He glared at her a moment longer before he turned and sauntered away.
Somehow, Christopher didn’t get arrested. He merely got them banned from ever setting foot in the hotel again after incurring so much damage Meggie cringed every time she thought about it.
Her shopping had been ruined by everything Cee Cee, from his appearance to his putting his dirty hands on the things she’d chosen. To her dawning realization and his sneering announcement. While Farrah went and got the car, Lacey decided to purchase the last two negligees for Meggie.
“Once this is passed, you’ll regret not purchasing them.”
Doubtful. Every time she looked at them, she’d forever remember Cee Cee. The man who’d raped Patricia Donovan and gotten her pregnant with Christopher from that violence.
Once Meggie had gotten in the car, she’d called Christopher. By the time she’d arrived back at the hotel with CJ and her mom, she’d found their suite destroyed and Johnnie doing everything but tying Christopher to what was left of the chair.
Between Meggie, Val and Johnnie, they’d talked hotel management into not calling the police, but it had been a close call. Now, they were three hours into their six hour drive with Johnnie at the wheel of his Navigator, Christopher in the front passenger seat and her, CJ and her mom in the back. Val’s arrival had been unexpected, but she discovered he hopped in Johnnie’s ride just to get away. Which worked out because it gave Christopher the chance to calm down without having to concentrate on driving. Instead, Val hit the road on Christopher’s Harley and Johnnie chauffeured them back to Hortensia in his Navigator.
Meggie sighed. She had several weeks before her church wedding. She’d wanted her union with Christopher blessed. Now, she said a quick prayer that they would all stay safe. A chill went through her and she knew her prayer would go unheard.
Cee Cee had begun a cat-and-mouse game that Christopher was determined to finish.
Chapter 6
Dinah Nicholls shrank back when the biker with the bald head, silver beard, and eye patch swung the car door open and held out his hand to assist her out of Johnnie’s Navigator.
“Babe, I don’t have time for this shit,” he snapped. “Give me your fucking hand so we can get you the fuck inside.”
She thought his name was K-P, but she wasn’t sure. He was one of the older bikers, a little older than her forty-three.
Johnnie gazed at her from the other side of the door, keys hanging from his fingers, his silver-gray eyes narrowing. “I’m tired, Dinah. We need you to get your ass out the fucking car and go see to your daughter and grandson.”
She saw Christopher clutching Meggie’s hand and cradling CJ in his other arm, hustling her toward the club. For once, Meggie didn’t pause and think about her, Dinah noted, a pang of fear and remorse going through her. Meggie’s words had hurt, more so because she really hadn’t meant any harm. Men were so violent, though. A crying baby might have—
K-P grabbed her hand and yanked her out. Dinah let out a frightened cry and raised her hand to shield her face. The man froze.
“I got this, John Boy.”
“Better you than me,” Johnnie grumbled and stalked away.
Dinah’s heart banged against her ribcage. She was alone with the barrel-chested biker and he might choose to hit her now. That’s what Thomas always did. She licked her lips and lowered her eyes, unable to hide how frightened she was. Her legs actually shook.
A gentle finger lifted her chin, but tears slipped down Dinah’s cheeks. Her heart hurt. Her head hurt. The memories of the humiliation and pain she’d suffered wouldn’t leave her no matter what she did. She felt like a failure. She felt stupid. Unloved. Unworthy. Everything Thomas had ever said about her.
“Look at me, babe.”
Her trembles fanned out to her entire body.
K-P caught her arms. “Steady, Dinah,” he rasped. “Take a deep breath.”
She blinked, so startled he knew her name her gaze flew to his.
A half smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Yeah. I know your fucking name, even before John Boy said it a minute ago.” Heat crept into her cheeks at his wry tone. “We all do. You’re Meggie’s momma and Outlaw would have our balls if we didn’t keep watch over you since you so important to his girl.”
She swallowed. “Not anymore,” she admitted. “I’ve finally made her stop loving me.”
“No. Meggie will never stop loving you.”
“I—“ Her throat worked.
