Misrule

by Kelly, Kathryn C.

  He noted that his announcement didn’t anger her.

  Unless Johnnie was mistaken, relief crossed Megan’s face and she sighed, her tension seeming to float away. He narrowed his eyes, opened his mouth to speak—

  “They are still going to tell him,” she interrupted.

  “I paid them two hundred fifty bucks a piece to get lost.” He shrugged. “They talk, they die. I’ll kill them for taking my money and not doing as I told them. Christopher will kill them because they left you.”

  She nodded. “Right.”

  “Are you done shopping?”

  “Yes,” she said, glancing away, revealing her lie. But he wouldn’t press her.

  Later, he’d talk to Krag and company. They were motherfuckers on a good day, so Johnnie wasn’t sure how they ended up as her guards. Yes, they’d seemed genuinely disappointed that they’d have to hand off such an easy job to Johnnie. Maybe, that was it. Meggie got along with everyone. Being Big Joe’s daughter and Outlaw’s wife went a long way in winning Krag, Talbot, Webster and Pete over.

  They were good allies, but horrible enemies, and meaner than fucking snakes. If anyone fucked with Megan, the four older men would gleefully serve as executioners.

  “Can we go somewhere to talk?” he asked, deciding to leave the subject of who guarded Megan to Christopher.

  Before she spoke, he saw the denial to his request in her blue eyes.

  “Please? I need…this is about Kendall. I know you don’t give a fuck about her anymore but…” He heaved in a breath and held up his hand, wiggling the finger where his wedding band still sat. “I’ve met someone else. She looks so much like you that I feel like a pervert for even thinking of taking her out, although we’ve talked several times on the telephone.”

  Emily seemed so interesting. Almost too good to be true. She was educated, kind, funny, and witty.

  “Can we go to the creek?” he pressed. “It’s private. I’ll stop and buy a few snacks and some wine.”

  “I’m going to tell Christopher I’m with you and where we’re at.” She flushed and glanced away. “Go ahead and accuse me of not being able to keep anything from my husband.”

  “I’ve said so many horrible things to you, Megan,” he told her, wishing she’d look at him again. No eyes on God’s green earth were as blue as hers. Yet he no longer felt the wistfulness he once had in her company. “He’s your husband and you have every right to share with him. I was just a jealous, petty jerk.”

  Finally, she looked at him. “You’ve admitted as much before. It hasn’t changed anything. You still border between love and hate for me and Kendall, and cross the line so many times, your head spins, so I can only imagine what it does to your wife.”

  “I told Kendall we’re over.” The words came easy; the thought did not. Following through would be hell.

  She studied him a moment, then stood. “Let’s meet at the creek in an hour.”

  At that moment, he realized she’d travel alone, but instead of stopping her departure, he decided to hurry to the nearest supermarket, and purchase items for their impromptu picnic.

  Arriving at the creek, he found her already sitting under a tree, looking out over the water.

  “Memories?”

  Her hand flew to her stomach. “You startled me.”

  He sat beside her, setting the grocery bag next to him. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

  Her gaze returned to the water. “It seems like another lifetime when I was homeless and living out here.”

  “It does for me, too. Life seemed simpler, then.”

  She sidled a glance at him. “Your life,” she said softly. “Mine was hell.”

  Because of Thomas Nicholls, her fuckhead stepfather.

  “Do you ever think about death, Johnnie?”

  The question, so far off-topic, came out of the blue, and sent his guard up.

  “Specifically, dying,” she amended.

  “At times.”

  “I got my happily-ever-after when I was eighteen. My soul mate. My beautiful children. Did I experience all this so early because I’m going to die young? One day, my luck will run out.”

  “No, sweetheart.” If that day ever came, life would be unbearable. “You’re the club’s good luck charm.”

  “So you’ve said before.”

  “The club was in shambles. Christopher was a wreck. I was drifting. Mort wanted vengeance. Digger didn’t know his place. Val was pining away for Zoann. Stretch was hiding in the closet. Cash was on the fringes of life. Club members didn’t know if they wanted Christopher to lead or Snake or someone else. You fixed that. You made it right.”

