CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) (42 page)

Crash
cut her off. “We’re not going back there.”

“Where
are we going?”

“Reno.”

“Reno?”

“Yeah.
Cole needs me for some business up there. I’ll get you a motel room while I
take care of it.”

“And
then what?”

“I
don’t know, babe. Then we’ll see.” He could see the fear and worry still in her
eyes. Walking over to her, he took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up
to his. Studying her eyes, he promised her, “I’ll protect you, Shannon. If I
need to, I’ll kill him. I will not hesitate, babe. He is
not
gonna get his hands on you. Get that shit out of your head. You
get me?”

A
smile trembled on her lips as her eyes pooled again. She nodded as much as his
hold on her chin would allow and whispered, “I get you.”

He
smiled back. “Good.” His mouth descended on hers for a soft kiss. When he
raised his head, he whispered, “You went from one controlling man to another, I
hope you realize that.”

She
smiled up at him. “Your kind of controlling I can handle.”

“Good
answer, babe. Now move your ass.”

CHAPTER TWENTY
THREE

It
was after ten when they exited off the interstate and for the hell of it, Crash
rode Shannon through downtown and under the famous Reno arch with all its
lights. They drove past the Circus, the Eldorado, Harrah’s, and the Cal-Neva. They
stopped at a light, and Shannon leaned her chin on Crash’s shoulder, pointing
to a casino. “Can we stop? Please, just one. I promise, then you can dump me in
a motel. Please.”

Crash
hesitated only a moment, considering, before he gave in to her. Hell, he’d give
in to her on almost anything if he was able. As long as it wasn’t going to put
her safety in danger. “Okay, fine. Just one. You get fifteen minutes, then I’m
taking you to a motel. I gotta get back on the road.”

They
parked the bike and headed inside one of the casinos.

Crash
watched Shannon take it all in, her eyes going everywhere at once as she stood
in awe. “Haven’t you ever been to Vegas, Shannon?” She shook her head

“No.
Vegas never appealed to me.”

“Wait,
what? So why are we here?”

She
shrugged. “Just because I’ve never felt the desire to fly to Vegas, doesn’t
mean I’m not a little curious. We’re here. I’d might as well experience a
casino.”

Crash
rolled his eyes. “Babe.”

“Come
on.” She pulled him along excitedly toward a row of slot machines. Crash fed a
twenty dollar bill into the machine she’d stopped in front of, and she pulled
the lever. She laughed and clapped her hand like she’d won the freaking jackpot
every time she won a little bit. Of course, as usual, the casino took back more
than it paid out. Crash enjoyed watching Shannon’s infectious enthusiasm and
excitement. Unfortunately, they didn’t even make it ten minutes, before Shannon
was down twenty dollars. She was about to insert into the machine another
twenty dollar bill that Crash had given her when he snatched it back out of her
hand.

“Hey!”
she looked up at him, questioningly. He was staring at three men coming towards
them. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her turn her head and follow the
direction of his eyes.

Three
Devil Kings were coming straight to them.

Fuck.

In
a moment, they were surrounded.

Shannon’s
eyes ran over the three men. Bikers, obviously, but a different club. These
weren’t Evil Dead, or even that other club she’d seen, the Dead Souls. One of
them turned his back briefly to keep a lookout and scope the area. When he did,
she noticed the colors on the back of his cut. The patch in the center was a
depiction of a devil’s face with a pair of crossed pitchforks underneath. The
top rocker said, Devil Kings. She didn’t get a chance to read the state on the
bottom rocker before he turned back. He was a big man with brown hair to his
shoulders, the top section pulled back in a hair band with the rest left
hanging down. Her eyes swept to the other two. A guy with a bald head stood to
the right. The one in the center was obviously this group’s leader. He was a
handsome man, good-looking even. He had short dark hair and a close trimmed
goatee that surrounded a sexy white smile. But, something about him was just
plain evil. When she’d looked into his eyes, they were empty. Soulless. His
eyes slid over her from head to toe, missing nothing before they moved to Crash
who had gone rock solid at her side.

“Hey,
Crash.”

“Taz.”

“Who’s
the lovely lady?” Taz asked, his eyes running up and down Shannon a second time.
His voice was deep and smooth. “
I see you still have a thing for blondes
. Hell, you Evil Dead brothers always seem to find
the best lookin’ women. I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah,”
the guy standing to the right of Taz replied. “Taz, you remember that other one
from a few years back—the one Big Ed had us tattoo?”

