“Because she’s so perf—”
He pushed the door opened, filling the space with his big body. “Don’t say that shit one fucking more time. I wasn’t here for the big fuckup and even I’m tired of hearing the fucking word ‘perfect’. Meggie not perfect, Kendall. No bitch and no motherfucker on earth perfect.”
“Why are you always imparting these gems to me and not Johnnie?”
He shrugged. “I don’t have to say fuck all to you, Kendall. No fucking skin off my ass.”
“Why are you here?” she grumbled.
“Prez called us to the board room, so I’ve come to escort you there.”
Kendall wasn’t quite sure what to expect when she followed Mortician into the room. Whatever scenario she would’ve imagined, it wouldn’t have been seeing Outlaw and his officers—minus K-P—amidst Megan and a gorgeous brown haired woman, who couldn’t seem to not look at Val, Bailey, and the bruised and beaten woman who Megan had rushed to yesterday.
Outlaw’s mouth thinned, the only indication he knew she’d arrived. Johnnie’s gaze flickered to Megan, who gave him a sour look and shrugged. The barest of smiles played about his full lips and Kendall clearly read the words, thank you. Megan sniffed and glanced away.
Kendall tempered her hurt feelings and rising jealousy, not wanting to cause a big scene.
Mortician joined the men, who were looking at the women with grim expressions. Outlaw stepped at the head of the group, ready to address them. Before he said anything, however, he got a cigarette, hit it a couple times, then sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Fuck me.” He glanced at Bailey, then glared at Dinah. “Keep your bullshit to a minimum, hear me, Dinah?”
Megan glanced over her shoulder and frowned. She looked at her husband, then back to her mother before narrowing her eyes at the men. All the officers were there. Except one. She gasped, going chalk white, before lifting a brow to Outlaw. He nodded ever so slightly, stepped closer, even though a table separated them, and reached over to tip her chin up to his.
“I-I’m fine, Christopher,” she managed. “Just say it.”
Straightening, Outlaw’s attention focused on Bailey, who sat still and stony in her chair. “Ain’t no easy way to do the bullshit, Bailey,” he said gruffly. “Your pops…K-P gone, babe. He’s dead.”
A scream pierced the room, followed by loud, overwhelming sobs. When no one moved toward Bailey, Kendall realized it wasn’t her. Meggie slipped off her chair and crawled to her hysterical mother, wrapping her arms around her.
“I’m sorry, Momma,” she crooned, threading her fingers through her hair.
“Meggie, no! He can’t be gone!” She screamed again, jerking and flailing in Meggie’s arms.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” Outlaw snarled, stalking into the circle of women, grabbing his mother-in-law around the waist, and lifting her away from Megan.
“Christopher!” Megan screeched around a sob. “My mother needs me right now.”
“Dinah, shut the fuck UP!” he yelled, giving her a one armed shake. When she didn’t quiet, he signaled to Stretch. The moment the man reached him, Outlaw shoved Dinah into his arms as he stood in front of Megan, blocking her from leaving. “Shut her up, Stretch.”
“Don’t hurt my mother,” Meggie cried from behind him. He moved ever so slightly, leading Kendall to believe Meggie had shoved him much like she had Johnnie yesterday.
Outlaw scowled. “Don’t hurt her. Just stuff something in her mouth and shut her the fuck up. Now get her out of here.”
The moment Stretch hustled Dinah out, silence descended until the brown-haired woman spoke.
“Why am I here?” Her voice was cold and distant.
“To hear about K-P, Zoann,” Johnnie responded, speaking for the first time and joining Outlaw, stopping next to him. “Why do you think?”
She pulled in a breath, her nostrils flaring, and the moisture in her eyes hinting at the tears she held at bay. “Now I know. May I leave? Go back to my house?”
“You can get the fuck outta here and don’t fuckin’ come back,” Outlaw ordered with cold disgust.
God, the only thing that seemed to move this man was his wife. Otherwise, he was ice cold.
Val stepped forward. “You can go to the room or you can go out to the main room, Puff. No fucking where else until lockdown’s over. You especially can’t take my son away from here.”
