Crash (Evil Dead MC 2)

Now the dreadlocks made sense.

The big muscled man had his own long dark dreads hanging to his waist. They were tied back in some semblance of a ponytail—as thick around as Crash’s forearm. His skin was a smooth mocha brown.

She turned to look over her shoulder at the man. “Relax, Ace. He’s my big brother.”

“Who’s this, Loretta?” Crash asked, his voice low as he set her back on her feet.

“Loretta?” the man asked, dark brows arching.

“That’s my given name, Ace.”

“Please, God, tell me your mama didn’t name you after a country singer.”

“Yep. Loretta Lynn Shaw.”

“And I thought Letty was bad enough.”

“Shut up, Ace, and get over here and shake hands with my brother.”

He strolled over, if a large muscled man could stroll and extended his hand. “Ace Luther.”

Crash studied him. He was bare-chested under his own pair of overalls. His eyes were a golden cat-eyed color. “Crash,” he said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Doesn’t he have the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen, Ty?” his sister asked, starring deeply into the man’s eyes with adoration and possibly love, Crash noted.

“If you say so, sis,” was all Crash would admit to, not about to call another dude’s eyes beautiful.

Ace smiled, revealing even white teeth. “Your sister’s a goof-ball.”

Crash flashed a smile back. “You got that right.”

“Crash? Is that apropos of your riding skill?” Ace asked, nodding toward Crash’s cut.

“No, it’s apropos of my tendency to throw motherfuckers through plate-glass windows.”

Cole made a snorting sound as he tried to stifle his chuckle.

Ace’s eyes moved between them. “Uh huh,” he nodded. “Should I be taking that as a warning?”

“You fuck over my sister, yeah.” Crash stared him down.

“Your sister, I’m finding, can fight her own battles.” Ace touched his chin, turning slightly to reveal a scratch along his jaw. “I’m learning to watch out for her claws and never to tell her I don’t particularly care for one of her pieces of pottery.”

“Next time you tell me you don’t like one of my pieces, I’m going to break it over your head,” Letty warned, her hand landing on her out-thrust hip.

Cole chuckled.

“Chill, woman. Christ, she’s got a temper. That run in the family, too?” Ace looked at Crash.

Letty grinned. “Nope. Ty’s as laid back as they come. Takes a lot to rile him. But once he’s riled—watch out.”

“Point taken.” Ace smiled down at Letty.

“You two have a few things in common,” she told Ace.

“You mean other than you?”

“Yes, other than me. Ty works with metal. He does the most amazing pieces with wrought iron,” she bragged on her brother.