“Time for your fuckin’ dissection,” Christopher announced, knowing he had calls to make in Cali.
Bin sobbed again. “Please, Outlaw, I gave you the information to find Cee Cee.”
“Don’t give a fuck. Besides, I think you holdin’ fuckin’ back, so when we get to the meat shack we gonna take our time til we get all the fuckin’ info we need.”
Bin shook his head, his reddish-brown eyes filling with tears, his chalky white skin turning pink. Fucking Vampire motherfucker. Christopher might need a fucking stake to fuck him up.
Bin pointed to the bitch. “Her. The bitch there. She workin’ with Cee Cee, too. She was supposed to get Meggie and bring her to him.”
Christopher drew in a deep breath and narrowed his eyes at the whore.
“You fucking asshole!” she screamed. “Telling on me.” She glared at Christopher, hatred brimming in her black eyes. “Not like you’re going to do anything, but give me a warning,” she spat. “We know the Dwellers don’t hurt women.”
Yeah, when a motherfucker got on the bad side of other clubs, they jeopardized everybody close to them, females included. Wives. Girlfriends. Sisters. Mothers. Dogs. Cats. And just like that was known, the Dwellers’ stance was known, too. How fucking ever…”Bitch, you was comin’ to hurt my wife. Ain’t no fuckin’ forgivin’ that.”
Snatching his nine from Johnnie, he pointed it at her head and fired, glad he’d attached his silencer before riding out.
Bin stared at the bitch, sprawled back, the side of her head gaping open from the hollow point bullet. All of a sudden, the scent of urine hit Christopher’s nostrils and he glanced down.
Fucking Bin. He’d pissed himself.
Christopher rolled his eyes. “Val,” he called, watching as the man began to wrap the girl in the comforter. “You have to stay behind until one of us get back with a vehicle to transport her, so we can get rid of her.”
“No problem, Outlaw.”
Once they were outside, Johnnie grabbed Bin’s shoulder and guided him to his bike. “You one lucky fuck. You get to ride bitch with me.” He pulled on his gloves and helmet. “Try not to piss me the fuck off, so I don’t accidentally push you off and in the pathway of the boys’ bikes.”
“Damn, man,” Digger said, securing his helmet on his head. “I might fucking prefer getting run over, then ending up with parts of my ass as some present for Cee Cee in a fucking box.”
Chapter 15
The next evening, Meggie picked at the mashed potatoes and fried oysters she’d cooked for herself and Christopher. The two of them sat alone in the main room. Most of the day, the place had been empty. Unless invited, only the officers were allowed on the premises. Christopher had been on his phone when she’d awakened in the early afternoon.
She still dragged with fatigue from whatever had been in the fizzy kool aid looking drink Christopher had asked her to drink.
Rigid with tension, Christopher sat next to her, one of his guns right in front of them. He’d just gotten through cleaning and reloading it. The door opened and Meggie snapped her head in that direction. She smiled in relief when Stretch escorted Traveler in. The man’s face was bruised and bloodied. Her smile faded and her belly clenched.
“Thanks, Stretch” Christopher grumbled.
“Meggie,” Traveler said after Stretch left.
She swallowed. “Hey, Traveler.”
Christopher pointed to Traveler. “Sit the fuck down,” he ordered, then focused on her. “Go.”
Traveler glanced between them, then gazed around like he was looking for something. “Where are the others, Prez?”
“None of your fuckin’ business.”
Anger rushed across Traveler’s face. Anger—and hatred. Alarm raced through Meggie, but the looks dropped from the biker’s face so fast, she wondered if she’d hallucinated.
“Brought me in to finish me off?” A muscle ticked in Traveler’s jaw. “Having to watch Bin get—“
“Shut the fuck up,” Christopher snarled, distracted by her presence and another text message. “I told you to go, Megan.”
Having to watch Bin get…Don’t go there, Meggie. She didn’t have to be told what Traveler must’ve had to watch. The sight of the head in the box flashed in her mind and her stomach churned.
Traveler scrubbed a hand over his eyes. He looked exhausted, plain wrung out. “Can I have a drink, Prez?”
“No.”