  She hung her head. “Then, maybe, if that’s truly the case, that’s my destiny fulfilled. I disagree with you, by the way. None of you needed me to do anything. You would’ve worked things out.”

  “Would we have?” he countered. “We were looking to Christopher, who was devastated over Big Joe’s death and the fact that he killed him. He was broken. We were all broken.”

  She drew her knees up and rested her cheek there.

  “What’s going on, Megs?”

  Her smile grew wistful. “Megs?” she whispered. “It’s been years since you’ve called me that.”

  “That was my special name for you. You were my friend. Maybe, I saw you—see you—as my best friend. I know I’m not in love with you anymore.”

  “You need to tell Kendall. Show her. As for me being your best friend, that isn’t true.”

  He leaned against the trunk of the tree. “It is.” He’d given this a lot of thought since meeting Emily. “I love Christopher. I admire him. All the guys, but you’ve always done for me what Roxanne does for everyone else. You listen to me. You counsel me. You advise me.”

  “That may be so, but you don’t take my advice. Otherwise, you and Kendall would still be together.”

  “And you defend both me and my wife,” he continued, as though she hadn’t spoken. “Even now, when neither of us deserve it. You’re my best friend, Megan.”

  “Christopher is mine,” she said without hesitation.

  “I know. I wish Kendall was that to me.”

  “That works both ways. You just admitted I’m your best friend. A fact you never hid. How do you think that made Kendall feel?”

  “She’s so—”

  Lifting her head, Megan raised her hand. “Stop right there. She was so whatever for as long as you’ve known her. That’s who you fell in love with. You never gave her a break or a real chance.”

  “Do you think I’m responsible for her current state?” From time to time that thought plagued him. Sometimes, it kept him awake at night.

  “The short answer? Yes. The long answer is complicated. She lost her father at an early age. From what I understand, he was the only one to show her real, true love. Her mother mocked her and preferred suicide over staying alive for Kendall. Spoon kept her prisoner and abused her. Cut off her hair. Made her lose your first child. Charlotte is an evil witch, but she was the first woman to show Kendall any maternal care before Roxy. You valued me over her. Christopher despises her. Then there were those girls from her middle and high school days. Emily Riser or whatever, who looked just like me, so, of course I triggered her at every turn. And Logan…”

  Megan’s voice faded into white noise. The creek became just a black hole, while his surroundings dimmed and his head pounded.

  Emily.

  Johnnie wondered how he’d “accidentally” ran into a woman who was almost Megan’s spitting image. Suddenly, he knew.

  How dare Christopher!

  How fucking dare he? It was one thing for Johnnie to divorce Kendall and find another woman. But it became a different beast when Christopher played such a heavy hand in it.

  “Johnnie?”

  Megan’s voice reached through his blazing anger.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What do you know about Emily?”

  Megan shrugged. “Not much. Just that she was Kendall’s nemesis i
n high school and that has had a major effect on her entire life.”

  “Suppose I told you I’d met her? That she was the Emily I’m thinking of taking out?”

  Her brows lifted. “Wow, that’s quite a coinci…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes widened. She groaned. “I’m going to talk to him.”

  “Why?” he snarled. “Do you know what my dating that bitch would do to Kendall? What kind of a low-down motherfucker is Christopher? That would drive Kendall over the edge! Is he fucking crazy?”

  “Do not rage on my husband because you’re a jackass,” she spat. “What is wrong with him? What is wrong with you? He obviously knows you well enough to know that all you had to do was glance at someone who looks like me and nothing else would matter! Not Kendall. Not your marriage. Not anything, moron.”

  “Fuck you, Megan.”

  Megan jumped to her feet. Before she kicked him in the face, Johnnie stood, too.

  “Go to hell,” she blazed. “You know what’s pathetic? Kendall would tell you to sleep with her to get me out of your system! How crazy is that? Yet, you two, impossible as it may seem, love each other. My husband isn’t crazy. You are and you’ve driven Kendall mad.”

