Misrule

by Kelly, Kathryn C.

  Bailey grabbed Roxy’s hand and squeezed. Smiling, Roxy nodded to her daughter, telling her without words, that she was fine.

  Satisfied, Bailey looked at Johnnie. “Will you give me away?”

  “What about me?” Digger called. “I’m not bride-giveaway material. Or Val?”

  “Don’t put me in that shit, Digger,” Val warned. “I’m not interested in playing that role.”

  “Well, I am,” Digger responded.

  “You my best man, fool,” Mortician told him.

  Digger grinned. “I can handle that.”

  “May I answer Bailey now?” Johnnie asked, glancing around the room. His plastic surgery had left very little evidence that Outlaw had shot him in the cheek. “I would love to give you away, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you, Johnnie,” Bailey said. “I really appreciate it.”

  “Since we like fathers of the fuckin’ brides, that mean we gotta pay, right?” Outlaw asked.

  Johnnie shrugged. “I guess so. This will give us a lot of practice for when Matilda and Rebel are married.”

  “Rebel ain’t gettin’ married. At least ‘til she about forty,” Outlaw announced.

  Meggie rolled her eyes. Obviously, they’d had the discussion before. They talked about everything…unlike Johnnie and Kendall.

  That reminded Roxy.

  “I’m putting this shit on blast right now,” she said. “Kendall will be part of the ceremony.”

  No one said anything, but Outlaw’s face darkened.

  Looking for support, Roxy glanced at Meggie. The girl was sharp because she gave Roxy the slightest nod.

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea to include her,” Meggie threw out. “She’s still Johnnie’s wife. Still a part of the family.”

  When no one responded to Meggie, Zoann looked between Roxy and Bailey. “What are the wedding colors?”

  “We still deciding on the colors,” Roxy said.

  Bailey nodded. “I want gold and white.”

  “I look too washed out in gold, sugar,” Roxy protested. “That’s why I want scarlet and white.”

  “Why not both?” Bunny asked. “It could be a very elegant, very regal wedding with the right shades of silver and gold.”

  That was an idea. The bridesmaids could alternate in each color in the lineup, as long as the dress styles were the same or similar. It could work.

  “We’re talking to Father Wilkins soon,” Bailey said, almost unable to contain her excitement. “We want the ceremony at the church.”

  “Fuck me. Not only do I gotta wear a fuckin’ monkey suit, I gotta deal with that lil’ fat motherfucker?” Outlaw asked in outrage. “What the fuck I ever do to you and your Ma, Bailey? Why you puttin’ me through that fuckin’ torture?”

  “If there are too many pitfalls for you to handle, we’d understand if you backed out,” Knox said casually.

  Roxy frowned at Knox.

  “A-fuckin-gain, Knox, I ain’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you,” Outlaw gritted.

  Knox glared at Outlaw, so Roxy decided to intervene.

  “Girls, we all need to meet,” she said. “Come up with menus. Set a budget. Look at dress styles.”

  “It’s your wedding, sweetheart,” Knox said. “You and Bailey don’t need their input for your big day.”

  “Yes, we do,” Roxy answered. “Me and Bailey already talked about it. It’s going to be a big ceremony. We need help.”

  “Hire a wedding planner,” he said flatly.

  “We don’t want a wedding planner, Knox.” Bailey gave Roxy an uneasy look. “We want a planning committee with the family.”

  “Yeah, Knox,” Roxy said in warning. She didn’t like that it sounded as if he was looking for ways to shut everybody out. “A wedding planner would be a waste of time.”

  “We also need to plan a bachelorette party,” Zoann chuckled.

  “Oh, yeah,” Bailey agreed happily. “Meggie has to plan it.”

  Roxy had heard all about the bachelorette party Meggie had planned for Bunny. Strippers and stripper poles and alcohol. Oh, yeah, Meggie could definitely plan the party.

  “I’ll be happy to,” Meggie said with a smile.

  “That mean you and Mortician get to have a bachelor party, Knox,” Val declared.

  “Sounds like a plan to me.” Digger grabbed his beer bottle and swigged from it, then pounded on his chest and belched. “Don’t worry, ladies, we not having too many strippers.”

  “Neither will we,” Meggie retorted, earning a scowl from Outlaw.

