“I miss her, Roxy. Who hurt her?”
Leaning forward in her dining chair, Roxy laid her hand on Grant’s arm. His muscles were taut, seeming to shake with the grief he felt. “You’ll always miss her, Grant, and yes, I believe you’ll see her again. I don’t know who hurt her, but I’m sure your dad will leave no stone unturned until he gets justice for her.”
“Mom didn’t want Dad to marry you. Am I mean for liking you anyway? I tried to tell Mom that you were really nice, but she wouldn’t listen. That’s why I was at Grandma’s. Mom was mad at me because I was talking about the wedding. We thought she was pouting when she didn’t answer. Do you think Mom still loved me?”
“You were the apple of Callie’s eyes.” Roxy had never talked to the woman personally, but whenever Grant visited, he was happy, well-adjusted, and boisterous. He spoke of the adventures he and his mom went on and of the places they visited. “You aren’t mean for liking me, Grant, although you’re young, so the situation is complicated. That just means your Mom still loved your Dad.” She squeezed his arm, then withdrew her hand. “He’s lovable like that.”
“Dad didn’t love Mom,” Grant guessed.
Roxy kept her wince to herself. This child was too young to have to go through this torment. Whoever the fuck had killed Callie needed to be dealt with by the bikers, instead of the law. “Yes, your father loved Callie,” she promised. “She was your mother, so she’d always be special to him. They just…they just couldn’t live together because they didn’t get along, so to keep liking one another, they separated. That way, they could be the best for themselves and as your mom and dad.”
Tears slipped down Grant’s cheeks. Her heart breaking for him, Roxy moved to the sofa and opened her arms. Without hesitation, he flew into them, settling on her lap and crying against her. When K-P had been killed, Bailey was already grown, and Roxy had been hundreds of miles away in New Orleans. However, she remembered the day her own father had died of cancer. As broken up as her mother had been, she’d still sang a couple of hymns to her, in an attempt to offer solace in an unimaginable time. Not knowing what else to do, Roxy rested her chin on Grant’s head, and rocked him, singing the words to Amazing Grace. It was one of the few Christian songs she knew.
After he cried himself to sleep, Roxy laid Grant on the sofa. Exhausted herself, she decided a nap would do her good. Stretching out on the chaise lounge, she closed her eyes and allowed sleep to claim her.
“Roxanne?”
Knox’s voice invaded her slumber and she stirred. Not satisfied, he shook her.
“Stop, fuck, Knox. Let me sleep.”
“Let’s go to the bedroom, sweetheart.”
“I’m fine where I’m at.”
“Grant is already settled in the guestroom. You need to be comfortable, too.”
Grumbling, she forced herself to awareness and sat up. “What time is it?” she asked around a yawn, allowing Knox to pull her to her feet and lead her to her bedroom.
“After one in the morning.”
“Fuck, how long have I been asleep?”
“What time did you go to sleep?”
“Fuck, I’m not sure. A couple of hours after we got back to the hotel.”
In the bedroom, Roxy plopped down and laid her head on the soft pillow.
“I’m ready to crash, too,” Knox said.
Rustling clothes told Roxy he was undressing.
“I’m bone-tired.”
He climbed into the other end of the bed and drew her into his arms, spooning her. “Thank you, Roxanne. Thank you for being so understanding. I was no longer in love with—”
“Stop, Knox.” Roxy changed positions, turning to face him. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. You still communicated with her because of Grant. She’s been a part of your life for many years.”
“I don’t want you to doubt my feelings for you. I don’t want you to think I’m putting her family’s feelings before yours.”
“Your interactions with other women have never made me question your regard for me. Your words have.”
“My actions never backed up my words, though.”
“We can discuss this at length at a later time. Right now, I want to set you straight. This isn’t about my feelings or your in-laws’ feelings. It’s about Grant. He needs to know who hurt his mother. I would expect no less from you. If I had a problem with it, I hope you would tell me to go fuck myself because that child is crushed. As his father, you do what you have to do.”
Knox’s nose reddened. His eyes looked suspiciously watery.
