An Outlaw Valentine

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An Outlaw Valentine Page 5

by Kathryn Kelly


  The fog was lifting from Johnnie’s head, and the nausea was lessening. Relieved to feel marginally better, he got to his feet and frowned at Christopher. “Megan controls you. If you do something she doesn’t like, it’s pussy lockout time.”

  “And your fuckin’ point?” Christopher asked. “She ain’t no fuckin’ puppet. Sometimes, my ass a dumb motherfucker and she gotta punish me in some fuckin’ way.”

  “Outlaw, brah, how you be such a cold-blooded motherfucker when you dealing with motherfuckers but just a plate of putty when it come to Meggie?” Digger asked. “That shit one of the mysteries of the world.”

  “Know how, Digger?” Christopher asked with a smirk.

  “I must not. I wouldn’t have asked you if I did.”

  Christopher narrowed his eyes.

  “I’m just joking with you, Prez. You said as long as it’s just us, it’s okay,” Digger said quickly.

  “You right, but if you keep fuckin’ pushin’ it, Ima eat all those cookies Megan keep on the counter for you.”

  “You a heartless human, Outlaw,” Digger complained. “You don’t have to stoop that low.”

  Christopher shrugged. “I’m putty for Megan cuz I’m one pussified motherfucker. Pussy-whipped,” he clarified, then glared at Johnnie. “Megan love the fuck outta me. Ain’t doin’ nothin’ to fuck that up.”

  “I’m right with you, Prez,” Mort added.

  “Me, too,” Val said.

  Digger raised his hand. “Me, three.”

  “Good for you,” Johnnie said with a little clap. “Luckily for me, Kendall doesn’t want me to pussify myself. She likes me for the strong man I am.” He saluted them. “Now, you poor bastards, I’m going to spend the rest of my day high off Kendall’s sweetness.”

  Before any of them responded, Johnnie sauntered away, a satisfied grin on his face.

  One Week Later…

  “Here.”

  The sound of Kendall’s voice snapped Meggie out of her thoughts. She took the notarized document from Kendall, read over it, then set it aside. Soon, it would be time for her to leave her home office and head to the kitchen to start dinner.

  “Meggie, do you know I’m actually a Caldwell, and not a Donovan?”

  “Um, yeah, Kendall. I do. What’s your point?”

  Kendall stood from the hand carved chair that matched her ladies’ antique writing desk. Since Meggie handled all the paperwork and processed the payments for the home healthcare business she co-owned with Kendall and Zoann, Kendall decided she’d have her own office space here, instead of at her own residence.

  There were barely any legal documents the company needed on a day-to-day basis. No wonder Kendall was growing restless. Therefore, Meggie overlooked the Boss Lady sign on Kendall’s pretty desk. If that’s what it took to keep her happy, it was a small price to pay.

  “I’m going to tell Johnnie he should change his name from Donovan to Caldwell,” Kendall went on, ignoring how uninterested Meggie was about this subject.

  Kendall leaned against Meggie’s desk, an L-shaped piece with a hutch and file cabinets. Unlike Kendall’s high-end laptop, Meggie worked on a desktop with two separate screens. Sometimes, she’d have to be in her medical coding program while talking to an insurance company and taking notes.

  “Kendall Caldwell has an excellent ring to it.”

  Kendall wouldn’t drop this until Meggie engaged, so she decided to respond.

  “Johnnie grew up with the name Donovan,” she pointed out. “After all these years, I think it might be weird for him to start calling himself Caldwell. Donovan’s his legal name, which means that’s your legal name and your kids’, too. But whatever floats your boat.”

  “You don’t understand. I knew you wouldn’t.”

  Meggie yawned. “Of course, I understand. Cee Cee Caldwell was Christopher and Johnnie’s father. Biologically, they are Caldwells. Legally, only Christopher is.”

  “That’s my point! I want the name Christopher has.”

  Meggie snapped her brows together, suddenly on alert. “Really, Kendall?”

  “Oh, grow up,” Kendall snapped. “Not in the way you’re thinking. I want the name for Johnnie. He should use his rightful name.”