Taz
nodded. “Yeah, Pepper, sure do. The night Cole’s ol’ lady got stamped.” Then he
lifted his chin at Crash. “I think that was the last time I saw you. Outside
Stumpy’s Tattoo parlor. You remember that night, Crash?”

“Yeah,
I remember.”

“What
ever happened to her?”

“They’re
married. Got three kids.”

“You
don’t say. Go figure. Guess it all worked out then, huh?”

“You
want something?”

Taz’s
eyes strayed to Shannon. “I don’t know. You might have something I want.” He
leaned in resting his arm on the slot machine.

Shannon
felt Crash’s warm strong hand close around her wrist as he stepped in front of
her, pulling her behind him. “You gonna start something right here in the middle
of a Casino, Taz? Didn’t take you for a fool.”

“I’m
not a fool. I know how to bide my time.”

Crash
looked over Taz’s shoulder and spotted a casino boss walk by, spot them, pause
and say something into his earpiece. Taz followed Crash’s eyes, turning and
straightening. A moment later, several burly bouncers appeared. “Is there a
problem, gentlemen?”

Taz
turned his head and smiled. “No problem, sir. We were just leaving.” He turned
back to Crash. “See ya ‘round.”

After
they left, Shannon looked up at him, fear in her eyes and the glass in her hand
shaking. “Who was that?”

“A
real mean son-of-a-bitch. C’mere.”
He slowly took the drink from her hand and turned her to face him as her
eyes pooled. He took her in his arms,
and she clung to him, burying her face in his neck
. He spoke into her
hair. “Baby, I know you’re scared, and you feel like you’re gonna fall apart on
me, but I need you to be strong. I need to get you out of here. Now, Shannon.”
Crash took her by the hand and
began pulling her toward the rear of the casino and out a side exit.

“Crash.” Her voice shook.

“I’m here, baby. I’m right here. You’re doing fine. Come on, stay with
me.” He pulled her along, practically running. “Keep up with me. Can you do
that, baby? I need you to concentrate.”
Goddamn. The last thing he needed was a run in with the fucking Devil Kings.

He
quickly pulled Shannon to the parking garage where they’d left the bike, all
the while keeping a close eye out for those sons-of-bitches. Stopping abruptly,
he tugged her around to face him, his voice deadly serious. “If we run into
them again, if they run us down, you keep quiet and do whatever I tell you,
understand?” She nodded, and he searched her eyes. “If the worst happens and
they get ahold of you, you do not fight. You understand what I’m sayin’ to you,
Princess? You submit. I’m tellin’ you this because it’ll keep you alive.”

“Crash.”
Her lip trembled.

“Do
you understand?”

She
nodded, a tear running down her cheek. “Are they going to get ahold of me?” She
searched his eyes.

He
stared down at her a moment, and then shook his head, promising, “It’ll be over
my dead body.” He paused, and then continued, “I’m sorry for dragging you here,
Shannon.”

“I’m
not sorry, Crash. I’m glad I’m with you.”

Crash
got Shannon on the bike and headed to a no-tell motel on the edge of town. As
they got close, he spotted the three DK’s pick up his tail.

Fuck.

There
was no way he was leaving Shannon alone and unprotected with these guys around.
Changing the game plan on the fly, he made a right at the next light. They
followed. Fuck. He took several more turns trying unsuccessfully to lose them
and finally roared up onto Interstate 80 and headed east out of town. They
raced through the desert night.

Fourteen
miles later, Crash took an exit and headed across the Truckee River. They came
to a set of railroad tracks just as a freight train was barreling down on them.
Crash made the split-second decision to go around the gates and race across in
front of the train. The DK’s were hot on their tail, but didn’t make it to the
gates in time to beat the train.

Crash
stopped long enough to pull out his phone and make a call to Cole, his eyes
watching the freight cars roll by. In between each one, he could see the flash
of the headlights from the three bikes waiting on the other side. He noticed
the train’s caboose fast approaching. Shit.

Cole
picked up on the other end, and Crash shouted out over the rumbling of the
train, “I’m coming in hot, and I’ve got three DK’s on my ass!” Without waiting
for a reply, he snapped his phone shut and gunned it down the road, hoping
they’d make it to The Pony before the DK’s caught up to them.