“Aww, sugar,” Roxy whispered, drawing close to him, “I know you’re hurt, too. It’s okay. We’re together, so I’m here for you. That means I’m all in. Grieve for her. Talk about her. Do what you need to do, Knox.”
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” he whispered. “Shot to death. The police have no leads. Who could’ve done this to her?”
“Dad?” Grant called.
Moving away from Knox, Roxy lifted her head and saw Grant standing in the doorway. “Come on, baby,” she said, patting the space she’d created in the middle of the bed, by moving over.
“You’re still dressed, Roxanne,” Knox observed, scooting over and helping his son slip in between the covers.
“I’m too fucking tired to change,” she explained, then lifted her hand up and stared at the engagement ring. She couldn’t believe she’d once thought it was pretty. It was the ugliest motherfucker she’d ever seen. It would go to Grant for him to give to whoever he chose as his life’s mate. If it was left up to Roxy, she’d throw this motherfucker in the deepest part of the ocean.
They hadn’t even gotten to the make-up sex before Knox had gotten the news about Callie. Afterwards, it had been all about contacting his parents and his son, and making travel plans. Whether or not their wedding would go forward was up in the air. However, it seemed in poor taste that Knox would marry Roxy only several months after the murder of his ex-wife and son’s mother. She might’ve been classless according to Duke, and her own behavior at times proved him right, but Roxy knew when to draw the line.
She sighed. “I’m going to tell Bailey that she and Mortician can still marry on August 6th of this year, but I’m pushing our wedding back to next year.”
“What?” Knox gasped. “No, Roxanne. Absolutely not.”
“We’re going to marry eventually,” she assured him. “We need to ride out this storm.”
“As husband and wife,” Knox insisted. “We’re having the double wedding as planned.”
“Dad smiles a lot with you,” Grant said in a solemn voice. “I want you to marry him so he can be happy.”
They both looked at her with expectation.
“How can I deny you two?” she said with a smile. “I suppose the double ceremony is back on.”
Knox and Grant high-fived. Together, the three of them settled in, and soon fell asleep, wrapped in their cocoon of love.
Too soon, they had to face Callie’s funeral and their final goodbye to her.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Johnnie had to know. He had to be sure that Christopher and Emily didn’t know one another. He had to be sure that he could try to give her a chance, although he still wrestled with the role Emily had played in Kendall’s life. He had no peace.
Emily bombarded him with calls and texts, while Kendall seemed to be withdrawing. It didn’t matter that she was still part of the wedding party, and participated in whatever planning sessions or fittings the women had. The more he tried to ignore Kendall, the more his conscious beat up on him. Both her mother and sister had killed themselves. What if Kendall’s behavior wasn’t a ploy but a true cry for help?
In the midst of his confusion over her, to Johnnie, Emily served as a distraction. Not necessarily welcomed, but one he needed.
In the weeks since their date, he’d seen her six times. She’d prepared home-cooked meals for him on three separate occasions. Unlike Kendall, Emily was a great cook. S
he didn’t mind evenings in. She longed for children and an easier life. Most of all, she seemed completely into him.
His lack of desire toward her wasn’t her fault. It was him. To counteract his tepid responses to her come-ons, he’d even stayed away from Kendall for the past few days. He hadn’t brought the kids to see her or responded to any of her calls and texts. He and Emily talked at least four times a day, and texted even more.
Johnnie was tired of the internal conflict. Every time he gave the smallest consideration to fucking Emily, he recoiled. She was part of the reason Kendall suffered so greatly to this day. He believed he stayed away from Kendall more out of guilt than blossoming feelings for Emily.
Tonight, though, he was going to Digger and Bunny’s house for their weekly dinner, and bringing Emily as his date. He wanted to see her next to Megan. He wanted to see Christopher’s reaction to having the two of them in the same room. Johnnie might be fed up with Kendall, and worried sick about her, but if Christopher wanted to play fucking games with Johnnie’s wife, then he’d return the favor.
“Do I look okay?” Emily asked nervously as they approached the cottage.
