GHOST: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 5) (17 page)

He led her through big massive double wooden doors. They entered an area she supposed was once the hostess station. The walls were stone, made to look like plaster with areas showing the exposed stone beneath. He led her up a set of winding stairs; only they were made to look as if they were lines with sandbags, like it was a bomb shelter or something. When they got to the top, there was a set of coat hooks on the wall with old vintage WWII bomber jackets hanging on them, and aviator caps and goggles. To the left was a bar with a large mirror backing it and shelving with more memorabilia. To the right was what must have been the dining room with a bank of plate glass windows that overlooked the most amazing view of the airport in the distance. She could see the runway landing lights and the control tower off in the distance.

The ceiling had big exposed beams, and there was a huge stone fireplace anchoring the other side of the room. In between, where she supposed all the tables had once been was now some living room furniture.

“So…you live here?”

“Yup. Come on, I’ll show you the rest.” He walked her through the room to a doorway on the other side. It must have been a smaller private room or event room. It also had huge windows overlooking the view, and he’d turned it into a bedroom with a big bed facing that view.

“Oh my God!”

He grinned. “Like it?”

“It’s amazing. You wake up to that view every morning?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She frowned. “But what about the noise from the airplanes landing and taking off?”

He shrugged. “You’d think they’d be a problem, but they sound proofed the place pretty good. Come on, I want to show you my favorite part of the whole place.”

He led her back toward the bar, paused to go behind it long enough to grab two bottles of beer from a cooler and then led her down another staircase. This one led down to an outdoor courtyard setup to look like a bombed out section of the building with the roof missing and just the rafters and big exposed beams still standing. There was a big stone floor and another stone fireplace on the other end. It opened to the side facing the airport.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“It feels like I’m in some bombed-out ruins from WWI or II. It’s amazing. God, you could have some awesome parties and events in a place like this. I can just imagine the place cleaned up and with strings of lights…”

He took her hand. “Well, there’s still a lot of work to do before I start planning any parties here.” He led her out toward the side that faced the airport. There was a large stone terrace with a circular stone fire pit and some Adirondack chairs sitting around it.

They both sat, and he handed her a bottle. The night air was the perfect temperature, warm but with a cool breeze blowing. She could smell honeysuckle blooming nearby, but couldn’t see it in the dark.

The lights of the runway flickered in the distance.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet night. A plane came in on it’s final approach in the distance, and they both watched it land and taxy toward the terminal.

She felt Ghost turn his head toward her and could feel him studying her for a long moment out of the corner of her eye until finally he spoke.

“Tell me why you ran away.”

She noticed it wasn’t really a question. She turned and looked at him, his eyes were clear, intent and brooked no nonsense. He wanted an answer, a serious one, not some flippant joke. She took a sip of beer, her eyes going back to the lights of the airport.

“Everything just sort of fell apart.”

“I want to know all of it, Jess.”

She rolled her head on the back of the seat, her eyes meeting his. “Robert died.”

He nodded. “Before that. Something happened before that, didn’t it?”

She looked away, unable to continue to meet his probing stare. Yes, something had happened before that. Ghost had removed himself from her life. She swallowed, unsure she’d be able to admit the effect that had had on her.

“Tell me.” His voice was low, deep, but it was also insistent.

She set her bottle down on the stone and rubbed her arms. “It’s getting kind of chilly out here.”

“Jess—”

He was on to her stalling tactic. It wasn’t chilly out here, and he saw through her lie.

She turned on him, her voice sharp. “You were gone. Is that what you wanted to hear? You left. And then Robert left.”

He looked a little stunned, and she suddenly felt a little sick to her stomach, but she kept going, knowing she needed to get it all out or she never would.

“I started hanging with the wrong people.”

He nodded. “Yeah, you did. But what I don’t understand is why.”

She shrugged again.

“Jess, talk to me.”

She stood, walking a few feet, hugging herself. With her back to him, she admitted quietly, “It broke my heart when you stopped coming around. It was like you cut me out of your life.”

