Misrule

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Misrule Page 5

by Kelly, Kathryn C.


  Knox covered his face and groaned.

  Chapter Five

  As if the years fell away, Emily Riser watched as Kendall Miller glided toward the table she sat at. Emily couldn’t have been more shocked when she’d received a call from the redhead. They’d never been friends. Emily had never wanted to be Kendall’s friend, but she hadn’t been able to resist accepting the dinner invitation to see what the stupid, overgrown cow wanted.

  “Emily?” Kendall greeted tentatively as she stopped at the table.

  Emily pasted a smile on her face. “Kendall, darling, it’s positively lovely to see you,” she lied, standing and air kissing each of Kendall’s cheeks.

  They slid into their respective booths and grinned at each other. Emily hated Kendall’s expressive brown eyes and flaming red hair. She hated the creamy skin, fine features, and long legs that every boy in school had found so fascinating. Kendall had gone from being a bullied outcast to a whore for any man she met. Yet, here she was, in spite of everything, still smiling, still gorgeous.

  Still her…?

  “I heard about your mother.” Compassion oozed from Emily’s voice. “You have my deepest sympathy.”

  Kendall nodded. “Thank you.”

  Was that a tentative note in the redhead’s voice? Did Emily, by any chance, still intimidate her? Maybe, she remained that insecure little girl who Emily had shut out.

  “Oh, I’m so glad to see you! You’ve grown from an ugly duckling to a gorgeous swan, Ms. Miller.”

  “Not Miller. Donovan,” Kendall stated with surprising coolness. “I’ve been married for a number of years. I have three children.” She smiled. “Poor you, still haven’t found Mr. Right. Oh, Em!”

  Bitch!

  Emily cleared her throat, surprised at Kendall’s comeback. “I…well, yes, I have a magnificent life, darling,” she lied. “I wouldn’t want a husband and kids tying me down.” That was true, but she was stuck in a menial job, with no hope of getting her life back on track. She’d had a terrible cocaine addiction and lost everything, even her family, because of it.

  “Who is the lucky guy?”

  “John Donovan. Vice-president of the Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club and CEO of Wellchris Enterprises, the parent company of the Wellchris Medical Labs.”

  Hadn’t she read something about Wellchris in the newspaper a few months ago? And hadn’t she seen news stories, good and bad, about the Death Dwellers? She’d Google both later. Right now, she acted duly impressed.

  “Wow! You moved up in the world. What a lucky woman. Congratulations.”

  “You’re too kind,” Kendall responded with a genuine smile that Emily intended to eat up and spit out.

  To save her marriage, Kendall had decided she needed to face all her fears and dislikes. Her greatest of both was Meggie. Partly because Johnnie was such an idiot, but mostly because of the woman sitting across from her.

  Emily was slightly taller than Meggie. Shocking, Kendall knew; Mortician didn’t call her Smurfette without cause.

  Kendall wrinkled her nose, cataloging how much bustier and curvier she was than Meggie. Emily’s face, though…her face was almost the spitting image of Meggie. Yet, Meggie’s blue eyes were kinder, warmer. Her skin smoother, creamier, silkier than both Kendall’s and Emily’s, which was galling, but whatever. The words Meggie spoke, she meant. She didn’t patronize anyone in the hopes of walking over them.

  As if.

  Kendall had called Emily with an open heart and an open mind. She’d wanted bygones to be bygones. She wanted her demons put to rest. In order to do that, she needed to confront her nemesis once more. To see that Emily was nothing special, after all. She’d been easy to find. A couple of calls to mutual school acquaintances with whom Kendall had seen from time-to-time over the years, and she’d gotten Emily’s phone number.

  It had been a long twenty-four hours. First, the big Valentine’s Day party, then Knox’s proposal, then the argument—Knox was the biggest asshole on earth, even bigger than Emily.

  Kendall didn’t have the time or the inclination to allow Emily to think she’d still suffer her bullshit.

