Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  Only then did Stretch and the other three focus on Kendall.

  Anger surged through her and she stormed to the driver’s side of the Mini Cooper. “I need to get away,” she snapped and slammed the door once she’d slipped behind the driver’s wheel, her mood worsening when she had to slide the seat back as far as it could go to accommodate her long legs.

  She could always demand her Mazda since she knew Johnnie hadn’t gotten rid of it yet. It was somewhere on the premises. He’d told her they were going to trade it in for another car and she’d agreed. Even though it was her car, she doubted anyone would bring it to her, so she’d have to deal with the Mini Cooper.

  “Kendall,” Stretch blurted, his face losing color, his concern turning to frustration. “Johnnie…I can’t let you leave.”

  “Tough shit,” she snarled, on the verge of losing it big-time. She didn’t feel particularly strong but she needed away. She needed to blot out the images of Caroline in her casket and the misery of feeling like she had no one in the world. “Open the gate or—“

  “Or what?” he returned, glaring at her. “I’m following fucking orders. I can’t let you leave. Take that shit up with John Boy.”

  “I will,” she fumed, refusing to get out and admit defeat, her bravado threatening to desert her. Then her mother’s face popped into Kendall’s head before morphing into the moment Marie pulled the trigger and painted Kendall with blood and brain and bone. She gripped the steering wheel to hold her trembles at bay. Unable to handle anything and having no one who understood her or wanted to understand her, she steeled her resolve. “I’m going to tell Johnnie how unhappy you’ve made me. How mean you’re being to me. Go ahead. Hold me here when I want to leave and see what he does to you because of that.”

  Disgust slipped into Stretch’s blue eyes and he clenched his jaw. “As long as you tell him you forced me to open this goddamn gate, leave. I don’t give a rat’s fuck. It’s your fucking life.” He jogged to the panel and pressed a few buttons, then waved her forward.

  Kendall paused as she pulled the car onto the street, her heart banging as the gate clanged closed, a dividing line between her and the security of the club. She glanced at her rearview mirror and found Stretch still at the gate, ready to reopen it for her. Her nostrils flared, a trapped feeling almost choking her. Alone and outside the gate, she felt like a wild animal escaping the confines of a cage. Searching for safety and shelter but not knowing how to find it.

  For almost everyone else, lockdown had ended, but Outlaw had decided Megan had to remain on the premises and Johnnie had followed his lead and demanded the same with her. Val tried that chauvinistic bullshit with Zoann and she’d told him to go fuck himself. It had surprised Kendall when even Megan tried to reason with Zoann. They’d all failed and Zoann had left the day of Johnnie’s release from the hospital.

  But Zoann had somewhere to go. Kendall didn’t—

  Her condo came to mind. Her mother’s house. While Kendall had leased her place, Marie had owned the house.

  Kendall shivered. The last time she’d been there, Marie had killed herself. Kendall had no idea what had become of the residence or her own, although she suspected Spoon had done something with both. According to the dashboard clock, one o’clock in the afternoon approached. If she remembered correctly, Spoon would be at his Meth lab today. He wouldn’t be at his MC or anywhere near her condo or Marie’s house. The club members who weren’t with him would be out doing pickups and deliveries or at the clubhouse taking care of business. A business that included selling girls.

  How could she have been with Spoon for so many months without knowing he trafficked people?

  A knock on the window pulled her out of her speculations and she jumped. Stretch’s handsome face peered through the window at her. Pressing the button on the door, she allowed the window to slide down.

  “Come back in, Kendall,” he coaxed. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, but Johnnie really don’t want you leaving right now.”

  “He isn’t here.”

  “He’s with Outlaw,” he said with a sigh. “They just want those assholes caught before you and Meggie can go here and there.”

  “Meggie might be happy to jump when Outlaw barks it at her, but I’m not as inclined to be Johnnie’s puppet.”

  Stretch crouched down, the wind blowing through his thick, brown hair. “Then don’t be. He wouldn’t want you to be,” he amended. “Just…he wants you safe. We all do.”

