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

by James, Nicole

  Shades eyes moved over the crowd, searching for Skylar, wondering why she wasn’t seated beside her man. And then he spotted her, standing by herself at the back of the crowd. She looked lovely in a pretty little black dress, demure and to the knee, but sleeveless. Her dark hair pulled up in a bun that emphasized her slender neck. To Shades, she’d never looked lovelier, except for the sad expression on her face. Why the hell wasn’t she up there with the family? Christ, Letty and Skylar were more than best friends, they were practically sisters. She should have been up there in the front row with the rest of them.

  Once the service started, Shades skirted around the edge of the crowd and made his way over to stand beside Skylar. She looked up at him with surprise and maybe a trace of fear. He supposed he could understand her being afraid of him. Maybe she should be. After all, she’d stolen quite a little sum of money from him. But not today. Today, the last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid.

  “Sorry about Letty.”

  Skylar nodded. Her eyes flitted over him and returned to the minister. He watched as she sucked her lips in.

  “Am I makin’ you nervous, Sky?” He asked softly and watched her chin come up a fraction.

  “Not at all,” she whispered back.

  He turned from her to look at the minister, but not really hearing a word the man said. Finally, he couldn’t help remarking, “You should be up there. In the front row. You two were like sisters.” When she didn’t answer he turned his head to look at her, and he felt a fist tighten around his heart as he watched a tear slide down her cheek. Reaching up, he brushed at it with the back of his index finger. “Baby-”

  “Don’t, Shades. Please. Not here. Not now,” she pleaded softly, her head moving back slightly.

  He gritted his teeth and nodded. A moment later he walked away, returning to stand with his brothers.

  After the minister said his final words over the gravesite, the mourners began to disperse, some stopping by to give Crash their personal condolences.

  Cole, Angel, Mack and Butcher hung back, waiting patiently until the mourners had all trickled off. Shades and several more of his brothers stood off by the paved drive, giving them space, but still within earshot of their Chapter President.

  Shades bent his head to light a cigarette and looked over at where Crash and Ace stood alone, saying their own final goodbyes to the women they both loved. Shoving his lighter in his hip pocket, Shades blew a stream of smoke out and watched as Skylar walked up to the graves. She stood next to Crash, her hand sliding over to clutch his. He looked over at her and squeezed her hand in return, trying to offer her a smile, but his heart obviously wasn’t in it.

  Shades heard Butcher offer in a low voice, his eyes on Crash, “Maybe it’d do him good to stay in town a while. We’d be glad to give him a spot at the table.”

  Damn, Shades hadn’t seen that coming. His eyes moved from Butcher to Crash and Skylar, and he felt his heart catch. If Crash stayed, Skylar would stay. Before he had time to digest the ramifications, he heard Cole respond to the offer.

  “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what the right move is for him.” He shrugged. “Might be too many memories lurking around every corner here.”

  Shades turned his attention to where Cole, Butcher and Mack stood, knowing Crash’s Chapter President was going to have to sign off on anything that big. Mack looked at Butcher.

  “If you want to make him the offer, I’m good with it. Whatever he needs right now, whatever he wants, I’ll back it.”

  Butcher nodded.

  “Damn, brother, you hear that?” Ghost whispered to Shades. “Butcher brings him to the table, you might have some competition for that VP spot you want so badly.”

  Shades took a hit off his cigarette. “If he stays, that is. He’s been gone ten fucking years.”

  Griz nodded toward the fresh graves. “Yeah, and the last two reasons he had for coming back just got planted in the ground.”

  Ghost shrugged. “Just sayin’. Grief and guilt about being gone, who knows where his head’s at.”

  “If he stays or goes. Don’t mean shit to me,” Shades growled. Ghost and Griz exchanged a look that told him they didn’t buy his words for a second. He shoved one hand in his pocket, his eyes returning to Skylar, and he wondered if this was good news or bad. Part of him wanted nothing more than to have Skylar here, back home where she belonged. The way she’d run years ago, it had never set well with him. He wanted a chance to mend things between them.