  Kendall drummed her fingers on the table. “Emily, darling, it’s been so good to see you. I’ve had a long day, so I don’t find the need to draw this out. When I was a young girl, I only ever wanted to be your friend. You taunted and ridiculed me. For years, I suffered image problems because of you. But I look at you now and see absolutely fucking nothing. Just a cunt who was jealous of me and my beauty…” Maybe, that was stretching it, since Emily was so gorgeous in her own right, but Kendall wouldn’t back down., even as the other woman’s face reddened and her mouth fell open.

  “You’re the dirt beneath my feet, cow,” Emily spat, recovering fast.

  “And you’re the fucking dirt that I walk on, bitch,” Kendall shot back. “I came here with good intentions, but fuck that. Fuck you. Fuck off.” Grabbing her purse, she glared at Emily, slid out of her booth, and stalked away.

  Two hours later, Kendall leaned against her headboard, sniffling. She pulled another tissue from the box and dabbed at her eyes and nose. She was watching Two Women, an old movie starring Sophia Loren. Her character had been close to her daughter until tragedy struck and changed them for the rest of their lives.

  Just like all the different tragedies she and Johnnie had shared, most of which she caused.

  Unable to watch anymore of the movie, Kendall flicked off the TV. Sad movies served as a catharsis lately. That, along with a different medicine, extensive therapy, and self-help books was easing Kendall’s way.

  The combination of these things had inspired her to confront her arch-nemesis, Emily. Bitch!

  Kendall should’ve slapped the fuck out of her. Emily deserved it, but she’d missed her chance so she’d let it go. Emily was out of her life for good now, therefore she’d lay that ghost to rest.

  She had more important things to think about. Such as, she was actually a practicing attorney again! At first, she’d been so shocked that Outlaw relented, she’d meekly—and graciously—accepted all that he’d offered.

  Then, she’d thought about it and realized the barbarian had probably been so overcome with guilt over shooting Johnnie, he was using her to atone for all of his sins.

  If it got her practicing law again, so be it. Everyone thought she’d enjoy her life so much as a lawyer that she’d decide she didn’t want to be married. But she loved Johnnie and she loved her kids. She just needed to work on being a mother and a wife, and figure out how to process her love. If she still had her family—her friend, Meggie—her life would be perfect.

  Well, if she could survive without medication, her life would be perfect. She hated depending on pills to shape her personality. She lost the real her in dosages and side effects. Was she the calm woman who the medicine brought out? Or the hell-on-wheels she was known to be?

  She liked her edginess. She liked not knowing what her next adventure would be. And she loved making everyone prove to her that they’d love and accept her no matter what she did. Just as they’d all promised.

  Johnnie’s everlasting patience and unconditional love had given her the courage to contact Emily. Yes, therapy and medicine had aided the decision. But it was thoughts of Johnnie who sealed it. It was his strength that had boosted her own. Without him, she felt so lost.

  However…and it was a big however…being Johnnie’s wife meant having to deal with a few unsavory people, including that brat, CJ. Outlaw and Meggie had to know how out of hand he was. CJ needed a firm hand and manners beat into him. That thought didn’t make her unmotherly. It made her a disciplinarian. Period.

  Marie, Kendall’s mother, had taken that approach and Kendall was the woman she was today because of Marie’s discipline.

  Until she got her husband and children back, though, she wouldn’t concern herself with CJ Caldwell. He was little more than a speck of dirt in her pristine life.

  She had to tow the line. Behave. She wanted to be in he
r home, in her bed with her husband, so she’d do everything in her power to better herself and get her family back.

  Chapter Six

  Stuffing her change away and then dropping the wallet into her purse, Meggie pushed the grocery cart out of the safety of the store and rolled it into the shadows. She’d parked as close as possible to the entrance, so she didn’t have far to walk, but she had to make herself move every time she went through this routine.

  This morning, she had the same nausea to deal with that had come upon her last night at their family dinner at Bunny and Digger’s house. It could’ve been something she ate, but Meggie knew her terror contributed to her upset stomach.

  The guards Christopher wanted her to have was the easiest solution. She thought of the four, older men. Well, they were kind of the easiest solution. Even without experiencing their rude grumpiness from time-to-time, she didn’t want to go back to the way things had been before her kidnapping.

