Misrule

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Misrule Page 51

by Kelly, Kathryn C.


  Intimidated, Knox stared at the bike. Outlaw had made it look so easy and smooth. The man rode with a fluidity that impressed Knox and also told him he didn’t have the qualifications to do the same.

  The sound of sudden silence drew his attention.

  Folding his arms, Mortician sighed. “I got a fucking joke for you.”

  Knox swallowed, then nodded, for the first time feeling as if he fought a losing battle. If he got on the bike, he’d fall and they’d laugh at him.

  “God called Satan and told him he had some motherfuckers that just wasn’t acting like they belonged in Heaven,” Mortician started. “He told Satan he had to send them to Hell. Having no choice, Satan told God to send them on. So the motherfuckers get there. They immediately start acting the fuck up. After a week, Satan calls God and says, “God, I got to send these motherfuckers back. They complaining about the living conditions down here. Stirring unrest among all the other motherfuckers. God said, ‘Satan, I sent them to you for a reason. They’re your problem. You deal with them’. Annoyed, the devil hung up the fucking phone. The next week, Satan telephoned God again. ‘Lord, you got to help me. The people you sent to me have been stealing from me. Some of my gold is missing. My coin collection gone. What am I supposed to do? Again, God said, Devil, you’re in charge of them. They are your problem. Frustrated, Lucifer hung up the phone. The next week, that old pitchfork-wielding bastard had had enough. God had to take these people back now. Furious, he dialed God’s number. ‘Yes, Devil, what can I do for you this week’? ‘God!’ Satan screeched. “I’m not keeping them any longer. These motherfuckers just put out my fire.”

  Chuckles rose up around him. Knox didn’t want to laugh, but he did at the unexpected punchline. None of them, not even Cam, seemed affected by the disrespect of it all. They found humor wherever, and whenever, they could.

  “See, Knox?” Outlaw offered into the silence, smoking yet again. “It ain’t nothin’ but a thing. If you wanna learn to ride a fuckin’ bike, take a deep fuckin’ breath and learn. We was all scared our first time. You got unmatchable power between your thighs—and I ain’t talkin’ cocks cuz that shit a given. A bike, the road, un-fuckin-forgivin’. You gotta pay attention, but you still gotta have fuckin’ fun. We ain’t here to judge you. We here to fuckin’ help you. How many fuckin’ times I gotta tell you that?”

  “Knox, son, it’s like this. I see what you doing to win my momma-in-law back. I respect that. I also realize you just talk out the side of your goddamn mouth because you don’t know how to back the fuck down. But Roxanne—”

  “Knox!” As if speaking her name conjured her up, Roxanne ran at breakneck speed from the pathway that led to the houses. She skidded to a halt, out-of-breath.

  “Roxanne, baby, what’s the matter?” he asked, alarmed at her condition. He rushed to her, automatically wrapping her in his arms when she hugged him. “What’s happened?”

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, pushing away from him. “You’re going to kill yourself! Why the fuck would you buy a bike?”

  Keeping Roxanne in his arms, Knox glared at the circle of men. “Who betrayed me?” No one responded, so he turned back to Roxanne and took her face between his hands. “You weren’t supposed to find out until after I learned.”

  “Oh, Knox. Don’t do this for me. I don’t want you to learn to ride a bike to impress me. It’s not about that. It’s about your attitude.”

  “Roxanne, please,” he begged. “I love you so much. Please…just…” He huffed in a breath, close to tears. “I want to be able to drive—”

  Outlaw growled.

  “Er ride you around every now and then. I want to make you happy. If you just…please, just give me a chance.”

  She laughed through her tears. “You’re such a motherfucker, Knox.”

  He smiled at her. “But I’m a motherfucker you love.”

  Not denying it, she glanced away.

  “Can we just talk? Please.”

  She met his gaze. “Okay. We can talk. But I’m making no promises.”

  “Fair enough, sweetheart.”

