“I know.”
“Then you’re giving me permission to shoot him?”
He lifted a brow. “Shoot who?”
“Don’t be asinine,” she sniffed. “Outlaw. We both know it was him who was in this house.”
Johnnie winced and started to speak.
“Don’t,” she interrupted. “You don’t want to kill him but you’d see no problem if someone else did.”
“That isn’t true!” he snapped. “This is part of the problem, Kendall. You believe the things I do are for completely different reasons than what I actually intend them to be. I don’t want Christopher dead, by your hand or my own. I do want you safe.”
“Safe?” she asked in disbelief, then held up the gun. “Safe? If it is Outlaw who broke into here and does so again, what then? If I point a weapon at him, either I have to fire, or die myself.”
Scowling, Johnnie snatched the Glock from her and shoved it away. “Do you have to make a fucking argument out of everything? I always have your best interest in mind with all that I do.”
“I doubt that,” she spat. “Shooting Outlaw is a moot point anyway. I’m no longer in possession of the gun.”
He huffed out a breath. “Don’t ignore the fucking issue. Address the subject. I want to hear what you have to say.”
She shook her head, stubborn as usual. “I’m moving on from the conversation,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “How was your day?” she asked, folding her arms as if daring him to challenge her change of subject.
He wanted to clear the air between them, have the conversation that laid everything on the line. But he knew it wouldn’t be tonight. As usual, she wanted her way and was digging her heels in. Fuck, but she was childish and annoying.
He drew in a deep breath to calm himself, deciding to find something positive in the conversation. Besides, if he wanted to be completely honest, her question pleased him. She seldom asked about his day. “It was long,” he admitted.
“Meggie invited me to the family dinner tomorrow,” she told him, not commenting on his answer, as if it didn’t matter to her and had only served her own selfish purposes. “If you don’t want me there, I’ll stay home.”
“I have no problem with you being there, sweetheart,” he said gruffly, hating her uncertainty. That same primitive feeling of possession and the need to protect her returned. He wanted to take her in his arms and shield her, kiss her from head-to-toe and lose himself in the ecstasy of her body. But they needed more than a physical relationship. They needed openness and honesty. They needed trustworthiness. “Even if I did, Megan invited you. It isn’t my house. All I ask is that you leave CJ alone.”
A guilty look crossed her face. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t like that child.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure I won’t see him, Johnnie. He’ll be too busy playing with the other kids. Besides, I’ll have a chance to spend more time with Rory, Matilda, and JJ.”
“Right. Focus on our children. Don’t concern yourself with what CJ does.”
She nodded, then shifted and clasped her hands together. “I haven’t eaten,” she said. “Have you? I have leftover black bean salad. Enough for both of us.”
“Sounds delicious,” Johnnie said, meaning it. “I’m starving, so your offer is quite welcome.”
She glanced at him through her lashes. “I’d like to offer you something else.”
His cock perked at the thought of taking Kendall, but his brain rebelled. “Let’s stick to dinner and drinks tonight.”
“Of course,” she said coolly, then brushed past him.
“Kendall,” he said, following behind her.
Stopping, she stiffened her shoulders, but didn’t turn. “Yes?”
“I want to have dinner with you. Enjoy your company, but I’m not dealing with your damn attitude. Either get over the fact I’m not fucking you tonight, or I leave.”
Though she remained silent, with her back still to him, she seemed to wilt. Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. A subdued Kendall was a new concept.
“Our food will be on the table in ten minutes.” She walked away.
Sighing in frustration, Johnnie followed behind her. In the kitchen, she was pulling a glass bowl out of the refrigerator.
“No protest to my words? I expected at least a discussion. Instead, you want to keep me guessing at your thoughts?”
Setting the bowl on the counter, she faced him. “What do you want me to say, Johnnie? No, what do you want from me? If I respond, I’m a problem. If I don’t respond, I’m a problem. Basically, in your eyes, I’m just a problem.”