  “If he wanted me safe, he’d be here to look after me himself,” she pointed out, her anger growing at Stretch’s persistence. They were all tenacious. If Mortician wasn’t telling her to ease up on Megan, then one of them was demanding she follow Johnnie’s rules. “Now, move. I have to get going.”

  Irritation returned to Stretch’s eyes and he stood. “Okay. I tried, Kendall. One last piece of advice. This is Meggie’s car and she loves it. Don’t fuck it up or Outlaw is going to deal with you himself.”

  Belligerence roiled into her at the words, the absolute worst thing he could’ve said to her. Flipping him the finger, Kendall pressed the accelerator to the floor and sped away.

  Forty-five minutes later, she pulled to a stop in front of her old building. She didn’t have her car, so she didn’t have the parking tag to get into the private garage used for residents only. She stared at the pink stucco and red bricks on the building. Some units had big windows and white shutters. Others, like hers, had small balconies. Her plants must’ve died by now, the thought depressing her a little more.

  Tears clogged her throat and she forced herself forward. She had about another hour before Spoon and the other Torps would be roaming about again, so she needed to get a move on. Once she investigated her apartment, maybe, she’d be able to talk to management. Have her locks changed and—

  And what? And move back to her own place. Get away from the MC—and Megan Caldwell. She represented so much heartache to Kendall. In Megan, Kendall saw every mean girl she’d ever had to face in high school and every sorority girl she’d come across in college. She was an attention-whore just like the rest of them and spoke whatever came to her head because she had the world at her feet. A husband to take care of her every problem.

  Rubbing her forehead, she reached the residential entrance and punched in her access code. She lived on the second floor, so she decided to take the stairs. Hungrier by the minute, she’d soon need to eat—Baby Biker did too—so this pre-food exercise would do her good. When she opened the door that led to hallway, she stopped short.

  “Hi, Kendall.”

  “Erm, hi, Fred,” she murmured, forcing a smile at the security guard. He’d scared the shit out of her. “What are you doing here? Has something happened?”

  He gave her a toothy grin and adjusted his eyeglasses. “Saw you on the monitor,” he admitted. “We been seeing Mr. Spoon here on the regular and he said you had gone to Europe.” Fred bent his head and shifted his massive weight. “I’m really sorry about Marie.”

  Kendall’s nostrils flared, heat rushing through her at her rising grief.

  “Caroline decided to stay there?”

  No. Caroline was dead, something she couldn’t tell the kind man in front of her, so she nodded, unable to speak.

  He placed his fingers on her arm and squeezed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up…” His voice trailed off and he scrubbed his face, backing away. “I’m sorry.”

  Kendall nodded. “I’m just…I’m tired.” She started forward, edging past him.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He turned toward the elevator and jabbed the down button. “Let me know if you need anything. Blankets. Pillows. Whatever.”

  “I’ll stop by the office later or tomorrow,” she promised with a frown, wondering what he meant but too overwrought to continue any in-depth conversation. “Meanwhile, can you…I don’t feel like seeing Spoon tonight.”

  He straightened. “I’ll take care of it, ma’am. Don’t you worry.”

  “Thanks,�
� she threw over her shoulder, her mind already turning toward the safety of her apartment. She wondered if Johnnie would even miss her when he realized she’d left. Maybe, walking away from the club would be the only way to force Johnnie away from it, too.

  Reaching her door, she ignored the dried floral wreath—a new addition—and unlocked it, then stepped into her apartment. She gasped. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the glass balcony door, shimmering against the white tile. And nothing else. Not one piece of furnishing remained. Not a curtain. Her CD player and all her opera music…gone. Her art books and Sisley replicas…nowhere to be seen.

  She stumbled to her bedroom and pushed open the partially closed door. She froze, her heart sink to her feet. A nude, dark haired woman lay sprawled on the bed, her soft snores filling the small space.

  Kendall remembered this woman—one of Spoon’s favorite whores who stayed on her back and brought in a lot of money. She was also a mean, spiteful bitch and hated Kendall.

  Her closet door gaped open and Kendall glimpsed some of her clothes, the sight jerking her out of her shock. Reni turned to her side and Kendall backed up, the door knob poking her side. Reni’s phone started ringing and the woman groaned.