  Wrapping his arm around Roxanne’s waist, he smiled at the claps and whistles. Maybe, he’d learn to ride, after all, finally understanding the camaraderie and brotherhood that made these men so close.

  That could be decided on later. Right now, he’d seize the chance Roxanne was giving him. All because he was willing to learn to ride a motorcycle. He couldn’t wait to see what she’d do when he showed off the outlines of his tats.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  When Cam called her and then Digger texted her, Roxy knew she had to take action. Knox was on a suicide mission to learn how to ride a motorcycle. According to Cam and Digger, he was doing it to win her back. Knox was a lot of things, but she’d never taken him for a brainless motherfucker. He couldn’t seem to understand, it was what was inside of him that mattered.

  They walked back to her house in silence, although he kept his arm around her waist. Overcome with relief that he hadn’t broken his head, she didn’t move out of his embrace. Besides, his touch felt so good. She wanted to enjoy it while she could.

  Inside, he closed and locked the door, turned and grabbed her wrists, pulling her close to him. He took possession of her mouth, consuming her, his taste and scent surrounding her. The rough, desperate kiss barely allowed her to catch her breath. She wanted to give in to him and her own need. Then, the harsh words he’d spoken to her pierced her thoughts, bursting her moment of weakness.

  Yanking herself away from him, Roxy stumbled back. All the hurt and humiliation she’d felt flew away. Anger replaced it. She narrowed her eyes and balled her fists, punching his jaw before she stopped herself.

  “You motherfucker,” she snarled, kicking his shin. “Why the fuck did you say all those things to me? How could you fix your month to insult me the way you did?” She shoved him back and he slammed into the door. She tried to knee his dick, but he blocked her, then sidestepped her next advance. “Your fucked-up words isn’t the way to solve a motherfucking thing.”

  Grabbing a glass from the counter, she threw it at him.

  He ducked. “This is the fucking way to solve shit?” he yelled, twisting backwards and crunching over the broken glass to escape her.

  “If you would just leave me the fuck alone! Let me get on with my fucking life, I wouldn’t want to kick your cock into your throat.”

  “Um, ouch?”

  She growled and took a step toward him, but he ran outside.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you, Roxanne?” he said, only his fingers showing where he gripped the door, to hold it open. “This is too womanish for you. You don’t throw shit.”

  “What the fuck do you mean too womanish? I haven’t suddenly grown a fucking dick, asshole.”

  He raised his palm. “That came out wrong. I just meant—”

  “I don’t throw shit,” she snapped. “I’ve never had occasion to throw shit at you. I want to bust your fucking head open and hug you; break your fucking face and love you.”

  Her voice trembled as hurt rose inside of her again. A sob escaped her. And another, until she broke down completely.

  Knox peeped inside.

  “Go away. I’ve decided there’s nothing for us to discuss.”

  Being the stubborn motherfucker that he was, he walked back into the house and closed the door, leaning against it. The pain on his face didn’t escape her.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you just give me another chance. I’ll live at the club until the wedding. I’ll do anything. Please forgive me. Please, Roxanne.”

  She felt her resistance crumbling. He sounded so humble and sincere. If she followed her heart, she’d let her guard down and let him back into her life. But, if she listened to her head—recalled the times she’d been let down in a relationship—she’d insist he leave and be done with it.

  “You wouldn’t still have my ring o
n your finger if you didn’t feel something for me.”

  Sniffling, she held up her hand and glared at the ring. She pulled it off. “If your great-great grandparents had a happy fucking marriage, the motherfuckers cursed this ring for everyone else who wore it. Ever since I got this from you, our lives have been in fucking chaos.”

  Knox thrust his fingers through his hair. “Put it back on. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the jeweler together and find one especially for you.”

  “I’m not signing a fucking prenup. Unless you sign one for me.”

  He laughed. “What do you have—”

  Her narrowed gaze stopped him.

  “I don’t need your fucking money, Knox. Even if I didn’t have property in New Orleans and a little nest egg, I want for nothing because of these boys here.”