It was quiet for a long moment, the silence only broken when she heard his chair creak and felt him come up behind her. And then his arms were around her as he pulled her back against him. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head, and then his lips were at her ear.

“Never meant to do that, brat. Never meant to hurt you like that. Never.”

Oh, God. She’d breakdown if he kept up this sweet. She could handle an argument easier than she could handle sweet from him. “Ghost, don’t.”

“You didn’t understand why I left, did you?”

She shook her head.

He tightened his arms. “I thought I was doing what was best for you. You had a bright future, Jess, college, everything. I would have sidetracked all of that. I couldn’t do that.”

“I needed you,” she admitted in a whisper.

She felt him dip his head to her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the curve of her neck. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t come around you then. Not with how things were between us.”

“I thought things were good between us.”

“Jess, you know what I mean. I gotta spell it out? You were growing up, and I was taking notice in a way I shouldn’t have.”

She shook her head. “It hurt, Ghost. You just cutting me out like that.”

He exhaled deeply and his tone hardened “What do you want me to say? The things I was starting to feel, the things I was starting to want…” he broke off releasing her and stepping away.

She turned to him.

“Say it. I need you to say it.”

He whirled back on her. “I wanted you. But I couldn’t have you, Jess. You know that. Me leaving was the best thing I could do for you.”

“Doesn’t feel like it turned out that way.”

He slammed a fist into his chest. “And that’s
my
fault? You runnin’ off with that loser—that’s my fault?”

She looked down.

“You were supposed to go to college, Jess. You were smart. You could have done anything. Hell, you had you’re whole life ahead of you.” He paused, running his hand through his hair. “And what do you do? Run off with that little fucker to God knows where.”

“Stop!”

“No, Jess.
You
fucked up.
You!
Don’t try and put that on me.”

She turned away, brushing away the sudden tears that burned her eyes. She
had
fucked up. Everything. Every word he said was true. But he just didn’t understand. She’d been in such a dark place then.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t ask you about this shit to start a fight.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Tryin’ to understand, I guess.”

“Understand what?”

“Why you went off with that guy. Hell, if you were going to throw it all away, you could’ve done that with me.”

She turned her head to the side, just far enough to see him out of the corner of her eye. “You were jealous?”

She saw him stiffen.

“Was he better for you than I would have been?” he growled.

She swallowed. No, he wasn’t even in the same league. He’d been okay to her at first, but things had soon gone downhill. And she’d stayed with him because she’d been ashamed to admit she’d made a mistake, that she’d fucked up. Pride had made her stick with him longer than she should have. Way longer. And then, when it’d turned physical, she’d been even more ashamed. She’d left with no plans, no possessions, just the clothes on her back. She was even more embarrassed that she’d allowed it to escalate that far. And when she’s reached that final straw, and she knew she’d had nowhere else to turn, she went looking for the one man that made her feel safe.

“Was he, Jess?”

She shook her head, replying quietly, “You know he wasn’t.”

“You left Seattle with no car, no bags, barely any money. What happened?”

She shook her head again. “Nothing. I’d just had enough.”

“What aren’t you tellin’ me, Jess?”

“Stop, Ghost, please.”

“He hurt you?”

Yes, badly
. But she couldn’t tell Ghost that. He’d go off the deep end. So, instead she shook her head.

“Jess, tell me. Say the word and I’m on my bike headed to fucking Seattle to beat that motherfucker’s ass.”

She couldn’t have that. She didn’t want Ghost to get involved in that, to commit a felony for her. And the last thing she wanted was to ever have anything to do with Kyle again. So she pasted on a bright smile and turned to face Ghost.

“Gonna play the big bad brother part, huh?”

“If that’s what you need me to do, brat. Absolutely.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Not necessary. No ass beating required. I promise.”

His eyes searched hers, and she was sure he could read the lies on her face.

“Someday you’re gonna tell me all of it.
That’s
a promise.”

She went to him, pressing her head into his chest, her arms hugging him tight. “Not tonight, Ghost. Please.”

His arms closed around her, and his lips brushed her forehead.

