Shades (Evil Dead MC 3)

They drove a few miles before Shades was slowing to make a turn onto a gravel road off to the left. They passed a row of about a dozen mailboxes out by the paved road, and he headed the bike down the gravel at a much slower speed.

It was dusk now. The sun had set, but there was still some light in the sky. It was a vibrant blue. They rolled on past several homes. Some of them cabins, some of them doublewide trailers. All neatly kept with pink azalea bushes or camellias. She could see between the dark shadows of the towering southern pines glimpses of the lake, still as glass and reflecting the vibrant blue of the sky. She also could see a dock out in front of each place, some with bass boats, some with pontoon boats tied up to them.

Skylar looked over Shades’ shoulder and down the road, and she couldn’t imagine where in the world he was taking her.

Finally, as they reached a curve in the shoreline, he turned off onto a dirt drive that led to a small A-frame cabin. It was set up from the shoreline on a slight rise that gave it a magnificent view of the lake and the mountain ridges in the far distance. It was a spectacular vista.

He stopped the bike and shut it off. She stared, stunned.

“Babe, climb off.” His words shook her from her daze. She scrambled off, and he dropped the kickstand and got off.

“Where are we?” she asked, glancing around. The place appeared to be quiet as if it was deserted.

“My place,” he informed her as he headed toward the entrance.

“Your place?” she asked, and she was sure her voice couldn’t have come out more stunned.

He looked back at her as he jammed a key in the door and unlocked it. “Yeah, my place.”

She followed him inside. The interior of the cabin was all beautiful honey-golden wood. The floors, the walls, the ceilings. And beyond, facing the lake was a stunning wall of windows. It really was breathtaking.

In front of the windows was the living area, a small stone fireplace off to the right. Behind the living area and next to where she was standing by the back entrance, was a small kitchen with an open bar that faced the wall of windows and the lake beyond. There were several barstools tucked under it.

Shades threw his keys on the bar, shrugged out of his cut and tossed it over the back of one of the barstools, and then stalked into the small kitchen.

Skylar took a few steps into the living room, toward the windows. The view was amazing. There was a deck out front and a dock beyond that, but no boat of any kind tied up to it. Turning, Skylar’s eyes lifted to the high vaulted ceilings, and she saw the loft above, with the kitchen area tucked in under it. There was a staircase leading up to it off to the left.

“You want something to drink?” Shades asked, and Skylar’s eyes dropped from the loft to see that he was standing in front of the refrigerator, one arm propped on the open door.

“I’ll take a cola if you have one.”

He reached inside and grabbed a couple cans and returned to her. Stopping in front of her, he held one out. She took it.

“Thanks.”

He popped the top on his and guzzled some down.

That he owned this place was just so shocking. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for clues to just who this new Shades was. There was a plaid couch, but it wasn’t old or ratty. It actually seemed like good quality. An old wooden chest served as a coffee table. Motorcycle magazines were scattered over it. She glanced to the fireplace. A few knickknacks on the mantle, a candle, a small clock, and what looked like a bike part. Her eyes lifted to the large framed photo mounted above it. It was a black and white. A line of guys on bikes sat facing the camera, some western mountain range in the background.

He came to stand behind her, and she felt his heat against her back.

“Trip to Sturgis couple years back,” he enlightened her. “Black Hills. Way in the background, that’s Mount Rushmore.”

“It’s a great shot.” She leaned closer. “Which one are you?”

“Third from the right.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“We still got some shit to talk about. You want to do it in here or out on the deck?”

She turned back to him. His expression was unreadable, but there was tension around his mouth and eyes. He wasn’t as pissed off as he’d seemed when they’d left the clubhouse. Perhaps the ride had calmed him down. She looked toward the windows. “The deck.”

He opened the door, and she followed him out. It smelled fresh and clean, like pine trees, water and flowers. She could hear frogs croaking and crickets chirping.

“Have a seat.”

She glanced around. The deck wasn’t overly large, but it was V shaped, thrusting out to a point toward the water. Instead of your standard wooden railing with spindles, the deck was enclosed with clear glass panels, so as not to obscure the view. Skylar couldn’t help but think that was worth every penny of added cost.