Red Dog (Evil Dead MC 6)

“I guess I just had enough, Shane. You know everyone reaches that last straw—the one that breaks the camel’s back.” She shrugged.

“And what was that straw?”

“Look, I know you’re club brothers and all, but it’s really none of your business.”

“Nope, you’re right. It’s not. What is my business is having my brother’s back.” That got her attention and changed her nonchalant attitude in a heartbeat.

“Please don’t call Red Dog,” she pleaded, a thread of panic in her voice.

“Sorry, babe, call’s already been made.”

Her eyes flashed to the door as if she half expected the club to bust through at any second. “Is he on his way?”

“He’s at the Oregon border on club business. Take him probably six hours to get back.”

Her delicate chin came up, her long sleek hair falling over one shoulder. “Good. Go about your business then. You ratted me out; your brotherly duty is fulfilled.”

“Don’t work that way, babe. I got a responsibility to look out for my brother’s ol’ lady. Dog wants you home, that’s where I’m takin’ you, sweetheart.”

He watched one delicately sculpted brow arch. “I’m not going home, Shane.”

A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. She was cute if she thought she could stop him. He took the drink out of her hand and set it on the bar. “Mary, don’t make this difficult. You know I’m takin’ you outta here, even if its gotta be over my shoulder. And I’d rather not haul you through this crowd with your ass in the air, but you know I’ll do it.”

Their eyes locked, and he could see the realization form on her face as she grasped the truth of his words.

“I think you heard the lady. She doesn’t want to leave with you.”

Shane’s head turned, his eyes narrowing on the man behind him. He had an over-the-top spray-tan that looked a sickly orange in the bar light. “Stay outta this, buddy. Only warning you’re gonna get.”

Mary slid off her stool, grabbing Shane’s arm as her eyes connected with the man. “It’s fine. I’ll go with him.”

Shane made to pull free of her grasp, but she squeezed her hand, drawing his attention from the man.

“Don’t start trouble. Please.” Shane’s eyes met her pleading look. He nodded.

“All right. Then let’s go.”

Unfortunately, Spray-tan Dan had shit for brains. He grabbed Mary’s arm. A mistake he’d live to regret.

“The lady is staying here.”

Shane decked him with one powerful punch to the jaw that sent the man sprawling to the floor, and then he moved to stand over his prone body. “You don’t ever touch an Evil Dead ol’ lady. Got that, motherfucker?”

Not waiting for an answer, Shane clamped his hand around Mary’s upper arm and pulled her through the crowd and out the bar. His bike was parked up front, so they didn’t have far to go. He released her, spinning toward her. “What the fuck, Mary? What the hell are you doing here?”

“What do you care?”

“Dog cares. Therefore, I care.”

“To hell with Dog. And to hell with you, too.”

“Christ, Mary, cut me some slack. I don’t like being in this situation anymore than you do. But here we are.” They stared each other down. Seeing he was going to get nowhere with her, he swung his leg over the bike and fired it up. Handing her his helmet, he ordered, “Climb on. Now.”

She was fuming, but she took the helmet from him and complied, her short dress hiking up her thighs. When he felt her arms wrap around him, he gunned the throttle and roared out of the parking lot, cursing himself for picking the wrong bar to stop for a drink.

CHAPTER THREE

It was 7:00 a.m. when the boys finally made it back to San Jose and rolled up at Red Dog’s house. As they cut their engines and the rumble faded, Cole lifted his chin toward the front door, calling all their attention to it. “Dog.”