Crash (Evil Dead MC 2)

“Devil Kings are stirring shit up.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Cole glanced toward the bedroom. Crash knew he was considering the fact that Shannon could hear them.

“You want to step out on the roof?” Crash offered.

“Nah.” Cole grinned. “You’re busy. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.”

“You mean who he was doing,” Red Dog corrected with a smirk.

Crash glared at Cole. “So, the purpose of this visit was for nothing?”

“Not nothing. Payback for all those early Sunday mornings you rolled up to the house on me and Angel, brother.”

Crash shook his head and teased, “Angel loves when I visit.”

“She’s cursed you more than once, bro, make no mistake about that.”

Green just sat down at the counter with his plate of waffles.

“Let’s go,” Cole barked.

“What? I haven’t eaten breakfast yet,” Green whined, looking down at his untouched plate.

“There’s a roll of LifeSavers in my saddle bag. Move!”

“Come on, I haven’t even finished my coffee!”

Red Dog grabbed the coffee can off the counter and pulling the lid off, he held it out towards Green. “Here, put a pinch between your cheek and gum.”

Cole grabbed Green with both hands in the back sleeve openings of his cut and jerked him from his barstool, shoving him toward the elevator. “Move!”

“I’m goin’. I’m goin’.” Green shrugged out of his hold.

As the elevator descended, Green shouted back up the shaft. “Hey, by the way, you’re out of beer.”

Crash picked up Green’s untouched plate of waffles and headed toward the bedroom. “Breakfast in bed, milady.” He paused. The bed was empty. He glanced over his shoulder toward the empty bathroom. Setting the plate down on the dresser, he headed out to the roof.

Shannon stood watching the bay bridge, her coffee mug sitting on the ledge of the wall next to her. His over-large tee shirt falling midway down her bare thighs, and her tousled long blonde locks tumbling down her back.

Crash approached her from behind. He pressed his chest to her back as he slid his hands down her arms. When he got to her hands, he took them in his, lacing their fingers together and wrapped his arms around her, crossing her arms in front of her. Cuddling her close, his mouth near her ear, he asked, “You okay, pretty baby?”

She nodded against his jaw.

They stood that way a long time, neither saying anything. Crash wasn’t sure if something was bothering her, but he felt the need to hold her, not wanting to lose that closeness they’d found last night. Finally, he stepped back, turned her to face him and gathered her close. “C’mere.”

She went willingly, burrowing under his jaw, and he enfolded her in his arms, one hand absently rubbing up and down her back. “There are some things I want to say to you. Things I need to say to you.”

She started to pull away. “Crash, don’t.”

He knew she was expecting the standard ‘morning after’ speech. ‘Last night was fun. Thanks for a good time’. But that wasn’t what he wanted to tell her. He wanted to talk about important things. Real things. He held tight, not letting her pull away, not letting her rebuild those walls he’d fought so hard to tear down. “Quit.”

“Look,” she started. “We said one night, and I guess we didn’t really think this through, that I’d still be here the next morning. I’m sure all your women usually don’t stick around. But here I am, still here. And now I’m sure you’re rethinking this whole thing. And now it’s going to be awkward and-”

“Shannon, shut up.”

“Crash-”