Knox drained his glass. “I don’t care what they think of her, Dad. I love her and that’s all that matters.”
“She was fine as your girlfriend—”
“Enough!” Knox interrupted. “Either you accept her as my wife or you lose me as your son. There’s no negotiations.”
“You’d risk your mother and me disinheriting you for a woman who’s past her prime and can’t birth you more children?”
“Have you ever heard of adoption?” Knox snapped. “And, yes, I don’t need your goddamn money if it means following your every dictate. Take it and burn it.” He set his glass on the small table next to him and got to his feet. “If this is the only reason you agreed to accompany me to our first fitting, you could’ve stayed home.”
He hated to admit it, but the fitting at the Whittlestones had been much more enjoyable. The atmosphere had been relaxed and not so pretentious. In spite of the disagreeability of Mortician, Knox had had a much better time. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t imagine Grant enjoying the sternness of Tottingham and Harold.
Knox almost—almost—regretted his refusal of purchasing his tuxedo from the same place as the bikers.
“Tell me now. Is this a threat? Do you intend to disown me?”
“No,” his dad said after a tense moment. “You’re my only son, my only child, and I want what’s best for you.”
“Roxanne is best for me. She makes me happy. She gives my life meaning.”
“She’s abnormally common.”
Despite himself, Knox laughed. “Abnormally common? Really, Dad?”
His father smiled. “You know what I mean.”
Knox nodded, though he felt as if he betrayed Roxanne by agreeing. But she did have a very foul mouth. Not to mention a certain Navigator that remained stuck in Knox’s craw. He could just talk to her, but she could be so stubborn. He was afraid any conversation about either of those topics would dissolve into an argument. His words got ahead of him sometimes. By the time his brain caught up, he would’ve spewed his resentment and she’d never forgive him.
However, after the hot sex this morning, his mood had lifted—until Cash had come storming in and reminded Knox about the cameras.
“You know the ones, motherfucker? They aren’t turned off unless we decide not to record. Which is rare. Your saving fucking grace was that it was fucking dark. The footage has been erased. If Mortician had gotten to it, Digger would be cleaning your fucking guts up.”
“It wasn’t my idea,” Knox had fumed.
“Don’t give a fuck. It’s up to you to convince her to go to your fucking room. It’s your fucking job to protect her.”
“I forgot about the fucking cameras.” He hadn’t known they were on at all times.
“Next time, remember them.”
At that point, Roxanne had walked in, her body defining his Tee-shirt and sweats, her skin glowing and her eyes heavy-lidded. She’d been floating on the same cloud as him since he’d gotten her pre-dawn call where she told him she intended to do a booty call. Or, as she said it, a dick call.
He laughed.
“Son?”
His father’s voice reminded him he wasn’t alone. “Yeah, Dad?”
“Care to share the joke?”
“Private matter between Roxanne and I.”
“I understand.” He fell silent, then heaved a breath. “At least tell me she’s signing a prenup?”
“Of course she is, Dad.”
“She’s already agreed?”
The relief in his father’s voice got to Knox. He didn’t want his parents to worry that he’d allow any woman, even Roxanne, to swoop in and bankrupt the Harringtons. He nodded. “Of course.”
Smiling, his father clapped him on the back. “Good, good. You’re not my boy for nothing.”
Swallowing, Knox decided he needed to secure Roxanne’s agreement, and signature, soon, so they could move past this pesky detail and focus solely on their wedding plans.
And, of course, outsmarting Mortician.
Chapter Twenty-Four
BPD – Borderline Personality Disorder, characterized by an inability to maintain personal relationships, uncontrollable anger, fear of abandonment, impulsiveness, and poor self-image, among other things.
Usually, it was ignored for more common diagnoses, such as major depressive disorder, anxiety disorder, eating disorders, PTSD, and bipolar disorder. AND BPD usually co-existed with one of the other mental illnesses. As was the case for Kendall, who, according to Dr. Briscow, suffered not only BPD, but depression and anxiety, too. When she’d left Johnnie for those six months before Rory’s birth, her then-psychiatrist said she was borderline schizophrenic. He’d never once mentioned BPD, but it made so much sense now.
