CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) (57 page)

Butcher let loose a deep rumble of laughter. “True enough. True enough.
But, seriously, give it some thought. We could use you two.” He looked between
them. “VP position just came open.”

Cole gave a sad smile. “I know, Butcher. Sad you gotta go through this.
Can’t see walking in that door,” he nodded toward the house referring to
Bulldog. “And him not being there.”

Crash added, “Between my granddad and that man, they’re the ones that
taught me what it means to be a man.”

Butcher nodded and agreed, “He’s gonna leave a big hole.”

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Current day…

Crash stared out the window of the 737 jet as they touched down at
Birmingham-Suttlesworth Intl airport. It seemed like just yesterday that he was
here, and his sister and grandmother had been alive. Now he had no one here
anymore. The plane taxied to the gate.

Ten minutes later the four of them carried their bags toward the curb in
front of the terminal. Boot, one of their brothers from the Birmingham chapter,
was waiting for them with a mini-van.

“Hey, guys.” He hugged Crash, giving him the whole man-hug back-slap
thing. “Sorry for your loss, brother. They were good people.”

After stowing their gear in the back of the van, they climbed in. Boot
pulled out of the terminal and got on I20/59 headed toward the city. He looked
back over his shoulder. “We got you rooms at a hotel.” He looked over at the
passenger seat where Mack sat. “Butcher has arranged for some loaner bikes for
you to use while you’re in town.”

“Thank you. Appreciate that.”

“Anything else you need, anything, you just let one of us know.”

Mack nodded.

Crash replied from the back. “Thanks, man. For everything.”

Boot nodded.

Crash looked out the window, watching the scenery flash by. When they
got closer to downtown, he leaned forward. “Hey, brother. There is one thing
you could do.”

“Anything, brother.”

“Drive by my grandmother’s place.”

“Crash, not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I need to see it.”

“There’s not much left, Crash,” Boot warned.

Crash stared at him in the rearview.

“All right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Boot made several turns,
finally pulling down the side street. As they got half way down the block, the
burned out structure came into view. It was surrounded by yellow police tape.
Boot slowed the SUV to a stop in front.

Crash rolled his window down and stared at the blackened and charred
remains of the house that had been the only home he’d ever known growing up. The
house where the only two family members he’d had left had died. He could only
hope to God that the smoke inhalation had gotten them before the fire reached
them. His jaw ticked with the emotions churning through him.

Angel, who was sitting in the back, between himself and Cole, reached
over and squeezed his hand. He took in a long deep breath and pressed the
button on his door, the window sliding slowly back up. “Go.”

Two nights later…

Both caskets were in the same viewing room at the funeral home. Cole
stood in front of Crash’s grandmother’s closed casket, his arm draped around
Angel, who stood at his side. His eyes moved from the beautiful spray of white
roses that lay over the casket to the framed photograph. He squeezed Angel. “I always
called her Mama Rose. Growing up, I used to be at their house more often than
my own. She always fused over me, made sure I had enough to eat.”

Angel squeezed him back. “I’m sorry, baby. I know she meant a lot to
you.”

“Yeah.”

“At least you got to come out and see her that last time.”

“Yeah.” Cole twisted his head to look to the side, where Crash stood
across the room in front of his sister’s casket, hers covered by a spray of
pink roses. Ace was by his side. Both their heads bent, their hands in their
pockets. He saw Skylar walk up to him and Crash put one arm around her, pulling
her close, their heads bent together. Cole could see her shoulder’s shake as
she cried. Then he watched one of Crash’s hands come out and wipe at his eyes,
and he looked away, knowing in another second, he was going to lose it himself.
He murmured to Angel, “I don’t know how he’s going to get through this.”

“He’s strong, Cole.”

“Christ, baby, in the space of a year he just lost his whole fucking
family,” he whispered back brokenly, his head bent.

“No, Cole. He still has us. He still has all his brothers.”

Cole choked up. “Yeah.” He sniffed, trying to take a deep breath. “Yeah,
he does.”

The procession to the cemetery the next day was a long one. Crash
followed immediately behind the two hearses, riding one of the bikes that had been
provided. Behind him was Cole and Mack, also on bikes. Then came Butcher, the
President of the Birmingham chapter and all his men. 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.

