-a-bitch!”

  Griz and Shades turned from the woman just in time to watch JJ hightail it around the corner of the building. The two men exchanged a look. Griz pulled the cigarette from his mouth and observed, “Guess he decided to go with cowardly and terrified.”

  They chuckled.

  “This place is gettin’ to be like Grand Central Station. Let’s go inside,” Heavy suggested.

  The men headed inside as the caterwauling at the gate continued. They walked into the darkened main room of the clubhouse and headed to the long bar at the back.

  “Twisted. Manipulative. Devious,” Tater was muttering, his shoulders slumped over the bar.

  “What’s that, your online dating profile?” Ghost asked with a smirk and a slap to his back.

  “Shut the fuck up, smartass. My damn ol’ lady just blew through all our fucking savings.” He suddenly picked up the almost empty bottle of whiskey sitting in front of him and threw it at the shelf of bar glasses mounted in front of the mirror on the wall behind the bar. All but one smashed into pieces. Tater was a big ol’ teddy bear of a man. All the women in the club loved him and he almost always had a happy disposition. So this type of outburst was rare for him.

  “You missed one,” Griz pointed out helpfully.

  Tater casually walked around the bar, picked the only remaining intact glass up off the shelf and promptly threw it at Griz’s head.

  “Something’s wrong with you, Brother,” Shades observed as Griz ducked out of the way.

  Ghost clapped Shades on the back and corrected, “We don’t say wrong, we say special.”

  “Hey, Prospect!” Tater shouted toward the kid by the door. “Get over here and clean this fucking glass up!”

  “He’s gonna be a miserable prick to be around the next few days,” Shades conceded in a low voice.

  Griz grinned. “Yeah. Well, he’s in the right place for that.”

  Shades nodded. The mood around
the clubhouse had indeed been somber, each brother taking the loss of Bulldog in their own way. Some with anger and outbursts, some with humor and cutting up.

  “So when’s the meeting starting? Everyone here?” Shades asked, leaning back against the pool table.

  Ghost moved around the bar and grabbed them each a bottle of beer and passed them out as he slouched against the pool table next to Shades. “Waitin’ on Spider. He’s on his way.”

  Griz twisted the cap off his bottle and pitched it at Tater, who still stood behind the bar, his palms flat on the bar top, his shoulders slumped. When the bottle-cap hit him in the side of the head, Tater looked up and flipped Griz off.

  Shades shook his head with a grin.

  ****

  Boot and Slick sat at the table, behind closed doors. Church was going to start soon, but before it did, Butcher had asked to speak with the two brothers privately.

  Now he looked over at the two men, both brothers who had been with the club for a long fucking time. Both brothers he knew he could trust with his life. Either one he knew would make a good VP.

  Slick was the club’s Treasurer. In another life, a lifetime ago, he’d been an attorney. That was before he’d bought a bike, divorced his wife and, in her words, ‘went off the deep end’.

  Butcher remembered riding with him not long after that, down in Florida during Daytona Bike Week. The three of them, Butcher, Slick and Boot had ended up hauled in for public intoxication.

  When they’d been brought before the judge, the courtroom had been crowded. There was a line against the wall as defendants stood waiting for their turn to stand before the bench. When it had been Boot’s turn he took his place before the judge. Slick and Butcher waited in the line against the wall for their turn. The judge had asked Boot if he had an attorney present. The stupid fucker had looked back questioningly at Slick who was standing in the line in shackles with the rest of them. Slick had shook his head furiously at him. Boot turned back to the judge and replied, “No, your honor.”

  Dumb motherfucker.

  Butcher had looked at his feet as his shoulders shook with the laughter he’d tried to smoother in the quiet courtroom.

  Now, what seemed like a lifetime later, it was still a funny story.

  Butcher cleared his throat. Time to get down to business. “So, obviously we have a VP spot to fill. So let’s cut to the chase. Either of you interested?”

  He eyed the two men. Their eyes moved from him to each other. Slick was the first to respond, his chair creaking loudly in the room as he leaned forward.

  “With all due respect and all—fuck, no.”

  Butcher grinned. “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t need the headache, for one. For another, I think it’s time you bring up some younger blood. It’ll do the club good. Especially, with recruiting. They see they got a shot at some kind of position without waiting for all us old guys to die off, it might make a difference.”

  Butcher nodded, considering his words. Then his gaze swung to Boot. “What about you?”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather stick with being Sargent at Arms. More fun.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “You good with fillin’ in until we can vote somebody else in?”

  “Yeah. I’m good with that. Just don’t want the job permanent-like.”

  Butcher leaned back. “You two got any ideas who you want to see as VP, then?”

  They both replied at the same time. “Shades.”

  Butcher nodded. “He’s a good man. Got his shit together. No question about loyalty.”

  “But?” Slick prodded.

  “You think he’d have the vote?”

  Slick put his elbows on the table, his hand running over his chin. “Yeah, I do. Why, you don’t?”

  Butcher let out a long breath. “VP’s only one shot away from being President.”

  “Come on, Butcher. Don’t talk like that. Who’d want to put a bullet in you?” Slick asked sarcastically.

  “Besides your ex-wife,” Boot added with a chuckle.