Kendall had had so many different diagnoses, she didn’t know which one was accurate, and so latched on to any new one in an effort to help herself when she became too extreme. Yes, she hated the medicine. And, yes, it changed her. But Johnnie and her children were more important to her. This time, she’d really try to follow her recovery plan. She’d intended to explain all of that to Johnnie, last night, but he hadn’t wanted to hear. He hadn’t been interested. She’d wanted to tell him about her new form of therapy, DBT, or dialectical behavior therapy. There was even a course for family members to take to better be able to cope with their loved ones’ BPD.
Another fact Johnnie hadn’t allowed her to explain.
Yesterday, when he’d left her, he’d ripped her heart out and torn her to pieces. Somehow, she’d spent most of the day working with Charlotte on plans for the law offices. But true contentment escaped Kendall. The unease she’d felt all day didn’t make sense. Or, maybe, it did. When Johnnie walked out, her entire world tilted.
Swallowing, Kendall hesitated as she stepped onto the pathway that started just beyond the club grounds and led to their homes. The house she’d shared with Johnnie stood at the very end of the path, right near the cave and stream that served as a beautiful backdrop.
Had she truly lost her home and her family?
No! No! She wouldn’t still be on the wedding committee if she had. As long as she was a part of Roxy and Bailey’s ceremony, she had a fighting chance to win Johnnie’s love again.
She turned back toward the clubhouse, uncertainty and fear coursing through her. Maybe she shouldn’t have come to the dinner tonight. It was meant for family. Absolutely no one saw her as such. Especially not her beloved Johnnie.
A harsh draft of air hit her and she burrowed into her Moncler flower-padded jacket. Her black Brooks Brothers Shearling fur gloves kept her hands warm. But nothing, absolutely nothing, warmed the chill inside of her.
Darkness had set in, but lights along the pathway penetrated the eerie blackness created by the trees surrounding her.
She took a step toward the clubhouse, then stopped. Meggie had invited her. And Roxy would be there. Kendall was sure they’d discuss more of the ceremony…if Roxy hadn’t decided she’d walked away from Knox since the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Didn’t Roxy see how alike Knox and his mother were?
Scowling, Kendall turned again, this time back in the direction of the houses. If no one else wanted her there, Meggie and Roxy did. Still, when she reached the gate to Meggie’s house, she hesitated.
The last thing she’d ever expected was fear of rejection from anyone at the club. Her family. Her friends.
Meggie had invited her, Kendall reminded herself for the thousandth time. Besides, she could go in and not make herself immediately known. She could listen…maybe overhear…something, anything. Anticipation to see her…disgust that she had been invited…Meggie confessing she’d only invited Kendall out of politeness.
Clearing her throat, Kendall punched in the code, and smiled when she heard the buzz, click and release that allowed her entry. Her journey to the front door felt a little unnerving. All the times she’d walked this same path with Johnnie and their children haunted her.
Despite her worry about how
tonight would go, she still scowled at the moat surrounding the house, as if it sat on a little island of its own. Just one more precaution Outlaw had put in place to keep Meggie safe.
At the front door, she stopped again. Pulled off her gloves, hating her uncertainty. She was afraid of her reception, not unlike the feeling she got whenever she’d come across Emily in school…Fuck Emily! That wicked bitch was a closed chapter in her life.
She had more pressing concerns. Such as… If the other guys saw Johnnie giving her the cold shoulder, would they follow suit, too?
She licked her lips. Thought about turning and leaving. But what else did she have to do? Her children were on the other side of that door. Her husband. Her friends.
Her family. Everything she wanted and everything worth fighting for.
Steeling her spine, she shoved her gloves inside her pocket, twisted the door knob and walked into the house.
As she quietly closed the door, the inside warmth enveloped her. The familiarity of her surroundings comforted her. How many days had she come here to visit Meggie? Or to confront her? Or try to guide her in the right direction and out of her husband’s shadow?
Or to work at her desk as the attorney for Meggie and Zoann’s healthcare company? She, herself, owned such a minute share, she didn’t consider it a true vested interest.
Kendall had spent as much time in this house as she had at her own. And she’d always been welcomed. Despite everything. She’d always gotten a much warmer reception than she gave when Meggie visited her.