  “That’s up to Johnnie to decide. However, since he’s kept the name, that should clue you in to his intentions to remain a Donovan.” Meggie scowled, folded her arms and tapped her foot in agitation. “Sebastian Caldwell was a pig and an ass. Christopher doesn’t even want his name. I’m surprised you would. In Hortensia, the Donovan name has more prestige than Caldwell.”

  Kendall smirked. “Are you casting aspersions on your husband?”

  “To my husband, the name Caldwell is an abomination. What I said has nothing to do with demeaning Christopher, so stop twisting my words. Anyway, who cares what their last names are? I have Christopher and that’s all that matters. I don’t give a flying feather about his surname.”

  “Yes, of course, you’re right, Meggie darling. I’ll forget I brought this up for now,” Kendall offered, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. “We all know you’ll suffer anything as long as you have Christopher and the twenty babies he’s given you.”

  “Enough, Kendall!” Meggie ordered, reaching the end of her patience. “Don’t start in on my husband. I have six children and you know it. By the way, the amount of kids I have with Christopher is my affair, not yours.”

  “Right, but you have five. Patrick was dead on arrival. You never got to be a mother to him, so he doesn’t count.”

  “Drop the subject of my son,” Meggie said tightly, swiveling to face her computer screen to shut it down. This conversation was over.

  “Oh my God, you have such tender fucking feelings. I’m sorry. Don’t get your tits all twisted because I’ve touched a nerve. You have five living children and one dead one. Better?”

  Meggie stood from her seat and shoved her chair under her desk. “What is your problem?” she shouted, her heart pounding hard at the reminder of Patrick.

  She’d grieved deeply for him. Even now, at times, she felt twinges of sadness and a lot of guilt. If she hadn’t decided to go with Kendall, her son would be almost four, instead of laying alone in a tiny coffin. Her shenanigans had caused both of them to lose babies.

  “Let me show you out,” Meggie said, starting out of the door.

  “Wait, Meggie,” Kendall cried. “I’m not trying to hurt you.” She sighed. “Maybe, I am. You annoyed me. First, when you told me Johnnie shouldn’t take the name Caldwell and then when you had the audacity to misinterpret my words about your husband.”

  There were so many ways she could respond, but Meggie’s head was starting to pound, the usual reaction whenever she thought of her son. “Whatever, Kendall. It’s been a long day. I’m not in the mood to cross swords with you. Whatever burr is in your bra, get over it.”

  Snorting, Kendall rolled her eyes. “I have no goddamn burr in my bra,” she snarled. “Just bored out of my fucking head. You got certified in medical coding, so you think you’re so special as you fill your days with real work. You know what? I have a degree. Any idiot can do office work and send in codes to insurance companies.”

  “Oh, Kendall, shut up. I should be used to your raving bullcrap by now, but you’re really starting to grate on my nerves. You’re welcome to share my work load. You do own five percent of the company.”

  “To do absolutely nothing! All my hard work to earn my degree is going to waste. You gave me one sheet of paper to notarize today. One. Before this, I can’t remember the last time I did anything significant.”

  Meggie rubbed her temples. “What’s going on? I know you’re unhappy. I wish I could help you, but you’ve been particularly grouchy today. Have you been asked to work a case?”

  Kendall’s eyes widened, then she clapped. “Congratulations. Some of your husband’s distrust is rubbing off on you.”

  “Omigod, you’re being a raving bitch. Leave Christopher out of this. He has nothing to do
with how I’m thinking. I said that because I know you. You’re not entirely trustworthy. When you get like this you’re either resentful because you want to practice law—”

  “And your husband has forbidden me, to, and my husband refuses to stand up for me,” Kendall cut in.

  “Oh, fuck off, will you?” Meggie cried, at her wit’s end. She rarely used cuss words, but Kendall had pushed her to the edge. “If you wouldn’t have put your nose in club business and almost gotten my husband killed, you would be practicing law. Don’t blame Christopher or Johnnie for your current situation. Look in the mirror and you’ll find the guilty party.”

  “I’m not guilty of anything except wanting to help the club,” Kendall retorted. “To answer your question, no, I haven’t been offered a case. Today was the last fucking straw. I resent twiddling my thumbs all fucking day while you prance about like you own everything.”