  Furious, he kicked the bag containing their food and drinks. “I should shake the fuck out of you for telling me that bullshit.”

  “It’s true,” she said, not backing down. “Back away from Christopher. He shot you once. He’ll kill you the next time. Do I want to see that happen? No. But I do want you to stop blaming him, me, and even Kendall for your actions. Yes, Kendall has a mental illness but you made her so much worse. You didn’t give her the respect she deserved as your wife. You taunted her with me. What did you think that would do? Make her into the woman you thought you wanted? A housewife? An old lady? A stay-at-home mom? Kendall. Is. Not. Any. Of. Those. Things,” she gritted, punctuating each word by pounding her fist into her hand. “Grow up, Johnnie. Just grow up. Don’t be angry with Christopher because you saw Emily and had some type of…of mega-erection or something.”

  “Drop this goddamn subject, or else,” he warned, stomping back the laughter he felt at Megan’s description. Mega-erection? Where the fuck would she get that from?

  “My God, I am so sick of you. Maybe, Christopher’s motives are a little suspect, but he seems to know you better than you know yourself.”

  “How would you feel if I brought Emily to the club, seeing that she looks just like you?”

  “Shouldn’t you be worried about how Kendall will feel if she found out that you brought her arch-enemy around?”

  “They’re grown women. I’m sure they’ve left that in the past.”

  “If you came here seeking my approval to go out with Emily, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  All the fight left him and he sagged, exhausted from the emotional turmoil. “Kendall is driving me insane. She had no right to touch CJ. Or to fight you. Or any of the shit she’s done, Megan. I want to be happy.”

  “She wants to be happy. You both deserve it.”

  “I love her.”

  “That isn’t enough. You have to respect her. Protect her. Confide in her. Make her first in your life. Kendall needs a strong man. Someone she can lean on. Someone to hold her up during her dark days. Someone to set her straight. You can be that man. You are that man. When I first met you, the only thing that distinguished you from Christopher, was your lightheartedness. You’re both beautiful. You’re both dangerous. And you’re both charming and loyal. I chose him because I fell in love with him not long after I met him. Not because you were less. Not because you were lacking. I chose him because he had my heart and soul.”

  For so many years, he’d wondered exactly why she’d chosen Christopher over him. He’d asked her on several occasions, but the answers must not have registered. Today, though, her words touched something in him.

  “Do you think there’s a chance for Kendall and me to reconcile?”

  “I can’t answer that. All I know is the past few weeks have been so rough on relationships. You and Kendall seem to have irreconcilable differences and now Knox and Roxy…” She paused and looked away. “It’s just been hard,” she mumbled.

  He recalled her earlier morbidity. “It seems so. With you thinking about death. Where did that come from?”

  “I’ve been thinking about another baby,” she confessed. Another glance at the ground alerted him to her second lie of the day. “I want to have it. For some reason, I’m scared something is going to happen to me this time.” She looked at her watch. “I have to get home to start dinner, Johnnie.” As she walked away, she paused and hesitated, before turning to him and standing on her tiptoes.

  He bent and she kissed his cheek. “You have hard decisions to make, but I have every faith in you that you will choose the correct path. You’re a strong, honorable man and we all love you.”

  She gave him a last smile, then continued on her way, not realizing, with her words, a burden lifted from Johnnie’s shoulders.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Slouching back on her torn leather couch, Emily sipped her morning coffee as she took in her favorite program on the new, big screen TV she’d purchased with some of the money Outlaw had given her. Shopping for, and dressing in, the type of designer clothes she’d once worn had been a balm to her soul.

  Now her expensive wardrobe brightened up her rundown apartment, located in a dangerous part of town that saw its fair share of crime. Sometimes, she worried about some asshole breaking in and stealing her high-end stuff before she used everything. So far, she’d only gotten to dress up in her new duds one time, since they’d been purchased, the day she met Johnnie. Though they talked every day, he still hadn’t asked her out.

  She frowned at the screen, not liking the turn in the program’s plot.

