GHOST: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 5)

by Nicole James

Ghost approached the gravesite. His stepbrother, Tommy, younger by only a year, had been dead two months, but this was the first time Ghost had gotten to visit the grave to pay his respects. He’d missed the funeral, unable to attend courtesy of the Jefferson County Correctional Facility. He’d been awaiting trial for some bogus assault charges at the time, unable to post bail.

  Tommy had chosen the military. Ghost had chosen the MC. And their lives had taken very different paths.

  The girl stood forlornly, staring down at the headstone. His stepsister, Tommy’s younger sister.

  His eyes swept over her. She was seventeen, way too young to have lost the big brother she’d adored, no, not adored, worshipped.

  When Ghost had been thirteen, his widowed father had remarried. Collette had been the woman’s name. And as if having a new stepmother wasn’t bad enough, she’d brought two children with her when she moved in. A son named Tommy, who was twelve, and a daughter named Jessie.

  He and Tommy took to each other like two peas in a pod. They were close in age and just fell into an easy friendship, bonding almost immediately.

  Jessie was a different story. He supposed it was because she was only eight. Which made her the perfect age to be nothing more than a tagalong pest to the two boys. Still, Ghost had looked out for her, taking her under his wing just the same. Even though she could be a little brat, pestering the fuck out of both Tommy and himself, she’d grown on him over time.

  His eyes moved past her to land on the boy waiting by the car, leaning back against it in a bored manner. Some punk kid that Ghost could tell in one glance wasn’t anyone she should be hanging around with. He had ‘bad influence’ written all over him. Tommy would have run his ass off within five minutes. But Tommy wasn’t here to do that anymore, was he?

  His eyes swept over her. She looked different. He wouldn’t exactly call her new look Goth, but it certainly had a dark, wild and reckless edge to it, so totally opposite of her. And he knew right away that her brother’s death had hit her hard and had left lasting scars. Collateral damage. That’s what she was. That fucking IED had taken out more than the four men in the Humvee. It had taken out their loved ones as well. Destroying lives and causing pain that was long lasting and far-reaching.

  “Hey, Jessie.”

  She turned at his soft-spoken greeting. She’d always been a brat, always a pain in the ass. Always getting in their hair. Always smarting off with more backbone than anyone he’d ever known. Now she just looked sad. No, not sad. Devastated.

  “You okay?” What a stupid question he realized the moment the words left his mouth. How could she possibly be okay?

  “I’m fine,” she whispered, turning back to the headstone. And then she let a bit of that backbone shine through, along with that snarky attitude he always remembered, “Just peachy.”

  In reality he hadn’t seen much of her the last year and a half since he and Tommy had gone their separate ways. In fact, he couldn’t remember seeing her a single time since he’d joined the MC. She’d just turned sixteen the last time he’d seen her.

  “Jess—” he broke off. What the hell did he say to her? His eyes moved to the headstone and the small bunch of wildflowers that she must have just laid on the grave. “He loved you.”

  “Right. That’s why he left.”

  There was anger in her tone, and that confused him. “You’re pissed at him.”

  She looked at him then. “Yes. I’m pissed at him.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “I’m pissed he left. Pissed he ever joined up. Pissed he had to go and fight and die.”

  “Sweetheart—”

  “Don’t call me that. I’m not your sweetheart. Thank fucking God.”

  “Christ, babe,” Ghost said in a stunned whisper.

  She’d stalked off then, almost as if she was embarrassed by her childish outburst. Even in her grief, she knew she was out of line, knew he hadn’t deserved that.

  Ghost shook the memory free, keeping up his vigil, watching the horizon.

  He’d lost track of her after that. There’d been a few phone calls here and there, but for the most part, they’d lost touch. Until that one phone call that night months ago. He’d tried to call her back, but the number had gone straight to a generic voice mail. He’d left messages, but she’d never called back. He’d even called his father trying to get her mother’s number, thinking maybe he could track her down that way. But his father didn’t keep in touch with any of his ex-wives and didn’t have her phone number.

  And now the fucking Death Heads were after her. How in the hell was that possible?

  After about twenty minutes of standing guard, the muscles in his shoulders relaxed, and he turned from the door, satisfied that they were out of danger. His eyes met hers, drilling into them as he tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back.

  “Time for that talk.”

  She looked at him with wide ‘deer-in-the-headlight’ eyes.

  “Why are they after you, Jessie?” He watched her swallow. Not a good sign, at least not if he expected to hear the truth come out of her mouth.

  “I heard some things I wasn’t supposed to hear.”

  His chin lifted. “What things? And why the hell are you in Sturgis of all places?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  Ghost looked at the ceiling as another boom of thunder shook the building. “Yeah, well it seems we’re gonna be here awhile, so we’ve got time.”

  “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “How about you start at the last time I saw you.”

  “You mean at the cemetery? At Tommy’s grave?”

  Ghost nodded, studying the woman before him now. She was no longer a girl. No longer a bratty little child getting into trouble, no longer even the teenage girl she’d been the last time he’d laid eyes on her. Now she was a grown woman, and the trouble she was in now was so much bigger.