If she told him the truth, he might punish her. Their priority was Meggie. Not her. The very thought of the pain she’d endured during her marriage made her trembles return. Nausea churned in her belly. God, the painful sex and the awful punches and cruel words. And she didn’t even want to begin to think about all that Meggie endured. Dinah hadn’t known how to save herself. She’d thought not running was the best protection she could give Meggie.
“None of you like me,” she blurted, cringing at how pathetic she sounded. She wanted Thomas to be wrong. She wanted someone to think she was worthy to be liked and loved.
He rubbed his bald head and glanced away. “We don’t bullshit around here, babe. We don’t really know you to feel one way or the other about you. We don’t like the way you left Meggie to fend for herself.” He rocked back on his heels. “I suppose we don’t respect you too much for that.”
She bowed her head, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.
“And, babe? You do that shit a lot.”
“What?” she whispered.
“Fucking cry. That’s nerve-wrecking shit, babe. Grates on everybody’s asses.”
She sniffled. “I don’t know what to do.”
He gazed up at the cloudy sky and hooked his thumbs in his jeans. “What do you like to do?”
What did she like to do, anymore? She had no clue. At one time, she liked cooking. And kissing. The thought sank her spirits further. She wiped her hands across her lips, still feeling the sting of bites and the cruel laughter when Thomas had bit her and drew blood.
“There has to be something you enjoy?”
“C-cooking.”
“Any specialties?”
“Mac and cheese. Chocolate Chip cookies Two of Meggie’s favorites.”
“When was the last time you cooked for her?”
Years. Thomas didn’t like her cooking anything special for Meggie.
K-P grabbed her hand, his grip gentle. “Let’s get inside, babe. If you feel up to it, maybe, you can help me out in the kitchen this evening. Surprise your daughter with your mac and cheese.”
He winked at her and Dinah nodded slowly. He gave her hand a squeeze and she felt…protected. What an odd concept.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mama,” Meggie greeted, the next morning, carrying CJ in her arms. With her sudden departure to Seattle and all the following chaos, she hadn’t purchased any candy for Dinah to give her as a present, one of the things she intended to remedy during her errands. She started forward. “I’ll see you later.”
“Aren’t you leaving him with me?”
Meggie frowned. “Uh, no.”
“I promise I won’t do anything to him.” Dinah bit her lip and looked down at her toes. She reminded Meggie of an errant child, instead of a mother and a grandmother. “Give me a chance, Meggie.”
“Mama, you’ll get your chance when Christopher and I go on our honeymoon.” Even though the thought sent chills down her spine. She was considering the possibility of taking her son with her rather than leave him with Dinah so her mom could drug him so he wouldn’t disturb anyone. As far as she knew, the airplane incident had been the one and only time. But who knew when it would happen again? “I have errands to run and he can come. And, tonight, at the Valentine’s dinner, he’ll be no trouble.”
Although Christopher would. She knew he wanted the alone time with her in their new house where CJ wouldn’t pull her away from or distract her attention towards him.
“Meggie, babe, I’m gonna han
g out here tonight,” K-P called, appearing at her mother’s side. “I can help Dinah with Little Man.”
Meggie cocked a brow and narrowed her eyes at the blush creeping up Dinah’s cheeks. “That’s not—“
“Babe, I got a daughter myself and she’s grown. Me and her mama did a pretty good job looking after her.”
“You have a daughter?” Meggie asked in surprise. The man continued to amaze her. She’d met him when he’d been cooking for a club event, chopping onions like he’d been born to do the job. Who would’ve thought the man who resembled a cross between a big biker and a bad pirate had cooking and parenting skills?
He nodded. “Her name’s Bailey.”
Meggie plastered a smile on her face, not because she didn’t like K-P, but, because she didn’t want to throw her mother to the wolf. Dinah wouldn’t take too well to having K-P so close without other people around.
“Thanks, K-P, I really appreciate it. I’ll just keep him with me.”
“Can I hold Little Man, Meggie?” Val’s voice rose from behind her.
