Megs giggled, although her voice still sounded high and unnatural. “I would but I haven’t seen our son in weeks. I just want to hold him a little while.”
Christopher smiled. “I’m going take a shower. John Boy, get back to the club and hold things down ‘til I get there.” And Christopher strolled past him, heading to his room. And the shower. And, ultimately, his closet, where the evidence of what should’ve been CJ’s death chamber remained.
Fuuuuuccccckkkk!
“Megs,” Johnnie whispered in desperation. “The fucking trash can is still in Christopher’s closet.”
“Your grandfather’s a pig,” she hissed, spinning on her heel, clutching her son, and calling for her husband.
“What the fuck you want, baby?” he called back, reappearing in the doorway a moment later. “We just got back after over a fuckin’ day of travelin’. I want to shower, get a handle on the situation, then take you to bed.”
“I need you at the club now.”
Christopher stared at her, then glared at Johnnie. “What the fuck goin’ on? This gotta do with that piece of shit, Logan, don’t it?”
Megs stepped toward him and nodded. “I’m going to tell you. Soon.”
“Soon ain’t good enough, Megan. Tell me now.”
“Trust me,” she whispered, hoarse. “Just come to the club. Let Johnnie finish here.”
Rubbing his eyes and then his neck, Christopher studied Megs. “It must be bad as a motherfucker if you tryin’ so hard to protect me.” He lifted a brow. “If you gonna tell me any fuckin’ way, why--?”
“Because sometimes hearing is better than seeing it for yourself,” she told him.
“If you worried I’m gonna turn into a assfuck to you, I ain’t ever—“
Megs smiled faintly and rolled her eyes. “You can’t help getting in your moods, Christopher. I have mine, too. But, no, I don’t think you’ll do that to me. I just think…” She rocked back on her heels. “Johnnie and I think…” She huffed out a breath. “Would you just stop being so difficult and let us protect you? Just trust me.”
Christopher sighed. “All right, brat. C’mon. Let’s get to the club. Wait. We gotta dress our boy.”
She grabbed a few blankets and wrapped Little Man in them. “I’ll dress him in our room there.”
Lifting Little Man into his arms, Christopher took Megs’s hand. As he guided her away, Megs spoke once more. “The kitchen needs airing out, Christopher. There’s a really funny smell in there.”
Tuning out Christopher’s response, Johnnie covered his hands with his face, knowing, with the arrival of Christopher and Megan, his problems were far from over.
Chapter 27
10 years earlier
Johnnie zeroed in on the bull’s eye. Satisfied he was on target, he threw the dagger, smiling in triumph when it landed dead center. He turned to Val and Mortician. “Take that, fuckheads.”
Mortician flipped him off and passed the joint to Val. “You either a gun man or a blade man,” he said in a cloud of smoke. “I’m a gun toting motherfucker, so I’m never gonna hit a target like that for knife throwing.”
“Nope,” Val said, sucking on the roll, then handing it to Johnnie, “you the fucking turkey carver, Mort.”
Johnnie puffed in. “So what the fuck am I?”
“One dangerous motherfucker,” Mortician answered, strolling to the bull’s eye they’d set up in a clearing in the wooded area behind the clubhouse. “You adaptable. A GQ looking asshole. A educated, proper talking snob. A patched-in member of the club. A motherfucker who can slit your fuckin’ throat and shoot your fuckin’ head off.”
“I agree,” Val said. “Chameleon motherfuckers like you dangerous, John Boy. I’d prefer to fuck with Christopher. At least I know he’ll fuck me up at the drop of a hat. With you? Can’t ever tell.”
“Yeah, John Boy, what happened to that shaking pussy we found full of vomit and sobbing over that stupid fuck cuz he’d killed him?”
Had he ever really been that guy? He barely remembered that side of him. Although only four years had passed between then and now—a lifetime had taken place in Johnnie’s world.
“He died that night along with the stupid motherfucker I beat to death.”
Amongst them, the truth of that night was an open secret. Big Joe knew, too, although Logan didn’t. His phone rang and he unclipped it from his waistband. “What, Snake?” he growled in answered.
