She nodded.
“I want to see him,” Meggie said.
“Okay, baby. Lemme get your nurse and see what she say.”
“Okay.” She stopped him before he walked out. “Christopher?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I love you. Thank you for being such a good dad and the best husband a girl could ever have.”
“It’s all cuz of you, Megan,” he told her quietly.
She sniffled. “You’re my everything.”
“Just like you mine, baby,” he told her and walked out, leaving Meggie thankful to be alive and happy that her baby had survived.
Walking into Kendall’s room, Christopher felt like a pussy for the tears he’d almost shed when he’d found Megan with her ventilator gone. And her words to him touched his heart and soul. She was his heart and soul.
Megan had to wait a day before she saw Axel. She also needed pain meds because her throat was hurting. But she’d improved so much in just a matter of days that Christopher was grateful. Although she didn’t yet know about Kendall, he intended to tell her soon.
Right before Megan dozed off, he said he had a run to make, and kissed her bye. He’d gotten two miracles with the lives of Megan and Axel, so he decided to clear the air with Kendall.
Finding her asleep, he studied her. Without makeup and with all she’d been through, her face looked pulled-down, but harmless. Seeing her now made it hard to believe she’d been the bitch who’d gotten into more shit than he wanted to remember.
She shifted and groaned, opening her eyes. When she realized he stood next to her bed, she started then shrank back.
“Hey, Kendall,” he greeted.
“Hi,” she told him, wary.
Before he went on, Johnnie walked in and stopped. “I was trying to get here before you did, Christopher.”
He shrugged. “Under-fuckin-standable.”
“How’s Megan?”
“What’s wrong with Meggie?” Kendall asked.
“She gettin’ better, now,” Christopher said. Everyone had come to visit his girl by now, except her motherfucking guards. And now he knew why. “She been awake for three days. Finally able to breathe on her own. Axel fightin’ too.”
“Who’s Axel?” Kendall asked.
“Our new boy.”
“Meggie had another baby?” Shock was clear in Kendall’s voice.
“Yeah,” Christopher answered.
“I suppose you summoned me here so you can tell us together that Kendall won’t be welcomed back on club premises,” Johnnie guessed, looking as devastated as he sounded.
“Sit down, Johnnie,” Christopher ordered.
Without question, Johnnie complied.
“I’m not gettin’ into how I fuckin’ feel about you, Kendall,” Christopher started. “We all fuckin’ know. No matter how the fuck my ass been tryin’ these last coupla days, I still hate you.”
Johnnie shot to his feet. “Get the fuck out of here with that bullshit, Christopher. Kendall doesn’t need to be subjected to your torture. She’s too vulnerable.”
“Sit down, assfuck,” Christopher demanded with irritation, glaring in Johnnie’s direction until he sat down. “Just cuz I hate Kendall ain’t meanin’ you do. As a matter of fuckin’ fact, I ain’t ever realized how much you fuckin’ love her until she tried to fuck herself up.” Ignoring Johnnie’s glower, Christopher looked at Kendall. “If you ain’t made it, I ain’t too sure Johnnie wouldna shot the fuck outta himself. He love you and I love him, so I wanna get some shit straight with you.”
Kendall swallowed. “Wh-what?”
Looking from Johnnie to Kendall as he spoke, Christopher said, “My ass the motherfucker who set John Boy up to meet Emily. And you was right. The house was fuckin’ bugged.”
“How dare you, Christopher?” Johnnie snarled.
“Don’t fuckin’ start, Johnnie. You fuckin’ lucky Megan had Kendall on her goddamn No-Kill list. Otherwise, I wouldna went through all these goddamn games and woulda just shot the fuck outta her.”
“Christopher—”
Raising his hand, he indicated Johnnie shut the fuck up. “You want my ass to go through all the shit Kendall done that woulda got other motherfuckers fucked up sixteen times over? Do you?” he demanded when neither of them said a word. “Don’t lemme bring up my woman and my kid.”
“Your woman and kid?” Johnnie seethed. “What about mine? Do I have to overlook what they need because you’re so fucking determined that Megan be happy at everyone else’s expense?”
