Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  Before going to the ladies’ room, she sent Bin and Shady a text, telling them to meet her at the coffee shop because they were ready to leave. After calling her mother and checking on CJ, then trying to contact Christopher without success, Meggie followed Bunny to the shop. Gypsy cried off, saying she had to get home to her kids.

  Once Meggie parked, she waited for Bunny to do the same, while Bin stormed her way.

  “I’m not here to be a babysitter, Meggie,” he complained. “I have shit to do.”

  “You do,” Meggie agreed. “And that is accompanying me wherever I want to go.”

  “You better back off, Bin, dude,” Shady advised. “Prez’ll rip you a new asshole if you don’t get out of Meggie’s face.”

  As much as she wanted to demand Bin stay, she’d had enough today, when this was supposed to have been her drama free day. She waved him off. “Go then.”

  Bin flicked away a cigarette butt and stalked off.

  “Prez is gonna hear about this,” Shady swore. He thrust his chin toward Bin’s retreating form. “About him, especially.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you go, as well? I’ll be fine.”

  Shady hesitated.

  “Go,” she insisted. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay. I won’t be too far away. If you need me, just give me a call. Okay? I’ll be two minutes away, so—“

  Meggie placed a hand on his arm and laughed. “Thank you. I’m fine. And I appreciate that you’ll be nearby.”

  He smiled and nodded as he walked toward his bike.

  Meggie was happy to find Bunny’s brother, Gabe, was in fact free and able to draw a temporary replica of the Celtic cross entwined with the black roses that Christopher had on his upper arm. Right where his well-defined bicep tempted the female population into craving a touch. She wanted a smaller one on her side to cover her ugly stretch marks. If she liked this one and got permanent ink, she might choose another one for the other side at a later date. And, maybe, one day she’d do something about the marks she’d made on herself.

  “That sounds so cool, Meggie,” Bunny said with anticipation once Meggie completed her description. “I’ll bet Outlaw is going to love it.”

  Meggie agreed and couldn’t wait to see his face. She’d bet it would light up just as it had when she’d shown him his man cave. “I think so.”

  While Gabe prepared his pens, Meggie and Bunny chitchatted. Meggie discovered Bunny had met her boyfriend when he’d come in for a tattoo at Gabe’s shop. Since Gabe’s assistant had called in sick, Bunny promised to answer Gabe’s phone while he worked on Meggie, who reclined in the tattoo chair, studying the drawings hanging on the wall in the room. The place consisted of this room and the reception area. Small but clean.

  Finally, Gabe was ready. “Wanna take off your shirt, Meggie? You can leave your bra on.”

  “How about I just lift my shirt out of the way?”

  “You’ll be more comfortable with it off.”

  “Trust the woman,” Bunny offered, sitting in the extra chair. “Her old man won’t like her taking her shirt off.”

  Meggie and Bunny shared a glance.

  “To be honest, he probably won’t like that you’re touching her, but he likes tats and you do excellent work, so that’ll be your saving grace.”

  “All right,” Gabe agreed, picking up his first pen as Meggie lifted her shirt.

  Smiling, Meggie imagined Christopher’s voice full of gruff approval when she showed him—

  “MEGAN!” Christopher’s voice blared through the small building, shaking the walls and seeming to lift the roof.

  Gabe’s eyes widened just as the door burst open.

  “Motherfucker.”

  Meggie scrambled from the table and barreled into Christopher before he punched Gabe.

  “What are you doing here?” they both screamed at one another at the same time.

  “What does it look like I’m doing here?” Meggie snarled. “Getting a tattoo.”

  “No the fuck you ain’t.” He glared the promise of murder toward Gabe, then focused on Bunny. “You the bitch who brought my wife here?”

  Bunny paled and inched closer to Gabe.

  “No!” Meggie snapped, stepping in front of her charging husband. “I asked her to bring me here. I wanted to surprise you—“

  “By lettin’ some fuck touch you?”

  “He was—“

  “And marring your beautiful skin?”

