CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) (46 page)

“He’s
just pissed. He’d never turn you over, Shannon. Relax. Okay?”

She
nodded again.

Crash
stood and leaned down to brush a kiss on her forehead. “Finish your coffee. Sounds
like the boys are back.” Shannon heard the distant rumble of a couple of
motorcycles. “You all right?”

“Yes.”

Crash
walked over to the bikes where Cole stood. They spoke, but they were too far
away for Shannon to hear what was said. A moment later, Red Dog and Wolf rolled
up. There were now five Harleys all in a pretty row, gleaming in the sun.
Shannon lifted her cup and sipped her coffee. She took a deep breath. She had
to put her faith in Crash. He promised he’d take care of her. She had to calm
down and believe it would all be okay.

Wolf
dismounted. Red Dog pulled his helmet off, but sat on his bike. They both
looked exhausted to Crash. He knew how they felt.

Cole
looked over at Red Dog. “He taken care of?”

“Yup.”

“Any
problems?”

Red
Dog climbed slowly off his bike. “Nope.”

“The
money?”

“We
got it. All of it.”

“Good.”
Cole nodded.

Red Dog yawned. “If I don’t get some sleep, I’m gonna be in a really bad
mood all day.”

Wolf looked over at him, grinning. “Yeah? So how would that be any
different than any other day of the week?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. You’re a laugh a minute.”

“I try.”
Wolf
walked over to Cole. “Where’s Green?”

“He’s in there with a Cowgirl and Pocahontas,” Crash supplied.

The guys looked toward the house, saying nothing.

“What, nobody’s gonna touch that?” Cole asked, squinting into the sun.

“Why? This is the most normal thing he’s ever done,” Red Dog replied,
and they all burst out laughing.

Cole’s cell went off, and he stepped away to take a call. When he
finished the call, he informed the boys, “Mack wants us to stop off in Reno. He
made a deal for a shipment of slot machines. We’re taking delivery and
arranging transport for them.”

“Where are they going?”

“Birmingham Chapter.”

“How’re they getting there?”

“Mack’s got Cajun and a couple prospects bringing up a truck. They’ll
meet us and take them to Birmingham.”

“Where’s this going down?”

“We’re meeting the connection at some dry cleaners on the west side.
Don’t know where the drop is until we meet the guy.”

Green walked up a few minutes later.

“Done?” Crash asked, fighting a grin.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is Bravo,” Green replied.

Crash snorted.

“How’s it hangin’, Buffalo Bill?” Red Dog asked.

Green grinned, “No clue what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, right.”

“You get ‘roped ‘n tied’?” Wolf asked, grinning.

“More like ‘tarred ‘n feathered’,” Red Dog replied with a chuckle.

The guys burst out laughing.

Green glared at Crash. “Apparently some people don’t know when to shut
up.”

“Maybe you need to perfect your poker face,” Crash snapped right back. “Or
pull the feather out of your beard, dumbass.”

Green frowned and reached up, running his fingers through his beard. He
pulled free the stray feather that must have come from Pocahontas’s costume and
looked at it. “How about that, a memento.”

Red Dog looked over at Green and shook his head. “You’re startin’ to
worry me.”

Shannon looked down at the camera screen, studying the shot she’d just
taken. The guys standing in front of their bikes laughing hysterically at
something one of them had said. Smiling, she slipped the camera back into her
purse, happy with the shot.

An ear-piercing whistle split the air, and she looked up to see Crash
motioning to her. “Babe! Come on. We’re leaving.”

A half an hour later, they pulled down some back streets into an old
industrial area on the west side of Reno. They slowly rolled down the street. There
were low metal buildings on the left containing a bunch of small businesses.
Garage door, office door, garage door, office door with just enough room in
front for off-street parking to pull up to the building. They rolled past an
auto-detailing company, a roofing contractor, a pest control business and cabinetry
shop. Cole turned in and stopped between a metal fabricator on the left and a
produce supplier on the right. Five bikes rolled up and stopped in front of a blank
door numbered 1925. There were no signs or logos of any kind to identify what
business occupied this space.

They all looked around, taking in the building and adjacent businesses.
Red Dog was the first to point out the obvious. “This don’t look like a dry
cleaner.”

Crash looked over at Cole. “You sure this is it?”

Cole pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket. “1925 Dixon Rd. Yep. This
is it.” He dropped his kickstand. “Come on.”

They all dismounted. Wolf eyed the business adjacent to the left. “Check
out the custom chopper.” They turned to see a metallic green chopper parked in
front. On the side of the gas tank was an image of the face of Frankenstein.

“Damn,” Green whispered.

“That’s killer,” Red Dog added.

Cole tried the door knob. Finding it locked, he banged on the door. They
waited. Crash eyed the outside of the building. Suddenly the door cracked open,
and a small elderly oriental man poked his head out.

Cole frowned and announced, “Lookin’ for Caesar.”

The oriental man stuck his head out further and took in the five bikers.
Then he pointed to Cole and Crash. “You. You. No more.”

Cole and Crash exchanged a look. Crash turned to Red Dog nodding to
Shannon. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

“Gotcha,” Dog replied and looped an arm around Shannon’s neck. “Come on,
doll. Let’s go look at Frankie.” He pulled her toward the chopper.

Wolf and Green sat sideways on their bikes. Green lit a smoke, and
Wolf’s shades scanned the street.

Crash and Cole followed the man inside. They passed what appeared to be
an actual dry cleaning business. It looked like one of those places that all
the corner storefront places shipped their shirts and shit to. They followed
the old man all the way to the back of the building where he stepped past a big
man steam pressing shirts and moved aside a hidden panel. He stepped through
and motioned them to follow.