“I hate you. All of you. But especially you, you, and you.” With each you she snarled, she indicated the man she meant—Val, Johnnie, and Christopher. She glared at Kendall. “Get out while you’re ahead. Before you’re pregnant for my dickhead cousin and he decides to start enjoying free pussy from everyone all over again.”
“That’s enough, Zoann,” Johnnie warned.
“The truth hurts, doesn’t it?” she spat. “You don’t want a baby any more than Val wants Ryan and any more than Christopher wants CJ.”
“Motherfuck me.” Christopher scooped Zoann in his arms, nudged the door opened when he reached it, and deposited her outside before slamming the door shut. “Do I gotta put another bitch out or are we fuckin’ straight?”
Meggie scooted her chair closer to Bailey, leaned toward her, and pulled her into her arms, murmuring to her and crying right along with her. Kendall wasn’t sure when Bailey started to cry—somewhere in the chaos of Dinah and Zoann. Unlike Dinah, Bailey’s silent sobs racked her shoulders and made Kendall’s grief rise up, too.
She had a dead mother and a dead sister and she had to grieve alone. She had no one’s shoulder to lean her head on like Bailey was doing to Megan. No one to listen to her memories.
Megan was just allowing Bailey to sob, mumble a few words, and sob a bit more. Christopher crouched down between the two of them, his arms fanning out to their backs.
“Are you sure?” he asked finally.
“Yes,” Bailey said around her sniffles.
“All right then,” Christopher agreed, glancing at Mortician, who stood against the wall, arms folded, doing his best to appear disinterested and uncaring.
Bailey rose to her feet and looked at Mortician. But the man didn’t budge. He clenched his jaw and turned his head away. His actions took the last of Bailey’s fight and she seemed to wilt. Instead of saying anything else, she ran out of the room.
He looked at Meggie and sucked his teeth. “Motherfuck, Megan. Stop calling me a piece of shit.”
“I haven’t said one word,” she snarled, swiping at her tears.
“This hard,” he confessed. “Okay, girl? I been knowing K-P…fuck…Meggie.” He swallowed. “K-P was one of the good ones. He was better to me and Digger than our old man.” He scratched his neck and stared at the ceiling. “This shit fucking hard,” he said again, blinking. “What the fuck I’m supposed to say to Bailey when I don’t know what the fuck to say to myself?”
Meggie nodded in understanding, her smile gentle. “She’s leaving, Mortician. After her dad’s funeral, she’s going to where her mother lives.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment and, then, “It’s best this way. I got nothing to offer her but a one way ticket to heartbreak.”
“Okay,” Meggie said quietly, and stood on her tiptoes to hug her husband. She caressed her jawline. “I’m going check on Momma.”
“Stay away from her right now, Megan,” Outlaw ordered, gnashing his teeth together. “Fuckin’ bitch shovin’ you and you fuckin’ pregnant. Ain’t fuckin’ happenin’. So until she calm the fuck down, don’t go near her.”
Meggie sighed and headed toward the door, passing between the club officers. “I’ll keep Stretch in there. You know I’m the only one who’ll be able to get through to her.”
They all snorted in disgust, but nodded in agreement. Meggie nodded at Kendall, but didn’t speak as she departed, leaving Kendall to stare at the men and wonder exactly what she was doing there. She’d stood the entire time.
Outlaw pulled out a bag of weed and handed it, along with cigarette paper, to
Johnnie, surprising Kendall. Johnnie used drugs?
“You need somethin’, Kendall?” Outlaw called, going to a cabinet and opening it to reveal bottles of alcohol.
“Why was I invited in here?”
He shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Megan wanted you here, so Megan got you here.” He opened a bottle of rum and pointed to Johnnie. “I guess for this motherfucker.” He pulled another bottle out, this one whisky and opened it. “You have any fuckin’ messages for Spoon?”
Unease slid through her and she glanced at Johnnie, who was frighteningly quiet and detached. “Sh-should I?”
“Yeah, Red,” Mortician offered, helping himself to the baggie and paper. “A last fuck you.”
“Any special way you want him fucked up?” Outlaw asked, serious. He didn’t bat an eyelash at his question. None of them did. They pulled out two more bottles, finished another roll. “Tell us now or for-fuckin-ever hold your peace.”
She squeaked, too shocked to do much else except shake her head.
“Okay, then get the fuck outta my face. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be free and lockdown will be over.”