  “We not havin’ no fuckin’ naked bitches at the bachelor party, Megan, so you ain’t havin’ no naked motherfuckers at Roxy party.”

  Meggie gave her husband a serene smile.

  In six months, all this planning would become a reality. There’d be parties and rehearsals and joy. Roxy’s thoughts slammed to a halt. There’d also be the club and business and whatever came up. Bloodshed and biker wars…

  Roxy wanted to curtail an unforeseen event that would ruin the big day. “I have one final request.”

  Outlaw twisted his fingers through Meggie’s hair. “What’s that?” he asked, not looking in Roxy’s direction.

  They couldn’t completely stop club business. “The two weeks before the wedding, there’s no…no…” How could she put it?

  “Fuckin’ ups?” Outlaw supplied.

  “You mean fuck-ups,” Johnnie corrected.

  “Nope. I mean fuckin’ ups. She ain’t wantin’ bloodshed durin’ that time, assfuck.”

  “Is that what you mean?” Johnnie demanded.

  Roxy nodded.

  “You got it, babe,” Outlaw said. “What the fuck ever need seein’ to, Ima make sure to have wrapped the fuck up by then.”

  “Thank you,” Roxy said with a relieved smile.

  “Oh, and don’t fuckin’ worry about a budget. Me and Johnnie meant what we said. Whatever the fuck you and Bailey want, we gonna get.”

  “No way!” Knox protested. “Roxy’s my woman. I’ll pay for her. Let Mortician pay for Bailey’s portion if he can afford it.”

  “How you going to speak out of my fucking pocket, son?” Mortician snapped.

  Digger hooted with laughter. “Knox, don’t you know this motherfucker so tight, he got spiderwebs wrapped around his money?”

  “I’m not tight with Bailey!” Mortician countered.

  “No, Lucas is very generous with me,” Bailey agreed.

  “Yeah, fool. My woman got her own bank account and everything.”

  “I did the same thing for Bunny,” Digger told him. “And I didn’t almost lose her cuz I didn’t want to cough up bet money.”

  “Shut up, Digger,” Bailey ordered, sitting up and grabbing Mortician’s shoulder. “Don’t annoy my husband for your amusement.”

  Mortician threw Digger the evil eye. “He an asshole like that, pretty girl.”

  “All this shit started because Outlaw and Johnnie offered to pay,” Roxy began. “There’s no need. I can pay for the ceremony my own damn self.”

  Knox lifted his brow. “Is that so?”

  Fuck. Her momma told her men liked being the protector and the provider. Shit, Roxy knew that, but Knox had been spoiling for an argument with the guys all evening. He had a burr in his dick, that he refused to ignore.

  “Our wedding will be a society wedding,” Knox said. “Mother will invite all her friends and their families. My father will invite his business associates and their families. It’s going to take deep pockets to host the grand wedding I want us to have, Roxanne.”

  She didn’t like the censure in Knox’s voice. More to the point, she didn’t like how his cool words made her feel so inadequate.

  Roxy shifted in her seat, swallowed, exchanged a glance with Bailey. “I don’t want a grand wedding, Knox. Big, yes, but with my own special touch. A day we all can enjoy.”

  “Since you insist on having a planning committee with family, I want my mother included,” Knox supplied.

  Roxy and Knox
’s mother had come a long way, since that first disastrous meeting, so she didn’t see a problem with that. “Of course. I’d love to have her help.”

  “Her help means expenses you can’t even dream of. Deep pockets. Harrington money.”

  The room at large looked in her direction, as if they were at a tennis match, and waited for her serve.

  “I can pay for my own fucking wedding,” Roxy insisted.

  “How?” Knox pressed. “I’m not trying to embarrass you. I just want you to know that my money is your money, and you’re free to start using it, even before we’re married. You don’t have to take whatever you’ve saved up from your years of working to pay for something I can easily afford.”

  “Excuse me?” Roxy huffed.

  “Knox, you need to sit the fuck in a corner and keep a finger shoved in your fuckin’ piehole,” Outlaw snapped, getting to his feet.

  Meggie hopped to hers and dusted off her backside, smiling with unease and grabbing Outlaw’s bicep.

  Mortician stood, too.

  “Lucas?” Bailey squeaked. “Knox didn’t mean anything.”