  On the other hand, he wasn’t sure if he wanted another brother at the table who could possibly get in his way. And if he was being honest, he sure as hell wasn’t sure he could stand to watch Skylar with Crash. It had gutted him when he found out she was the ol’ lady of a brother. She couldn’t get any more off-limits than that. How the hell was he supposed to stomach seeing them together? Shades knew one thing about himself. He knew his limits. He hadn’t been able to keep his distance from her when he was a prospect ordered to stay away from her. He didn’t think for one fucking minute that he was going to be any better at keeping his distance now.

  And one thing he knew for certain, if he ever did decide to make a play for her, he wouldn’t care what or who stood in his way. Dropping his cigarette to the ground, he crushed it under his boot.

  “I’ll be at the bikes,” he muttered to Ghost and Griz as he stalked away.

  ****

  Skylar looked down at the freshly turned graves covered in flowers, and she felt her heart breaking. Letty had been the best friend she’d ever had, and Mama Rose had been like a grandmother to her. The grandmother she’d never had.

  It was so unfair. Life was so unfair. Mama Rose was the sweetest woman she’d ever known, and Letty had been in such a good place in her life. Her shop was taking off and doing so well. And she’d finally found a good man to love, one who loved her back.

  Skylar glanced over at Ace. He seemed broken, lost, devastated and her heart bled for him. But it was Crash who really concerned her. Through the entire service, she’d watched him sitting in that front row, his leg shaking a mile a minute, and she knew he was holding on by a thread. He’d had so much loss in his life. His mother, his grandfather, his brother. And now Mama Rose and Letty. No one should have to endure that much.

  She knew how he felt though, to have another in a long line of people ripped from your life. She knew what it was like to have to lift your chin and get through it, when your heart was breaking and it hurt to breathe. She’d had everyone in her life ripped from her. Her mother, whom she barely remembered. And then foster home after foster home.

  And then along came Shades. And he’d made her believe again that she could have love—that she could open up to someone. That she could let them in. And then he, too, had turned out to be nothing but a lie.

  So she’d packed her beat up old car with her meager belongings, and she’d left town to build a life of her own. And she had, with a job she’d loved and co-workers that had loved her, and even a man. But that was all ripped from her, too. And now, to come back home and to lose Mama Rose and Letty, it was just too much.

  It just never ended.

  Every time she’d let someone in, every time she’d let herself care, they were torn from her again. It all seemed so pointless and useless to get close to anyone.

  She turned to Crash and took in his devastated face. He needed her. And she’d be there for him. It was the least she could do, after all the times he’d looked out for her when she was younger. Somehow, she’d get him through this.

  She wrapped her arm around him and hugged him as she looked down at the graves.

  Somehow, they’d get through this together.

  ****

  As it turned out, Crash indeed ended up staying, and good to his word, Butcher gave him a spot at the table. Shades watched him closely at every church meeting they had. Crash would always give his input when asked and didn’t hesitate to do any job Butcher threw his way, but Shades could see he was distr
acted.

  His grief was seeming to turn him into a man who didn’t give a shit about anything or anybody, except maybe the club. Shades couldn’t help but wonder where that left Skylar. Shades noticed that several nights a week Crash would bunk at the clubhouse, staying in the big room they kept for out-of-town brothers. It had four sets of bunk-beds lined up around the wall. Bare mattresses that brothers would unroll their sleeping bags on top of and not much more. Shades couldn’t imagine choosing that over crawling into bed with a woman like Skylar. He supposed the magnitude of grief that Crash was dealing with could make a man pull away from others.

  He often speculated on how that relationship was holding up. If Shades knew one thing, it was that things like this had a way of either breaking a relationship or making it stronger. He couldn’t help but wonder which way things would fall for this one.

  He knew Skylar must be going through her own grief, which could only put more strain on the relationship. Shades could only speculate, because he hadn’t seen them together since the funeral. He couldn’t really ask why, without arousing suspicions, but she hadn’t attended any of the club parties they’d had. Crash had come, mostly out of obligation Shades figured, since he never seemed to actually party or have a good time. He mostly just sat off by himself and got quietly drunk.

