“Of course you can, Knox. We won’t bring Mortician and Bailey home with us. We’ll still get to fuck.”
Mortician frowned at Roxanne.
“Please, dearest heart. Don’t discuss intercourse in front of your daughter.”
Roxanne and Bailey looked at each other, then broke out into peals of laughter. It was so happy, so contagious, that Knox couldn’t help but join in. Even Mortician chuckled.
“Since we all here, why don’t we talk about wedding plans,” he suggested.
Knox shook his head. “This isn’t a night for those discussions,” he disagreed. “This is a night for me to honor my fiancée.”
It had been a night to discuss the pre-nuptial agreement. He’d chosen today specifically because he knew about church, which Mortician never missed. After Roxanne told him to contact the biker and convinced Knox it would keep down bullshit that might ruin their date, he’d decided to get Bailey on board first.
For the next couple of hours, Knox decided to give Mortician a chance to show he was more than a killer and a biker. More often than not, he found he enjoyed Mortician’s witticisms. Other than his prolific use of the word fuck, the enforcer showed he at least knew his ABCs and the fundamentals of Civics and American History.
At the end of the night, when Roxanne excused herself to go to the ladies’ room and Mortician left to smoke, Knox found himself alone with Bailey.
She picked up her second glass of champagne and sipped.
Knox drummed his fingers on the table, then glanced at his watch before adjusting his tie. “You aren’t much of a drinker,” he said after five minutes and he was still alone with Roxanne’s daughter. “We’ve gone through four bottles and you’ve only had a glass from the first and last.”
Setting her glass aside, Bailey pursed her lips and stared at him, drawing her brows together. Obviously, she wished to impart something to him.
“Yes?” he inquired politely.
“Lucas told me,” she announced.
Knox lifted his brow. “About?”
“What you said about having the longest engagement in history. Asking my mother to sign a prenup.”
“He had no right to open his fucking mouth.”
“He had every right,” Bailey argued with coolness. “You can’t act so high-and-mighty to Lucas, Outlaw, and the others, and not expect repercussions. I’ve defended you! Helped to arrange a night for you and Momma. I should’ve known Lucas had reasons for his actions. How dare you? Don’t hurt my mother. Don’t insult her by asking her to sign this document.”
“Or what?” Knox sneered, offended that she thought to chastise him. “You’ll tell Roxanne? I didn’t mean what I said, Bailey. You, of all people, should realize that. Out of the two of you, you have the brain.”
Bailey drew herself up. “My husband was a double major. He earned a math and music degree.”
Knox laughed. “If you say so.”
“I’m not going to argue with you over this. My mother is vulnerable to you. She loves you, so don’t be a jerk to her. Don’t ruin her wedding with bullshit.”
“I can’t believe you’re telling me not to ruin our wedding, when you already have. You had no fucking business allowing your husband to run roughshod over the situation and force you to be in our wedding. How dare me? How dare you? Being a spoiled brat and ruining my wedding to your mother.”
Her eyes watered and her nose reddened. Knox thought she might cry. Instead, she narrowed her eyes. “Fuck you,” she hissed, shocking the hell out of him.
He’d never heard Bailey cuss.
“Right back at you, babe,” he responded.
“You about ready, pretty girl?” Mortician asked, walking back in a moment later. He paused and looked between her and Knox. “What the fuck he said to you, Bailey?”
Bailey got to her feet. “Nothing, Lucas. Where’s Momma?”
Mortician stared at her a moment longer, then glowered at Knox. “She saw Cam and Jordan at a table. I told her I’d come in here to round the two of you up.”
“Let me run and say ‘hi’ to them,” Bailey said, rushing away before her husband could respond either way.
Mortician watched her leave, then turned to Knox and lit another cigarette.
“Smoking isn’t allowed in this building.”
“Knox, let me tell you something, son. I know my woman. You said something to upset her.”
“I’m not getting into this with you.”
“You know what, motherfucker? I don’t have to do a fucking thing. Why waste a fucking bullet on you? All I got to do is tell Roxanne you hurt Bailey and you’ll be looking for your fucking nut sac in the garbage disposal.”