  Yes, the motherfucker did, but if Roxy said that, Knox just might die. It was a tossup who’d take him out first. Outlaw or Mortician.

  “Roxanne got her own fucking money,” Mortician stated flatly. “Know why, motherfucker? Because I got more money than I know what the fuck to do with.”

  “Illegally obtained,” Knox cut in.

  “I got,” Mortician continued as if Knox hadn’t spoken, “so Roxanne got. Don’t think you lifting a broke ass bitch out of the mire of a fucking biker club.”

  “I didn’t mean that!” Knox declared, an angry flush suffusing his face. “You people look for reasons to fight.”

  Oh, Lawd Jesus. Knox said you people, as if he thought himself better than them.

  “Us fuckin’ people?” Outlaw echoed.

  “Goddamn it! Why is everything I say the wrong thing around here?” Knox fumed. “I meant nothing by any of what I said. All I wanted to do was reassure Roxanne. That’s it.”

  “Mort, it ain’t his fault he a stupid motherfucker that don’t know how the fuck to reassure nobody. Cuz, Knox, motherfucker, your reassurance full of fuckin’ shade and insult.”

  “Shade?” Knox repeated in confusion.

  “Sly comments,” Meggie supplied. “Giving an insult without coming right out and insulting someone.”

  Knox gave Roxy an imploring look. “Roxanne, baby, I wasn’t trying to insult you. I swear.”

  “Leave him be, Outlaw, Mortician,” Roxy said, glaring at Knox. “He’s going to learn how to reassure me about his money.”

  “Don’t give a fuck,” Outlaw announced. “Ima give your ass the fuck away, so Ima foot the bill and I ain’t givin’ a good fuck what bitch on the plannin’ committee. Deal with it, Knox. Choke on it. Die over it. Your fuckin’ choice. Me and Johnnie payin’. Case fuckin’ closed.”

  “Fine with me,” Mortician said. “My bank account like the sound of that.”

  “Cuz you still a stingy motherfucker,” Outlaw said.

  “Yep, and proud of my stingy motherfuckery,” Mortician quipped.

  The boys all laughed, breaking the tension. Roxy smiled, her heart filled with joy, hope, and dreams of her future with Knox.

  Chapter Ten

  “I’m tired, sugar,” Roxanne announced around a yawn, giving Knox a friendly pat on the knee.

  Somehow, he’d managed to insert himself next to her after settling into his usual pattern of acting as co-host for the dinner. He missed the cozy little place, just big enough for him and Roxanne to create a love nest. She’d allowed him to personalize the place to his tastes, too, so it wasn’t exclusively hers.

  The pastel colors she’d had when he’d moved in had been changed to neutral tones. The feminine décor in her bedroom had been switched to a genderless theme.

  They both had family photos out as well as pictures of their integrated families. Roxanne with Knox and his son. Knox with Roxanne and her daughters. Duke was a little asshole who refused to deal with his mother, so he wasn’t included in the display. There were photos of family gatherings and birthdays and special events.

  Yet, Knox had never felt lonelier or more abandoned. He missed her so much, but the exile Mortician imposed on him didn’t seem to phase her one damn bit.

  Knox had never been one for PDA, but he just couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. He’d stroked her hair, caressed her neck, wrapped an arm around her.

  She’d sat next to him, as if his touch meant nothing to her, only now responding—with a goddamn pat like he was a fucking dog.

  For over a week, he’d suffered through their separation. Not that time apart mattered to her.

  “Stay as long as you need to,” Roxanne continued as she stood. “Bailey, lock up once everyone leaves. I’m going to turn in for the night.”

  “Momma, are you okay?”

  “Fine, baby,” Roxanne said with reassurance. She gazed at Knox.

  He swore he saw longing and need. And love.

  “Just tired,” she said on a sigh.

  “Are you too tired to talk to me about an issue I’m having?” Zoann asked in a small voice.

  Val frowned. “Puff, what the fuck going on?” he asked gruffly. “You sick or something? Why the fuck you talking like that?”

  “Because Roxy’s tired and I don’t want to tax her,” Zoann answered. “She has a lot on her plate.”

  “I’m fine,” Roxanne said, her strong, sure voice leaving no doubt to the truth of her words. “Come on upstairs with me.”