As brothers in the club, Johnnie, Christopher, Val, Mortician, Stretch, Digger, and Cash had much in common. Their love of riding, women, alcohol, money, and weed. As married men, the women they’d married defined their style.
Kendall was educated and loved the good life, so she’d chosen a two-story mansion for herself, Johnnie, and their kids. Zoann was no-nonsense and hardy, so her choice of an oversized log cabin for her family made sense. Bunny was down-to-earth and rather creative, fitting for the co-owner of an English-styled cottage. Ophelia went with the flow, and didn’t mind the bungalow Stretch wanted and Cash insisted upon. Bailey was quiet and elegant. Though Mortician was a stingy motherfucker, he wanted to give her the best.
And, Megan, Christopher’s heart and soul—the youngest of all their women—lived in a three-story fortress with a moat surrounding it.
Whether or not he and Kendall reconciled, in Johnnie’s heart, he knew there’d be no place for Emily in this tight-knit group.
“I must look a fright,” she said softly. “You haven’t said otherwise.”
Smiling, Johnnie forced himself to brush strands of her blonde hair behind her ear. “You look beautiful as usual,” he told her. He bent and brushed her lips with his.
Words, women, came so easily to him. And, yet, the only woman who’d ever blinded him to reality was Kendall. In his bones, he felt Emily was playing him. That’s why he needed to know, once and for all. He’d known and loved Christopher his entire life. Christopher had taught Johnnie so much. Especially fairness. In their world, fairness made the difference between life and death.
Emily glanced at him through her lashes. “We can always skip this part of our night.”
Not answering, Johnnie winked at her, then turned and opened the door. He stepped aside so Emily could walk in ahead of him. Once inside, he closed the door. Laughter and conversation floated to him. The smell of fried chicken and other savory foods scented the air.
Grabbing Emily’s hand, he headed to the family room, pausing in the doorway and forcing Emily to stop. The usual scene greeted him. The men around the bar with drinks and cigarettes. The women seated on the sofa, love seat, and chairs.
Knox stood next to Mortician, in deep conversation. After arriving from Boston with Grant, Knox had settled himself at the clubhouse, happy to go along with Mortician’s rules. At first, Grant stuck to his father’s side when he wasn’t in school, not even wanting to visit Knox’s parents. Usually, Grant returned to the clubhouse from school and went to Knox’s room. On the rare days he was at work and couldn’t pick Grant up himself, Knox always called to check on the kid. Gradually, Roxanne coaxed the boy out of the room in the evenings to help her cook. As the school year drew to a close, and Knox continued to learn how to ride, Grant acclimated himself to his new normal. The bikers and their sons embraced him, while the old ladies offered him the maternal love he needed.
Johnnie had overheard Roxanne explain to Grant that no one would ever take the place of his mother. For the first time, he’d understood Kendall’s adoration of the woman. She might’ve been interfering, but she was also wise and kind-hearted. Eventually, Grant moved into the second bedroom in Roxanne’s quarters.
Johnnie thought Knox would’ve decided to return to her place, too. Instead, he’d stayed at the clubhouse, getting to know the bikers, discussing bikes, tattoos, and alcohol, and reminding Johnnie what true love meant.
Megan walked through the door on the other side of the room, breaking into Johnnie’s ruminations. She froze, narrowed her eyes, and pressed her swollen hands against her rounded belly.
He really didn’t think she was so far along that she should have such a noticeable bump.
“John Boy, what the fuck you got her here with you, motherfucker?” Christopher demanded, following the direction of Megan’s gaze.
Conversation screeched to a halt and everyone stared in Johnnie and Emily’s direction.
“Good evening, everyone.” Johnnie nodded to the room at large but kept his focus on Megan. “This is Emily. My date for the evening. We’re stopping in for a drink before we go on our date.”
“Your children are here,” Roxanne said with disapproval. “Why bring another woman around them when you’re still married to their mother?”
Megan cocked her head to the side. “Emily?” she said, ignoring Roxanne’s comment. “Emily?” Megan repeated again, glancing between him and Emily before sidling a glare at Christopher.