  Meggie lifted a brow at Kendall. In this instance, she was taking a cue from Christopher’s playbook. “As I recall, you’re standing in my house. That means I do own everything.”

  Narrowing her eyes, Kendall huffed out a breath. “You don’t own me.”

  “Newsflash: you don’t live here. Besides, I don’t want to own you.”

  They faced off for a moment, before Meggie started for the door again. For now, she’d chalk this up to a bad day for Kendall. Everyone had them sometimes. But if she turned into that argumentative witch she’d been months ago, Meggie would inform Christopher. Without a doubt, a change in Kendall’s attitude meant she was up to something.

  “Are you ever going to tell me about your Valentine’s Day Ball?” Kendall demanded, just as Meggie reached the hallway that led to the kitchen.

  She halted and faced Kendall again. “Excuse me?”

  “This morning, Meggie. When Zoann dropped the Caston paperwork off, I heard you giggling like an airhead, while you told her you were thinking about throwing a ball. I’ve waited all fucking day for you to mention it to me. Not only is my degree worthless around here, but so is my dignity.”

  “For real, Kendall?” Meggie yelled. “You’re throwing a temper tantrum because I told Zoann about some stupid ball? I don’t even know if I’m going to give it. Valentine’s Day is six weeks away.”

  She and Christopher had come up with a bunch of ideas, but, so far, Meggie really liked the thought of the ball. This morning, she’d run it by Zoann to get her opinion. Meggie hadn’t thought of it again today, until now, when Kendall brought it up.

  “Christmas is a two and a half weeks away. After the new year, we have Christopher’s birthday. Besides, I’d want it formal and I’d have to find a way to convince my husband to put a tux on again.”

  “Suck his cock. He’ll do it. The whole club knows you suck dick to get your way.”

  “At least I get my way. If you got yours just from oral sex, you wouldn’t be here now, bitching about being bored. Maybe, you should try standing on your head and making faces with your ass. Yes, I suck Christopher’s penis. No one else’s, so shut up.”

  Kendall forced a laugh. “Your husband doesn’t have a penis.”

  “Now who’s the clever one? If there’s oral sex, I must be sucking something.”

  “I meant he has a cock or a dick.”

  “Stay out of Christopher’s pants, Kendall,” Meggie warned.

  She twisted strands of hair around her fingers. “Or what?”

  “Get out,” Meggie told her.

  “No. Fuck Christopher’s dick. I want to know about this ball. Afterwards, if you want to discuss his anatomy, I’m all for it.”

  Meggie didn’t feel comfortable sharing the naughty tidbits with Kendall that she sometimes shared with the other women in her inner circle. Kendall wanted to sleep with Christopher. Although Meggie knew she had nothing to worry about because her husband would never cheat on her, she didn’t like the thought of Kendall knowing any intimate details about Christopher. However, she heard the breathless excitement in Kendall’s voice. If Meggie had any intentions of sharing anything about her sex life with Kendall, the woman wouldn’t take it as girl talk. It would just be more ammunition in her lust for Christopher.

  Worse, Kendall wouldn’t back-off unless Meggie took drastic action. Inside, she winced at what she was about to do. However, she couldn’t think of any other way to rein in this quickly spiraling argument. Other than telling Christopher and Meggie would only do that as a last resort. Johnnie loved Kendall. If Christopher ever banned her from the club—or worse—it would destroy Johnnie.

  As long as Meggie didn’t verify any wrongdoing against her by a friend or family member, Christopher wouldn’t strike with deadly force. Literally—most of the time—or figuratively—in very rare instances.

  “Trying to think of a few big words to use to put me in my place?” Kendall asked with a patently false smile. “Forget it. This conversation is done. I will talk about your ball, though. Do it. It’s a great idea. I heard you tell Zoann it would be for Valentine’s day and you’d incorporate celebrating your five-year wedding anniversary. Or church anniversary, since only in your little blonde world can you have two wedding anniversaries.”