  “No!” she yelled. One of her favorite characters was almost taken out by an invading alien. She straightened and growled in frustration at a particularly ignorant decision. “How fucking stupid!”

  At a critical moment of a character’s decision, her thin door vibrated with a loud knock. Resentful at the interruption, she cut her eyes away from the TV. Fifteen seconds hadn’t passed before the knock came again.

  “What?” she screeched. “What?” If it was Miller coming for a dick suck, she’d give him one or two bites to the nuts.

  Jumping up from the sofa as the show cut to a commercial, Emily stomped to the door and threw it open. And froze.

  “What are you—”

  Johnnie brushed passed her before she got the words out.

  She almost threw an army of profanities at him, until she remembered Knox Harrington and Outlaw’s instructions. Johnnie needed a “demure” woman to get him away from Kendall. Breathing in deep and cursing to herself, she just managed not to slam the door shut.

  Pasting a smile on her face, she turned to him. “What brings you to my place?” she asked his back, since he stood in her living room/bedroom, facing away from her. His rockers stared at her. The grim reaper in the center of his cut, scythe dripping blood, chilled her.

  She shoved aside her reservations, tossed her hair, and marched to her prey. She touched his bicep, tense and taut beneath her fingertips.

  “Hey,” she said softly, part of the old Emily—the rich girl she had once been—surfacing. “Would you like a refreshment?”

  He shifted and glared down at her. The cold edge to his silver eyes made them seem pale and frozen. Dropping her hand, Emily stepped back.

  A twisted grin gathered at his mouth. “Aren’t you curious about how I got your address?” he purred.

  He seemed a little…off. Off his rocker. Off kilter. Off something that Emily neither liked nor trusted. Grabbing her remote and flicking her TV off, she threw it aside and started away, her intentions to put the sofa between them.

  He was quick, though. In an instant, he grabbed her shoulder and pressed a gun between her eyes.

  “You’re her,” he snarled.

  “Her
who?” she squeaked, shocked and afraid. He seemed ready to pull the trigger.

  “Emily,” he gritted. “Riser. The cunt who tortured Kendall.”

  Her nostrils flared. It crossed her mind to deny the accusation, but he cocked the trigger, scaring her into silence.

  “Chris…” His voice trailed off and he thought a moment. “Outlaw hired you, yes?”

  She should confess all. However, if she managed to survive, she didn’t want Outlaw’s wrath. He was the one who’d given her the money. Money turned men into murderers.

  “No, Johnnie.”

  Dropping her arm, he grabbed her throat and squeezed, shaking her. His other hand remained steady as he kept the barrel of the gun between her eyes. “You’re a fucking liar, you little cunt. Where do you think I got your fucking address from?”

  The suffocating pressure on her throat made her grab his wrists. “Please,” she gasped out. “Please, don’t kill me.”

  “Then answer me,” he snarled.

  For the first time in years, she truly feared losing her life at the hands of this cold, furious killer. Whatever else he might be, she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. All because of Kendall.

  God, how Emily hated her. Kendall had told the truth. Johnnie loved that bitch.

  Tears rushed to her eyes, not all of them fake. “Please, I can explain,” she said in a tremulous whisper. She sniffled, hoping to snap him into remembering that Emily resembled another woman he loved or wanted to fuck.

  He stared into her eyes, looked at every angle of her face, her hair, her lips. She licked them, determined to keep his attention on the side of her he liked. She needed to meet Megan Caldwell to better affect her mannerisms, to always have the upper hand with Johnnie.

  The pressure at her throat lightened. “Johnnie,” she whispered.

  He gazed upon her as if he was seeing her for the first time, then shoved her away. Her knees hit the edge of the sofa and she fell onto the seat.

  “Start talking,” he ordered.

  “I-I don’t know Outlaw,” she lied, her thoughts tripping into each other to give answers that would appease Johnnie and Outlaw, and most importantly, keep herself alive. “I-I-I…” Her voice trailed off. His question hit her full force. “Knox H-Harrington must’ve given you my address,” she stammered.