  Maybe the old man saw it, too, because Butcher was pushing Crash to bring Skylar to the club’s annual shrimp boil which was this weekend. Maybe he sensed something needed to be done to snap Crash out of the funk he’d fallen into.

  Shades wondered if Skylar would actually come.

  He was dying to see her, even though he knew it was going to kill him to watch her with another man. She was starting to become all he could think about. She consumed his thoughts day and night. Maybe if he saw her again, maybe if they worked their shit out, rehashed the past, and he finally got some answers, then maybe he’d be able to get her out of his mind.

  Then maybe he’d be able to let it all go.

  And let her go.

  Once and for all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Skylar was in the kitchen. She’d just finished the breakfast dishes from earlier, and she was standing at the sink, looking out the window. Her mind had drifted back to that summer she’d first met Shades. That first time he pulled her to him and kissed her. At the memory, her hand lifted, her fingers absently touching her lips.

  Boot steps behind her startled her out of her daydream, and she turned to see Crash walk into the kitchen. When she found out he was planning to stay in town, she’d insisted he stay with her in one of the extra rooms in this big house. He’d taken her up on it, maybe because he’d sensed she was feeling just as lost and alone as he was after their shared loss. But he spent a lot of time at the clubhouse, even sleeping there some nights. Somehow she didn’t think he truly felt comfortable in either place.

  She smiled at him, her eyes moving over him as she noted that he seemed dressed to ride. A pair of sunglasses dangled from his mouth as he pulled his cut on. “Are you going out?”

  He grabbed the sunglasses out of his mouth and slid them on top of his head. “Yeah. There’s this annual thing at the clubhouse today. They do a big shrimp boil, drink some beer. It’ll be a good time. Come with me.”

  The smile faded from her face, and her stomach flipped at the thought of going back there and running into Shades. She couldn’t handle another face-to-face confrontation with him. Besides, she wasn’t even sure she was welcome there. At least, not by him. She shook her head. “I don’t think so, Crash.”

  “Skylar, you need to get out of the house. It’s a beautiful day. Come on, take a ride with me. It’ll be fun.” She shook her head again.

  “No, you go ahead. I’m not feeling much like being around people today.” She watched him rub his hand over his face, and studying him, she realized he somehow looked worried.

  “I know how you feel,” he admitted softly.

  She frowned, confused. “You don’t want to go either?” He shook his head, biting his lip. “Then why don’t you just stay here—with me?”

  “Skylar—” He paused, seeming to struggle with how to explain something.

  “What is it? Crash? Tell me.”

  “The thing is—I have to show, and I’m really not sure I can handle it without you. Most of the time I’m at the clubhouse, if I’m not tending to business, I’m off in the corner drinking alone. Drinking too much.”

  She realized just how much it cost him to admit that to her. Still, going there wasn’t easy for her. Crossing her arms, she looked at the floor wondering if she could do it. She knew in her heart Crash would never make her face something like that by herself. She couldn’t make him face it alone then, either. Turning back to the sink, she stared out the window, and then consented. “All right, then. If it’s important to you, I’ll go.”

  He approached her, his palm settling on her shoulder. “Does going to the clubhouse make you nervous?”

  “A little.”

  “No one will bother you if you don’t want them to, darlin’. I’ll make sure of that.”

  “I know you will.”

  ***

  Shades sat on the top of one of the picnic tables, his boots on the bench seat. His elbows on his knees, a red plastic cup of beer between his hands. He surveyed the grounds of the clubhouse and the turnout for the annual shrimp boil.

  Ghost took a hit off a joint and passed it to him. “You seen Tink?”

  Shades’ eyes scanned the crowd. Tink, a shortened version of her nickname, Tinker bell, was so named because she was a tiny little pixie of a girl with short spiked white-blonde hair. Her pointed chin, delicate features and big green eyes only added to her sprite-like appearance.

