Crash (Evil Dead MC 2)

“I suppose you’re gonna point the finger at me,” Green surmised.

“Yeah, and you know which one,” Red Dog put in.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Crash snapped.

Red Dog shoved Green. “Douchebag!”

*****

The first streaks of dawn were painting the horizon when Crash finally made it back home. After meeting back up with Cole at the clubhouse, he was exhausted. He rolled into the garage and climbed off, stretching. Then he headed for the elevator. He leaned back against the rail as he ascended, wanting nothing more than to lie down.

Arriving at the second level, Crash threw the lever stopping the elevator. And that’s when he heard it. Soft muffled crying. Something wasn’t right. A jolt of adrenaline went through him accompanied by a shot of pure terror.

“Shannon!” He yelled for her as he flung the gate open and rushed into the loft. She didn’t reply, as he jogged toward the bedroom, jerking the paperclips aside. The bed was empty. Glancing back toward the living room, his eyes searched frantically. Where the hell was she? And then he heard it, the quiet sobbing. He swiveled his head back. It was coming from the far side of the bed. He stalked around the massive bed and saw her huddled in a ball in the corner, her back against the brick wall.

“Shannon!” He quickly moved toward her. She scurried back, as if she was terrified of him. And that’s when he saw the gun in her shaking hands. He froze, his hands going up. “Baby, it’s me.”

She stared up at him, tears streaming down her face. The look on her face had him wondering if she realized who was standing before her. He backed up a few steps. “Shannon, it’s me. It’s Crash. You’re safe.”

And then the gun clattered to the floor, and she was scrambling to her feet and jumping into his arms. His, immediately wrapped around her, holding her tightly. He didn’t know what had happened, but whatever it was, it had scared the holy shit out of her. “Baby, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

She broke down in sobs, clinging to him. He ran his hand over her back, rocking her from side to side. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here.”

Finally, her breathing settled down, and she quieted. He pulled back, holding her upper arms and searched her face. “What the fuck, babe. What happened?”

“There was someone on the roof.” She pointed toward the door that led out there. “They were trying to get in the door.”

Crash’s gaze went to the door.

“I fired off a shot. Into the ceiling. And then it got quiet. I thought maybe I had scared them off. But then I heard someone downstairs. I thought you were them.”

“When? How long ago?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“How long have you been huddled in that corner?”

“I don’t know. A while.”

“Christ, baby. I’m so sorry. I never should have left you alone.”

“Do you think it was him? Do you think he found me?”

Crash thought back to when he’d pulled into the garage. There’d been a group of three of the neighborhood punks standing on the opposite corner. They’d taken off when he’d pulled up. He hadn’t thought much about it, but that’s probably who it had been. “I saw some neighborhood kids out on the street. They ran off when I pulled up. It was probably them. Most likely trying to break in and look around to see if there was anything in here worth stealing. Don’t worry, baby. They weren’t getting through that door. It’s reinforced steel, and dead bolted.”

She pushed out of his arms, moved to the dresser and began rummaging around in her purse. Crash frowned wondering what she was doing until he heard the unmistakable sound of pills rattling in a prescription bottle. He moved to her and grabbing her upper arm, he pulled her around. His eyes fell to the pills she was shaking out into her hand. “What’s that?”

“My pills.”

He reached out his hand, stopping her. “For what?”

“For when I feel like this.”

“And what do the pills do?”

“They…they calm me down.”

“You been taking them all this time?”