“Okay, brat. Not tonight.”

She held him, her eyes closed, breathing in his scent, soaking up his warmth. She felt safe from all of it. Kyle, and the Death Heads. And she felt what little energy she had drain right out of her.

He held her a few moments longer, somehow sensing she needed it. Then his hold loosened.

“Come on, brat. Let’s get you to bed.

He took her inside and set her up in his bed, taking the couch for himself.

This time, she didn’t try to persuade him to join her, the wounds of his rejection still smarting. But that didn’t make the long night spent alone in his big bed any easier, especially when she was surrounded by the scent of him lingering on his sheets. She curled up, inhaling deeply from the fistful she pulled to her face and fell asleep, wishing things were different.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ghost woke to the smell of bacon. He frowned, pushing the throw blanket off him and glancing around, finding it strange to be waking on his couch for a split second before it all came rushing back.

Jessie was in his bed. Only she wasn’t. She apparently was making bacon.

He walked into the tiny room around the corner behind the bar that he’d converted into his kitchen, leaving the industrial kitchen alone for now until he decided what to do with the place.

He leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms and took in the sight before him. Jessie was standing at the stove adding a sprinkle of cheese to some scrambled eggs cooking in a pan.

His eyes skated down her. She had on one of his flannel shirts, her legs bare underneath, and he couldn’t help but wonder what else was bare under there. As he leisurely took in the sight, she lifted one bare foot to rub it against the back of her calf and hell, if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Mornin’, brat.”

Her head swiveled, startled, and her eyes took him in. The bare chest, the sweats hanging low on his hips. And he watched her flush and swallow.

“Good morning. You woke up.”

“To a man, the smell of bacon cookin’ is better than any alarm clock.”

She grinned. “I’ll have to remember that. I hope you’re hungry.”

He moved to the stove, his eyes to a pot. “Are those grits?”

“Um hmm. And fried potatoes, and there are cheese biscuits in the oven. I didn’t make gravy, I know how you love biscuits and gravy, but I couldn’t find—”

He cut her off by pulling her into his arms, his mouth coming down on hers with a smack.

She looked up at him startled. “What was that for?”

“You cooked for me. I haven’t had anybody cook for me, hell, probably since you and your mom. At least not a good southern breakfast like this.” She pushed back out of his arms, grinning, and he watched her face flush. With embarrassment or happiness that she’d pleased him, he couldn’t be sure.

“Well, go sit down, and I’ll bring you a plate.”

He let her go and walked back out to the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools.

A moment later, she carried out two plates, setting one heaping helping in front of him. It smelled amazing. He dug in and groaned around the mouthful. “Damn, baby. This is delicious.” He looked over at her where she sat beside him. “I forgot how good you could cook.”

She gave him a shy smile and shrugged. “Its just breakfast. Anybody could do it.”

“Uh, no. In my experience just
anybody
can’t do it. Some people can’t even scramble an egg, let alone the rest of this.” He waved his fork over his plate.

“Mama taught me.”

He nodded. “Whatever else you say about her, she was a phenomenal cook.” He grinned. “Probably how she hooked my old man.”

She looked down at her plate and replied quietly, “Yeah, maybe.”

He bit into a strip of bacon and studied her suddenly sad expression, frowning. Was it the mention of her mother that made her sad, or the mention of his father? “Jess?”

“I miss him, you know.”

He frowned, chewing. “Who?”

She turned suddenly glassy eyes on him. “Robert.”

He swallowed at that, the food suddenly feeling like a rock in his throat. He looked down at his plate. “I know, brat. I miss him, too.”

When she was quiet, he reached over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Remember that time he tried to sneak into the pool of the apartment complex down the street? He climbed up over the little storage shed and fell through the roof.”

That got a smile out of her. She looked over at him, a tinkle of laughter escaping.

“Funniest thing I ever saw,” he admitted, grinning.

“Me, too.”

“Management chased him through the whole complex, remember?”

“You hid me behind the dumpsters, while they chased him.”

“Couldn’t let you go down for our crime.”

