Crash (Evil Dead MC 2)

They flew across town to Crash’s loft. He stormed through the loft calling Shannon’s name. He paused half a second in the doorway to the bedroom, taking in the room. Her things were still all there. He took the steps to the roof two at a time, and Cole followed him up. The door boomed as it slammed open. Wolf was slumped in one of the chairs, but there was no sign of Shannon. Crash sprinted across the roof, half expecting to find Wolf with a bullet hole through his chest. He appeared to be passed out. Crash shook him roughly. “Wolf! Wake the fuck up!” When he got no response he slapped his face. Finally, Wolf started to come around.

He looked around dazedly.

“Where’s Shannon?” Crash barked.

“Hmmm?” Wolf asked, frowning and licking his lips, still out of it.

Crash yanked him up by his vest, pulling him to his feet. “Motherfucker, where’s Shannon?”

Cole picked up the drink glass sitting next to Wolf’s chair and smelled it. “Didn’t you tell me Shannon had some sleeping pills with her?”

Crash dropped an unresponsive Wolf back onto the chair. “Yeah, why?”

“I think she dosed him.”

Crash met his eyes, and then looked back at Wolf. “She dosed him? Why would she do that?”

“She wanted to give herself up from the start, Crash.”

“Fuck!” Crash collapsed into the chair next to Wolf. “I’ve got to get her.”

“I know, man. I know. We will.”

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Tate had been sent on an errand all the way down to San Diego. He’d wanted to stay near Shannon and keep an eye on her, but he’d been afraid to try to talk his way out of the errand. Nicklaus was already suspicious of him. So, he’d gone on the damned errand, and it had ended up taking two days. Now it was Thursday night. He walked into the library of the second estate they’d moved Shannon to, and he stopped short. She was standing there in a negligee. Christ she looked like hell. How the hell much of that shit had he given her? He’d only been gone forty-eight hours. Was it possible to become that strung out so quickly? “Boss.”

Nicklaus’s eyes moved from Shannon to him. “Ah, Tate. You’re back. Superb. I’ll need you tonight.”

“Everything okay here?” his eyes moved to Shannon as he moved further into the room.

“Everything is fine, isn’t it, luv?” he asked Shannon. “Of course, Shannon here is having a little craving, aren’t you, dear?”

“Please, Nick. I need it.”

“Now is that how you ask?”

Tate watched as Nick nodded toward the floor. Then he watched unbelievably as the beautiful strong woman from just a few days ago dropped to her knees in front of this man.

“Please Nick. I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

The pleading sound of her voice turned his stomach. Lifting his eyes to Ralston, Tate thought about how much he wanted to drill a round through his head.

*****

Crash paced the floor of the clubhouse. He ran his hand through his hair for the tenth time. “He should have called by now. He was supposed to call.”

“Calm down, brother. He said he’d let us know by six o’clock. It’s only half past five.” Cole leaned against a barstool, his arms folded and watched his friend pace. He knew this was killing Crash, because he knew just how he felt from when Angel was with that asshole. He wanted to kill the motherfucker, and that was exactly what he planned to do. By this time tomorrow that son-of-a-bitch wouldn’t be breathing.

Angel had gone through hell the last two days with withdrawal from whatever drug they’d given her. She’d had severe headaches and tremors. Then they’d moved t

o body and muscle aches as if she’d had the flu. Cole had held her close in bed the last two nights as she struggled through the symptoms and the sleeplessness that accompanied them. He’d begged her forgiveness, guilt overwhelming him, but she’d reassured him that she didn’t blame him, and she’d told him she’d had total faith in him that he’d never give up until he had her back. Hearing her express her faith in him like that had touched something deep inside him. He hated what she’d been through, but in the end, it had brought them closer as a couple as he’d realized all over again how important she was to him.

He looked over at his brother, watching the torment he was going through. A torment that had already lasted two long days.

The clubhouse phone rang, and Cole spun to answer it. “Yeah?” He looked at Crash, who had paused his pacing and was staring at him. He nodded his head. “Yeah, okay. Okay, right. Got it. I understand. Give you my word, man. We’ll hold off, just give me the goddamned location.” He paused, then snapped his fingers, signaling to Red Dog, who slid him a piece of paper and a pen. Cole began to scribble down an address and a few vague directions. “The back? Sliding glass doors. Got it.”

After he hung up, he turned to Crash and his brothers. “Let’s pull up the map. Go over it and make sure everyone’s on the same page.” He paused and looked at Crash, knowing his next words were going to gut him. “He’s leaving for Europe on a private jet at midnight, so we’ve only got one shot at this.”