They buried them beside the three grave stones already standing in a
row. Crash’s grandfather, his mother and his brother. 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 his grandmother and
sister. That was evident by the crowd of people standing around the graveside.
Half the neighborhood and most of the congregation had turned out, along with
many of his sister’s and Ace’s friends from the artist community.

Scanning the faces, Crash recognized some, others, not. He 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. He just wanted to get
through this day. If he could just get through this day, he’d be okay. He kept telling
himself that. Just get through today. That’s all he had to do. Just make it
through today.

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 add all trickled off. More brothers stood off by the paved drive,
giving them space. Cole looked over at where Crash and Ace stood alone, saying
their own final goodbyes to the women they both loved. Skylar walked up and
stood next to Crash, her hand sliding over to clutch his. He looked over at her
and squeezed her hand, trying to offer her a smile, but his heart was obviously
not in it.

Butcher said 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.”

Cole’s eyes moved between Mack and Crash’s back. “To tell you the truth,
I’m not sure what’s the right move for him.” He shrugged. “Might be too many
memories lurking around every corner here.”

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.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Crash ended up staying in town about a month, sleeping some of the time in
an extra room at the clubhouse, and some of the time crashing at Skylar’s place,
but in the end, Cole had been right. There were just too many memories for him
there, and they all reminded him that Letty and his grandmother were both gone,
and so he had come home.

His brothers welcomed him home, glad to have him back in California,
where they all thought he belonged. Crash wasn’t so sure where he fit anymore.
He didn’t feel like he belonged in Birmingham any longer, but he wasn’t sure he
felt right in his loft, either.

He’d been home two weeks, but still every time he walked in his place,
all he could think about was Shannon. He tossed his cut on his bed and moved
into the kitchen to grab a bottle of beer. Then he strolled over to the pool
table. Leaning back against it, he picked up one of the framed pictures that
Shannon had taken. The one of all the guys laughing that morning at The Pony
outside Reno. His thumb slid over it, and he took a hit off his beer,
remembering.

He set the photo back down and pulled his cell out. He scrolled through
it, pulling up the only two photos he had of Shannon. The ones he’d taken that
morning in the motel room in Tahoe. The first, her lying in bed, her golden
skin and the sexy line of her back, bottom and legs against the white sheet.
One she didn’t know he’d taken. The second, a close up of her face on the
pillow, turned toward him, looking right at him, smiling. Her face looked so full
of love. She looked happy. Happy to be in that two-bit motel, not the Hilton or
whatever five-star hotels she was used to. Just a mom and pop place with a
standard bed. Nothing fancy. But she’d been happy staying there, happy to just
be with him.

How the hell had it all gone to shit so fast?

He blew out a frustrated breath. What the hell difference did it make?
Why the hell did he keep tormenting himself with this bullshit? He’d been
through hell the last few months, and somehow, however poorly, he was
surviving. But still he felt like a fragile piece of glass, ready to break, and
all because he couldn’t stop thinking about one blonde.

Running an aggravated hand through his hair, he slid his phone back in his
pocket and walked up on his roof, taking a seat and lighting up a smoke. The
sun was sliding into the horizon, leaving the sky in layers of changing colors
from vivid blues and purples to bright pinks and golds.

The peacefulness he tried to find was soon interrupted by the ringtone
of his cell phone. Crash pulled it out and looked at the readout. Cole.

He answered. “Yeah?”

“Come get your goddamn cat back!”

Crash grinned. “Nope. I gave him to Melissa. It’s your cat now.”

“Yeah, thanks for that, by the way.”

Crash chuckled. “Sorry, brother. She fell in love with him. What choice
did I have?”

“You planned this, didn’t you? The whole time, you were planning to dump
that damn fur-ball on me. What’d I ever do to you?”

Crash blew out a stream of smoke. “I’m sure I could come up with a
list.”

“Son-of-a-bitch. I can’t even run the damn thing over. Melissa would
never forgive me.”

Crash grinned. “Nope. Guess you’re stuck with him.”