“Don’t ruin this evening,” Knox said, not dignifying the gruesome scenario with a response. He wouldn’t even bring up his irritation that Mortician had told Bailey about the engagement conversation. “Don’t tell Roxanne anything.”
Mortician smirked at Knox, blew smoke in his face and walked away.
For the duration of the ride home, Knox expected Mortician or Bailey to tell Roxanne about the confrontation. But neither of them said nothing.
At the clubhouse, Mortician parked the Escalade, near the door, and got out.
“Bye, sugar. I really enjoyed myself,” Roxanne whispered, laying her palm against his cheek.
Knox hugged her. “Me, too. I’ll see you—”
Without warning, Mortician jerked Knox out of the SUV. It was so sudden that he nearly went sprawling.
“Asshole,” Knox growled, jerking away from Mortician.
“Mortician, boy, what the fuck is your problem?” Roxanne yelled.
“Nothing. Your date over.”
“I’m tired,” Bailey announced.
“I’ll be right back, pretty girl,” Mortician promised, then pointed to the door. “Get to stepping.”
Roxanne started out. “I’m coming. You acting like a damn fool again.”
“I need to talk to you, Momma.”
“Fine, Bailey,” Roxanne said without a moment’s hesitation. She blew out a frustrated breath but said, “I’ll call you later, Knox,” then slammed the door shut.
Mortician held the door open. Knox stalked into the clubhouse, surprised to find only two bikers at the bar, talking to Potter. Knox nodded to them, then continued on, aware of Mortician hot on his heels.
At the door to his temporary room, Knox used his key to unlock the knob.
“We not telling Roxanne nothing. Bailey still haven’t told me. But Knox, motherfucker, you walking on thin ice. Don’t fuck with Bailey. That will get you killed quicker than you fucking with Roxanne.”
“Mortician—”
A mighty shove by the enforcer interrupted Knox’s words and sent him stumbling into the room. Unable to regain his balance, he went sprawling on the floor. He lifted his head in time to see Mortician’s glare before he slammed the door so hard, it shook and reverberated through the room.
He’d suffer this indignity if it meant Roxanne never discovered Knox’s run-in with her Bailey.
Chapter Fourteen
Sipping a coke, Emily wondered if she’d recognize the President of the Death Dwellers. When the PI, Knox Harrington, had visited her during her shift at McDonald’s, he’d claimed he needed her to come to his office because a long-lost relative had left her an inheritance.
NOT! Her family had disinherited her. No way would any of them, from the oldest to the youngest, ever leave her anything. Wouldn’t happen.
Knox Harrington had finally confessed he was there on the orders of Outlaw, Death Dwellers MC president. Apparently, the biker had a job for her to do that involved a lot of money.
Whatever the assignment was, she didn’t want to hear about it from the PI. She wanted it straight from the outlaw’s mouth. She giggled at her play on words, continually amazed at what a Brainiac she was.
Outlaw.
What a big, bad name. But was he a big, bad biker?
She’d sent a message to Out
law through Knox: either he met with her or she wasn’t interested no matter the amount of money involved. Simply put, she smelled a rat. It was just too coincidental that Kendall Miller had sought her out, had a husband affiliated with the Death Dwellers, and now the president of that same club needed Emily for a job.
She hadn’t been able to make it to the library to Google the club president, so she really didn’t know how he looked. She’d already eaten up her usage on her phone plan, too. And she couldn’t ask any of her coworkers for help since none of the bitches there liked her, so she refused to associate with any of them. They were terribly jealous of her blonde beauty.
At one time, she would’ve laughed in their faces. Now, she worked alongside the low-class. People who needed the shitty job to survive.
People like…herself.
That reality hit her once again as she sat in a burger joint waiting for…
A tall, muscular man, wearing a leather vest, jeans, and motorcycle boots, strolled toward her…
Him…? Outlaw?
Every woman, every man, turned his way. He stopped at her table, widened his green eyes, and stared. Thick black lashes ringed his eyes in a beautiful display of masculine perfection and gave them a burning intensity. His temples had gray in them, but his black hair and tanned skin enhanced his stunning appearance.
