Crash (Evil Dead MC 2)

“Now.”

She swallowed, “Crash has been…”

“Crash has been what?”

“Giving protection to a woman.”

He frowned, “What?”

“That woman on the news last night, the missing heiress. She’s with Crash.” His eyes blazed, and then the next thing she knew she was flung to the side, the door slammed open against the wall, and he was gone.

She closed her eyes. What have I done? She had to fix this. She had to stop Mack. Running after him, she caught up with him in the common room.

“Mack, let me go with you,” Cole was saying.

“You’ve done enough! Wolf. Dog. You’re with me. Let’s go.” Mack stalked toward the door. Wolf and Red Dog cast Cole a look and then following their President out.

She ran after him, but Cole caught her upper arm in a vise grip, demanding, “What the hell did you tell him?”

She looked up into his hot glare. He knew she’d told Mack. Boy was she in trouble, but she couldn’t worry about that now. She had to stop Mack. “I’m sorry, Cole.” She pulled free and ran after Mack. Dashing out the front door, she found him lifting his bike up off his kickstand. She rushed over to him, her hands grabbing the handlebars. “Mack, wait.”

“Those little shits think they can run this shit behind my back. First Cole. Now Crash. Well he’s about to see me run her ass off.”

“Don’t you dare go there with that crap.”

“Baby, let go.”

“Mack.” Her voice held warning.

“Jesus Christ.”

“This girl is the reason my Angel is not buried in hospital debt. Her generosity is the reason she can breathe easy. You are not going to ‘run her ass off’.”

“Natalie, let go.”

“Swear to God, Mack. You do, and we are through.”

“Thought you just told me we were through.”

“You know I didn’t mean it.”

He stared at her, and then he said, “Let go.”

She did, and he hit the throttle and pulled out, roaring off the lot.

Cole slammed out of the door, and Natalie twisted to see he had his cell phone to his ear. She heard him bark into it, “He knows. He’s on his way.” Snapping the phone shut, his eyes drilled into hers. “Swear to God, if you weren’t related to me…and my wife didn’t love you…and my kids didn’t love you…and I didn’t love you…”

“You’d what?”

“Beat your ass, woman!”

*****

Crash snapped his phone closed, “Shit!” He stood up from the couch where he’d spent the night. He paced the room.

Fuck.

This was not good.