“Eddie. Who names their cat Eddie?”

Crash’s grin faded remembering the story Shannon had told him about how
she’d named all her cats after guitarists. “Shannon named him after Eddie Van
Halen.”

“Christ!”

“That the only reason you called, to bitch about the cat?”

“No. Can you be at the clubhouse in about an hour?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Mack called a meeting.”

“What about?”

“You’re boys, Jake and Shane.”

“And?”

“We’ll talk when we meet.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m on my way.”

*****

An hour later, the boys were all seated around the table. Mack looked
over at Crash. “First of all, hadn’t had a chance to formally say this, but I
think I can speak for all of us when I say we’re glad you’re home. This is your
family, Crash. It’s where you belong.”

There was a murmuring of agreement around the table. Crash nodded. “Thanks,
boys. Appreciate it.”

“Next,” Mack continued. “We’ve all gotten to know your boys, Jake and
Shane. If you agree to sponsor one of them, Cole’s offered to sponsor the
other.”

Crash nodded. “Done.”

Mack looked around the table and raised his hand in the air. “All in
favor of bringing on Jake and Shane as prospects?” Arms went up all around the
table. His gaze stopped pointedly at Wolf, who hadn’t raised his hand. “Seriously,
brother? I thought you left that shit in the cage?”

Cole and Crash turned murderous looks on Wolf, who rolled his eyes and
reluctantly raised his hand, mumbling, “You know I’m gonna give ‘em hell,
right?”

“They’ll be treated like every other prospect,” Mack growled. “All
right, that’s done. We’ll get them some cuts and present them next week.” He
turned to Cole. “Next piece of business. Need you to pay a visit to our good
friend Artie. Cajun went by Queen of Hearts last night to pick up this month’s
payment. Artie wasn’t there. Take somebody with you and take care of it. I’m
tired of dicking around with this son-of-a-bitch.”

Cole nodded once and looked at Dog. “Dog, you and me.”

“Shit, Mary’s gonna have my ass. Tonight’s her birthday.”

“I got it,” Crash offered. “Nobody’s at home waitin’ on me.”

Cole and Red Dog exchanged a look.

Mack slammed the gavel down.

They all filed out of the meeting room.

Cole watched Crash move to the bar, grab a bottle of bourbon and head to
a table in a dark corner. Mack walked up next to Cole, following the direction
of his eyes. “I’m guessing the time away didn’t do much good.”

“Doesn’t look that way.” Cole walked toward Crash and sat down. “You
gonna spend all day giving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to that bottle?”

Crash picked up the bottle and refilled his glass. Setting the bottle
down, he looked over at Cole. “Maybe.”

“You gonna start this crap again? Night after night, sitting in this
corner?” Cole watched Crash’s eyes lift to meet his. At least he was listening.
“Brother, I know you’ve lost a lot. And all of it in a short time.”

“Don’t need a recap of my life, Cole. I’m the one livin’ it.”

Cole’s hands rested on the table, he raised them slightly as if at a
loss. “I just hate seein’ you this way, brother.”

Crash looked over at him, his hand still clenched around the neck of the
bottle. “Then don’t watch.”

“Crash, this can’t go on. You’ve got to pull your shit together.” Cole
watched his eyes move around the room.

“Am I letting somebody down? Am I letting my club down? My brothers
down?”

Cole looked down at his hands on the table and shook his head. “That’s
not what I’m trying to say. What can I do to help you?”

Crash shook his head. “There’s nothing you
can
do, Cole. It is what it is.”

Mack walked up, a drink in one hand and a cigar in the other. His eyes
took in Crash, and then moved to Cole. “Who’s paying the visit to Artie
tonight?”

“Me,” Cole and Crash both replied simultaneously.

Mack and Cole both looked over at Crash. Mack took a puff on his cigar.
“Yeah, okay.” He walked away.

Cole turned to Crash. “Crash, I got this tonight. Why don’t you head
home and-”

“Cole, I need this. I need to do something other than go home to that
empty loft.”

Cole studied him and nodded. “Okay, brother. But I need you sober.” He
looked at the bottle to emphasize his point.

Crash pushed it away. “All right.”