  She liked the point in her life that she’d gotten to. Having alone time. She’d liked the trust Christopher had placed in her and her ability to look out for herself.

  As long as she was at ease, he was at ease. He could effectively be Outlaw and Christopher. One of her jobs as his wife was to make sure nothing interfered with his life to upend the balance he’d created. He led two separate lives because of her, so she was determined to do her part and stand by his side in whatever way he needed her.

  Her life was full but hectic. Besides her home healthcare business she had with Zoann, she had her husband to care for and their five children. CJ was the equivalent of four kids. He was so lively and inquisitive—some would say bratty. But he was her first child, whom she’d given birth to months before her nineteenth birthday. Essentially, they’d grown up together. He’d turned into an active little boy with a will as strong as his daddy’s and she’d come into her own as a wife, a mother, and a woman.

  Then, of course, there was the club. She still cooked for the members at least twice a week. She didn’t serve them as much as she once had. Sometimes, she even cooked meals in her own kitchen and had one of the brothers pick it up and bring it to the club. But the Death Dwellers were her family, too. She made it a point to go to the clubhouse once a week, to mingle with the old ladies and the brothers, too. Although she wasn’t supposed to interfere, there were times when she had to put in a word or two—drop a hint or two—to Christopher on one of the guys’ behalf.

  Then, there was Diesel, preparing for graduation and scouting colleges. He’d very likely win a football scholarship. However, he had his heart set on joining the club. The only way Christopher would allow it was if he got some type of degree. At times, Diesel had struggled in school and with his parents’ abandonment. He’d needed attention but a different type from her younger kids.

  She couldn’t forget their ever-growing family, and their weekly get-togethers. Now, she also had Johnnie and Kendall’s children in residence. She really didn’t mind it. Rory spent more time with CJ than any of his other cousins, so having him, his sister, and brother stay with them while their parents worked on themselves was a logical choice.

  Given everything, Meggie relished alone time to slow her pace.

  Without her escorts, though, she was terrified of being taken again. Usually, she cowered in the shadows for twenty or thirty minutes until she worked up the courage to get to her car. It wasn’t normal. She knew that. Yet, she’d deal with it and overcome her fear in time. She had to. For her sake and Christopher’s sake.

  He couldn’t be distracted from club business. Enemies popped up from everywhere and she couldn’t have him preoccupied by having every little move she made reported to him.

  Anxiety was getting the best of him anyway. Worse, he was exhausting himself with his nightmares. Admitting any trauma would affect him doubly.

  Now, Meggie needed to harden herself more so for Roxy and Bailey, and their upcoming wedding ceremony. She didn’t want the drama in her household to affect their special day. She’d do whatever needed doing to ease her husband’s fears and to keep the peace amongst everyone on Roxy and Bailey’s behalf.

  The sound of Harley pipes reached her and she shrank back, tightening her grip on the cart. Bile rose to her throat.

  Usually, she spent her time in the shadows talking herself into going to her car. Today, her worry for her husband distracted her. Either way, she never really paid attention to the people around her. She thought it was better that way. If she saw anyone who reminded her of the men who’d taken her, fear would paralyze her.

  The noise grew louder and the bike drew closer. Meggie’s stomach heaved but no vomit came up.

  Her kidnapping ordeal had begun with the innocent sound of motorcycles.

  Drawing in deep drafts of air, she told herself one day she’d feel normal again. She’d feel confident to take her kids out again. To her relief, Christopher had yet to note that she didn’t go anywhere alone with their kids anymore.

  CJ had been in the car when she’d been taken. She’d been so frightened they’d harm him.

  A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped. Her heart accelerated. Her stomach lurched.

  “It’s me, baby,” Christopher said. “I was callin’ your name but your mind was wanderin’.”

  She released a nervous chuckle. “I’m fine,” she claimed in a high voice, feeling anything but fine. “I was just going to the car.”

  He stared at her, then glanced at her car. Folding his arms, he met her gaze, and she flushed at his knowing look.

  “So, um, I’ll see you at home.”