Traveler stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Just one before you put me to—“
“Stop bein’ a fuckin’ idiot, Traveler,” Christopher snapped, throwing his phone aside. “If I wanted you dead, I would’ve done it earlier.” He climbed to his feet and glared at her since she hadn’t moved, but he turned away and unease slid through Meggie.
He trusted Traveler or else he wouldn’t have turned his back to the man. But the mean way the man was looking at her husband scared her.
Christopher made for an easy target right now. He wasn’t even armed. Meggie licked her lips, her heart beginning to pound.
“Get out, Megan. I need to talk to Traveler about a run.”
In slow motion, Christopher’s words reached her. In a fast blur, Traveler opened his cut and pulled out a gun.
She squeaked, but no sound came out.
But, then, Traveler raised the weapon and she reacted. Doing the only thing she could. She grabbed Christopher’s gun, copied what she remembered seeing him do.
And pulled the trigger just as Traveler fired.
Christopher spun at the sound of the gunshots, one bullet flying right the fuck past his head, his sudden movement putting him out of the bullet’s deadly path. And the other?
The other?
Fuck him, Megan stood, sheet-white, his nine in her shaking hand. Hand? Her entire fucking body shook.
Traveler wheezed on the floor, blood blooming on the front of his shirt, gun still clutched in his hand.
“He was going to shoot you,” she said in a high, I’m-about-to-lose-my-shit voice. “I killed him.”
Christopher reclaimed his gun, fired two shots in Traveler’s head, and said, “Nope. I offed the motherfucker. Your conscience clear, baby.”
She stared at him a moment, her mouth moving but not one fucking sound coming out. Her eyes rolled back in her head and he just managed to reach her before she fucked herself up with a fall to the floor.
He brought her to their bedroom and laid her on the bed, staring at her. Right now, he was too jacked up with adrenaline from the past twenty-four hours to feel any regret on her behalf. She’d shot a motherfucker to save Christopher’s life and that impressed the fuck out of him.
Tucking her in and kissing her lips as her eyes fluttered open, he called Mortician. He and Digger had their hands full already, but, Traveler had to disappear, just like the other two.
After he explained the situation to Mort, Christopher disconnected the call and sat next to Megan.
“You okay?” he asked gruffly. She was still pale as well as droopy from the fizzy hangover, but she nodded.
“I-I’ll be fine,” she whispered and blinked. “I guess I failed the test for Bad Asses.”
Christopher frowned. “What the fuck you talkin’ about, Megan?”
“Sh-shooting somebody to s-save your life and then f-fainting.”
He stretched out next to her and gathered her in his arms. “In my book, you the baddest motherfucker alive, baby.”
She smiled sleepily at him and curled against him.
Stroking her hair, he kissed the top of her head, then sighed. “Megan, if I need to get a fuckin’ shrink on the payroll, let me know. ‘Cuz shit like this fuck with people and I’m wonderin’ if a little life-long therapy might be on the menu for you. Fuck what happened to you before we met for a moment. The past day has been one tough fuckin’ problem after the other, startin’ with that fuckin’ dead head.” He tightened his grip on her, Cee Cee’s intentions for her…Nope, wasn’t going there. “Let me make this clear about
that shot you gave Traveler. You disabled him. That’s all. He coulda survived it. Okay?”
Until he saw exactly where the wound Megan had given Traveler was located, he couldn’t be sure.
She remained silent for a couple minutes and then, “I would do it again to save you, Christopher,” she said softly. “I aimed for the biggest area on his body to increase my odds of hitting him.”
Christopher processed her words for a few minutes, nuzzled her neck when he felt her tremble. “You tellin’ me you woulda capped him in the head if you had better aim?”
Instead of answering, she pulled away, dark circles around her red rimmed eyes. More effects from what he’d given her. “I stabbed Thomas. Remember? To vindicate my mother.”
“Yeah, I know.” Christopher didn’t mean to sound so annoyed but the thought of her step fuckhead put him in a bad mood on a good day. He urged her head back to the crook of his arm.
“If-if…he was a threat to you. I didn’t think when I saw Traveler with his gun. I reacted. I don’t know if I was sure of my aim, if I would’ve fired at his head.”