The entrance hall Kendall stood in had a very traditional look. There were the corners where Meggie placed her fiberglass Pilgrims and Christmas scenes during the holidays. Just beyond the wide archway was another central hall that led to various rooms in the huge house. Beyond that was the massive staircase that led to the second and third floors.
With no one there to greet her, Kendall was glad she’d left her Balenciaga tote bag in her Navigator in the club parking lot. There was a private access road to the houses, but she couldn’t bring herself to use it.
Footsteps grabbed her attention and Kendall darted into the nearest corner. She didn’t want to be seen. She wanted to hear…that she was missed. Or hated. Or loved.
The sounds of a little boy and a grown man playing the-monster-will-catch-you brought a nostalgic smile to Kendall’s lips. She knew it was Johnnie because he liked to play the game with Rory and Matilda. But the child’s laughter didn’t sound like Rory’s. It was loud and boisterous and joyous, whereas her son always hesitated to smile, as if innate happiness didn’t come easily to him.
Because of her?
“Uncle Johnnie, you’re funny,” CJ said around giggles. “Ro funny, too.”
“You know why?” Johnnie asked in a mock-growl. “Because you have a very funny mom and Rory has a funny aunt. Now, I’m going to get you!”
A funny mom. A funny aunt. Meggie. All at once, Kendall’s anger rushed back, layering her insecurities with destructive force. She covered her mouth to hold in her sobbing roar, sick to her stomach.
“Stop tickling me, Uncle Johnnie,” CJ yelled, laughing hysterically.
“I’m the tickle monster,” Johnnie responded.
“Tickle me, Dad!” Rory shouted, sounding truly happy and full of life. Much more so than when she’d been involved in his life on a day-to-day basis.
“Megan let you dress yourself again, son?” Johnnie asked.
Kendall’s nostrils flared, another arrow piercing her heart.
“Aunt Meggie said I’m a big boy and I can wear what I want to.”
“Your Aunt Megan is not only funny but nice.”
Johnnie’s words poured fuel on Kendall’s bubbling emotions. Had they seen her coming? They must have! Cameras were all around the place and at the gate.
Because, Jesus, what were the odds that she would immediately hear this conversation?
Her progress felt as if it imploded, collapsed from the inside and left her the same empty shell she had been.
“Mommie said she’s going to punch you if you tell Ro that her funnier than Aunt Kenda,” CJ explained. “Aunt Kenda his mommie and MegAnn mine.”
Getting control of herself again, Kendall dropped her hands to her sides, irritated. Why couldn’t the little asshole say Kendall?
“When’s Mommie coming home, Dad?” Rory asked. “I miss her.”
Kendall pressed a hand against her belly at the sound of her son’s sadness.
“Aunt Kenda a big giant bitch, Ro,” CJ said. “Why you miss her?”
“Nuh-uh, fuckhead! Take that back,” Rory cried.
Kendall scowled at Rory’s foul language, waiting for Johnnie to correct him. Of course, he didn’t.
“My mommie is gorgeous.” Rory continued his defense of her, and she smiled. “Dad says it all the time.”
“Don’t push me,” CJ grunted, just before Rory shouted and the sound of little boys scuffling reached her. “Ima make you bleed, fuck-your-mother!”
“Stop this minute, boys!” Johnnie commanded.
“What the fuck goin’ on in here?”
Instant silence at Outlaw’s question. Kendall rolled her eyes.
“Uncle Chris, CJ call me a fuck-your-mother and said my mommie is a big giant bitch. And he pushed me.”
“It’s motherfucker, boy,” Outlaw corrected as CJ shouted, “Ro pushed me first!”
“I already told your lil’ fuckin’ ass stop sayin’ that about that bitch,” Outlaw growled, ignoring CJ’s whiny explanation.
“That’s very fucking adult of you,” Johnnie said sarcastically. “CJ, do not call your Aunt Kendall out of her name. You’re a child and you’re showing supreme disrespect. If I hear it again, I’ll spank you myself.”
“Lay a fuckin’ hand on my fuckin’ kid and I’ll fuck you up my-fuckin-self.”
“Then tell him he’s wrong, Christopher,” Johnnie snarled.