“How that shit new to you?” Christopher snapped. “Your ass should be fuckin’ happy cuz it’s cuz of Megan Kendall ain’t dead.”
“By your hand,” Johnnie spat.
“Directly by my hand,” Christopher supplied, wondering when this motherfucker would catch on.
Johnnie’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “What the fuck are you saying? You wanted Kendall to commit…” His voice trailed off and he stared at Christopher, shock, pain, and anger crossing his face. “You told me you weren’t seeking revenge,” he shouted. “You lied to me.”
“No the fuck I ain’t. I lied to Megan. I ain’t wanted her to discover the truth.”
“Get out,” Johnnie said coldly. “This is the last fucking straw. You’ve pushed me too fucking far. You claim you love me, yet you almost ruined my life because of your hatred for Kendall.”
“No, that’s fuckin’ because you a stupid motherfucker and she a dumb bitch.”
“Fuck off! I’m never going to forgive you.”
A sliver of hurt passed through Christopher, but he ignored it. The only person in the world who forgave him almost anything was his Megan. Just because he and Johnnie had always been so close, Christopher shouldn’t have expected the same from him.
He shrugged. “Your fuckin’ choice. As long as I got my girl, I got every-fuckin-thing I need.” He looked at Kendall, surprised to find she wasn’t giving him one of her bitchy glares. “Johnnie ain’t want nothin’ to do with Emily, Kendall. I was payin’ her to pressure him into startin’ something with her. He ain’t fucked her or nothin’. He love you. I hope you love his ass e-fuckin-nuff to straighten the fuck up.”
“I do,” she said quietly. “We…he’s committing me.”
“You goin’ back to a psycho camp?”
Johnnie growled.
Kendall nodded. “For at least six months. We’ll be working on our marriage and our parenting skills. We have a long road ahead of us. I hope we can make it through.”
Christopher shrugged.
“I knew…I knew you wouldn’t let my actions go unanswered,” Kendall admitted. “And I know you’re sorry.”
He paused. Kendall had such a fucked-up childhood, starting with her old man’s death. Her ma hadn’t liked her, and Emily had bullied her. He understood that, even sympathized with her. But Kendall blamed every-fucking-body for what happened to her, instead of pointing the fucking finger at the two motherfuckers that wreaked all the havoc. She made excuses, thought it was her fucking right, to do what the fuck she wanted to and not have fucking consequences. He was willing to let bygones be bygones and give her a fresh start—although he hoped Megan kept her distance. However, for all Kendall’s past sins and the way he’d addressed them…“Nope, I ain’t sorry for any-fuckin-thing I did to you. I re-fuckin-gret the emotional toll it took on John Boy.”
“How fucking kind of you,” Johnnie sneered.
Christopher ignored him and stayed focused on Kendall. “I hope now you get some fuckin’ help and behave.” How many fucking times had he said the same goddamn thing to her?
“Leave, Christopher,” Johnnie ordered.
“I understand you offended on behalf of your woman.”
“Oh, you admit she’s my woman now and not a cunt?”
“I’m about to fuckin’ call you the cunt, motherfucker,” Christopher barked.
Johnnie got to his feet and stalked to Christopher, standing nose-to-nose with him. “Emily�
�s dead, Christopher. I’ve already told Kendall, now I’m telling you. I killed her.”
“Why the fuck—?”
“Why?” Johnnie interrupted before Christopher got his full question out. “Because she spoofed my goddamn phone number and showed Kendall phony fucking texts. Not only that, Stretch found a to-do list to get to Megan and kill her!”
“What the fuck you said?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Johnnie snapped. “Emily’s games led my wife to try to take her life. Your fucking games.”
Annoyance rose in Christopher and a sense of anger that he hadn’t gotten his hands-on Emily. “Back the fuck up, John Boy. I don’t know why the fuck you so fuckin’ furious at my ass. I ain’t got a fuckin’ thing to apologize to neither of you motherfuckers for. Kendall got you fuckin’ shot. Knocked the fuck out. Maybe, if your fuckin’ ass knew how to handle her, my fuckin’ ass wouldna had to step the fuck in.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Johnnie spat.