  Bailey gave the smallest nods to Megan. If Knox hadn’t been staring at each woman, feeling as clueless as the bikers looked, he might have missed it.

  “Mortician,” Megan started. “I made a new drink for you to try. I completely forgot about it and left it at home. Would you like to come to the house and try a bit?”

  “Meggie girl, what—”

  “Lucas, I would hate for Meggie’s hard work to go unappreciated,” Bailey said quickly. “Why don’t you go and try the drink?”

  “Can I try it too?” Digger asked. “Or it’s just for Mort?”

  “No, silly,” Megan said with a beaming smile. “I’ve actually made a special snack for you.”

  Outlaw folded his arms and smirked at Megan, who quickly averted her eyes.

  “Val, Johnnie, come and try the new drink and snack, too,” she said after a moment. “Let’s leave Roxy to talk to Zoann, so she can get the rest she needs.”

  Her words seemed to amuse Outlaw all the more. Flushing, she threw him the evil eye and he winked at her.

  “Harrington, since all these motherfuckers comin’ the fuck over, bring your ass, too,” Outlaw ordered, grinning at Megan and ignoring Knox even though the invitation was for him.

  Megan glared at Outlaw, then sniffed. “Knox isn’t invited,” she said on a sullen mumble.

  “I want the motherfucker there, baby,” Outlaw said firmly.

  “If Meggie don’t want Knox there, Outlaw, you can’t force the child to welcome him,” Roxanne stated, not in the least offended that Megan had just snubbed him. She nodded to Knox. “Why don’t you go back to the clubhouse, sugar? I’ll give you a call in a bit.”

  He wouldn’t make a scene in public, so he conceded with all the graciousness of a Harrington. “Of course, sweetheart.”

  Pretending her attitude didn’t hurt, Knox departed the house and left Roxanne in the care of Bailey and Zoann. She didn’t try to stop him or kiss him or even acknowledge him.

  That cut. Each night apart from her was like a knife wound. His bed, his heart—fuck!—his soul felt empty without her. Yet, she was being Biker Mom, instead of his love.

  He didn’t say much during the walk along the path. Outlaw led the way, holding Megan’s hand, and whispering to her. Every now and then, she laughed. Digger kept an arm around Bunny’s neck as the two of them chatted with Mortician, while Val and Johnnie walked
side-by-side, in low conversation.

  Knox walked alone. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he’d take. His first marriage had broken down because of a lack of communication. He and his ex-wife had gotten to a point where all they did was go out of their way to hurt one another. It had been a shock to Knox. Everything in life had always come so easily to him. But marriage had been work. It had been compromising and adjusting to someone else’s needs and ideas.

  When they reached the gate to Outlaw and Megan’s place, the biker punched in the code. Still holding Megan’s hand, he stepped aside and allowed everyone to enter.

  Knox hovered back, waiting to hear that they’d changed their minds. That he’d be allowed to come in with them. That he was one of them, the way Roxanne always insisted.

  But, no. Outlaw slammed the gate closed.

  “Johnnie?” Knox called. “Come to the club and have a drink with me.”

  “Fuck no,” Outlaw growled. “Fuck off. Good fuckin’ night, Knox.”

  Knox waited a moment to hear Johnnie’s protest, but none came.

  “Assholes,” he growled under his breath, stuffed his hands into his pockets and started off toward the club. He refused to ponder the events of the last half hour. If he did, he’d get his personal effects, go to his car, and walk away for good. That was the last thing he wanted, so he concentrated on getting to the clubhouse.

  At the entrance, it surprised him to see Cash McCall lounging outside, smoking a cigarette. Cash, Stretch, and Ophelia stayed mostly to themselves. Knox speculated it was because of their unconventional relationship the three had, with neither being married to Ophelia, but to each other. She was just their girlfriend and mother of their children.

  “Cash,” Knox rumbled, not in the mood to talk to him. He was one of them and had never been particularly nice to Knox.

  Cash blew out a ring of smoke and turned to Knox. “Come with me, Harrington.”

  His hand on the door handle, Knox glared at Cash. “Fuck off.”

  Cash’s soft laughter chilled Knox. He reminded himself this man had been a sniper in the military and was now the club’s explosives technician.

  “You can fucking walk or I can fucking do it my way. Your choice.”