“You ain’t tellin’ me how to raise my fuckin’ kid.”
“What is going on in here?” The question came again, this time by Meggie. “We can hear the four of you in the den.”
“Ain’t nothin’, baby,” Outlaw answered casually. “Just boy talk.”
“CJ?” Meggie said firmly, for once not simpering to her fuckhead husband.
“Ro and John-John mad because I called Aunt Kenda a big giant bitch. ‘Law say that bitch my aunt and—”
“Enough!” Meggie shouted. “Time out, young man. Now!”
“What the fuck that’s gonna do, baby?” Outlaw asked in confusion. “The lil’ motherfucker do the same thing. Time out a waste of fuckin’ time.”
“Come on, CJ,” Meggie ordered, still ignoring Outlaw. “You have a time out for five minutes.”
Sudden sniffles punctuated the air.
“Aunt Meggie, I’m thirsty,” Rory said. “Can I have some juice?”
“It’s may I,” Johnnie corrected.
“Ask your dad,” Meggie responded.
“I defer to you, Megan,” Johnnie said. “You’re such a good mother. I trust you know what’s best.”
Meggie sighed. “Let’s get you some juice, Rory.”
“Thank you, Aunt…”
Her son’s voice faded away. Kendall shook, and thought about showing herself, then decided against it. She wanted to hear more. Wanted to hear how Johnnie was brainwashing Rory to put Meggie on the same pedestal he did.
“I’m tired of your son disrespecting, Kendall.”
“Don’t give a fuck. Cuz you know what the fuck my ass tired of? You actin’ like Megan your lil’ motherfuckers’ ma, then you comin’ here thinkin’ you my lil’ motherfuckers’ old man. Ima spank CJ lil’ ass for sayin’ what he did about Kendall, but how I get to that fuckin’ point my business, not yours. Cuz the way my ass see it, you ain’t no better than your bitch. She got a fuckin’ reason for bein’ a cunt to Rory, Matilda, and JJ. She psycho. You supposed to have all your goddamn sense, so why the fuck your kids stayin’ with me and my wo
man?”
WHAT?
Her kids were living with Meggie and Outlaw? Johnnie never told her that!
“Because it is too hard to look at them, without thinking of Kendall. I miss her so much, but I…she is so hard to handle. She is always getting me into trouble. Or herself.”
“Cuz she a busy bitch,” Outlaw told him. “And I wanna knock you the fuck out, cuz you always make my fuckin’ ass defend that cunt, when I hate the fuck outta her. All the fuck I’m hearin’ is she, she, she…What the fuck about your motherfuckin’ ass? You got faults comin’ out the ass, Johnnie. That bitch get into all type of shit, but I gotta give her ass fuckin’ credit for at least tryna change once in a fuckin while. If she ain’t hatin’ on Megan so much and doin’ shit to irritate the fuck outta me and just basically fuckin’ breathin’, I might actually like that bitch. She fuckin’ tough. She ain’t easily a-fuckin-fraid. She got a fuckin’ brain. She pretty. She been through a lot and she still fuckin’ standin’. She shit for a ma, but even that coulda been different if your ass ain’t such a assfuck to her.”
“Am I in the Twilight Zone?” Johnnie asked, sounding as awed as Kendall felt at Outlaw’s words. “You’re defending Kendall?”
“Johnnie, I want that bitch gone, dead, for so many different fuckin’ reasons, I ain’t got time to list them all. But I fuckin’ hate you givin’ Megan the responsibility for your fuckin’ children.”
Kendall did, too. She almost broke down in sobs to know that someone thought she was worthy. That was all she’d ever wanted. Maybe, just a few weeks ago, she would’ve been feeling vindicated that it was Outlaw who defended her. Now, it only left her sad and hopeful that Johnnie would eventually come to see her as Outlaw did.
“What’s wrong with Megan looking after my kids? CJ—all of your children—are happy and well-adjusted. CJ is like you because Megan allowed him to be your son. She allowed you two to bond. Kendall hates the biker in me, so she did her best to turn Rory into who she thought he should be. He’s quiet and reserved, and it’s all Kendall’s fault.”
Outlaw snorted. “Keep believin’ that, motherfucker.”
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