“Fuck me,” he breathed. “You look just fuckin’ like her.”
She found her voice. “Like who?”
“My wife,” he responded, much to Emily’s disappointment. She tried to stay away from married men. She didn’t always succeed, since the male species found her so irresistible, but she gave herself credit for her valiant efforts.
He slid in the booth across from her. Fluttering her lashes at the biker enthralled him with so little effort, she almost laughed. He continued to stare, seeming speechless.
She offered him a saucy wink, wondering how close he was to his wife. “Are you happily married?” she asked.
He held up his big, left hand and wiggled his ring finger, indicating his simple gold band. “This repre-fuckin-sent the most important fuckin’ thing in my life.”
Licking her lips, she nodded, not believing him in the least and liking the way his gaze followed her mouth. Met her eyes. Looked at her mouth again, then glanced at her breasts.
She decided to follow his lead. With one look from his gorgeous eyes, one command from his sexy lips, he could get her to do anything he wanted.
Finally, he glanced away and stared into the distance.
“Big Joe, Big Joe, Big Joe,” he chanted on an annoyed mumble. “What the fuck you did?”
“Excuse me?”
Outlaw looked at her again. “You look just like her.”
Back to this. “Your wife?” She stopped short of rolling her eyes. Men always needed a reason to justify their cheating.
He nodded. “You just shocked the fuck outta me. Made me wonder about some shit.” He shrugged. “I can now fuckin’ under-fuckin-stand why psycho cunt go so fuckin’ crazy over my girl.”
Maybe…maybe, he was insane. He wasn’t making sense.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, then met her gaze again. “I ain’t got much time, babe, and I just fuckin’ used half the motherfucker oglin’ you,” he stated in a voice laced with just the right amount of roughness. “I’m off the grid right now and motherfuckers gonna be lookin’ for me, so lemme get straight to the fuckin’ point.”
She smiled, breathless and overheated, unable to contain her anticipation of feeling him inside of her.
“We got a common fuckin’ enemy,” he said flatly.
She frowned, confused.
“Kendall,” he clarified.
She straightened. “Kendall Mill…Donovan?”
“Psycho cunt.”
She laughed. “Psycho who?”
“Psycho cunt,” he repeated with a disarming grin.
Oh my God, he was gorgeous. Emily’s panties melted.
“Yeah, uh, yes. Kendall.” Her words were breathless. “Psycho cunt. I’ve never liked her.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Any particular fuckin’ reason why?”
“Does it matter?” she shot back. “If she’s your enemy, you wouldn’t care why I disliked her.”
“Answer the fuckin’ question,” he demanded.
At his tone, she instantly obeyed. “I just never liked her, Outlaw. She was poor with no daddy and a nut for a mom. She always wanted attention. My attention.” Remembering Kendall as a child shot jealousy through Emily. “All the boys liked that stupid cow and she was too fat and oblivious to see it. All she worried about was being accepted, by me. By anyone.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “She gave me the power. I just wielded it.”
“You ain’t ever thought bein’ nice to her woulda been better? She was a fuckin’ kid, only needin’ a motherfucker to understand her.”
Emily bit back her retort, arranging the dynamics of the club in her head. He was the president. Kendall’s husband was the vice-president. They possibly had a close relationship, so…so Outlaw wanted her to do a job for him. Yet, he was still a little outraged on Kendall’s behalf.
Not quite enemies then.
Her guard went up, but for completely different reasons than from the earlier one. If he was for Kendall, he was against Emily. That wouldn’t do. She refused to allow that redheaded bitch one more victory. Closing her eyes, she squeezed tears out. “I’m so sorry to have mistreated her all those years ago.” She sniffled and rubbed her cheek, giving him an imploring look. “I know I need to make it up to her.”
“First of fuckin’ all, I ain’t givin’ a fuck about your tears. They fake as fuck any-fuckin-way. Five fuckin’ minutes ago, you said you ain’t ever liked her ass. Now, you sittin’ there spoutin’ bullshit about wantin’ to make up your fucked-up behavior up to her?”