“My dad gonna kill Logan, John Boy. Get over here.”
The furious roar of male voices rose up over the phone and he picked out the voices of both his grandfather and Boss. “Come with me,” he ordered Val and Mortician, starting toward his bike. “Christopher left yet?” he asked Snake as someone screamed.
“Hurry, Johnnie. Please.”
Johnnie hadn’t ever heard Snake so frightened. “Where’s Outlaw?”
“On the fucking road two hours ago.”
“Do something, Snake,” Johnnie cried when the sound of a gunshot broke through. “Knock one of them senseless. Or both of them. Then get the fuck out of there. We’re coming.”
Val and Mortician were already on their bikes, not asking questions because they trusted each other and kept watch over one another. The entire club was all for one and one for all. Still, there were pockets of guys who hung together, like him, Christopher, Val, and Mortician. Snake was there on the periphery, but Johnnie didn’t fucking trust him as far as he could smell him and Snake was one clean motherfucker, which meant he couldn’t trust him at all.
Ten minutes later, they were gliding to a stop in front of Logan’s farm. “Stay out here,” he said as he dismounted, noticing Snake’s bike parked next to Big Joe’s. “I’ll call you if I need you.”
“I hope you fuckin’ don’t,” Mortician called. “I can’t fuckin’ stand Lowman.”
Not answering, Johnnie jogged to the house and barreled through the front door, skidding to a halt. What. The. Fuck.
Snake stood in the center of the living room, holding one of his grandfather’s shotguns and pointing it at Big Joe while Logan sat with a dazed expression, his pants bloody around the thigh area. And tied to the fucking chair.
“You stupid motherfucker—” Johnnie began.
“You told me to do something. This was about the only fucking thing that got their attention.”
Johnnie scowled and stalked to Snake, jerking the shotgun out of his hands and opening the chamber, not really shocked to see the slugs in it. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“This isn’t much worse than your suggestion of knocking them out.”
“I’m a second away from knocking you the fuck out,” Johnnie growled. “Get out, you trigger happy fucker.” Knocking them out was vastly different from aiming a gun at them. Placing any type of weapon in Snake’s hands was never a good idea.
Once they were alone, Johnnie ignored the fury on Big Joe’s features and the resentment in his grandfather’s eyes as he came to a little more. Snake must’ve knocked Grandda senseless. “What’s going on here?”
“I think the boy has a right to know, you dirty motherfucker,” Big Joe snarled. “Your own fucking flesh and blood. I can’t fucking believe you could sell—”
“You and Christopher are brothers,” Logan blurted with such nonchalance Johnnie thought his grandfather was shitting him.
But he looked at Big Joe, the absolute and complete disgust and rage. The fact that he looked ready to strangle Grandda.
“What?”
“That’s what Joe wanted me to tell you,” he said, drawing in a heavy breath.
Big Joe released bitter laughter. “Oh, indeed, motherfucker.” He balled his fists. “Get out, John.”
“Are you shitting me?” he managed, his gaze roaming between the two of them. Because, really, both of them had to be shitting him. Grandda that he and Christopher were brothers and Big Joe that Johnnie could leave without an explanation for that bombshell.
The quietness alarmed him. “Somebody
better fucking answer me.”
“I had three children, Johnnie,” Logan began quietly and his long ago conversation with Big Joe came to him, the one when the man had told Johnnie his grandfather had had another daughter. “Your real father—” He rubbed his eyes and he directed an uneasy glance to Big Joe. “That’s Christopher’s father, too. He got to Patricia without my permission. Forced himself on her. Wanted to get my attention for a few of my dealings.” He shrugged. “He was a fucking friend of mine and I got on his bad side. He said if I let him have Tess, the score would be settled. All I asked was he don’t tell her. She ended up with a baby, too, so I sent her away. I’d intended to put you up for adoption, then she went and died not long after she had you. Got pneumonia, you know? The man you know as your father—my son—had been with her. We found a slut for him to marry and then he claimed you as his own. I couldn’t bear to part with you.” Tears rushed to his eyes. “My little girl was gone and my other girl had been violated.”