A part of Christopher hoped not. Call him a crazy, contradictory motherfucker, but, he wanted her to keep her innocent sweetness. He needed her to keep it. That’s why he protected her as much as possible, especially from other bitches. He’d asked her to learn to shoot a gun and, yet, he didn’t want to look at her and know she was carrying.
A little snore reached his ears and he chuckled. She’d fallen asleep, well-deserved after playing Annie fucking Oakley. Easing his arm from under her head, Christopher got up and made his way back to the main room, where Mortician and Digger had arrived.
Mortician snapped his plastic gloves into place and looked at Christopher, reclaiming the cigarette hanging from his lips. “You always have to do head fucking shots, Prez?”
“Yeah, Outlaw,” Digger grunted, maneuvering Traveler’s body onto the tarp they’d brought in. “This chest wound would’ve done the job and only left us to deal with blood right now.”
“No the fuck that chest wound ain’t woulda done the fuckin’ job,” Christopher snapped, advancing on Digger, “and you ever let Megan hear you say that bullshit, I’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out. She feel fuckin’ bad enough about havin’ to shoot this motherfucker.”
Digger’s eyes widened, before his brow creased into a frown. “You telling me Megan shot Traveler?”
Christopher glared at Mortician.
“Sorry, brother,” he said with a shrug. “Didn’t get a chance to clue him in to all the details.” Mortician finished his cigarette while he filled Digger in on what Christopher had told him. “So, Prez is right,” he concluded. “We can’t have Meggie thinkin’ she killed this dumb fuck.”
The door opened and Val stomped in, sparing a brief glance at dead Traveler, then stomping toward the hallway.
“Hey!” Christopher called, concerned at Val’s attitude. He never ignored workplace situations. “What the fuck your problem?”
Val spun around. “A bitch named Zoann is my fucking problem,” he roared.
“Tell me somethin’ I don’t fuckin’ know,” Christopher said with a snort. He nodded to Mortician and Digger, then pointed to Traveler. “Get him the fuck outside. We have another two or three hours before he start to stiffen. I need a fuckin’ drink.” Which was what dead ass had interrupted Christopher from doing in the first place. Val remained in the entryway, clenching and unclenching his fists, pissed like a motherfucker. “Sit down, brother. If it’ll help to talk about the bitch, I’m all fuckin’ ears.” He grabbed a couple bottles of tequila and headed for his favorite table, in the corner, where he could observe every fucking thing.
Digger opened the door while Mortician hefted Traveler’s tarp covered body into his arms and carried him outside, allowing cold air to blast in for the moments it took the two brothers to complete the task.
Val slammed four glasses on the table, grabbed the bottle—swigged from it—then filled the glasses to the brim. “Don’t mind me. I’m ready to head to Cali whenever you ready to roll, Outlaw.”
“Just waitin’ for the confirmation call, brother.” Christopher drank from his glass before getting a smoke. “I don’t trust fuckin’ Bin not to have helped Cee Cee to set some type of fuckin’ trap.”
“Once Cee Cee is taken care of, are you going to be…” Mortician’s voice trailed off and he drew in a deep breath, so Christopher guessed what the question might be.
“Stay outta me and Megan’s business.”
Digger stretched, then stood and shook his leg. “I’ve been sitting five fucking minutes and the bitch fell asleep on me.” He shot Christopher an irritated look. “You need better workplace conditions, Prez. The meat shack not big enough to handle the volume we saw today.”
Mortician slapped the side of Digger’s head. “Stop being a pussy.”
“We not trying to get in your business with your woman,” Val began, squirming in his seat. “It’s just that Megan don’t deserve the shit you been handing her. She doesn’t do anything but love you and your boy and care about all us motherfuckers.”
“And that whiny bitch K-P sniffing after,” Digger added. “I can’t see how he could think about fucking her. Instead of screaming when her pussy is feeling good, she probably bursts into fucking tears.”