She turned and saw the man already had his arms out. Not that she’d turn him down. She smiled. “Sure, Val.” Carefully, she placed CJ in his arms, admiring the skull tattoo on one arm and the cross tattoo on the other. It always amazed her how the gentleness surfaced in these tough bikers whenever they dealt with her son.
Val and CJ stared at one another and a wistful regret washed over the man’s features. He had a son, too, about eight months old now, whose mother happened to be Christopher’s sister.
Someone tugged her sleeve and she glanced over her shoulder. “Mama?”
“I-I…if you’re thinking about me when you turned him down—“ She pointed in K-P’s direction—“I’ll be fine. He…he seems really nice.”
Meggie gazed passed her mother and noticed K-P’s heartening smile. A plea mixed with his encouragement. She gazed between her mother and K-P. Dinah still wore the same haggard, frightened expression, her blonde hair more than a little gray, the wrinkles in her face making her appear older than she really was. Dinah’s gaze skittered between the floor and K-P in a curious way.
Meggie cleared her throat and rocked back on her heels. Umkay… “Okay. But no drugs, Momma. No Tylenol. No Benadryl. Nothing.”
K-P folded his arms. “What the fuck does that mean, babe?”
Dinah flinched at K-P’s growl, although Meggie suspected the tone was for her and not her mother. However, he dropped his hands and scowled when he noticed how Dinah shrank back.
“It means just what I said, K-P,” Meggie returned. “If CJ gets too fussy or whatever, make sure you call me and not ply him with whatever to make him sleep.”
“Babe? Hey, babe?” K-P frowned at her mom. “You did that to Little Man?”
Her color leeching from her skin, Dinah swallowed and stepped back. Meggie’s heart sank to her toes because she knew her mom expected retaliation from K-P. Drawing in a calming breath, Meggie inserted herself between them. She grabbed Dinah’s shoulders and hugged her. “No one here is going to hurt you, Momma. They’d have me to deal with. K-P wasn’t asking you that to chastise you like you’re a child-like Thomas would—“ More like beat her to a pulp.
“Aww, Dinah, babe, you can’t think I would hit—“
Meggie glanced with meaning at K-P, cutting him off. “It’s okay, Momma. I promise. You’re amongst friends and family.”
Laughter rumbled from Val. Meggie stepped away from Dinah and saw Val enraptured with CJ while her son laughed at the faces the man made. An idea formed in her head. Maybe…well, she had to run out for some last minute grocery items for the dinner she needed to start cooking in a kitchen she’d never seen. She couldn’t believe the master bedroom, kitchen and dining room were finally finished and they’d soon move into their new house.
Meggie kissed Dinah’s cheek, unable to ignore the anticipation of both Val and K-P. “I have to get going, so I can start cooking.”
“You’re leaving him with us?” Dinah asked, hope flaring in her eyes.
She nodded, actually leaving CJ with the boys, but Dinah didn’t need to know that.
Soon, Meggie was on the road in her Beetle. Christopher had surprised her with the car for Christmas and she adored it. It gave her mobility and proved just the right size for her, since whenever they traveled together, they took a bigger vehicle if CJ accompanied them or went on the Harley if he didn’t.
Meggie pulled up in front of the neat, little house, twenty minutes later. She didn’t have Zoann’s cell phone number because her sister-in-law owed Christopher all types of apologies. Meggie would prefer to never have anything to do with the mean, spiteful witch. However, Zoann wasn’t only Christopher’s sister, but she was CJ’s aunt and her son CJ’s cousin. Children shouldn’t have to suffer because of idiotic adults.
Walking up to the door, Meggie rang the bell, wondering if Zoann was on duty at the hospital. A moment later, the woman swung open the door, answering the question. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Meggie while Meggie stared back, halfway expecting Zoann to slam the door in her face.
Instead, her lips thinned. “Megan.”
Meggie sniffed. “Zoann.”
“What do you need?”
Not to stand on the porch freezing half to death. Judging by the satisfaction in the other woman’s whiskey colored eyes, she knew it, too. Meggie clenched her jaw and mumbled bitch under her breath.