  Meggie pursed her lips. The ball would be a great way to celebrate the five years they’d had a blessed union. “You’re so right,” she started sweetly. “I’ll have to call all the ladies together for a planning meeting.” She beamed a smile. “Then, of course, you and I can have a girls’ night out. I’ll tell you all about Christopher’s, er, prowess.” Her heart sank at how low she was about to stoop. But Meggie was so over Kendall’s crap. “Then, I’m sure you’ll be dying to hear about what I think of Johnnie’s, um…what’s the words…? My poor little blonde’s brain can’t think of it. Um…oh, yeah!” She snapped her fingers. “Sexual skills.” She threw Kendall a little wave, happy to see the dirty look replacing that malicious gleam. “You know the way out. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Little bitch,” Kendall snarled.

  Turning on her heel and ignoring the response, Meggie marched down the hall, breathing a sigh of relief when she heard the alarm announcing the front door was being opened.

  The slam sounded like a shotgun blast.

  Meggie sighed. Tomorrow was another day. Hopefully, Kendall would be over her hurt feelings. Meggie hadn’t meant to slight her.

  Tomorrow, she’d have to make amends with Kendall. Which was fine. As long as it kept the peace between Christopher and Johnnie, Meggie was willing to apologize to her sister-in-law.

  Without a doubt, if they started feuding again, their men would too, and that was drama they could all do without.

  Christopher folded his arms and glared at his counterpart of the Imperials outfit. The two clubs were coming together to iron out a truce of sorts before shit got out of hand.

  The Imperials chapter was a direct affront to the Dwellers, since it was well known the city was the headquarters of their mother chapter.

  Christopher had let the fuckheads be. He had his woman and their kids to think about. A turf war was the last thing he needed. He’d already been through the hell of seeing his wife shot and nearly taken from him. His oldest son had been kidnapped at the same time. It was fucking hell. If he could avoid that misery, he would.

  However, the day after the run-in with Randolph, the motherfuckers intercepted a drug delivery by one of their support clubs, lifting a quarter rock of merchandise, before Christopher could wipe them out. He could no longer overlook such disrespect, so he personally hunted the assfucks responsible and put them the fuck out of their misery.

  As payback, the Imperials killed two Dwellers. Five Imperials blown the fuck away was fine with Christopher. Any amount of his brothers dead was too fucking many.

  His solution was to bomb the fuck out of the club and be done with it. Johnnie was against the idea. During church, three days ago, he introduced the idea of meeting with the Imperials to call a truce. The brothers in the general membership sided with Johnnie, so Christophe
r had no choice but to agree, even though their fellow officers was firmly aligned with him.

  He wouldn’t start a goddamn war within his own club. Dividing and conquering came in a variety of ways. Killing brothers reduced membership numbers and—possibly—bred resentment. Arguing amongst themselves eroded their strength, until their foundation crumbled. Either way, the club would divide, and the Imperials would conquer.

  “As far as I see it, we in the driver’s seat, Outlaw,” Mystic announced, his smirk annoying the fuck out of Christopher. “We’re new in town. We’ll get prospects out of curiosity. We have more contacts south of the border than the Dwellers. That gives us a farther reach down the Pacific coast.”

  Unfolding his arms, Christopher heaved a sigh, attempting to calm his growing agitation. They were in a public place. On neutral ground. They didn’t need a fucking shootout.

  Mystic tapped his cigarette out in the ashtray. “The Imperials did their homework on the Dwellers.”

  Not enough. Otherwise, they’d know a Dweller chapter in Texas provided security for one of the Mexican cartels as drugs were smuggled across the border and then distributed via a wide network. Christopher had ironed out the deal with a cartel leader years ago. The operation went so smoothly, he didn’t need to run any interference.

  This chapter was one of his most important ones, since Texas shared a huge border with Mexico.

  “What do you want from us?” Johnnie asked, seated to Christopher’s right.

  They sat in a private room at a restaurant, with the Dwellers seated on one side and the Imperials on the other. The two SAA’s stood at the side of their presidents, watching each side like hawks.

  Eating had been a tense affair and over quickly. The Imperials were drinking. The Dwellers were not. This wasn’t about fucking socializing.

  “We’re willing to listen to your terms,” Johnnie went on, without Christopher’s permission.

  Later, he’d chew Johnnie a new asshole. Right now, he grunted.

 

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