  “Okay.” Knox sounded chastened. “I’m sorry.”

  She licked her lips, studied the ring. Thought about Knox’s ugly words. He was fallible, a mere man. She didn’t hold grudges. It took too fucking much away from your soul, so she could let the argument go, accept his apology, and give him another chance.

  Her heart started to pound. The weight she’d carried around for days lifted. For the first time in weeks, her world felt right again. Drawing in a deep breath, she slid the ring back onto her finger.

  “One more chance, Knox. If you ever say anything like that to me again, we’re done.”

  He ran to her and lifted her into his arms, swinging her around and laughing through his tears.

  “I love you,” he said. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Knox. As much as I tried, I couldn’t stop my feelings for you.”

  Setting her on her feet, he bent and rained kisses on her face.

  “You’re not going to be sorry, Roxanne.”

  “I better not be,” she said as he nuzzled her neck.

  He lifted his head and pulled away from her. “I have to show you something, sweetheart.”

  She grinned. “I’m more than ready to see it.”

  “Not him,” he said with a chuckle, unbuttoning his shirt. “This.” He took the shirt off, revealing the black-ink outlines of a dragon that reached from shoulder-to-shoulder. On his arm were the makings of a full sleeve, although she wasn’t quite sure what it would be. He held up his hand and wiggled his ring finger. “I’m going to have my wedding ring tattooed here.”

  “Knox, you don’t have to do all of that.”

  He nodded. “I don’t but I want to. That’s the only way I can prove that I don’t look down on what you like.”

  “What am I going to do with you? You’re just too much!” she said, overcome with joy and happiness.

  He winked at her. “I’m enjoying myself spending time with the men. Val asks the stupidest questions. Outlaw is…Outlaw is the most logical person I’ve ever met. And Mortician likes to joke. They all have different ways to put you at ease. All unique to them.”

  Listening to his words, Roxy knew she’d made the right decision. He was finally taking the time to get to know each of the men.

  “If you want to learn to ride a motorcycle for yourself, then do it,” Roxy said, “but if you are doing it to impress me, you’ve got to stop. I don’t want you killing yourself.”

  He chuckled as his cell phone started to ring. “I want to learn for both of us,” he told her with certainty and answered the call. “This is Knox Harrington.”

  It must have been from a number he didn’t recognize.

  The color dropped from his face and he gasped. “I’ll be on the first flight on,” he breathed out, then disconnected the call.

  Roxy rushed to him and took his face between her hands. “What is it, Knox? What’s happened?”

  “It’s Callie,” he whispered.

  “Your ex-wife?”

  Knox nodded. “She’s been killed.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Staring out the window in the back of the Uber, thoughts of Callie ran through Knox’s head. They’d met and married young. Maybe, their marriage had been doomed from the start. Neither of them had known what the hell they were doing and, with a newborn added into the mix not long after, it was a recipe for disaster. She was spoiled and…he swallowed…so was he. They’d wanted things their way, neither of them knowing the definition of the word compromise. Trivial arguments that seemed so important to win had just been a reflection of their age. When his work on the force began to interfere with their marriage, Knox put her first. It hadn’t worked. They still ended up divorced. She’d taken Grant across the country to Boston, her hometown.

  “We’re here, sugar.” Roxanne’s quiet voice reached through Knox’s despair.

  He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it. “Thank you for coming with me.”

  She leaned in and gave him a tender kiss.

  Opening the door, Knox slid out and then helped Roxanne to her feet. He didn’t know how his former in-laws would receive him, but, for the moment, Grant was in their care. Other than the fact that Callie had been killed, Knox knew nothing else.

  Clasping Roxanne’s hand again, he walked up the steps and rang the doorbell. It didn’t take long for the door to swing open, revealing Callie’s mother.

  “Audra, I’m so sorry,” he said, releasing Roxanne and hugging the other woman. “What happened? How did she die?”