  Frantic, Kendall looked around, her nerves making it hard to think. Her gaze fell on the camera hanging in the corner, directed toward the doorway. One of the locations within the surveillance range. In between the camera and Kendall’s spot stood the bed.

  Reni sat up, her eyes widening when she saw Kendall. “Spoon, baby?”

  Kendall jumped back and spun on her shaky legs.

  “Yes, she’s here. What--?”

  Not sticking around to hear more, Kendall ran out of the door and headed for the staircase, praying Reni wasn’t carrying her gun. Of all the scenarios, she’d never expected Reni. Why hadn’t Fred told her?

  Bursting into the stairwell, Kendall’s breath escaped in short pants. By the time she reached the first floor, she had to pause to draw in air. Her lack of oxygen and food made her light-headed. Instead of going towards the residential entrance, Kendall tripped toward the atrium located near the security station and the leasing office. That greenery and the noisy fountain first drew Kendall to the place.

  “Kendall?” Fred called, his brow creased in concern. He caught her arms, the wall of monitors visible through the glass and steel walls of his office. “Are you okay?”

  No. “Yes,” she said, her heart rate calming down. “Spoon…his girlfriend is in my condo.”

  Sympathy joined Fred’s concern and he scratched his head. “Miss Reni up there?”

  She didn’t care that he’d known Spoon was using her house for another woman. She didn’t even care if Fred was aware of what Reni did for a living and on behalf of Spoon.

  A tall, rangy man sauntered onto the monitors, heading toward the private access gate. Gripping Fred’s hands, Kendall choked. “Spoon,” she whispered, on the verge of a panic attack. “Get me to my car. Please. Don’t let him see me.”

  “You need some department boys here?” he asked, referring to Portland PD. “I can—“

  “No.” A sob escaped her. “I need to get to my car. I need for him not to see me.”

  Uncertainty in his kind eyes, Fred nodded. “C’mon, then. I’ll get you to your car all safe and sound.”

  As good as his word, Fred got her to the Mini Cooper exactly as he promised. Not wasting any time with goodbyes, the moment Kendall slid in and started the ignition, she sped away.

  Only when she’d gotten on the road did she realize that, for once, something had gone in her favor. She’d had Megan’s car, so even if Spoon had tried to follow her, he would’ve been searching for a Mazda and not a Mini Cooper.

  Chapter 6

  The moment Kendall turned onto the dead end street and drove to the end to Johnnie’s clubhouse, she sagged in relief, never so glad to see an MC. Stretch opened the gate but didn’t acknowledge her other than to point to a spot where she needed to park Megan’s car.

  Johnnie’s Harley was parked near the entrance, next to Outlaw’s and a few others she didn’t recognize. The bikes were big, beautiful machines, hell on wheels, perfect matches for the men who rode them.

  Before she reached the door, it flew open and Val walked out, a bottle in his hand. His red-rimmed eyes gave his dilated pupils a wild edge. He seemed surprised to see her.

  “Where the fuck you coming from, babe?” he asked, his words confirming he hadn’t expected to run into her. “I thought you were somewhere inside. John Boy know you traipsing about.”

  “Where is he?” she asked, surprised at the normalcy in her voice. But she’d had over an hour to get herself together, thanks to the evening traffic.

  “At the ruins of Prez’s house. That’s where I’m headed to.” He let the door close and drank from the bottle of gin. “You need him?”

  Yes. Terribly. She needed him to hold her and tell her she’d get her life back. That Spoon wouldn’t dog her steps for the rest of her days. She shook her head. “I just…it was hard at the funeral home. I needed to get away from here,” she admitted. “I wish Spoon was out of the way.”

  Val smiled in understanding, surprising Kendall. He always looked so gruff and his tear drop tat scared the shit out of her. “Don’t let the motherfucker fuck with your head, babe. As long as you with us, he can’t do you fuck all. Okay? Johnnie is like a mad dog after Spoon.” He drank from the bottle again, deeper. “I almost feel sorry for the assfuck. Know what I mean? Just stay within the safety of the compound, babe. Spoon try to contact you, let John Boy know, but remember he’d need to get through us to get to you.”