“No, you’re not. When you’re acting like you have some goddamn sense, you’re a dream come true. Otherwise, you’re a fucking demon.”
“I have issues!”
“So fucking what?” Johnnie snarled. He’d tried to help her with her emotional problems, but she never cooperated. Or, if she started out following advice and doctors’ orders, she stopped. Kendall’s mind closed when it came to her mental health. “We all have issues,” he reminded her, hoping to appeal to the side of her looking to identify with others. “We don’t destroy all of our relationships because of them.”
Tears rushed to her eyes and she held her hands out. “I have a new diagnosis,” she rushed out, her gaze pleading. “New medication.”
He almost took her in his arms and asked for an explanation. He forced himself not to. She’d just seize upon his softening to manipulate him. “For once, Kendall, I don’t care.” This new, hard-nosed approach might give her incentive to cooperate. She loved to do the opposite of whatever he asked of her. The thought angered him, and he glared at her. “A new diagnosis? New medication? What the fuck does that mean if you get tired of your plan of recovery? Not a fucking thing. You start out with hope—I start out with hope and dreams and plans for our future—then you fucking self-destruct. A man can only live with so many disappointments about how his marriage is going. Only so much hope. When you lose hope, faith, you have nothing.”
She sucked in a breath.
“For so long, I cared about you, your mental health, getting you well, but you rewarded me with more bullshit. You have a new diagnosis? Good for you. Take your meds; don’t take them. That’s on you. My children are safe from your moods. My life is more peaceful.” The truth of those words stunned him. He’d always felt so broken and guilty when they separated. This time, he didn’t. “I don’t have to tiptoe through my fucking life to keep you happy. Rory is at ease.”
Her mouth opened and closed, before she finally found words. “You don’t love me anymore,” she stated in a broken whisper.
“I love you, Kendall. I always will. I just don’t know if I’m in love with you any longer. I don’t know if I want to stay married to you.” He didn’t need her in his life as he once had.
She released a pitiful sob. “Is there someone else?”
“No.”
“Are you looking?”
“As long as you’re my wife, I won’t break our vows,” he swore.
“Suppose someone comes along, someone who isn’t psycho-cunt Kendall.”
“You’re not a cunt.”
She gasped, swiping her cheeks to remove the tracks of her tears. “But I’m psycho?”
“You’re something,” he retorted.
“As if you’re perfect,” she sneered, then closed her eyes. When she reopened them and stared at him, there was no derision in her gaze, no anger on her face, only an openness Johnnie was determined to ignore. “I’m fighting, Johnnie,” she said with quiet dignity. “For myself and my children. I’m fighting for you and our marriage. I don’t want to lose you.”
Regret enveloped him and he gave her a sad smile. “You already have.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sitting on the edge of the bed in the club room he didn’t want to be in, Knox watched as Johnnie imparted his flat words to Kendall before turning on his heel and sauntering away. Because of all of the
cameras, Knox tracked Johnnie’s progress to the front door. The man looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He looked at peace.
Meanwhile, Kendall slid to the floor in near hysterical sobs. She sat, angled between cabinets, rocking herself, before she finally curled up on the floor and cried. After ten minutes of watching this, Knox sighed and exited the program. He almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
The other part of him, the biggest part, felt vindicated. He got a certain sick satisfaction at watching her fall apart. She deserved every heartache.
However, Knox cursed himself for forgetting to close the front door. Just as he’d gotten back to the club, he’d gotten an alert of activity in Kendall’s house. He’d opened the needed app on his tablet and saw Johnnie searching. Knox knew, without a doubt, it was because he had indeed forgotten to shut the door.
Putting the tablet’s screen to sleep, Knox had called himself a dumb asshole all the way back to the bedroom he occupied, ignoring everyone, just as they ignored him. He’d called Roxanne, but received her voicemail, then he’d waited, expecting her to call and tell him what a fabulous time she’d had with his mother.
He’d gotten nothing. After ten minutes, he’d decided to check on Kendall, wondering if Johnnie had left.