Chapter 30
A little over an hour later, Johnnie wanted to vomit as he stared at a corpse for the first time in a long time. But it wasn’t just any corpse. It was K-P, dead for over twenty-four hours now. Killed. Something needed to be done with the body, but no one could decide what.
Megan seemed to believe he’d have a funeral. A funeral was no less than K-P deserved and it would give Bailey the closure she needed. Closure they all needed.
He wanted to release the same inhuman screams as Dinah. He felt sick. The horror, impotent anger, and grief reflecting on Val’s, Digger’s, Mortician’s, Stretch’s, and Christopher’s faces matched his own. No one spoke or said a word, merely stared. Mute.
K-P had been their friend and their cook and their voice of reason. And he’d been Bailey’s father. Now, what was left of him was spread out on the table in the meat shack. Logan had been vicious and Johnnie knew the blood he’d seen at that house hadn’t been his grandfather’s.
It had been K-P’s.
He reached out a hand and touched the man’s torso. Not an inch of skin remained on any part of his body. And his head…Jesus.
Caroline’s swinging body came to mind. Logan’s faceless one. The photos of all those unknown girls and the images of the women he did know. Dinah. Bailey. Zoann. Megan.
Kendall. She was stronger now. He saw it even if she didn’t. Within twenty-four hours, Spoon would be history. She’d be safe. Their baby would be safe.
She could get back to being an attorney. Away from him and Christopher and the club that she held herself apart from. Right now, he couldn’t hold her hand. The club had business to take care of. He had business to take care of. Coming clean with Christopher, for instance.
He understood she must’ve been hurting. Just as Bailey was hurting. But they—he—didn’t dwell in emotions. He faced them up to a point and moved on. That’s how he survived.
Kendall was different. She needed more. She needed his kisses.
She deserved his kisses. He’d never been a kisser, though. Not until Megan.
“Okay, fuckheads, give me five minutes alone with John Boy,” Christopher ordered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
Mortician stormed out, without saying a word.
Christopher glanced at K-P, then Johnnie before taking another drag on his cigarette. “Val, Stretch, Digger, go,” he said again
“Christopher—“
“This shit wasn’t your fault, John Peter,” Christopher began, calling him the name he’d used when they were still innocent children.
“Yes. It was. I shouldn’t have let him live. If he’d been dead, he wouldn’t have had a chance to do this.”
Christopher circled the table, examining K-P’s remains with surprising detachment. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before. But he was one of them. K-P was…had been…Jesus.
Johnnie flicked his cigarette onto the ground, stepped on it and returned to his morbid study.
“Then we both at fuckin’ fault,” he said after a moment. “Because I coulda fuckin’ offed him, too.”
“What’s the matter with you? How can you be so unfeeling now when you were on the verge of crying yesterday?”
“What the fuck you want me to say, Johnnie? Huh? Ain’t fuck I can say gonna bring K-P back or bring us the fuck back in time so we could take care of Logan.”
They stared at one another, both of them waiting, wanting something from the other that neither seemed able to give. That neither of them seemed able to fathom.
“K-P’s dead,” Johnnie repeated.
Christopher kicked a bucket that sat next to the table and sent it flying. “I CAN SEE THAT WITH MY OWN TWO FUCKIN’ EYES, MOTHERFUCKER,” he snarled, stalking around the table and lunging for Johnnie. “WHAT. Do. You. Want. Me. To. Say?” He shook him. “What? Seem kinda fittin’, yeah?” he continued a hint of wildness creeping into his voice. “K-P was the last of ‘em. Rack. Big Joe. Snake. When you fuckin’ think about it, he didn’t have any other fuckin’ end comin’ to him.”
The door opened and Val and Stretch stepped in, but Johnnie didn’t pause and neither did Christopher.
“Jesus, you’re cold. I thought Megan had warmed up your heart.”
Christopher slammed Johnnie away. “Keep Megan name fuckin’ out of this. No part of her belong in this fuckin’ death chamber.”
He should’ve done just that. But he was so fucking angry. At everyone. But most of all at himself. Because he’d fallen prey to Logan again and believed his bullshit. He wanted to fight and to kill, so he went on, unable to shut up.
