Red Dog: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 6)

RED DOG

An Evil Dead MC Novella

By

Nicole James

RED DOG

An Evil Dead MC Novella

By

Nicole James

Published by Nicole James

Copyright 2016 Nicole James

All Right Reserved

Cover Art by Viola Estrella

CHAPTER ONE

Just across the Northern California border into Oregon—

Four motorcycles sat parked in the gravel, their chrome gleaming in the moonlight. They belonged to members of the Evil Dead MC’s San Jose Chapter.

“You sure this is the spot?” Green asked, eyeing the wooded area around them. “We’re in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere.”

Cole lit up his second cigarette since they’d shut off their bikes. He blew the smoke in the air and responded. “Yup. First gravel road off Hwy 99.”

Red Dog stood with his hands in his pockets, his gaze on the night sky. “Sure are a fuck-of-a-lot of stars out here.”

Only the chirping of crickets, and the sound of an occasional big rig traveling down Interstate 5 in the distance broke the silence.

“It’s fucking quiet out here, isn’t it?” Wolf noted, taking in a deep breath of fresh night air scented with the smell of pine.

“Too quiet. Where the fuck are they?” Green snapped.

“They’ll be here. Chill out, man.” Cole took another drag off his smoke, the glowing tip flaring in the dark.

“Thought you said midnight. It’s half past. They’re late.”

“What the fuck are you so jumpy for, Green?” Dog asked. Noting the man’s fidgeting, he teased, “You scared of the dark?”

“Fuck off. Just don’t like this whole setup. Feels like we’re sitting ducks. What the hell was wrong with the old meeting place?”

“Gotta change it up, Green. You know that,” Cole replied.

“Yeah, well, who the fuck picked this place?” Green slapped at a mosquito.

Wolf teased him, “You just don’t like bugs.”

“Fuck no, do you?” he growled, swatting at another. “This place is full of ‘em.”

The distant unmistakable sound of short drag pipes on a Harley echoed through the night.

Cole, who was slouched sideways on his bike, one boot on the ground, one on the foot peg, stood. He took a final drag and dropped his cigarette, grinding it under his boot. “Show time, boys.”

All eyes turned down the gravel road they’d ridden up. The sound grew closer and louder until three headlights rounded the bend, illuminating the dust still hanging in the air in an eerie way.

The bikes stopped, the engines shut off and the headlights extinguished as the new arrivals dismounted. The Oregon Chapter had arrived. The men embraced.

“Sorry, we’re late,” the one slapping Cole on the back said as he pulled back from the San Jose VP. “Had a tail we had to lose.”

“Feds?”

“ATF.”

Cole frowned at his Oregon counterpart. “You sure you lost ‘em, Weez?”

The man nodded. “Yeah. Doubled back twice. Lost ‘em in Medford.”

Cole nodded. “Good.” He lifted his chin. “You get everything we need?”

“Inside the saddlebags. Sixty and hundred-round magazines.”

“How many?”

“Many as we could carry.” Weez grinned. “You got your quota of ammo for the month covered. Don’t worry.”

“Thank God for Oregon.” Cole grinned back.

“Yeah, the California ban on high capacity magazines must suck for you guys.”

“Well, thanks to our Oregon brothers, we get around it, don’t we?”

The men chuckled. Cole nodded for his boys to begin the transfer. Five minutes later, the men were slapping each other on the back in farewell. The San Jose Chapter watched as the three bikes rolled out, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

They were about to load up, when Red Dog’s phone went off. He pulled it from his pocket and frowned down at the display.

“Who is it?” Cole asked, noting Dog’s expression.

“Shane,” he replied, answering the call and putting it on speaker. “Yeah,” he barked in greeting.

“Your ol’ lady is up at Club XS.”

Dog frowned, sure he’d heard incorrectly. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me. She’s dressed for pickin’ up men and one more drink, she’ll be dancin’ on a fuckin’ table. What do you want me to do?”

Jealousy surged through Red Dog’s body like a jolt of electricity, and his jaw clenched as he grit his teeth. “She with someone?”

“I think she’s out with some chicks. Ones I’ve never seen before. If you’re asking if there’s a guy, don’t see one. But that won’t last long. She’s definitely attracting attention.”

Dog growled into the phone, “Get her the hell out of there and take her back home.”

“You do realize that requires me puttin’ her on the back of my bike, right?”

“Yeah, I know that. You fuckin’ touch her, you’re dead.”

“Brother, I may have to carry her out of here, that’s gonna require some touchin’.” Dog could hear the grin in Shane’s voice. The motherfucker was enjoying this. So were his brothers, judging by the snickering they emitted along with shoulders shaking.

“Just fuckin’ get her home.” Dog disconnected the call, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“Trouble in paradise?” Cole asked with a grin.

Green guffawed at that. “Paradise? Only paradise Dog’s ever gonna see is the Paradise Motel, and there ain’t gonna be no seventy-two virgins waitin’ for him either.”

The guys chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up, Green,” Red Dog snapped. “Like you’d know a virgin if she sat on your face.”

“I had me one, once,” Green insisted, feeling the need to set the record straight. “Wasn’t all its cracked up to be.”

“I’m sure she felt the same way about you, Green,” Wolf teased.

Cole looked over at Red Dog in all seriousness. “You do something to piss off your ol’ lady?”

“Fuck if I know. I’m sure she’ll goddamn tell me when I get home.”

Wolf chuckled. “Maybe we should stop off and get you a mouth-guard. Wouldn’t want her to mess up all that dental work again.”