  “I wanted to—“

  “You didn’t ask me if you could get a tattoo.”

  “You fucked, brother,” Mortician said from behind Christopher and Meggie realized they were probably all out there. “You can’t order chicks around.”

  Christopher spun to Mortician. “The fuck I can’t,” he spat. “Megan’s mine.” He pointed to Gabe. “And you a fuckin’ dead man for puttin’ your fuckin’ fingers on her.” He glanced at Bunny. “Don’t ever fuckin’ set foot in my club again.” And focused on Megan. “And you. Get the fuck in your car. I ain’t ever lettin’ you out on your own a-fuckin-gain. And cancel that bullshit with that little fat motherfucker. I ain’t fuckin’ goin’.”

  Meggie stared at him, swearing her surroundings had been painted red. Or, maybe, that was the color she was seeing because she wanted to kill Christopher. “Move,” she said in a voice so deadly calm even Christopher blinked.

  But, of course, he recovered too fast. “Get home,” he ground out.

  Meggie glanced around the little room for an escape, but Christopher stood right in front of her, blocking her way. Without taking her eyes off the furious face of her husband, she said, “Bunny, you’re my friend, so you’re welcomed there anytime. If not, I’ll visit you at your house.”

  “Megan—“ Christopher barked.

  “As for you,” she spat in an icy voice, “if you don’t get out of my way and let me pass, I’m going to hurt you really, really bad.”

  He snorted and lit a cigarette with infuriating smugness. “As if.”

  Meggie stomped Christopher’s foot, satisfied at his yelp. “You…you’re…you…” She couldn’t think of anything nasty enough to express her range of emotions. Hurt, humiliation, and anger. So she snarled what shot into her mind, “fuck off, you fucking asshole,” shoved him out of her way and ran out of the shop, bursting into tears. She went through a wall of bikers—Stretch, Val, Mortician, Digger, Johnnie, K-P, Shady, and Bin. She glared at him, wanting to spit in his ugly face. She was sure he was the one who’d ratted her out.

  “Megs,” Johnnie called, reaching for her.

  She shook her head and ran past him. She didn’t need Johnnie’s death on her conscience. If he touched her, Christopher would kill him.

  Once she reached her car and got in, she sped away, needing space and driving blindly. In the distance, she heard the roar of a motorcycle and felt herself edging closer to the limit of her control. She wasn’t Christopher’s possession, which was what he was turning her into, ordering her about as if she had no brain. Having her followed. Deciding once and for all he wouldn’t go through with their church wedding.

  She’d never used a curse word a day in her life, but he’d made her so mad.

  Sniffling, she pulled into a gas station. Despite all the food she’d eaten not two hours ago, she wanted a Milky Way and some chocolate milk. After filling her gas tank and making her purchases inside the mini mart, she started off again, frustrated when two bikes sped past her.

  A moment. That’s all she needed. Away from the MC and Christopher. When she neared the dead end street that led to the clubhouse, she dialed her mother’s number to check on CJ. If he needed her, she’d go to him. Thankfully, he didn’t, so she decided to head to the creek, where she’d lived for a month before meeting Christopher. She hadn’t visited there since she’d moved to the club, but she needed the fresh air. She could eat her candy, drink her milk, and think. Or not think. Just smell the freshness of the trees and feel the briskness of the air against her ov
erheated skin.

  She sat on a grassy slope and folded her legs, opening her milk and candy bar. She took a bite, then a sip.

  Meggie needed to break through Christopher’s rage. Everything set him off and it all went back to Cee Cee. Not that excused his behavior from a little while ago.

  She didn’t know who to turn to for advice. She’d had no examples of supportive relationships. She only knew of her idea of what standing behind Christopher meant. And it certainly didn’t mean he was allowed to treat her so crappy.

  Meggie rubbed her temples and glanced at the peaceful flow of the water.

  “I’d say you set my son in his place.”