“Nope. Even if you think my ass need to apologize for your woman tryna kill herself, I ain’t agreein’, so fuck you. You follow club rules. You stay the fuck outta club business if you not a member. You leave my woman in peace. You keep your fuckin’ hands off lil’ kids. Or you fuckin’ die. Case fuckin’ closed. That shit not new to you or your bitch, Johnnie.”
He drew himself up. For a moment, sadness replaced the anger, then he stiffened and glared at Christopher. “Leave,” he ordered again. “We don’t want you here.”
“Have it your fuckin’ way, motherfucker,” Christopher said, heading out. At the door, he stopped. “Ain’t botherin’ to threaten neither of you motherfuckers no more. All the fuck I can say is if Kendall fuck up a-fuckin-gain, run.”
With that, he walked away, not telling them if it ever came to that they had better hope, he never, ever fucking found them. If there ever was a next time, justice would be swift and decisive.
After summoning the members to emergency church, Christopher headed to the clubhouse. Johnnie’s presence surprised Christopher. He wondered if Johnnie was there to resign from the club, given his self-righteous indignation. Krag, Talbot, Webster, and Pete were there and that was the important thing.
“Ain’t keepin’ you motherfuckers long,” Christopher started after calling the meeting to order. “Any assfuck I choose to guard my woman got the fuckin’ right to decline. If you ain’t likin’ the position, you gonna make her miserable and that ain’t ever gonna fuckin’ fly.” He walked from behind the podium, and went to the table where those four motherfuckers sat. “I picked you motherfuckers cuz y’all old-timers. Knew Big Joe. Boss loved the fuck outta Megan, so I thought it woulda been a honor.”
Krag gave Christopher a half-smile. “We enjoy every moment we spend with your precious wife, Outlaw.”
Webster, Talbot, and Pete sniggered. Slipper wasn’t known to lie, but just the subtle hint of arrogance from the soon-to-be maggot chips told Christopher of the man’s truthfulness.
“Fuck, Prez,” Digger grumbled. “I got my good jeans on.”
“Is there a problem, Outlaw?” Krag asked calmly.
“Nope,” Christopher answered, drawing his nine with the hollows. “Not no more, motherfucker.”
He shot all four motherfuckers in the head, unaffected at the gushes of blood, or the ensuing silence. Sticking his gun back into the inside pocket of his cut, Christopher lit a cigarette and took a few puffs before he walked back to the podium, ignoring Digger’s scowl.
“When I come to you to watch my woman, de-fuckin-cide if you like livin’ with your brain in your head or outside the motherfucker.”
“You not surviving if you don’t have a brain in your head, Outlaw,” Digger protested.
“You sure, fool?” Mortician called. “You’ve done fine without one in your fucking head all these goddamn years.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Digger said, flipping the room at large off at all the laughter rising up.
“Get the dead motherfuckers outta here,” Christopher ordered.
“Where you want us to put them?” Val asked.
“Wherever the fuck you make those motherfuckers fit.”
“I got a new solution I want to try to see how effective it is to dissolve bodies,” Mortician said, lighting his own cigarette.
“You can use one of them for your experiment,” Johnnie added. “We had all our tools ready for Knox and never got to use them. I was a little disappointed.”
“In that case, John Boy, your ass welcome to move the motherfuckers,” Digger said. “I won’t get my good jeans ruined.”
“We got four dead motherfuckers,” Christopher said. “You four assfucks each move a body.”
“All we need is barrels rolled in here if we do it my way,” Mortician explained. “Stuff the motherfuckers in there, then roll the barrels to the meatshack. We don’t even have to bring them inside.”
Christopher shrugged. “Whatever the fuck you think best.” He turned to the other brothers, whose expressions ranged from completely fucking terrified to shook-up to indifference. “Meetin’ adjourned,” he announced, then headed to his bike, anxious to see his girl.
“Christopher?”
At Johnnie’s call, Christopher mounted his bike but didn’t start it.
Holding out his hand, Johnnie met Christopher’s gaze. “We’ve been a team our whole lives,” he began. “You’re my family. I can’t just turn away from you and pretend you don’t exist.”
Christopher smiled and slammed his hand into Johnnie’s, then drew him into a bear hug. “I love you, motherfucker.”
