Crash (Evil Dead MC 2)

Crash looked at her, stunned for a moment, and then he finally growled, “Were you ever planning to share that shit with me, Shannon?”

Her lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry, Crash. I was afraid you wouldn’t help me.”

Crash thought about what she’d said, and he ran a frustrated hand over his jaw. “An associate of your father’s, huh? So, he’s loaded I take it? Money. Power.”

She nodded. “Ever heard of Ralston Aluminum?”

“You mean Ralston Aluminum, that shit you wrap around your baked potatoes?”

She dashed at the tears on her cheek and tried to smile. “Yes. That stuff you wrap around your baked potatoes, along with about a hundred other products. He’s worth about a billion dollars.”

Crash was taken aback. He knew her father was loaded, but this kind of money? This was a whole nuther league. And his princess had had that at her feet and shoved it away. With both hands, apparently. There had to be more to this story, a whole lot more. Girls like her didn’t walk away from money like that. They were groomed their whole lives for that shit. Catching a suitable husband. Hell, she’d hit the fucking mother lode. And she’d shoved it away and run from it—run straight into the grips of a goddamn MC. For safety. For protection. From what? What was she afraid of? “Shannon, I don’t give a fuck how many guys Mr. Baked Potato Head has. He’s not touching you. You hear me?”

Her lips twitched as she tried to hold back a laugh. “Mr. Baked Potato Head?”

“I’m not joking, Shannon. Sir Tin Man is gonna be a dead man if he tries to get anywhere near you. Do you hear me? So, knock off this incognito bullshit.”

“Sir Tin Man?” She burst out laughing.

Well, at least he got her laughing, and the tears had stopped. He couldn’t handle those. Crying Shannon gave him the shakes. Laughing Shannon he could handle. He pulled her to her feet, his palms cupping her face, tilting it up to his. “Look at me, Princess.” He stared deeply into her big eyes. “I don’t want you to worry. I don’t want you to be afraid. All right?”

She shook her head. “Crash, they were looking for someone—for me. I know it. He’s figured out where I went. He knows I’m with you. When they find us, they’ll take me back to…” She broke down into tears again. “You don’t know what he’s capable of, Crash.”

“And he doesn’t want to find out what I’m capable of,” Crash warned and pulled her against him. Wrapping his arms around her, he cradled her head to his chest. “Shh, darlin’. I’m not letting anybody take you.” He held her until the worst of it was over. When she quieted, he whispered, his mouth against the top of her head, “Tell me the rest of it.”

“The rest?” she asked, not moving.

“What is it about this guy that’s got you so scared you’d leave your life and hide out with an MC? What did he do to you?” If he’d hurt her, Crash was gonna break his goddamn neck. It took her a moment before she answered him, her face still buried against his chest, and he swore her hold around his waist tightened. Goddamn it, she was scared.

“I met him about two years ago at my father’s office. He was attractive. Refined. Polite. He asked me to dinner. At first, I really liked him. He was charming. Attentive. I thought he was my prince charming.” She laughed. “Silly, huh? We women all fall for that—we all buy into that fairy tale.”

“Why not? You deserve it, to be treated like a princess.” His hand stroked the hair at the back of her head. “You said ‘at first’. What changed?”

“He eventually showed his true colors.”

“And what are his ‘true colors’?”

“He’s controlling. Extremely controlling. About everything. Who I could see, where I could go, what I could wear.”

“And if you didn’t comply?”

“He’d find ways of making me pay.”

“Physically? He hurt you?” His hold tightened.

“Not hit me, if that’s what you mean. He…things started happening with my father’s business. Every time I disobeyed him, something bad would happen—he’d lose a client or a deal would suddenly fall through.”

“You think he was behind it?”

“I know he was.” Crash was quiet, watching for her to give him the rest. She continued. “Then he had his doctor put me on medication. Pills. He insisted I take them. They made me…docile, compliant, easy to manage I guess you’d say.”

Fuck. He was turning her into his own goddamn Stepford Wife.

“I started to pretend to take them and spit them out. He figured out the game I was playing, of course, because I wasn’t acting the way the drug was supposed to make me act. That’s when I think he started lacing my food with it.”

“Christ, Shannon.” He tightened his hold on her. “Your father, he wouldn’t protect you from this guy?”

“Nicklaus is powerful. He’s got some kind of hold over my father. I’m not sure what.” She shrugged.