“What the fuck, baby? Why the fuck you look at my fuckin’ ass like that? I ain’t told this motherfucker to bring no new bitch here.”
“That’s Emily,” Megan snapped.
Emily stepped up. “Is there something wrong with my name?” she asked with a slight edge to her voice.
Folding her arms, Megan glowered at Christopher again, before meeting Emily’s gaze. “It can’t be a coincidence that your name is Emily and you look so much like me. I’ve heard about Emily Riser for years now and if my guess is correct, you are her.”
“Wait?” Roxanne got to her feet. “You mean the bitch who gave Kendall such a rough fucking time? That Emily?”
“One and the same,” Emily confirmed.
“Oh, my fucking God, asshole,” Zoann spat, staring at Johnnie. “Kendall needs to grow a fucking brain, but it seems as if you need to as well.”
“Johnnie, that’s low,” Fee said in disapproval.
Johnnie tuned all of them out. Taking Emily’s hand again, he led her to where Megan stood. Anger washed over Megan’s face, turned her blue eyes to ice.
She’d changed since her kidnapping, but he supposed the psychological effects of such a violation was unavoidable.
Side-by-side, he saw that Emily was slightly taller and had a fuller figure than Megan. Comparison seemed inevitable. For so many years, Emily had haunted Kendall and poisoned her interaction with Megan because of their resemblance.
Still, Emily’s hair was a darker blonde, her skin paler, her eyes duller and slightly smaller. She had a bigger nose than Megan, a rounder face. More than that, though, Emily wasn’t Megan. And Megan wasn’t Kendall.
He no longer fantasized about making love to Megan. Now he knew, he’d never feel even an inkling of passion for Emily. Looking at Megan, Johnnie realized he could forgive her anything. She was his sister-in-law, and his friend. Emily was nothing to him. He’d never forget her years of abusing Kendall. He’d never get over his mistrust that she’d somehow been brought in specifically to fuck with Kendall. It didn’t matter whether Christopher confessed or not. Or if he’d truly hired Emily.
Johnnie couldn’t betray Kendall in such a manner. He loved her, and he preferred a lifetime of loneliness than to get involved with a woman who’d been so detrimental to her peace of mind.
“How did you even meet this woman?” Zoann demanded.
“Hold o
n,” Knox called. The shock of his ex-wife’s death had affected him for days.
Johnnie admired Roxanne for the way she’d given Knox room to grieve for Callie’s violent death.
“You ladies are being completely unfair,” Knox stated. “Kendall and this lady were little girls when all that went on. Johnnie and Kendall are separated,” he said flatly. “Do you expect him to stay a monk the rest of his life?”
“No! Fuck no, Knox,” Roxanne answered. “But Johnnie and Kendall aren’t even legally separated yet. He could give her enough respect to not bring another woman around her kids and her family.”
“I’m with Knox,” Cash offered. “It won’t matter who Johnnie brings around. There will always be an issue because she isn’t Kendall.”
“All Kendall ever did was stir up shit, Puff,” Val said, eyeing Zoann. “Now your ass on your shoulder because Johnnie brought a new bitch around.”
“Of course not, Val,” Zoann chirped with a sniff. “It’s who the bitch is.”
“So much for female empowerment,” Emily said with sarcasm.
Zoann lifted a brow. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“No. Just talking about me,” Emily shot back.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Emily?” Fee demanded. “How could you treat Kendall so cruelly?”
Johnnie registered Emily’s hostility and distaste a moment before she grimaced and replaced the fleeting looks with remorse.
“I don’t have to answer to any of you,” Emily said. “If Johnnie has no problem with me, then none of you have anything to say. But, of course, I always did get along better with men. Women have forever been jealous of my overwhelming beauty.” She sidled to Johnnie, wrapped her arms around him, and grinded her body against him.
“How long will Johnnie be okay with you?” Zoann questioned. “What will he tell his children when they find out their stepmother is the bitch who bullied their mother?”
“As if you really give a fuck, Zoann,” Johnnie snapped. “You gave Kendall so much bullshit and never attempted to befriend her. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite and pretend you’re so concerned about her feelings now.”
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