“Obviously, I need to talk to you,” she snapped.
Zoann glowered at her, the stubborn set of her jaw reminding Meggie of Christopher, even though brother and sister looked nothing alike. While Christopher had black hair and green eyes, his sister had a wealth of chestnut hair and whiskey colored eyes.
“Do you want to come inside?” she asked sourly, stepping aside a fraction, the small space she cleared cuing Meggie in on the other woman’s preference.
Not answering, Meggie scooted past her and closed her eyes in bliss at the warmth of the house. Baby things were scattered here and there, a play yard in one corner. A blue diaper sat on the patterned sofa. A huge photo of Patricia, Zoann, and the four other girls stood front and center on the wall above the sofa, irking Meggie to no end because another face belonged with them.
“Aren’t you missing someone?” She folded her arms and thrust her chin toward the picture.
Zoann shut the door with a definitive thud and leaned against it. She lifted a brow. “Am I?”
Enough was enough. “I’m sorry about Patricia, Zoann. I didn’t know her very long, but I’ve grieved for her, too. She never met my son—“
“Or mine,” Zoann spat, rocketing forward and stopping inches away from Meggie.
Perfect distance for Meggie to slap some sense into her head. She narrowed her eyes. “Or yours. But the way you treated Christopher is unforgivable. You owe him an apology. All of you do.” All five of his sisters had been complete bitches to him at their mother’s funeral. “At this point, I don’t think groveling at his feet and begging his forgiveness would be too much to ask.”
“If this is what you came to talk about, leave. Christopher is responsible—“
“Oh my God,” Meggie shrieked, jabbing Zoann’s shoulder. “You’re such a bitch. Christopher isn’t responsible for anything. And if you ever say something like that to him again, I’ll make you sorry.” Forgetting her purpose for visiting her sister-in-law, Meggie stormed to the door. A baby’s cry halted her and she yanked the door open. “I came here on behalf of Val, not Christopher. Whatever’s going on between you and Val, get over it. He has every right to see his son just as if you were together.”
Zoann turned on her heel and stomped toward the other room with a, “hold on a moment” tossed over her shoulder.
As good as her word, she returned holding a little boy who had a mop of brown hair but eyes the color of Val’s, his mother’s full mouth and the impression his nose would take of the shape of his father. Plopping down in the rocking chair near the
window, Zoann led her son to her nipple, then glared at Meggie.
“You’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong—“
“I beg to differ. My nose is exactly where it belongs. Those guys are my family and I won’t stand for anyone treating them less than they deserve. Especially Christopher,” she bit out.
“How do you know I haven’t given Val permission to visit—“
Meggie snorted.
“I resent the insinuation of that snort.”
“As if it matters to me what you resent,” she retorted.
“If he wanted to see his son so bad, he could’ve tried to reach me again himself instead of sending you.”
“He didn’t send me,” Meggie said on a whisper-yell, well aware of the little boy laying with such contentment in his mother’s arms. Her own breasts tingled. “I came on my own when I saw him with CJ.”
Zoann blinked and turned her head. “CJ? Your son?”
“Yes. Christopher Joseph Foy Caldwell.”
When Zoann fell into silence, Meggie turned to leave. There would be no happy ending here and time was fast slipping by. This had been a wasted trip, but she’d given it a shot. Over the months, she’d caught snippets of conversations between Val, Christopher, and the others about Val’s son, so she’d already guessed he’d been after Zoann to visit the baby and she’d turned him down again. And again. And again.
“Christopher married you.”
The dull statement once again halted Meggie. “At City Hall. We’re having a church wedding in a month.”
Tears returned to Zoann’s eyes and she blinked them away—again. “He loves you.”
“And I love him.”
Her jaw tautened and bitterness turned down her mouth. “He’s a lying, murdering, cheating, stinking biker,” she spat. “Just like Val.”
“I’m here to appeal to you to allow Val to see his son,” Meggie began, just as tight and fierce as Zoann. “I’m not here to listen to you disparage my husband. Your brother.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 40