She blinked, then widened her eyes. Not many people read her so well. “Your crankiness will not get you your way,” she sniffed, dropping her theatrics. “As a matter of fact, I might be so turned off by it that I refuse to help you.”
“That’s on your fuckin’ ass if you ain’t wantin’ to help me. Usin’ you would be easier, but I got a fuckin’ Plan B, C, D, E, and into in-fuckin-finity.”
Oh my God! This man. He intrigued her so much, she couldn’t refuse him.
“Fine, Outlaw. Fine. I don’t regret what I did to Kendall. In my eyes, she’ll always be a pathetic, overgrown pig, who grew up to be little more than a slut.”
“A whore in designer clothes,” Outlaw agreed.
“Yes!” Emily said with a clap of her hands, happy at his putdown.
“That might be, Emily, but Kendall ain’t wantin’ for nothin’. She get on my last fuckin’ nerve. And I wanna fuckin’ kill her and box small pieces of her body the fuck up, but you ain’t got room to fuckin’ talk. She a strong bitch, pulled herself up to be a lawyer. She selfish as a motherfucker. Only think about her fuckin’ self. Jealous of my woman. Stole Johnnie balls. Wanna fuck me…”
Who could blame Kendall? Emily wanted to fuck him, too.
“Do you hate her or admire her?” she demanded.
“I hate that fuckin’ bitch with every fuckin’ thing in me, but I ain’t tryna get rid of her fuckin’ ass only to end up with a worse fuckin’ bitch. Ten times as hypocritical, judgmental, and who like to cause fuckin’ trouble. Johnnie and Kendall separated. I want her fuckin’ gone for good.”
Emily’s ears perked at the news. “Kendall didn’t tell me that. She told me she was married.”
“She is.”
“Like they were together. Better?”
“They ain’t. How-fuckin-ever, Johnnie gonna end up takin’ that bitch back. He always fuckin’ do. But Kendall hate my wife and obsessed with your fuckin’ ass.”
Those words brightened Emily’s perspective. This just got better and better. “Is that so?”
“Yeah, babe, so I wanna hire you to get Johnnie away from Kendall and drive
her in-fuckin-sane. All part of my plan to get her the fuck outta his life, our lives, for fuckin’ good.”
That sounded ominous. She was all in. “For good? How?”
“Don’t fuckin’ worry about that. Just do your fuckin’ job and shit gonna fuckin’ fall into place.”
“If you intend to kill her, I can do it for you. I’ll be happy to.” At one time, Emily had loved indulging in the death sites on the dark web. Corpses fascinated her. She wanted to wield that power of life and death over someone. “I don’t need some ugly biker named Johnnie. You and me can work together.”
He smirked at her. “You think Johnnie a ugly motherfucker? You think Kendall woulda took him if he was?”
“Most bikers are big hairy brutes. You’re the exception and I think Kendall was so desperate to marry, she would take any man who offered.”
Without answering, Outlaw pulled a cell phone from his pocket. A moment later, he held the device in front of her. A close-up of a golden-haired man with golden skin and silver eyes stared at her. He was magnificent!
“Johnnie.”
“Johnnie,” Emily breathed, unable to drag her gaze away, until realization dawned. “Kendall’s husband?”
“He got a college degree,” Outlaw said on a nod. “He a real preppy motherfucker. Bitches love this motherfucker.” He pulled the phone back and stared at her. “He good and bad all rolled into one.”
“And you want me to seduce him away from Kendall?”
“No. Seduce ain’t the right word. Have a fuckin’ relationship with him that Kendall know about.”
“He has a roaming eye,” Emily decided with satisfaction. Something must’ve been wrong with him if he’d married Kendall.
“Johnnie been wantin’ to fuck my woman for fuckin’ years,” Outlaw announced, a cold glint dropping into his green gaze.
“I thought Kendall wanted to fuck you.”
“She do. And her man wanna fuck my girl. That ain’t hard to understand.”
“It sounds like a soap opera.”
“What the fuck ever,” Outlaw said in dismissal.
“You know you really need to learn to deal with women. You’re rather overbearing.”
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