  “Tell me, Jessie.”

  “I’m in a bit of trouble, Ghost.”

  “No shit. Explain it to me.”

  She swallowed, dropping her eyes. “I’ve been in Seattle.”

  His brows shot up. “Seattle? Doing what?”

  “I followed Kyle out there.”

  Kyle, the asshole. That’s how Ghost thought of him anyway. He was the punk who’d been at the cemetery that day, the son-of-a-bitch that talked her into dropping out of school. He was also the jerk who, Ghost knew, did not give one fuck about Jessie.

  “You remember Kyle?” she whispered.

  “Yeah. I remember Kyle,” he bit out. “What the fuck’s in Seattle?”

  “He’s a musician, Ghost. I told you that.”

  Yeah, she’d told him that. She’d called him a couple of times over the years. He always tried to talk her into dumping the asshole and coming home. But she never had, at least not until now. “So he’s a musician, what of it?”

  “He said Seattle was the place to be. They have an amazing music scene there.”

  “Right. So you dropped out of school and followed him all over the fucking country?” Ghost couldn’t help but think Kyle was a bum that wanted to play music while he dragged Jessie along to support them both. “Let me guess. You worked and he played music.”

  She looked at him with wide guilty eyes.

  “Right. Don’t bother denying it. You finally wake up and figure out he was using you?”

  She rolled her eyes and grudgingly admitted, “Sort of.”

  “And you thought you’d try Sturgis?” He let out a huff that was half disbelief, half sarcasm.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what, exactly?”

  “I knew you’d be here.”

  That threw him. Ghost frowned. “Say what?”

  “I knew you were still with that club you’d joined.” She lifted a hand toward him, her eyes dropping to his cut. “Knew you were still in Birmingham.”

  “And?”

  “That’s a long way, and I was bro
ke. And Kyle had the only car. I wanted to get home. But then I remembered Sturgis was coming up, and I knew you’d be here. I thought if I could just get as far as Sturgis and find you…”

  “You are shitting me, right? You really thought you’d come to Sturgis and be able to find me in half a million bikers?”

  “I suppose I didn’t really think it through.”

  “Ya think?”

  “All right, it was a stupid plan,” she snapped at him. “You don’t have to rub it in and be a dick about it. And anyway, I found you, didn’t I?”

  He shook his head. “Unbelievable. How the hell did you get here if you had no car?”

  “I hitchhiked.”

  “You what?” The words almost exploded from him. “Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

  “A long haul trucker brought me most of the way. It wasn’t so bad, Ghost.”

  He took a step towards her. “You’re lucky you weren’t raped or murdered. That was incredibly stupid, Jess.”

  “Maybe,” she conceded. “But I’m okay.”

  “And when in this stupid plan of yours did you end up crossing paths with the Death Heads? Why are they looking for you?”

  “I overheard something I wasn’t supposed to.”

  “And what was that?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  He folded his arms and stared at her. “Un-complicate it.”

  “They were talking about a man they had planted in some other gang.”

  “You mean another MC?”

  She shrugged. “I guess so, if that’s what you call it.”

  Ghost studied her. She may be clueless about the MC world, but she was far from stupid. “You catch the name of that other club by chance?”

  “Devil something, I think. But then they used an acronym.”

  “The Devil Kings? The DKs?”

  “Yes. That was it.”

  “What about them?”

  “This guy they planted, they were talking about how they were going to use him to get all the information they needed to take that club out of Georgia. They want the state. Not just that state. If this works, they plan to do the same thing in Alabama and Louisiana.”

  His arms came unfolded at this news. “Those are Evil Dead states.”

  She nodded, shrugging. “I guess so. I don’t really know about all that. I just know what I heard. They want the entire Gulf Coast under their control. I heard them say that the only thing standing in their way were the DKs in Georgia and the Evil Dead in Alabama and Louisiana.”

  “You overheard all that?”

  She nodded.

  “Jessie, nobody just ‘overhears’ MC business.”

  “I did.”

  “How? Where?”

  “I…I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, okay?”

  “Jessie.” He glared at her. “Tell me.”

  She blew out a breath. “I just happened to wander into the back of this bar in Sturgis. I was looking for the restroom, and I overheard a few of them talking.”

  Ghost knew there were holes in this story. MCs were not known for discussing business just anywhere, unless perhaps they thought of the bar as their territory. Clubs were known to stake claim to bars while they were in town. And if that were the case, it was possible they would feel comfortable talking in a back room. But hell, there’d be guards. Someone making sure no civilians got close. No. Something was off about this story. “You just happened upon a meeting and got close enough to hear every word?”

  “Well…”

  “Jess.”

  “I was hiding, actually.”

  “From who?”

  “Um, well, this guy was hitting on me, wouldn’t leave me alone. I dashed in the back, but instead of going in the restroom, I went down a hall and hid when he followed. I was going to come out when suddenly all these Death Heads trouped down the hall and I was trapped. I was in a tiny broom closet, but it shared a wall with some office behind it. I could hear everything through the wall.”

  “They found you?”

  She nodded. “I got away. But they’ve been hunting me ever since.”