  Sighing, Christopher pulled her into his arms before she could guide the cart away, and kissed the top of her head. “Why you so fuckin’ stubborn?”

  She buried her face against the leather of his cut, then shook her head. “I’m not,” she insisted in a muffled voice. She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him. He was warm and there, a towering, muscular wall of protection that she adored.

  “I have to do this,” she whispered, wondering why she still felt so sick. “We have to do this.” Instead of keeping her reasons to herself, she explained them to Christopher.

  “You can have me-fuckin-time in the bathroom while you takin’ a shit. I don’t come in then. Pissing, yeah.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I’m still doing something, Christopher.”

  “Well, fuck, baby, ain’t you doin’ something when you shoppin’? Just change the shoppin’ to shittin’, then we all happy.”

  “It isn’t the same,” she insisted, suddenly feeling more than a little selfish.

  “You say you ain’t wantin’ your fear to affect my ass. I’m still fuckin’ worried, so stop soundin’ fuckin’ ignorant. You out here, alone, scared like a motherfucker, and I’m supposed to fuckin’ concentrate?”

  “I shouldn’t have told you,” she said on a groan. “Some things are better left unspoken.”

  “Since fuckin’ when?”

  She shrugged.

  “You ain’t even takin’ our lil’ motherfuckers nowhere by yourself.”

  She gave him a sullen stare, and he grinned. He had one of the most beautiful smiles in the world. Seeing it always left her weak in the knees. His grinned deepened and he winked at her. He knew her so well.

  Tipping her chin up, he stared into her eyes, his green gaze filled with concern.

  “I have to do this,” she whispered. “You trusted me to look after myself.”

  “Megan, you got my heart, my soul, my trust. You got my every-fuckin-thing,” he said gruffly. “But there some things you need my ass to hold you up for you to get through. This one of them. It ain’t meanin’ you weak. It just mean you human. You was kept in a fuckin’ hole, naked and starvin’, so—”

  “You were taken twice,” she reminded him. “Both times, I thought I’d lost you.”

  “Baby, the only thing get my ass and make me cry like a pussy is bein’ buried the fuck alive. If I ain’t had to re
scue you when Snake did that shit to me, I’da just been fucked. But you, you, gave me the fuckin’ will to get the fuck outta there. You give me strength.”

  “And you give me wings to fly, Christopher, so let me fly this time.”

  He grabbed her face between his hands and leaned down to kiss her. “Megan, baby, you one stubborn lil’ motherfucker. Why the fuck can’t you just do this shit my way?”

  “Because showing myself, showing you, that I can stand on my own two feet, is important to me.”

  “Your safety important to me. I ain’t only worried about you bein’ taken a-fuckin-gain. My ass worry that you gonna start cuttin’ a-fuckin-gain.” His look turned pained. “Tell me you ain’t thought about that shit once or fuckin’ twice?”

  “Maybe,” she mumbled. “But not all the time. The idea comes and go, especially after my nightmares.”

  “So eatin’ your pussy after you have them ain’t keepin’ you relaxed?”

  “Is my sucking your cock after your nightmares keeping you relaxed?” she sniffed.

  He scowled at her. “You got my ass, baby,” he admitted grudgingly. “Maybe this gonna help. The only fuckin’ thing I ain’t trustin’ you with is Kendall. You for-fuckin-give that bitch every-fuckin-thing she do. So since I think you stupid and fucked outta your head about her, I ain’t trustin’ you to handle her ass right. Look what the fuck you made me do, when I wanted to ball her fuckin’ hands to fists, cleave them motherfuckers in two, them chop the pieces the fuck off.”

  “Forgiven and forgotten,” she lied. “Why are we still on this subject? She came to the ball. CJ interacted with her. There wasn’t a problem.”

  “Cuz Knox told my ass I was Kendall fuckin’ Santa. Chafed my fuckin’ nuts. I ain’t gonna forget.”

  Meggie wouldn’t, either. Every time Christopher brought up Kendall’s run-in with CJ a few weeks ago, Meggie adopted placid serenity. Once again, if Christopher knew how hearing about Kendall almost punching CJ infuriated Meggie, he’d kill Kendall.

 

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