  “Nope, why?”

  Ghost blew out a stream of smoke and grinned. “She’s got on a little leather skirt. It’s drivin’ Hammer crazy.”

  Hammer was young, like them. He was a muscular guy, built like a brick house. Tattoos covered most of his broad chest, shoulders and arms. He had short dark hair and a heavy close-cut beard. The overall appearance gave him the look of a gladiator.

  “Well, if he didn’t nail everything in sight, maybe she’d give him the time of day,” Shades replied.

  “Yeah, but we both know a tiger don’t change his stripes. He didn’t get that name for nothin’.”

  The corner of Shades’ mouth pulled at Ghost’s remark. “He’s never getting’ in her pants, so he’d might as well hang that shit up.”

  “That ain’t no lie.”

  Griz walked up and confiscated the joint out of Shades hands. Taking a long toke, he asked, “What are we talking about, boys?”

  “When’s the damn shrimp boil gonna be ready?” Ghost asked.

  “Hell if I know,” Griz replied, glancing over toward where a tall bald man stood over the big boiling pot. “Gator’s in a mood today. I ain’t askin’ him.”

  “Gator’s always in a mood.” Ghost took the joint back from Griz.

  “Yeah, but the man sure can cook.” Griz looped an arm around the neck of one of the girls as she walked past and pulled her to him. “How’s it shakin’ Sherry-berry?”

  Her strawberry blonde hair made her the perfect target for a million different nicknames which seemed to rotate daily. She was about five foot three and stacked. She put a hand on her hip and gave a little shimmy. “You tell me, big guy.”

  “Heard you got a story to tell,” he teased with a knowing grin.

  She rolled her eyes. “You heard about last night?”

  “I heard you went into thermo-nuclear meltdown with some guy.” Griz waggled his brows at her.

  “It wasn’t just some guy.” Both hands landed on her hips.

  “It wasn’t two guys was it?” Ghost teased.

  “In my dreams.”

  Griz grinned in response. “Hey, doll, go ask Gator if the shrimp are ready.”

  Sherry made a face that said, no way in hell. “I’m not asking him. He’ll bite my head off
.”

  “Come on, Strawberry Shortcake, take one for the team,” Ghost put in with a wink.

  She rolled her eyes and moved off toward Gator. Over her shoulder she said, “You’re all chicken-shits.”

  The men laughed.

  Shades eyes were drawn to the back gate as a single bike rode in.

  Crash.

  With Skylar ridin’ bitch.

  Well, goddamn, he actually brought her.

  Ghost must have noticed as well, because he leaned closer. His eyes on the bike, he asked, “You ever gonna tell that tale, Brother?”

  “Nothin’ to tell. It’s over. Ancient history now.”

  Ghost let out a huff. “Bullshit.”

  Shades turned his eyes on Ghost, his look deadly. “Drop it.”

  Ghost grinned, but let it lay.

  Shades’ eyes returned to where Crash and Skylar were climbing off the bike. He took a drink from his beer, his eyes following the pair as they walked up to the blue canopy tent set up over near the shrimp boil. There were several tables and chairs under it, and that’s where Butcher, Slick and Boot were sitting. Crash clasped their hands and sat down, pulling Skylar down to the chair next to his. Shades could see Crash reach over and take her hand in his, their clasped hands resting on her thigh. He couldn’t stop the images of Crash running his hands over Skylar’s body, and the thought had his jaw clenching.

  Butcher snapped his fingers at one of the girls over by the food tables, and a moment later she brought over two cold beers, handing one to Crash and one to Skylar.

  Shades took a sip of his beer and continued to keep an eye on them.

  One of the new hang-around girls wandered by, giving him a look that read like an open invitation. She was young and blonde. His eyes ran down her body. He’d become a man always in the market for fresh pussy, and he’d been driving himself crazy the past few nights, lying awake with thoughts of Skylar filling his goddamned head. At the reminder of her, his razor sharp gaze zeroed in on her across the compound, only to find her sitting in Crash’s fucking lap now.