  Meggie drew in a deep breath. Call her insane but hearing Cee Cee’s voice didn’t surprise her. She’d had a sense of being watched for most of the day. That’s why she’d wanted Bin and Shady to stay. Otherwise, she would’ve been as unhappy about her guards as they were to babysit her. Even Mortician, Val, Stretch, and Digger, as much as she liked them and they liked her, didn’t relish the task. Of course, Christopher never sent Johnnie with her.

  Just as well, she supposed, since her husband was an insane, jealous maniac. Speaking of which…”Go away,” she ordered over her shoulder.

  “That’s what I’m here for, girlie.”

  Out of her peripheral vision, she caught sight of his boots as he stopped next to her and stepped on her candy bar.

  She jumped to her feet and brushed over her backside, flinching when he kicked her milk hard enough for it to land in the water.

  Cee Cee leered at her. “You love my boy, right?”

  She hated hearing Cee Cee referring to Christopher as “his boy”. But, as much as she wanted to deny the claim, he resembled her husband. And her son. Where they had all that black hair, Cee Cee’s tattooed bald head made him look like a scary criminal.

  She turned to start for her car.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

  It wouldn’t do any good to scream because no one would hear her, so she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, swallowing at his laughter. Not that she blamed him. Before she dialed a digit, he’d have her subdued. Or dead.

  He folded his arms. “I really want to fuck you.”

  “I’d really rather die.”

  He shrugged. “I can oblige you in that, too.”

  She bet he could and when he was done, he wouldn’t lose sleep over it.

  He moved closer to her. She had so many questions going through her head—none of which mattered because he wouldn’t be interested in answering why he’d decided to drop into his son’s life and challenge his authority.

  “We could run away together,” he offered. “Me and you.”

  She frowned at the unexpected words.

  “You didn’t just show up to run away with me. So why are you here? What do you want with my husband?”

  He roared with laughter. “Don’t want nothin’ from my boy. A man couldn’t ask for a better son.” His nostrils flared and he spat a stream of…something…right near her feet. “Thought he’d finally be free when his fucking mother chewed on that bullet. Wanted to form an alliance with him. My MC and his.”

  “What’s the name of your MC?”

  Right then, her life came full circle. She’d run away from her mother’s house to get protection from her abusive stepfather. And found love. She’d run away from her love to clear her head. And found abuse when Cee Cee slapped her across the face and she saw stars.

  He shook her and narrowed his eyes. “You don’t get to ask fucking questions, you little slut. You stay with him, you’ll make him weak. His enemies want something from the club, all they have to do is threaten you—or get to you—and they’ll get it. I don’t want some cunt coming in and fucking up all my son’s built.”

  Cee Cee shoved her back and she stumbled, the side of her head stinging. Her insides turned to glass, threatening to crack her apart and she gasped, the pain and humiliation of her past slamming through her. She needed…

  She needed to make her fear go. Go. GO!

  “You’re his biggest liability. The whole club’s. You, Megan Foy.”

  Cee Cee had a point, she thought with a shiver, careening over the edge she’d been teetering on since this man had landed in their lives with the force of a tsunami. She was Christopher’s liability. He’d agreed to a church wedding when he didn’t want it. Agreed to dress in a manner he’d never dressed in—without his cut during the ceremony. For her. He’d stopped hanging out in the main room as often or too long. Everyone knew how he felt about her.

  Cee Cee reached out for her, but she’d learned how to survive years ago. Anticipating his move, she went the opposite way, just as her phone started ringing. He jerked it out of her hands and pitched it. A moment later, it plopped into the water, along with dozens of stored photos of CJ since the moment she’d brought him home.

  That bitch had to get close to me so I could shove her the fuck away.

  That’s what Christopher had said about the whore who’d been at his bachelor party.

  Cee Cee backhanded her and her ears rang, more stars dancing in front of her eyes. When he came for her again, Meggie shoved her fingers into his eye and brought her foot up, kicking him as hard as possible in the groin. She shot forward to her car, barely able to get in and lock the door because Cee Cee trailed her, though the hit she’d given him slowed him. Otherwise, he would’ve caught up to her. He banged on the window and Meggie clutched the steering wheel, tears almost blinding her. Her hands trembled so violently she almost couldn’t shove the key into the ignition and start it. When she did, Cee Cee stopped kicking her door and pounding on her window to lunge toward the hood.