  “Jesus Christ.” His eyes slid over her, taking in her words. “They’re not gonna just give up and go away, Jess.” He turned then, moving to the door, his arm on the frame and his eyes scanning the horizon as the ramifications of it all rolled through him. “Holy fuck.”

  “Ghost.” He heard her soft voice whisper behind him. She had no clue. No fucking clue just how deep this shit was. It wasn’t just that they were after her. It was what she knew. That was some damning information. They’d stop at nothing to silence her.

  He turned, his hand dropping from the doorframe as he shook his head. “Jessie, I don’t think you realize—”

  She cut him off. “How much trouble I’m in? I know, Ghost. I know those are dangerous men.”

  “They’ll kill you.” He couldn’t be any more blunt than that.

  She swallowed and nodded. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I understand if you don’t want any part of it, if you don’t want to get involved.”

  “Christ, babe, you really think I’d walk away from this? From you?” he asked, stunned. “You really think that low of me? That I’d just throw you to the wolves and not look back?” He watched her eyes fill.

  “No,” she whispered. “But I’d understand if you did.”

  He clenched his jaw, looking away and shaking his head. “I need to know something, Jess.” His eyes hit hers, boring into them. “This story. Are you telling me the truth?”

  She nodded, but there was a hesitation that had him doubting her. He turned in frustration and moved back to the door. Leaning his shoulder against the frame, he stared out at the rain wondering how his life could turn on a dime like this. One minute everything was copasetic, the next, it was totally fucked. Fucking hell.

  ***

  Jessie watched the firm set of his shoulders. She knew he wanted details. Details she wasn’t prepared to tell him. There were things she couldn’t trust him with. Not yet. She could tell that he didn’t buy her story, at least not all of it. Ghost was a smart man. Very little got past him. He’d always been quick to pick up on the little things. And now he picked up on the telltale signs she inadvertently gave off, and he knew she wasn’t being honest with him, at least not with all of it. But he didn’t push her on it. For that she was grateful. Maybe he believed in her enough to trust in most of what she’d said or maybe he knew he’d get the truth out of her eventually.

  She hoped she’d never have to tell him all of it. He’d never look at her the same, if he knew. She blew out a breath and closed her eyes a moment, letting the sound of the rain on the roof calm her for a moment. Then she opened them and took in her surroundings.

  The shed wasn’t very big, maybe eight by ten. There were no windows, but there were a couple pieces of boards missing on one side that let the fading daylight in. The roof was about eight feet high and rain leaked through in a couple of places, but at least it had a wooden floor, so they wouldn’t have to sit in the dirt.

  She leaned against one wall and slid down to sit with her back against it. Her eyes moved to Ghost.

  Ghost. His club name. Not the one she knew him by. He would always be Billy to her. He came into her life when she was eight, and her mother married his father, the man who was her second stepfather.

  Her father died when she was six. She barely remembered the man. After Daddy, there was her first stepfather; he’d been her father’s business partner. That only lasted long enough for him to weasel her dad’s half of the business away.

  That’s when Billy came into her life. They’d moved in with him and his dad. She was eight and Tommy was twelve. Billy was thirteen, a year older than Tommy and so instantly became Tommy’s idol, hers, too.

  He was older, cooler, and worldlier. Just everything about him drew them into his aura. And what an aura it was.

  She instantly fell in love with him. Well, perhaps love was a s
trong word for an eight-year-old girl. But she’d crushed, hard. And that never changed.

  Billy’s was the hand that was reaching for theirs even before they had to ask. He always made them feel safer, feel braver. He was always there when they needed him most. There were a multitude of times he came to her aid without her even having to ask.

  Tommy and she both knew, as did most kids on the block, if they were with Billy, they were gonna be okay. He watched over all of them. They were always under his wing.

  And he always carried their secrets. They could unburden themselves to Billy knowing he was never going to break their trust.

  He was the most fiercely loyal and protective person she’d ever known. And he’d come into her life at a time when she’d needed him most.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Do you have a phone?”

  Ghost turned to look back at Jessie when she asked the question. “Yeah, but my battery died about an hour ago.”

  “Mine, too.”

  She was shivering with cold, running her hands up and down her arms. The sleeves of the flannel shirt he’d given her were soaking wet from their ride. The skin of her legs were also wet, her fishnets, soaking.

  Ghost watched her, his eyes sliding over her legs, noticing her shiver. “You should get out of that wet shirt.”

  She wiped her wet face with the sleeve. “Well, my shirt’s in the trashcan, so this is all I’ve got.”

  “You’ve got a bra on. And I’ve already seen it, remember?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “At least take those wet fishnets off.”

  She glanced down at her legs, seeming to consider his words, and then climbed to her feet. She glared at him. “Turn around.”

  “Already seen that, too.”

  “Turn around!” she practically growled, her hands landing on her hips.

  Ghost grinned, thinking she was fucking cute when she was pissed off, but he did as she asked.

  A few moments later, something wet slapped against his shoulder. He glanced down, pulling her stockings from his shoulder. The little brat had flung them at him. He turned back to her, raising a brow.

  “There. Happy?” she snapped.