They finished the rest of their breakfast in happy chatter, reminiscing about days gone by.

“You cooked, so I’ll clean up,” he said, reaching for both their plates.

“You remember that rule, huh?”

“You’re momma taught me well. I do my share.” He stood with the plates in his hands and nodded with his head back toward the bedroom. “Go take a shower. I got this.”

She jumped off her stool. “Sounds good to me.”

He grinned, watching her walk off, his eyes on her ass, right where they shouldn’t be. He blew out a breath and turned to head into the kitchen to clean up.

About ten minutes later, as he was starting to cover up the leftovers, since Jessie, like any good southern woman, made way too much, he heard the rumble of some bikes pulling up. Frowning, he tossed the dishtowel over his shoulder and headed downstairs.

Ghost opened the door, his eyes sweeping over five of his brothers, and he blocked the entrance with his body. “What the fuck do you want?”

“We’re selling magazines to support our meth addiction. Can I interest you in a subscription, sir?” Griz joked with a straight face.

“I gave at the office.”

Griz pushed past him. “You ain’t got an office.”

In trouped Hammer, JJ, Heavy, and lastly Shades.

“To what do I owe this visit?” he asked, folding his arms.

Shades tossed a bag to Ghost. “Skylar sent over a few things.”

Ghost caught it to his chest, looking down at it. “Why’d she do that?”

“I told her about the ‘bootylicious sweats’ incident at the truck stop. She offered to take your girl to the mall later. Sent a few things to tide her over till then.” Shades tugged on the dishcloth on his shoulder with a grin as he made to move past Ghost and head up the stairs. “We need to talk, Betty Crocker. Come on.”

Ghost’s brows rose as he watched his brothers all head up the stairs, and he called after them in a sarcastic tone, “Well, come on in and make yourselves at home, why doncha?”

“Thanks, we will,” Hammer replied, his voice echoing down the stairs.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Ghost grumbled beneath his breath as he turned to lock the door, and then followed them up the stairs.

They were all sitting at the bar, except for Griz, who emerged from the kitchen with a plateful of Jessie’s cheese biscuits, munching on a piece of bacon.

“You make these?” he asked.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Shades replied. “He couldn’t make a biscuit if his life depended on it.”

“Gimme one,” Hammer demanded, already reaching toward the plate.

They all grabbed one.

JJ pulled his apart. “Its like a fluffy cloud of magical goodness.”

Ghost rolled his eyes.

Griz sat on a stool, groaning and reaching for his back. “Christ, it’ll take me days to recover from that fucking ride home.”

“Your back hurt?” Ghost asked.

“’Course it does. Doesn’t yours?” he growled back.

“Nope. I had the most phenomenal back rub the other night.” Ghost grinned like the Cheshire cat.

Shades looked over at him with brows raised, his mouth full of biscuit. “Oh, is that so? Do tell.”

Hammer leaned forward to look around Shades. “You sayin’ she can cook like this, looks like she does, and gives backrubs, too? Hell, you don’t marry her, I will, son.”

Ghost’s eyes moved from Shades to Hammer. “You ain’t touchin’ her, bro.”

Just then, their heads all swiveled as the woman in question walked out of the bedroom, her head bent, rubbing a towel on her wet hair, and back in his flannel shirt.

JJ let out a wolf whistle that brought her head up, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

Ghost’s arm swung out, smacking JJ in the side of the head.

“Oww. Son-of-a—”

“Watch your mouth,” Ghost snapped.

“Oh! I didn’t know you had company,” Jessie stuttered out, looking stricken with embarrassment.

Ghost tossed her the bag Shades had given him. “Here, Shades’ ol’ lady sent some clothes over for you.”

Jessie scrambled to grab up the bag, almost dropping the towel. She clutched it to her chest. “Thank you. That was nice of her.”

Shades gave her a smile, nodding. “She’s a good woman.”

“Thank her for me, will you?”

“Will do,” Shades replied.

“Well, don’t just stand there, brat, go put some clothes on,” Ghost ordered with brows raised.