  God, please! Don’t make me have to run over him. But, she knew, if she had to, she would; to get away, back to Christopher, back to her son, but Cee Cee jumped out the way at the last minute.

  Meggie gunned the car forward and sped away, hating that she had to bring this to Christopher and wishing she could somehow hide this incident from him.

  But knowing that wasn’t an option.

  When Christopher reached the clubhouse and then checked his own house, it pissed him off not to find Megan. His boys all gave him the silent treatment for the way he’d gone off on her. Maybe, his words had been fucked up and they’d come out wrong like a motherfucker and made him look like an assfuck. He’d just been so fucking furious when Bin called and reported Megan had gone to a tattoo parlor with Bunny.

  Christopher couldn’t imagine anything—even ink—marring Meggie’s beautiful skin. Yeah, it was her body and she could do what she wanted with it, but, to him, she was just so perfect. Then, to discover a man was touching her body.

  Fuck him, if Megan wasn’t his handicap. She made him wild with jealousy and one insecure motherfucker. He couldn’t keep her in a fucking cage but he was afraid like a motherfucker that she’d open her eyes one day and realize he was nothing but a piece of shit. And leave him.

  But he wanted her happy and, if it took leaving him to make her happy, he’d step the fuck aside and let her walk away. After the scene in the parlor shop, it wouldn’t surprise him if she’d pack her shit once she returned. Before her, if a chick had gone all psycho fuckhead on him, he would’ve told her she’d lost her fucking mind and then left her the fuck alone.

  Sitting at the bar, Mortician placed a beer in front of him. Dinah was at the house with CJ and Christopher knew Meggie wouldn’t leave without their boy. That meant, sooner or later, she’d return to the club.

  “Yo’, Prez,” Val called.

  Christopher glanced over his shoulder, glowering a warning to him.

  “You’re an asshole, talking to Meggie like that.”

  “Fuck you,” he growled.

  Johnnie glared at him, stalking behind the bar to get a bottle of whisky, wanting to jump in his shit. Christopher wished he would. He needed to do something to get this fucking sick anger out of him. It had been lingering ever since Cee Cee had fucked wit
h Megan, ever since Christopher discovered the man who’d given him life—given him the name he fucking detested—still breathed. Just knowing they both drew in air on Planet Earth sent equal parts of shame, humiliation, and fury through him.

  He dialed Meggie’s number again. When it went straight to voicemail, he drew in a deep breath.

  “This is Meggie. Leave a message.”

  Even her voice was bright, the light to his darkness. She’d brought sunshine to his life, pulled him from the pits, and made him think.

  “Megan—“ he began gruffly after the beep.

  “Outlaw,” Mortician interrupted.

  Christopher looked up and the man pointed his thumb in the direction of the monitor that showed the gate. Stretch was opening it to let Megan in. Hanging up, he got to his feet. He’d embarrassed her in front of everyone, he’d apologize—

  “Holy motherfuck,” Mortician growled. “What the fuck happened to her?”

  Before Christopher could turn to the monitor, the door blasted open and Megan ran in, screeching to a halt when she saw them.

  Christopher stared at her, the tears streaking her face. The terror in her eyes. The motherfucking bruise on her cheek.

  All the boys were throwing questions at her, but she didn’t answer any of them. She just barreled into his arms and clung to him, trembling in his arms.

  “Megan, baby, what happened to you?” he asked after a few minutes of letting her cry and holding her in his arms.

  “N-nothing.”

  “Nothing? How the fuck you get a fuckin’ bruise then?”

  Silence. He narrowed his eyes, felt his blood pressure rise, because the thought rising in his fucking head was too motherfucking insane to entertain. No motherfucking way would that motherfucker...Trying to control his temper and feeling to his bones he knew what the fuck had happened, he stared at Johnnie and nodded.