It
was closing in on midnight, and it was dark out in that stretch of Nevada
desert heading away from the interstate. As they roared through the desert
night, Crash glanced down at his side mirror and spotted three pin-point lights
far behind them growing closer and closer. The DK’s were closing in.

The
bike flew over a slight hill, and there ahead of them on the left were the
lights of The Pony. They flew into a well-lit gravel parking lot large enough
to accommodate a dozen tractor-trailers and four times as many cars. There was
a large brick ranch house that looked from the outside like any ordinary house
except for the two large modular add-on wings attached to the back. A huge
illuminated sign that read, The Pony, stood on a pole by the road. The front of
the lot was well lit for customers. The back was shadowy darkness broken up
here and there by dim security lighting.

Cole,
Wolf, Red Dog and Green were standing at the entrance to the gravel lot, guns
drawn. Crash pulled in and fishtailed in the gravel before jerking the bike to
a stop. He shouted for Shannon to get off and get up to the building, pointing
toward it. As she moved to comply, he was already jerking his helmet off and
throwing it viciously to the ground as he stalked toward his brothers. He
pulled his handgun and waited as the three Devil Kings thundered over the rise.
They pulled to a stop in the drive. With five guns drawn on them, they sat,
unmoving.

Crash
watched as Cole nodded toward Taz. “I was hoping it’d be you. Get off.” Taz
shut his bike down and climbed off. The other two remained on their bikes, but
shut them down. “Throw your piece down,” Cole ordered.

Taz
lifted his vest slowly, pulled his gun from his shoulder holster and tossed it
to the ground. Cole nodded toward the knife at his hip. Taz tossed it down as
well. Crash, Red Dog, Green and Wolf held their guns on the other two.

Crash
watched as Taz’s gaze went to the sign and the building. “Wondered what the
Evil Dead would be doing out this way.” He snorted as if he’d put the pieces
together. “Mack branching out?”

“Question
is, what the fuck are you doing out this way?” Cole asked.

“Just
taking an evening ride,” he replied. Then he glanced over at Crash. “You
bringin’ out fresh talent?”

“Shut
the fuck up,” Crash snapped.

Taz
grinned.

Cole
drew his attention. “You’re all about it when it’s three on one. Question is,
how big are your balls when it’s one-on-one?”

“What’s
the matter, Cole? You still pissed about that deal at Stumpy’s?”

Crash
could see the anger flare in Cole’s eyes and the tick in his jaw. Taz had just
pushed a major button with Cole. That night when Big Ed, the Devil Kings
President had ordered four of the eight guys at his back to escort Cole, Crash
and Angel to Stumpy’s where they had forced Cole to have her inked with a
property stamp had been one of the worst nights Crash had seen Cole go through.
It had almost ended things between Angel and Cole.

Big
Ed had done it to prove something to Cole, payback for disrespect Cole had
shown him. That night, they’d been outnumbered eight to two, and there was no
way out. Taz was one mean son of a bitch with a sadistic streak. Cole would
have done anything to keep Angel clear of him. After that night, Taz had
disappeared. The deal Mack had been trying to work with the Devil Kings fell
through, and word on the street was Taz had gone Nomad. This was the first time
since that night that any of them even had an inkling Taz was back.

Cole
took a step toward the man he hated with a vengeance and growled, “You and me.
Let’s go. Our boys stay out of it.”

Taz
looked over at his two brothers, and then nodded back at Cole. “Yeah, sure.
Whatever. I ain’t worried.”

Cole
handed Crash his piece, and a moment later he dropped his head and barreled
into Taz, driving him to the ground and knocking the wind out of him. Before
Taz could catch his breath, Cole pounded him mercilessly in the face. Hit after
hit, blood flying everywhere as his fists connected with Taz’s face. Taz tried
to get his hands around Cole’s throat and choke him, but Cole’s relentless
pounding didn’t let up.

Taz
never had a chance to get a punch in before he fell unconscious. That didn’t
stop Cole from continuing to drive his fist into him over and over. The two DK’s
still sitting on their bikes began to rethink their neutral position, and Wolf,
Green and Red Dog began to get twitchy, their gazes flicking between the two
men they had their guns trained on and their VP.