Cole stood and hit him lightly in the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get some
coffee.”

*****

Artie Gorman was in the gravel parking lot behind The Queen of Hearts.
He finished loading a couple of boxes into the trunk of his Cadillac and
straightened, slamming it shut. “Shit!” He jumped back startled to see the two
men standing there in their Evil Dead cuts, grins on their faces.

“Hey,” Crash greeted him.

“Oh, hey,” Artie mumbled.

Crash glanced down at the vehicle. “Nice car.” Before Artie could
respond, Crash grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his face into
the trunk.

*****

Shannon stood in her bedroom at the French doors that led to the second
floor veranda overlooking the rear gardens. Turning, she looked over at her
sister. “Shelby, I don’t need this right now. I’m done talking about it. I’m
done thinking about it. I can’t do this anymore.”

“You need to do this. Look at you. You haven’t left the house since the
funeral.” She strolled over to Shannon’s dresser and picked up one of the half
dozen prescription bottles. “You’re not sleeping. You’re not eating. You’re
back on all these damn pills again.”

“My father died!” Shannon screamed at her. “Can you get off my back?”

“My father died, too, Shannon.”

“Well, maybe I’m not as strong as you.”

“You were when you first came home. You were stronger than I’ve ever
seen you. And it was because of him, wasn’t it?”

Shannon put her hand on the paned glass, pressing her forehead to its
coolness. She wished to God she’d never shared her feelings with her sister.
She wished she’d never confided in her how broken hearted she’d been when she found
out Crash practically put the gun in their father’s hand. She’d broken down and
confessed everything that had happened between them. She shook her head. And
now her sister was going to throw it all back in her face. “Shelby, I don’t
want to talk about this. I should have never told you anything.”

“Well, you need to talk about it. Someone has to talk some sense into
you, because you’re being unreasonable. That man loved you. Everything he did
was for you.”

“Shelby, you didn’t even know the man.”

“I know what you’ve told me. And I saw how much he cared for you the day
he brought you home.”

“He told our father the best thing he could do for us was blow his
brains out. That’s why he killed himself. How can I forgive that? How can
you
?”

“What a load of crap.”

“What do you mean?”

“Shannon, our father was being investigated by the SEC. That’s really
why he killed himself. He was going to jail.”

Shannon frowned. “The Securities and Exchange Commission? How do you
know that?”

“Uncle Bill had his attorney look into it.”

“What?”

“Dad had until noon that day to turn himself in. He took the coward’s
way out. He didn’t want to go to prison, Shannon. It was as simple as that. He
didn’t think about what this would do to Mom, or you or me. He didn’t think
about us at all. And anything in that note that says any different is bullshit.
It was a purely selfish act. He was thinking only of himself.”

*****

Late that night, Cole, Wolf, Cajun and Green returned to the clubhouse, walked
in and sat at the bar. Crash walked in behind them, grabbed a bottle from
behind the bar and moved past his brothers to a dark table in the corner.
Cole’s eyes followed him. He hated having to stand by as his brother fell into
a deep depression. Not even Crash’s brothers, who had always been a family to him,
could help him with this pain.

Not even other women could get his mind off the grief. He just wasn’t
interested in them. If one tried to come on to him, he shook them off. The
first time he tried to be kind about it. If any of them were brazen enough or
stupid enough to try a second come on, he got nasty, usually barking at them to
leave him the fuck alone.

Wolf looked over at Crash. “Maybe he needs to get laid.”

Cole tapped his cigarette in the ashtray. “Yeah, but there’s only one
woman he wants.”

Mack walked up and took a seat next to Cole. “How’d it go?”

“To hell,” Cole answered.

“What happened? You get the money?”

“Yeah. Artie’s not gonna be a problem again.”

“You sure?”

“After the way Crash roughed him up, yeah.”

Mack could see his VP was still bothered by something. “And?”

“We’ve got another problem to deal with.”

“What’s that?”

Cole lifted his chin towards Crash. “Him.”

“Yeah? How’s he doing?”

“We met up with Wolf, Green and Cajun at Marty’s on the way back.”

“So?”

“Crash earned his name again today,” Wolf put in.