“I love you too, you fucking psycho stalker Wildman.”
Chuckling, Christopher started his bike, gave Johnnie a two-finger salute and sped off, acknowledging his relief that he and John Boy had cleared the air.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
After all the drama of the past three months—hateful sons, engagement rings with bad ju-ju, forced living arrangements, secret rendezvous, sadity bitches, low-down bitches, uppity bastards, scheming motherfuckers, stupid motherfuckers, larcenous priests, riding lessons, new tattoos, murder, suicide attempts, new engagement rings, and dangerous pregnancies—it all came down to this. The night before the wedding at the Harrington estate to enjoy the dinner after their rehearsal at Father Wilkins’ church.
Joan and Hal, Knox’s parents, hadn’t made the drive to Hortensia for the practice ceremony. Not that it surprised Roxy, although she knew Knox had been a little disappointed.
News crews and helicopters had dogged them from the clubhouse to the church and then to the mansion. Knox had seemed unfazed, but the attention had made Roxy more than a little nervous. She wasn’t used to such public scrutiny.
The street leading up to the gate where Harrington House was located—Roxy had just found out tonight the motherfucker had a name—had been blocked off with uniformed police officers only allowing residents and guests to the rehearsal dinner in. Because her momma and other two daughters were in town, Knox hired a limousine, so he could enjoy their company without the distraction of driving.
After a meeting, it was decided the entire family would have limousines, and divided the occupants by households—Caldwell, Donovan, Taylor, Banks, Banks, and, of course, Knox and Roxy’s.
Extra staff had been hired to direct the cars on where to turn to make it up the hill to reach the valet area. Butlers in gold and lavender had met them each step of the way as they were guided to the Grande Salon, where a flutist and pianist awaited them. The room was like a scene from a fairytale, where no expense had been spared. Hanging crystal and wisteria dripped from the ceilings. Each table had huge arrangements of white roses, pristine white tablecloths and gleaming crystal.
“We got to sit at different tables?” Val asked before Knox’s parents had a chance to welcome them.
“No the fuck we not,” Pearllene announced, leaning heavily on her cane as she crossed the room. “Come on, Rissa, Lex, let’s fix this shit.”
�
��Momma—” Roxy started, trying and failing to catch her mother’s hands.
Sniggering as her kin started pulling out chairs, Mortician, Digger, Outlaw, Val, and Johnnie joined them in ruining the setup.
“What are you people doing?” Joan screamed. “Stop this instant before I have you thrown out of my house.”
“Mother,” Knox called, then winked at Roxy, “it’s fine. I happen to agree with them. Come on, Cam.”
Shocked, Roxy watched as her man and his best friend joined the other guys to place the tables together in two rows of two. The beautiful arrangements were placed against one of the walls, out of the way.
“If I’d wanted it this way, I would’ve gotten long, rectangle tables,” Joan huffed.
“Dear, don’t worry yourself,” Hal advised. “Knox wants it this way.”
“Joan, I thought I heard your cry of distress,” Charlotte Redding announced, breezing into the room on Brooks’s arm.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Johnnie demanded. “I thought I told you to stay the fuck away.”
Joan lifted her chin. “Yes, well, considering this is my house, sir, I can invite whoever I want. Charlotte is my friend, therefore, she’s on my guest list.”
Narrowing his eyes, Johnnie drew his gun from his cut. “Not if I shoot the fuck out of her.”
“Johnnie!” Roxy yelled, rushing forward as Brooks jumped in front of his wife.
“Boy, what the fuck is your goddamn problem?” Pearllene demanded, hitting Johnnie on the side of the head with her purse.”
“Give me that shit, motherfucker,” Alexia demanded, yanking the gun from Johnnie’s hand. Her dyed blonde hair was outstanding against her milk chocolate skin.
Outlaw stepped forward and snatched the Glock away from Alexia. Once he emptied it of bullets, he slammed it against Johnnie’s chest.
“I ain’t allowin’ you to mar this fuckin’ dinner with fuckin’ brains and blood all over the fuckin’ place.”
“Yeah, Johnnie,” Digger said, waving Bunny over, having chosen his spot. “That would delay dinner and I’m hungry.”
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