  Audra stepped aside. “Come in.” She noticed Roxanne and blinked. “I’m Audra,” she said after a moment.

  Roxanne held out her hand. “Roxanne.”

  “Come in, both of you,” Audra said after she shook Roxanne’s hand.

  He placed his hand at the small of Roxanne’s back; together, they walked in, following Audra to the living room, where a houseful of friends and relatives were gathered. He knew most of the people there and couldn’t believe the circumstances under which he was seeing them. Seeing their grief seemed to increase his own, penetrating the shock he’d been living in for the past twenty-four hours.

  But he couldn’t give in to his feelings. He’d just won Roxanne back. How would she feel if she saw him crying over his ex-wife’s death?

  Roxanne squeezed his hand. “Knox,” she whispered. “Why don’t I go back to the hotel?”

  “I want you here,” he told her.

  “I’m here, sugar. But you don’t need me here. Grieve in peace, without thinking you’re hurting me.”

  She’d wanted to stay at the hotel in the first place. Knox should’ve known Callie’s family would be at this house.

  “Dad!” Grant cried, running into the room and barreling to Knox. His son sobbed in his arms. “Mom’s gone. Somebody shot her to death. It wasn’t a robbery or nothing. The police said she let her killer in. They took Mom from me.”

  “What?” Knox gasped, feeling as if he’d been sucker-punched. His thoughts ran together, not allowing him to focus on anything.

  “You’ve been listening, young man?” Audra said with disapproval.

  “I want Mom, Grandma,” Grant sobbed. “I just wanted to know where she was. When she was coming back.”

  Audra sighed, her eyes red-rimmed, her face haggard. “Go to your room,” she said kindly. “Some of the….you’re a little boy. It’s best for you not to hear what the adults are discussing.”

  “I don’t want to be in my room alone,” Grant said around tears.

  “I don’t mean to intrude,” Roxanne inserted, “but I can take Grant some—”

  Before she finished, Grant had rushed to her. She didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around him and offer words of comfort.

  “Can I go with Roxy, Dad?” Grant begged.

  Knox started, then met Audra’s gaze. Though she nodded, she sagged in despair. With Callie gone, Grant would come to live with Knox and Roxanne. He’d never cut Audra out of his son’s life—she was his grandmother—but Grant living anywhere else was out of the question. He’d contact his lawyer before the day was out.

  “Yes, son. You can go back to the hotel with Roxanne.�
��

  Patting Knox’s back, she took Grant’s hand.” “Let’s call an Uber,” she said.

  “Okay,” he said, sounding hoarse and tired.

  Overwhelmed by the sheer gravity of the situation, Knox waited for his former in-laws to protest. He always expected the worst so he wouldn’t be surprised. No one said anything. Walking to Grant, he hugged his son, unsure of what to say or do. He stared at Roxanne, wordlessly asking for guidance.

  She gave him a tender, reassuring smile.

  “I’ll meet you two at the hotel,” he said, holding Grant close to him and then kissing his cheek.

  “Take your time, Knox,” Roxanne said. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

  Knox nodded. Fifteen minutes later, he ushered them into an Uber, kissing them both goodbye. Once the car drove away, he headed inside, wishing he could be any other place but here. His ex-wife had been murdered, though, and he intended to get the justice she deserved.

  “Is Mom in heaven?” Grant asked, tears lurking in his eyes, though he valiantly held them in.

  “Of course, sugar.”

  He picked up a French fry from his plate, then dropped it into the ketchup. “Will I see her again?”

  Roxy pushed her own plate aside. She’d barely touched any of her salad and should’ve followed her original plan of ordering coffee for herself from room service and whatever Grant decided upon. She was familiar with Boston and she was tired from the long flight. The last twenty-four hours had been sheer hell, watching Knox scramble to get to his son, consoling him over Callie’s death, and advising him to leave her behind. He needed her with him, he said. That was all Roxy needed to hear. Despite her reservations, she’d agreed to go.

 

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