Dog made to lunge at Wolf, but Cole pushed him back with a fist to his chest, laughing. “Let it go, Dog. He won’t stop ‘till you do.”

“He’ll stop quick enough with my fist in his mouth.”

“Gotta catch me first, bro.” Wolf made a kissy face at Dog as he fired his bike up and tore off down the road.

“Let’s roll,” Cole ordered and they mounted up and followed the trail of dust Wolf left in his wake.

CHAPTER TWO

Shane stood outside the bar, the neon reflecting on his blond hair. He squinted into the distance, taking in the lights of the strip, his phone to his ear. His boots crunched on the gravel as he paced next to his bike, Red Dog’s last words coming through loud and clear from 300 miles away.

Jamming his phone back in his hip pocket, he headed back inside the nightclub and made his way through the crowd, cutting a path to where Mary sat at the bar. She hadn’t spotted him earlier, so he could only imagine what her reaction would be when her eyes landed on his Evil Dead cut.

He pushed between her barstool and the guy next to her. Her attention was turned to the girlfriend sitting on her other side—one Shane was pretty sure she’d probably come with—so she didn’t see him approach.

Mary was a petite Asian beauty with porcelain skin and dark glossy hair that hung to her waist. It was currently pulled to the side, revealing her low-back dress.

“You lookin’ for a date, sugar?” he growled low in her ear. That pretty back went ramrod straight as she perhaps recognized his voice. Twisting with the cocktail in her hand, her red nails flashing against the sparkle of the delicate martini glass, her almond shaped eyes hit his leather vest first and then got huge as they made their way up to his face. Her lips parted with a holy-crap expression.

“Hey, Mary.” He grinned back at her, a cat-that-caught-the-canary look on his own face.

“Shane,” she whispered. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes moved past him, searching the crowd for more Evil Dead members. Finding none, her eyes returned to him, and her body relaxed.

“Seems I could ask you the same question.”

“I’m having a drink. Is that against the law?”

“Not exactly. But how do you think Dog’s gonna react when he comes home and finds you gone?”

“I really don’t care.”

“You don’t care?” He smiled and shook his head, knowing she was well aware of how the MC worked. Ol’ ladies did not just take off to go drinking fifty miles from home, especially not without their ol’ man’s knowledge. “You ever done this before?”

“Nope.”

“What made you do it this time?”

“Something had to snap. I guess it was me.”

“Seriously, Mary, tell me.”

“I guess I just had enough, Shane. You know everyone reaches that last straw—the one that breaks the camel’s back.” She shrugged.

“And what was that straw?”

“Look, I know you’re club brothers and all, but it’s really none of your business.”

“Nope, you’re right. It’s not. What
is
my business is having my brother’s back.” That got her attention and changed her nonchalant attitude in a heartbeat.

“Please don’t call Red Dog,” she pleaded, a thread of panic in her voice.

“Sorry, babe, call’s already been made.”

Her eyes flashed to the door as if she half expected the club to bust through at any second. “Is he on his way?”

“He’s at the Oregon border on club business. Take him probably six hours to get back.”

Her delicate chin came up, her long sleek hair falling over one shoulder. “Good. Go about your business then. You ratted me out; your brotherly duty is fulfilled.”

“Don’t work that way, babe. I got a responsibility to look out for my brother’s ol’ lady. Dog wants you home, that’s where I’m takin’ you, sweetheart.”

He watched one delicately sculpted brow arch. “I’m not going home, Shane.”

A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. She was cute if she thought she could stop him. He took the drink out of her hand and set it on the bar. “Mary, don’t make this difficult. You know I’m takin’ you outta here, even if its gotta be over my shoulder. And I’d rather not haul you through this crowd with your ass in the air, but you know I’ll do it.”

Their eyes locked, and he could see the realization form on her face as she grasped the truth of his words.

“I think you heard the lady. She doesn’t want to leave with you.”

Shane’s head turned, his eyes narrowing on the man behind him. He had an over-the-top spray-tan that looked a sickly orange in the bar light. “Stay outta this, buddy. Only warning you’re gonna get.”

Mary slid off her stool, grabbing Shane’s arm as her eyes connected with the man. “It’s fine. I’ll go with him.”

Shane made to pull free of her grasp, but she squeezed her hand, drawing his attention from the man.

“Don’t start trouble. Please.” Shane’s eyes met her pleading look. He nodded.

“All right. Then let’s go.”

Unfortunately, Spray-tan Dan had shit for brains. He grabbed Mary’s arm. A mistake he’d live to regret.

“The lady is staying here.”

Shane decked him with one powerful punch to the jaw that sent the man sprawling to the floor, and then he moved to stand over his prone body. “You don’t ever touch an Evil Dead ol’ lady. Got that, motherfucker?”

Not waiting for an answer, Shane clamped his hand around Mary’s upper arm and pulled her through the crowd and out the bar. His bike was parked up front, so they didn’t have far to go. He released her, spinning toward her. “What the fuck, Mary? What the hell are you doing here?”

“What do you care?”

“Dog cares. Therefore, I care.”

“To hell with Dog. And to hell with you, too.”

“Christ, Mary, cut me some slack. I don’t like being in this situation anymore than you do. But here we are.” They stared each other down. Seeing he was going to get nowhere with her, he swung his leg over the bike and fired it up. Handing her his helmet, he ordered, “Climb on. Now.”

She was fuming, but she took the helmet from him and complied, her short dress hiking up her thighs. When he felt her arms wrap around him, he gunned the throttle and roared out of the parking lot, cursing himself for picking the wrong bar to stop for a drink.