Johnnie let out a roar of rage a moment before he sprung on his grandfather and toppled his chair. He landed on top of him and pummeled.
“VALENTINE! MORTICIAN!” Big Joe’s yell danced on the fringes of Johnnie’s rage as the man wrapped his arms around him, attempting to unclasp his fingers from around Logan’s neck.
“All these fucking years. Goddamn you,” he snarled through clenched teeth, trying to break his fucking windpipe. “I’m going to fucking kill you and send you to fucking hell where you belong.”
By now, Mortician and Val had arrived and were assisting Big Joe in physically removing Johnnie from Logan.
“Let me fucking go!” he raged, jerking against the hold of the three men.
“Not until you calm the fuck down,” Big Joe told him.
“Fuck you. All of you knew all this all along and never fucking told me?”
“Not all of us,” Big Joe said, shaking him and squeezing his shoulders. “Christopher doesn’t know. Can’t ever fucking know.”
Christopher. His cousin’s…no, he thought with bitterness. Not his cousin. His brother. Just the thought of Christopher made Johnnie sag.
“You know what it’d do to the boy if he found out both of you are bastards alike, but Logan made him pay for…” Big Joe’s voice trailed off.
Logan had made Christopher pay for everything. Each one of his sins had fallen on Christopher’s shoulders.
“Let me go,” Johnnie repeated.
“Nope,” Mortician said, “cuz if what I’m hearing mean what the fuck I think it mean, I don’t trust you not to go fuck Lowman up.”
“Not that he don’t deserve it,” Val offered, “but we don’t need more bullshit to this twisted fucking tale.”
Big Joe paced between them while Johnnie’s head raced, his body vibrating with emotion. Finally, Boss paused and righted the chair Logan was still strapped to. If only Johnnie could wrap him in live electrical wire and hose him down with a shitload of water just for the hell of it.
“As much as I fucking detest letting you fucking live after every-fucking-thing. I could kill you for today alone. I’m sending you away.”
Logan shrugged. “I’m fucking tired, anyway, Joe. That’s why I handed over everything to you.”
“You’re not tired enough to fuck over your grandchildren,” Big Joe bit out.
Another bout of rage in the man’s features and Johnnie suspected there was more to this scene. Because this was old news. Big Joe had insinuated discrepancies in Johnnie’s parentage ten years ago.
“You’re a sick motherfucker, old man,” Big Joe said, turning his attention to Val, Mortician, and Johnnie.
“I’m swearing you three to secrecy in this entire matter. I don’t even want fucking Joey knowing. You have to swear to me Christopher will never find out about any of the shit that was said today. As far as we know, Logan disappeared.”
Johnnie drew in deep breaths, still so furious he could cut his grandfather into little pieces and not lose one bit of sleep over it. But Christopher needed him. He could finally repay him for all the times he’d stuck his neck out on Johnnie’s behalf. They were family. Brothers. Blood brothers. And, in some fucked up twist of fate that only existed in Logan’s sphere, they were cousins, too. The sons of two sisters, fathered by the same dickhead.
“I’m fine, Mort. Let me go.”
“If you go ape shit again, I’m gonna be pissed like a motherfucker,” Mortician warned, releasing Johnnie from his tight hold.
“You wanna hear about your father?” Logan asked.
Mortician bit the tip of a cigar then spat it out. “Lowman, I got to say, motherfuckers don’t wear insanity and stupidity well when they combined. Your insane ass bad enough, You got to get stuck on stupid and ask the man if he want to hear about some fuckhole you sold his mother to.”
But Logan was one stubborn motherfucker. “Johnnie?”
“I don’t ever want to think about the motherfucker,” Johnnie growled. “Far as I’m concerned, Christopher’s my cousin and my father is your son. I’ll never acknowledge anything different and I don’t ever want to hear anything fucking different.”
“You can take that shit to your grave, Logan,” Val said. “Boss didn’t want to call John Boy Iceman for nothing. He can be one cold-blooded motherfucker.”
Logan nodded, the proud smile on his battered face giving him a grotesque look. “I know. He’s a man after my own heart and I couldn’t be prouder.”