Cole and Crash exchanged looks. Cole went through the opening into a
hidden room with lines and lines of slot machines and people sitting on
barstools in front of each machine, playing away.

“Christ,” Crash murmured, following him through.

“Quite the little setup, huh?” Cole whispered back.

The oriental man motioned over to a large Spanish man who was standing
to the side with his arms folded. The big man eyed Cole and Crash up and down,
taking in the leather cuts.

“You Caesar?” Cole asked.

“You Cole?”

Cole nodded.

The big man nodded his head for them to follow him. They moved through
the rows of slots, taking a right and moving down another row of slots. Then a
left through another plywood panel into a separate area. When they stepped
through, they saw about two dozen unplugged machines.

“Deal was you were taking six. Fourteen grand a piece.”

“Deal was we take six at twelve grand each.”

“Na. Na. Na. That’s bullshit. Price was fourteen.”

“These them?” Cole nodded to the slots.

“No. Same model. Yours are in a storage locker couple blocks from here.
We work a deal, I turn the keys to the locker over to you. You load up on your
own time, at your own risk.”

“Yeah, well, we need to see what we’re getting. Then we’ll decide
whether they’re worth twelve or fourteen.”

Caesar didn’t like it, but he nodded. He turned and signaled to another
man. “Jose. You’re with me.” Then he led Cole and Crash back outside. He took
in the other three guys and turned back to Cole. “They stay here.”

Cole nodded.

Caesar and Jose headed to a van and climbed in.

Cole turned to Wolf. “Get a hold of Mack. Find out where Cajun is with
that truck.”

“Yeah, boss,” Wolf replied.

Crash walked over to Shannon and cupped her jaw, his fingers sliding
behind her ear. “Be right back, Princess.”

She looked up at him with worry in her eyes, but she nodded, saying
nothing. He pulled her face up for a quick kiss, and then he climbed on his
bike. Cole and Crash pulled out, following the van down the street.

Shannon waited with Red Dog, Green and Wolf, who was on the phone with
someone about that truck Cole had mentioned. “I don’t care if your GPS is
fucked up. You got the address, use some initiative and just find it!” He hung
up, cursing. “Stupid son-of-a-bitch!”

Red Dog looked over at Shannon. “You doin’ okay, honey?”

“Yes, fine. I just don’t like standing around here.”

“No, that ain’t it. You just don’t like being away from your man.”

“My man?”

“Don’t even try that coy shit with me. Everybody in the club knows what
went down at the fights the other night.”

She blushed and kicked at a stone, her hands in her back pockets. “I
suppose they do.”

“Ain’t nothing to be shy about, darlin’.”

She looked up at him from under a lock of hair. “Thank you for that
night, by the way.”

“For what?”

She shrugged. “You were really sweet to me.”

“Sweet? I ain’t sweet.”

“Yes, you are. You act all gruff, but you’re really a sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well, you know, don’t spread it around,” he grumbled.

She grinned. “I’ll keep your secret.”

About twenty minutes later, Red Dog’s cell rang. He pulled it out and
put it to his ear. “Yo.”

After a short conversation he held his phone out to Shannon. She looked
at it, and then him. “What?”

“Your man.”

She took the phone from him and put it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Babe. You’re on the back of Dog’s bike. He’s gonna bring you to me. You
good with that?” Shannon’s eyes went to Red Dog, who was standing with his arms
crossed, his eyes on her.

She nodded, “Okay.”

“All right. See you in a minute. Put Dog back on.”

She held the phone out to him. “He wants to talk to you.”

He took it and put it to his ear. “Yeah?” After a short conversation, he
disconnected. “Mount up.”

Green and Wolf moved to their bikes, and Shannon followed Red Dog to
his. She waited while he threw his leg over and lifted the bike off its
kickstand. Then he fired it up and turned to her. “Climb on.”

Shannon settled behind him and put her hands on his hips. They pulled
out and headed down the street. They made a couple of rights and lefts, Red Dog
leading the way. They crossed under the interstate, and Shannon noticed a
mortuary on the right. They came to a light and made a left. They passed two
run-down motels on the left and a package store. Red Dog signaled and slowed up
for traffic waiting to make another left in the middle of the four-lane highway.
Shannon looked at the street sign of the side street they were waiting to turn
onto. It read Cemetery Road. She started to get a little nervous. Where the
hell were they going?

The three bikes made the turn. The side street ran along the back of one
of the run down motels on their left and a large fenced-in dirt lot that had
some dump trucks parked in it on the right. They passed the back of the motel
and came to what appeared to be a back entrance to a mini-storage unit
facility. Cole was standing at the gate and opened it for them. They rolled
through, and three units down on the right were Cole and Crash’s parked bikes,
Crash standing next to them. Red Dog stopped, and Shannon got off. Crash walked
over to her, taking her hand and pulling her to the side. The three men
dismounted.

Cole asked Wolf, “You get ahold of Cajun?”

“They’re about an hour out.”

Cole nodded.

“I’m gonna take Shannon and get out of here. Go get us a room,” Crash
said, looking at Cole.

Cole nodded. “All right.”

Red Dog asked Cole, “We driving back to San Jose today, cause brother, I
gotta tell ya, I’m beat. I’m not sure I’ll make it back without fallin’
asleep.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Cole agreed. “He looked over at Crash. Not sure I’m
feeling good about you splitting off again. Not with DKs in the area.”

Crash nodded. “All right.”

Cole took a hit off his cigarette and glanced toward the gate and back.
“Tell you what, get a room somewhere, and call and let me know where. We’ll all
get a room, stay over, get some shut-eye and hit the road in the morning. Sound
good?” He looked at Crash and the rest.