Ghost (Evil Dead MC 5)

Butcher grunted out a laugh. “Look who’s talking.”

It took them another hour to work out the details.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Tink pulled her beat up old Rambler down the alley, stopping behind the clubhouse gates. Jessie yanked the door handle, looking over at her.

“Thanks for the ride. And for letting me stay with you.”

Tink peered out through the windshield. “I’d go in with you, but I’ve got to get to work.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

Jessie nodded.

Yammer approached the car, leaning into the doorframe and peering in at Tink. “Hey, doll. Ain’t you stayin’?”

The prospect was a shameless flirt when it came to Tink. A factor that Jessie had already learned was a stupid move. Especially when Hammer seemed to have already staked a claim to her. One Tink was quick to deny, a little too vehemently it seemed to Jessie. Someday maybe she’d get the full story on those two.

Tink gave the man a sugary sweet smile. “Sorry, wish I could, but I’ve got to work, Yammer. But Jessie here can stay. Let her in, will ya?”

“Sure thing, Tink. Maybe I’ll see you later tonight, after you get off work?” he asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” she replied, waving her fingers as Jessie climbed out and shut the car door. Then she pulled away.

Yammer looked over at Jessie. “She sure is somethin’, huh?”

Jessie smiled. “She sure is.”

Then he unlatched the gate and let her in.

She glanced around the yard. It seemed very quiet. There were only three bikes parked, and none of them were Ghost’s. She moved to the back door and let herself in. It took her a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. When they did, she spotted Boo behind the bar, and one man sitting on the other side, hunched over a drink. He was one of the older members. A man named, Boot.

He turned to look over his shoulder as she approached.

“He’s not here, darlin’.”

She took the stool next to him. “Do you know where he is?”

Boot blew a stream of smoke at the ceiling, and eyed her. “Maybe.”

Boo walked over; his palms on the bar, he asked her, “Can I get you a drink, Jessie?”

Before she had a chance to answer, Boot told him, “Set her up with a whiskey.”

Boo connected eyes with her, then moved off to do as he was told.

“Maybe I don’t like whiskey,” she said.

“Maybe you’ll drink it anyway.” He downed his own drink.

“O-kay,” she replied softly.

“Thought you ran off?” Boot asked her.

“I’m back.”