“I don’t want to have anything after you,” Johnnie spat. “What I want to know is why, Logan? Why did you shower me with love and gave Christopher nothing but shit?”
“My daughter was raped. That little motherfucker was nothing but a devil’s spawn.”
Big Joe rolled his eyes.
“Save your fucking breath, John Boy,” Mortician advised. “Can’t reason with fucking deranged people."
It would take Logan’s reappearance for Johnnie to discover just how deranged his grandfather really was.
Chapter 28
Kendall huddled in a corner, the noises sliding through her, her overactive imagination conjuring all sorts of awful scenarios regarding Johnnie. She shouldn’t have left him. He might need her help against his grandfather.
“Meggie!” a woman called and a small hush fell over the place.
“Bunny!” a girl squealed, barreling into Kendall’s line of vision. She wore heels, black leather pants. A cut covered her hot pink top and when she turned, Kendall noted the words Property of Outlaw. Her golden hair curled at the ends, blanketed her shoulders and back. But it was her face that made Kendall’s breath catch and she knew she looked at Johnnie’s Megs.
A small crowd had gathered around her. She accepted hugs from the women, but the men smiled and clapped her on the shoulder, as if she were untouchable. She worked her way through the crowd, unable to move very far without being stopped. She answered questions, pointed out various places as if she were giving information, and listened to whoever approached her, not bothered by the din that had returned after her initial greeting. The sounds of babies, laughter, shouts, curses, clanging glasses. With every step she took, she drew closer and closer to Kendal, Meggie removed her cut and folded it over her arms, revealing a small baby bump.
Finally, she reached Kendall’s table and greeted her. “Hi,” she said without hesitation. “It’s a bit of a shock returning home from my honeymoon to find the club on lockdown. I’m Meggie. You’re…?”
Of course, she wouldn’t know. In the hour Kendall had sat there, not one person had approached her. Instead of having this perfect girl come up to her, she preferred her anonymity. She met her blue gaze. “Kendall,” she responded, raising her chin and getting to her feet. “Johnnie’s.”
Meggie stared at Kendall, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “Umkay.” She brushed her hand through her hair, her brows drawing together. “Johnnie’s what?”
She really had no good reason to dislike Meggie, other than the fact of how much Johnnie liked
her. She seemed friendly enough, not even blinking at Kendall’s height. Nor had she stepped back, just secure in her perfect world. Perfect girls had perfect lives and always had everyone falling all over themselves to protect them. Looking at her, Kendall knew Megan had never had to face anything worse than a broken fingernail, so she saw everyone without feeling threatened.
She’d never known the grief Kendall was feeling or the humiliation of having a man not want her.
“Are you Johnnie’s girlfriend?” she went on, not picking up on Kendall’s jealousy and surging irritation. Or just ignoring it. “Where’d you meet?”
“Yes,” Kendall said with a haughty sniff. “I’m his girlfriend and I’m—” She almost blurted she was having his baby, but she stopped herself, not knowing who she knew. If the wrong person found out, it’d get back to Spoon. Kendall brushed off her words with a shrug. “I met him here, by the way. The night of Outlaw’s bachelor party who I’d been sent to entertain.”
Meggie processed the words for a moment before her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. “You’re the lady, aren’t you?” she almost snarled, taking a step toward Kendall. “The naked girl who was grinding on my husband.”
A small bit of doubt entered Kendall, and she questioned the wisdom of revealing that information. Meggie must know women threw themselves at her husband all the time. He might’ve been loyal enough to reject them and she might’ve been wallowing in that knowledge, but Kendall knew about real life. She nodded.
Her hand fluttering to her belly, Meggie stiffened. “And now you’re Johnnie’s girlfriend?” she asked with clear skepticism.
Digger stepped behind Meggie and wrapped his arms around her waist. She startled but she didn’t panic. “If it’s not Mrs. Caldwell,” he said, winking at Kendall, not picking up on the tension between them.
Meggie chuckled and laid her hands atop his. “Hey, you.”
“I see you met John Boy’s bitch,” he said conversationally, sucking in a breath and releasing Meggie when she slapped him.
She glared at him.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 82