Crash (Evil Dead MC 2)

“Not a chance, brother,” Shane insisted.

“How low do you think we are?” Jake put in.

They reached the bikes. Crash dipped his head low to her face and spoke softly. “You gonna be okay to ride, sweetheart?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, honey. We’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Shannon.” He rubbed up and down her back. He could still feel the tremors shaking through her body.

“I feel so stupid.”

“Shh. You’re not stupid, Shannon.”

“You must think I’m a basket-case.” She tried to push away from him, and he could sense the bitch was about to come out. She was scared, and that was her coping mechanism. He needed to break that habit. When he only held on tighter, she struggled harder and snapped, “Let me go!”

“Babe, settle down.”

She only struggled harder, slapping at his chest and head.

Holding her by the upper arms, he shook her. “Look at me. Stop fighting me, and look at me, Shannon.” When finally she settled and her eyes met his he murmured low, his face right in hers, “It’s okay to be afraid, Shannon. You don’t have to pretend you can handle everything.”

“You don’t know me! You don’t know anything about me!” she bit out.

He clenched his jaw, the muscle working. “I know every time you’re scared, the bitch comes out.” She stiffened, and he could see the accusation had hit home. His tone softened. “I know that’s not the real you, that’s just the protective armor you bring out when something scares you. I know something else, Shannon. Nobody is going to hurt you. Not while you’re with me. That’s a promise.” His eyes searched hers. When she made no reply, he shook her again. “You understand me?”

She stared up at him, her lip trembling, and then her face crumpled, and she went into his arms, holding him tight, her face tucked against his throat.

His arms came around her, one hand stroking her head. As his hand caressed over the silky softness of her hair, his mou

th moved to her ear. “Have a little faith in me, Princess. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” He continued stroking her head. “I won’t let anything hurt you, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he whispered. “You need to believe that.”

“I can’t stop shaking.”

“Then I’ll hold you until you do.” She clung to him, and he stroked her hair, his arms around her tight.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her face buried in his chest.

“My pleasure, Princess,” Crash murmured, his lips pressed against the top of her head. He could hear Jake and Shane quietly whispering to each other, musing how similar her reaction was to someone with PTSD, wondering if something traumatic had happened to her, wondering if maybe this ex of hers had beaten her.

*****

A half hour later, they were back at the loft. Shannon was sitting with her legs tucked under her in the middle section of the U-shaped sectional, a throw blanket tucked around her and a mug of hot tea in her hand.

Jake sat on the section running perpendicular to her left, his elbows on his knees and a beer in his hands. He looked over at her and smiled. “Tea. I’ve never understood the appeal. To me it tastes like weak, crappy coffee.”

Shane sat on the section running perpendicular to her right. He took a pull off his own beer and then replied, “That’s because you’re not a chick. Chicks love that shit.”

Crash walked up to her and stood above her, a beer bottle dangling from between the fingers of one hand and a short cut tumbler in his other hand with about an inch worth of amber liquor inside. He held the glass out to her. “Here. This is what you need, Princess.”

She looked up at him, taking in the determined expression on his face and realized he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She took the glass he held out to her.

He took the mug out of her hand and set it on the coffee table. Then he twisted back to her. Standing above her, looking down at her, he ordered, “Drink it.”

She closed her eyes and threw it back, gulping it down in one swallow. She grimaced.