Now, he set his tablet aside, once again waiting. This time for Outlaw’s call. He’d been expecting to hear from him for hours. Frankly, it shocked him that the man had left Knox to his own devices for the entire day.
Another ten minutes slid by in slow, tortuous minutes. He never realized how important the space and freedom to move around was to him, until he’d lost it with the forced exile at the club.
He could always move in with his parents. That, however, would put him too far away from Roxanne. He wanted to be as close to her as possible, since he couldn’t live with her because of Mortician’s hypocritical mandate.
Knox and Johnnie were the only two with both logic and education out of that whole group of men.
Reaching for his cell phone where it lay next to him on the bed, Knox intended to try Roxanne again. Before he dialed her number, the phone started buzzing, indicating an incoming call.
Mother popped up on the screen, and Knox smiled.
“Hello, Mother,” he answered, excited to hear about the wedding plans.
“Knox, dear, I simply must talk to you as soon as possible.”
An inkling of unease spread through Knox at her anxious tone. “Why?”
“Roxanne, of course,” his mother answered irritably. “What else? The woman isn’t fit to be a Harrington. She says she won’t hold the ceremony here at the estate. She has her own minister chosen, some little priest that Charlotte Redding says is a greedy creature. She only wanted two of the items…no, she wanted one and Bailey wanted another of the menu items that Chef painstakingly prepared. She used the f-word in my house! She insulted Charlotte. She is just not the woman for you.”
“Let’s not get into this again,” Knox started calmly. “We’ve put all of these differences behind us. You and Dad accepted Roxanne—”
“As your girlfriend,” she screeched. “Not as your future wife! Girlfriends are expendable. Wives aren’t as easy to get rid of. She’s classless, clueless, and cash-hungry.”
“That’s enough!” Knox barked. Roxanne didn’t fit any of those labels. That his mother returned to her original feelings annoyed him. “You’re snobbish, elitist and judgmental, so you’re even.”
His mother gasped. “You asked me to be on her stupid committee.”
“And you agreed! You even wanted it moved to the estate. Something you begged me to do.”
“To have control,” she snarled with vicious spite. “She doesn’t deserve the honor of having you in her life. What woman has a committee of friends to plan her wedding, rather than a wedding planner? A job well-paid is a job well-done. Your marriage should be of singular focus. What is she doing? Sharing the ceremony and allowing her already-married daughter to renew her vows! She’s clueless about what it means to be a Harrington.”
Knox winced at hearing his mother voice the attitude he’d taken in the beginning. No wonder Roxanne had been so furious. Having them thrown back at him shamed and insulted him.
“Bailey had every right to be included in the double ceremony, Mother. As long as I’m happy with Roxanne’s vision of being a Harrington you have nothing to say about it,” he stormed. “She’s going to be my wife, not yours.”
“The twain shall never meet, Knox,” his mother said briskly. “You are wealthy and cultured. She isn’t. Before she breaks your heart, she’s going to humiliate you. Charlotte—”
Charlotte Redding. His mother’s statement from moments before about Charlotte being at the meeting sunk into Knox. “What was Charlotte doing there?” he asked, tuning out whatever else she’d said. No way would Roxanne want her there.
“Kendall Donovan invited her.”
He heard the smile in her voice.
“I knew this was going to be a trial, so I made sure to use my personal drawing room. I wanted to show the clear line between us by sitting on one side in my Bergere chair and having them sit amongst each other.”
Knox’s mouth fell open. Fuuuuccckkkk. “Mother, tell me you didn’t really do that?” He hated his begging tone, but if his mother…More than likely, Roxanne was livid.
“I most certainly did. How else could I make my disapproval clear? I congratulated that horrible woman on your engagement and she had the unmitigated gall to call me out and use the f-word again. I’m completely within my rights not to have called her right after the engagement.”
“Mother, listen to me. Whether you like it or not, Roxanne will be my wife. I love her and she loves me. You either accept her or lose me.” He thought of Outlaw. “Case closed.”