“Hell, let her stand there. I ain’t complainin’,” Hammer put in.

Ghost smacked Hammer in the back of the head, barking to Jessie, “Move.”

“Oww. Fuck,” Hammer bitched, yanking his head away.

When she was gone, Ghost moved around the back of the bar and pulled the carafe from the coffee maker, pouring himself a mug.

“You’re not going to offer the rest of us any?” Shades asked with lifted brow.

Ghost brought the mug to his lips, replying in a growl, “No, ‘cause you ain’t stayin’ that long.”

“We interrupt something, bro?” Hammer asked with a smirk.

“Yeah, breakfast, fuckface.”

A few minutes later, Jessie returned in a pair of jeans and tank top. She moved behind the bar and got herself a cup of coffee.

“Good morning,” she said, eyeing the men.

Heavy replied, “What’s good about it?”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked him.

“Ignore him. He ain’t a mornin’ person,” Ghost informed her.

Heavy looked up at her with a surly face. “There are only two kinds of people in my book. Morning people,” he paused, one brow lifting as he looked at her threateningly. “And the people that want to kill them.”

“All righty, then.” She got in his face, showing no fear. “So, just coffee, then?”

He glared at her.

“Warning, bro. She’s got an attitude and she knows how to use it.”

Heavy’s eyes cut to a grinning Ghost, and then back to her. “Coffee would be good. I wouldn’t say no to a cup of Joe.”

Her brow rose, and she waited.

“What?” he asked, staring at her.

“Pretty sure you didn’t use the magic word, Heavy,” Ghost offered helpfully.

Heavy cut his eyes to him, frowning. “You fucking serious?”

Ghost folded his arms.

Heavy let out a long exasperated breath. “Fine. May I please have a cup of coffee, ma’am?”

She grinned. “Why, yes, of course, sugar-pie. You want it black?”

Heavy frowned over at Ghost. “Sugar-pie? Did she just call me sugar-pie?”

“Yup,” Shades replied with a grin. Then he looked over at Jessie and added, “He loves it when women call him butterbean.”

Heavy pointed a finger at Ghost and warned, “She calls me butterbean and I’m leaving. Just sayin’.”

“Hmm. Butterbean. I’ll remember that in case I ever want to get rid of you,” Jessie teased, and then poured him some coffee.

Shades grabbed the last biscuit from Griz’s hand and shoved it in his mouth.

Griz looked like a kid who’d just had his candy taken from him. He glared over at his VP. “Sometimes you really kill my joy, you know that?”

Shades grinned around the mouthful of cheesy biscuit. “Hmm. Soooo good!”

“You suck.”

Shades just licked his lips in response.

“Karma has no expiration date,” Griz warned. “Just sayin.”

“I’m shaking in my boots.”

“You will be when I tell Skylar you’re eating biscuits when she’s got you eating low carb.”

“You fuckin’ tell her and you’ll be eating through a straw for the next three months.”

“Ooww, I’m shakin’ in
my
boots, now.”

“And why aren’t you home fucking your ol’ lady?” Ghost teased Shades.

“’Cause his future father-in-law is stayin’ in town and visiting his daughter,” Hammer offered with a chuckle.

Ghost’s eyes cut to Shades, and he grinned big. “That true, bro?”

“Motherfucking yes.”

“Got you a little on edge, does he?” Ghost teased.

Shades glared at him and snapped, “You’d be on edge too if the fucking New Orleans Chapter President was taking over your house.”

“Sucks to be you. But you’re the one that had to go and pick his daughter to make your ol’ lady,” Griz teased.

“Like I need you to remind me.”

“I’m sure Undertaker reminds you all the time,” Hammer added, grinning big.

“You two want to cut the shit long enough to tell me why you’re here?” Ghost asked.

“Let’s go outside. I need a smoke,” Shades growled.

They all headed out to the terrace and kicked back in the chairs.

Shades and Ghost, both dipped their heads, cupping their hands around their lighters as they lit up. Then they both tipped their heads back, exhaling long plumes of smoke in the air.