  The road captain glanced over her shoulder and Kendall turned her head to see Johnnie and the others walking on the trail, heading to where she and Val stood. A breeze ruffled Johnnie’s hair, the late afternoon sun kissing his light blond hair.

  The enormity of her stupidity at her earlier actions hit her and she pressed a hand against her belly. She’d risked both herself and Johnnie’s Baby Biker. Johnnie would get Spoon, so she had nothing to worry about. She certainly didn’t need any of them pointing out the foolishness of visiting her condo, so she’d keep her mouth shut.

  Megan’s car was already removed from the parking lot, taken to wherever it was kept until Outlaw gave her a driving pass. The moment the group of men reached her, Outlaw barreled toward her.

  “Come with me,” he commanded, brushing past her and heading inside.

  Not indicating he knew what Outlaw wanted, Johnnie nodded, leaving Kendall no choice but to follow. Stepping into the clubhouse, she found it still crowded with brothers and their old ladies, who’d come in for K-P’s funeral, from out-of-town chapters of the Death Dwellers. Kendall heaved her shoulders, ignoring the cursory glances directed at her.

  “Christopher,” Megan called, just as they rounded the corner, going toward the offices instead of the bedrooms. Little Man had one thumb in his mouth and one hand fisted in her hair. “What’s going on?”

  Outlaw halted without warning and turned to his wife. “Talk to you in a minute. I gotta talk to Kendall right now.”

  A frown creased her brow, Megan’s blue gaze travelling between Kendall and her husband. “I haven’t seen you all day and I need to talk to you—“

  “And ten fuckin’ more minutes ain’t gonna fuckin’ hurt, baby. I got shit I’m doin’ and I need Kendall’s fuckin’ help.”

  A sense of satisfaction and vindication settled into Kendall. After Meggie’s bitchiness today, she received no more than she deserved.

  Meggie stared at Outlaw, a combination of anger and hurt lighting her tear-filled eyes. “Fine,” she snarled, throwing an evil glare to Kendall before turning on her heel and rushing away.

  “Fuck!” Outlaw barked, thrusting his hands through his hair. “Megan, baby, get the fuck back here.”

  In response, a door slammed.

  “Fuck me.” Outlaw swept Kendall with a cold glance, spun around and strode to his office.
He unlocked it, flipped on the overhead light, and waited until she entered before closing the door again.

  He tossed his keys onto his desk and dropped into his chair. “Get Brooks Reddin’ here,” he ordered without preamble.

  He hadn’t offered her a seat or an exchange of pleasantries, which Kendall appreciated. In his current mood, the fear coursing through her brought memories of Spoon’s assault rushing back.

  “You fuckin’ hear me?”

  Stepping back and gazing the distance to the door, she remained silent.

  Outlaw glared at her and got to his feet. She flinched, trembles assailing her. Instead of grabbing her as she believed he would, he threw open the door. “Johnnie,” he yelled, although Kendall couldn’t imagine how Johnnie would hear with the racket going on in the main room.

  She balled her fists, attempting to calm herself, surprised when Johnnie stepped in a minute later.

  “What the fuck did you say to her?” he bit out, scowling at Outlaw and drawing Kendall into his arms.

  “Just what the fuck I told you I was goin’ to fuckin’ say to her, motherfucker,” Outlaw growled with impatience.

  “Shhh, it’s okay,” Johnnie crooned, threading his fingers through her hair. She leaned into him, surrounded by his warmth and clutching him.

  “He was so an-angry,” she got out, the stress of the day converging upon her. “I…Spoon…I’m sorry,” she ended, not sure what she wanted to say.

  “Ignore him.” Johnnie pushed her out of his arms and framed her face, thumbing away her tears. “He’s a grumpy motherfucker.”

  “If you through puttin’ her at ease, then I let her answer my fuckin’ question.”

  Stepping in front of her, Johnnie tensed. “Give her a moment, Christopher,” he said tightly. “Let her feel safe.”

  “I don’t have fuckin’ time for her to feel fuckin’ safe. I gotta talk to Megan.”

  “Kendall could use some of the patience you show to Megs. Just for now.”

  Kendall peeped around Johnnie. Outlaw’s fierce expression made her swallow. He transferred it from Johnnie to her.