“Knox, you didn’t even do the engagement in the proper manner. You should’ve had an engagement party and invited our friends and family. Society columnists. Your second engagement should’ve been a showstopping moment amongst the elite of the elite. And, if that makes me an elitist, so be it. I’m proud of it. You once were, too. You even did the politically correct thing and followed Cameron into a career. You never needed to do that. You’re a wealthy man. Something you enjoyed lording over others.”
Except Cam. The errant thought flitted through Knox’s mind as he came to a conclusion about himself. “I’ve changed. I’ve grown,” he amended.
“Because of Roxanne.”
He wouldn’t deny his mother’s putrid statement. “Because of Roxanne,” he echoed with finality. “I’m a grown man. Capable of making my own damn decisions and judging for myself who I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Ha!” his mother snorted. “Do you hear yourself? You don’t even like her friends. You gave them a chance. You were considerate enough to apologize. Yet, they didn’t deserve it.”
He supposed he’d always be a cop at heart. His apology had come back to haunt him during a situation with Cam’s then-friend-now-wife. Jordan had been Megan’s OB first, then Roxanne’s friend, and then Cam’s everything. A former relationship had put her life on the line. When all the bad guys were captured, Knox wanted them taken into custody. Outlaw’s opinion that they needed to be executed on the spot had prevailed. Knox had realized once a criminal, always a criminal. The bikers would never place the same value on life that he did. “They can be hard to swallow.”
“Exactly! You think about them the way I do about Roxanne. You’ve told me so many times before. She’s just like them. How can you expect me to believe you want her, when you can’t stand to have her friends around you? In spite of your feelings towards them, you suffer through vulgar family get-togethers every week for her. The least she can do is respect my house!”
Knox sighed. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but Roxanne’s friends are my friends,” he lied. “If you insult them, you insult me. Now, you owe my fiancé an apology.”
“What? No,
absolutely not. Thankfully, Kendall suggested I plan the rehearsal dinner. Roxanne, however, is in charge of the wedding plans with her ridiculous committee. I shudder to think how that’ll turn out.”
“It will turn out beautiful,” Knox snapped. “Roxanne has excellent taste. Besides, it’s her wedding. If she wants to decorate in purple, green, and gold, and have a second line, that’s up to her.”
Silence, then: “What’s a second line?”
Something his mother would never participate in. He couldn’t see her following a band, the first line, and being part of the crowd of participants collectively known as the second line. “Never mind. I should’ve just taken her away to Vegas like she wanted. I wouldn’t have to have such bullshit going on all around me.”
A knock sounded on his door. Knox silently thanked whatever providence had sent an interruption to his mother’s nonsense. “Someone’s at the door. I have to go.”
“Don’t be angry,” she ordered. “You know this marriage won’t last. Why else would you ask her to sign a pre-nup?”
Damn his father!
“Knox?”
The sound of Roxanne’s voice startled him. He’d been waiting to hear it all day.
“I have to go, Mother.”
“You have no chemistry…”
Those were the last words he heard before he disconnected the call and rushed to the door, throwing it open and pulling her into his arms. She tasted so sweet and smelled so good.
She placed her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with the same vigor that he gave it. The feel of her left him breathless and giddy. It—
Without warning, she was jerked out of his embrace. It was so sudden both Knox and Roxanne stumbled.
“Boy, you lost your damn mind?” Roxanne yelled to Mortician, who stood in the hallway holding Roxanne’s arm and glaring at Knox.
Before Mortician answered, she elbowed him in the gut. The man didn’t flinch.
“Let me go!” she demanded.
“Let her go, Mortician,” Knox warned.
“Or what?” Mortician asked in bored tones.
“Or I’m beating your ass,” Roxanne snapped. “I’ll give you a beatdown so ferocious, you’ll wonder what the fuck happened to you. I’ll fuck you up so bad, it’ll be days before Bailey knows it’s really you.”
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