Christopher frowned and released smoke through his nose. “Yo’ fuck face, that is Megan’s Ma’s pussy you talkin’ about. Somethin’ I don’t even want to think about in any way, so shut the fuck up.” He glanced at Val. “As soon as I know Cee Cee is taken care of, I’m gonna make everythin’ up to her. I already had to put Big Joe to ground. Once I take care of Cee Cee, we’ll be all out of fathers who I have to fuck up for one reason or another, so we’ll be straight.”
Chapter 16
Meggie had had enough of Christopher’s distance and attitude. After being so sweet to her after The Incident, he’d withdrawn completely. And, now, two days later, he wasn’t spending any time with her. Or even at the club. He hadn’t been responsible for any of what had happened and neither had she, so she couldn’t understand why he’d retreat from her again.
Fed up, she decided to follow him in one of the spare cars on this particular cold, drizzly morning. She wasn’t sure what she expected. Deep down, she didn’t believe he was going to another woman, but, then again, Christopher always did the unexpected and her heart beat in a painful rhythm at the thought of her Outlaw putting his body inside another woman’s. Even confiding in another woman would break Meggie’s heart. He was a man who held a lot close to the chest, but, she also knew he’d confided in Kiera and Ellen before he’d met her, so, whether he realized it or not, he liked having the softness of a woman to lean on.
She swallowed and nausea bubbled to the surface, tears lurking at the corners of her eyes. Perfect. Just freaking perfect. The best way to get Christopher’s attention would be to burst into tears after suffering a bout of morning sickness. Morning sickness he knew nothing about since he hadn’t been around when it began.
Somehow, while ruminating and driving—yes, really smart Meggie—she’d managed to lose sight of his Harley. She sniffled and glanced around. The only reason—other than a woman—Christopher would be on this side of town was to visit the cemetery. Doubting he’d be there, but deciding to pass by anyway, she swiped at her tears. Within minutes, she was pulling in front of the place where both her father and his mother were buried. She squinted her eyes and started when she saw the chrome in Christopher’s bike brightening the dreary day.
Placing a hand on her belly to will the nausea away, she sat a few moments. Reasonably certain she wouldn’t throw up everything and her guts, she stepped out of the car and slammed the door. The cool droplets hit her warm skin and the wind lifted her hair. She wished she’d remembered to bring a jacket, but she’d been so determined to find Christopher. After getting CJ to her mom and throwing up, she’d ran out of the club in time to see which way Christopher had turned, glad
he’d already chosen a temporary car for her. She didn’t have to wait on someone finding her a vehicle, since her tainted Beetle had already disappeared. She’d probably broken a few speeding laws to catch up to Christopher, but, now, she’d found him.
Wrapping her arms around her waist, she made her way to Patricia’s grave, surprised when she didn’t find her husband there. She turned and glanced at the small rise in the distance where her father rested. She couldn’t see the expression on Christopher’s face, but she saw him staring in her direction, the wind whipping his black hair back and forth.
She scowled when she saw him take a long drink from a bottle. It was so early in the morning for him to be drinking. For the past few months, he’d waited until late afternoon before imbibing. As she glanced between the pathway and her husband, she walked toward him, reaching him a few moments later. A frown creased his brow, drawing his dark eyebrows together, the obscene length of his lashes ringing guarded green eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, since a graveyard was the absolute last place she’d expected to find him. “Is this where you’ve been disappearing to everyday?”
He shrugged, tasted his rum again, his big body tense. “Yeah.”
Meggie heaved in a breath. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk. They’d been through too much for him to just shut down like this. Blocking her out was unfair. At least give her the benefit of the doubt and share his problems.
She frowned. “Why?”
“Best place for me to be, Megan.”
“A graveyard?”
He rolled his eyes. “Ain’t this where the fuck I’m at?” he growled.
“Jerk!” she snapped. “I don’t need your sarcasm, Christopher Caldwell.”
“Christopher Caldwell?” He stepped closer to her, finally allowing only inches to separate them instead of three feet. “You my fuckin’ Ma or some shit?”
“No, but I am your wife.”
He flinched and Meggie’s heart sank, the fight draining out of her. The new baby was already taking a lot of her energy, so she didn’t have the heart to battle its father. “You don’t want to be married to me anymore?”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 50