“You asshole,” Johnnie snapped, pushed to the edge of his limits, not thinking anything through, just reacting. “I have every right to say whatever the fuck I want about her. You fucking left her with me and wanted to kill me because she jerked me off.”
Tension whirled into the room, sweeping away everything else.
“Megan did what to you?” Unlike the roar of his voice before, Christopher’s tone had turned deathly quiet. He’d gone pale, his fists balling at his sides.
“Don’t do this, Outlaw,” Val advised, shooting daggers at Johnnie. “Things too hard right now. Both of you need to cool off.”
No one breathed as Christopher stared at Johnnie, still like a statue who’d flare to life at any moment. He pointed a finger at Johnnie. “If you ever so much as look at Megan again, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”
Johnnie saw Christopher’s anger, but the hurt and betrayal was also unmistakable.
A muscle ticked in Christopher’s jaw. “Come to grips with who the fuck Logan was and move the fuck on. Cuz I hate to fuckin’ break it to you, your idol was a fuckin’ piece of shit and you ain’t ever had the fuckin’ balls to accept that. Grow the fuck up. But, most of all, stay the fuck away from my girl.”
Christopher stormed out and Stretch went behind him, his shoulders slumped.
Val stared at Johnnie. “You lost your fucking mind, John Boy?” he fumed.
Covering his face with his hands, he leaned against a wall. Yes. Yes, he had lost his fucking mind. He hadn’t stopped to consider his words, how they’d affect his relationship with his cousin. How they’d affect his cousin’s relationship with Megs. And the last thing he wanted to do was cause Megan pain. Coming between her and Christopher would certainly do that.
“Talk to me,” Val snarled.
“What do you want me to say?” he shouted, dropping his hands and glaring at Val.
Val walked up to him, the tear drop tat under his left eye wavering in and out of Johnnie’s vision as he focused on the man.
Johnnie straightened, that unreachable place, where only spilled blood appeased him, pulling at him. He struggled to stay sane, blotting out the image of reaching for the dagger stored in the silk-lined, inner pocket of his jacket, and slitting Val’s throat.
Val reac
hed for him and Johnnie shoved him away. “Get the fuck away from me, motherfucker,” he snarled.
“Fuck you,” Val shot back, not in the least intimidated. If worse came to worse, they’d probably kill each other. Val was as lethal as any one of them. “We brothers, fucker. We supposed to stick together. Outlaw finally pulling this shit together and you open your fucking mouth about old shit better left unsaid? Are you so jealous he has Megan you told him that shit on purpose, asswipe?”
Was he? No, he couldn’t be. He’d do anything for either of them and he had Kendall. Their baby. “I want them happy—“
“Could’ve fucking fooled me. You revealing shit like that ain’t exactly a recipe for happiness. Especially with Outlaw where his wife is concerned. You lucky he didn’t blow your fucking dick off.”
“He left her with me!” Johnnie barked, using the only defense that made any sense. “He knew what would happen.”
Val shrugged and rubbed his eyes, tired and sad. “You fucking blind? You don’t think this shit tearing him up and he need all of us right now.”
“He has Megan.”
Val scowled. “And you got Kendall. Even if you fucking didn’t, Megan don’t need you hurting her husband. She need you looking after him.”
Chapter 31
“I’ve never ventured so deeply into the forest,” Megs chirped from behind Johnnie, three hours later. “I hope you know the way back because I’m already lost and I haven’t seen Christopher so we can’t call him.”
Keeping a secure hold on CJ whose little legs dangled around Johnnie’s neck, he forced a chuckle. After what he’d said, he hoped Christopher came back tonight. “Almost there, sweetheart. I promise.”
“Where are we going?”
“I need to talk to you alone, so I thought I’d take you to my special place.”
“Shouldn’t you be taking Kendall?” she said with a sniff.
“I’m sorry you two got off to a bad start.”
“Whatever,” Megs retorted.
Although she’d agreed to walk with him when he’d found her in Dinah’s room, caressing her sleeping mother’s hair, Megs still acted distant. He wanted to clear the air between them without any distractions, needed to tell her the rest of his and Christopher’s story. She’d know what to do to keep Christopher sane—help him to forgive Johnnie, Mortician and Val—for keeping the secret of the true relationship from him.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 84