  A grin pulled at the corner of Butcher’s mouth. “Right.”

  “So?” Slick quirked an eyebrow.

  Butcher put his head down, studying the table and contemplated. “I think he needs to be given some more responsibility. See how he does with that, before I hand over the VP patch.”

  Boot shrugged. “Give him the membership drive.”

  Slick leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “How about the shit goin’ down on the Gulf Coast?”

  “Think he can handle it?” Butcher asked with a frown, looking up.

  Slick grinned. “Only one way to find out.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Three months later…

  Shades sat at the table in the clubhouse meeting room. Church was just about to finish up. All their business had been discussed.

  “Oh, one more thing before we adjourn. We’re gonna be having some guests from out-of-town,” Butcher said from his place at the head of the table.

  “Yeah? Who’s that?” Griz asked.

  “Some of you may have heard in the news about that house fire the other day. Two people were killed.”

  Some of the brothers nodded.

  “Y’all remember Crash from the San Jose Chapter? He and Cole were out here for Bulldog’s funeral.”

  Heads around the table nodded. Shades sat up straighter at the mention of Crash. His mind immediately going to Skylar.

  “They were his family. His grandmother…”

  Shades looked over when Butcher hesitated.

  “And his sister.”

  Oh my God, Shades thought, his eyes dropping down to the table. Not Letty. She’d been so full of life. Always laughing and cutting up with his brothers. And then his mind connected the dots.

  Skylar. My God, she’d lost her best friend. This would rip her heart out. And then he couldn’t stop the selfish thought from consuming his brain and pushing all the others out. She’ll be returning. She’ll come home for the funeral. He’ll see her again.

  “There’ll be a group flying in from his chapter tomorrow,” Butcher continued. He looked over at Boot. “They’ll need someone to pick them up at the airport.”

  “I’m on it,” Boot replied.

  Butcher nodded and looked around the table. “Whatever they need, I want everyone to accommodate them. We’re gonna make this as easy as possible on them.”

  The guys all nodded.

  “Of course,” Slick replied. “Damn. Little Letty. I can’t believe it.”

  “Yeah. She sure was a sweetheart. A lot of us are going to miss her coming around.”

  “We putting ‘em up at the clubhouse?” Heavy asked.

  Butcher shook his head. “They’ve got motel rooms lined up. But we’ll be supplying the guys with loaner bikes while they’re out here, and they’re gonna need a car as well.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Slick offered.

  Butcher looked around the table. “It’s not mandatory, but I’d like a good show of brothers from this chapter at the funeral.”

  “Yeah. Sure. Of course,” Boot replied, speaking for the group. “I’m sure we’ll all be there. Right, guys?”

  They all nodded in agreement.

  Three nights later…

  Shades stood at the back of the viewing room in the funeral home where Crash’s grandmother and sister were laid out. On one side of the room was his grandmother’s casket. A spray of white roses lay across it. Cole and his wife, Angel stood quietly paying their respects to her. On the far side was Letty’s casket, hers covered in pink roses. In front of her casket stood a man he’d heard referred to as Ace. Someone had told Shades that Ace was Letty’s man. Next to him stood Crash, his head bowed in grief. And next to Crash stood Skylar.

  As Shades watched, her hand reached out finding Crash’s. Shades saw Crash squeeze Skylar’s hand in return, and then his head turned toward her. Skylar’s shoulders began to shake, and Shades knew she must be crying. Cras
h’s arm came up, his hand moving to her hair and pushing her head down to his shoulder. She rested both palms on the lapels of Crash’s suit jacket and gave in to her tears. Crash enfolded her in his arms, his head coming down to rest on the top of hers.

  Something inside Shades twisted. He wanted more than anything to be the one to comfort her. To be the one she turned to in her hour of grief. To be the one to get her through this. But he couldn’t. She’d moved on from him, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d fucked things up so badly with her, he wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to forgive him. And now another man held her, and there wasn’t jack-shit he could do about it.

  ****

  The procession to the cemetery the next day was a long one. Shades was about seven bikes back. Crash followed immediately behind the two hearses, riding one of the bikes that had been provided. Behind him was his chapter brother, Cole and his Chapter President, Mack, also on bikes. Then came Butcher and all their guys. Behind them was a car carrying Angel and Ace and his immediate family. And behind that was a long line of cars containing neighbors, church members, and friends.

  The two women were buried beside the three grave stones already standing in a row. Crash’s grandfather, his mother and his brother, Shades learned. And now they would lay his grandmother and sister with them. The graveside was crowded with people. Although there weren’t really any other family there other than a couple distant cousins, there were a lot of people that loved Crash’s grandmother and sister. That was evident by the crowd of people standing around the graveside. Half the old lady’s neighborhood and most of her congregation had turned out, along with many of Letty’s and Ace’s friends from the artist community.

  Scanning the faces, Shades searched for Skylar.

  Crash sat in the front row of metal folding chairs with Cole, Angel and Mack on one side, and Ace on the other side, whose family took up the second row. Crash’s leg was jumping a mile a minute, his knee bouncing up and down. Shades knew this had to be one of the worst days in the man’s life. He couldn’t imagine the pain he must be in.