His father had. He’d demanded his mother fuck other men and watched them together. Marriage was just a legality and sex was just a necessary act to relieve the body. Love engaged the heart and soul, made a man want to better himself and give of himself. It made everything in life worth it and even turned sex into sheer and unadulterated pleasure, resembling his fulfilment when things were working for him and Zoann.
He tangled his hands in her hair. “You belong to me.”
She shook her head. “That’s a very nice thought, Matthew,” she said, her look so soft and sweet. “If the meaning behind it was right.”
Confused, he dropped his hands. “The meaning behind it is clear.”
“I’m not a possession,” she argued. “I’m a woman with real feelings. I hurt. I bleed. I want to belong to someone who belongs to me. And you never have.”
Hadn’t he, though? At least to his way of thinking. But he understood what she meant. He’d never shown her or opened up to her. What did she know about him? He was a biker. He liked to fuck.
On the other hand, what did he know about her? She could fight. She cooked. She’d been raped and betrayed by her grandfather. She’d wrongly struck back at the brother she’d never stopped loving. She was a wonderful mother and enjoyed her nursing career. He always got her to let her guard down with him. He was her weakness. She thought he had beautiful eyes filled with shit he never would’ve thought of.
She also had a deep well of love inside of her but needed someone she trusted to bestow it on. She was a loyal friend. Fuck, he knew Zoann. She’d let him in while he always hid from her.
“I had a shitty childhood,” he admitted finally. “I’ve been having sex since I was fucking twelve years old. With few exceptions, I’ve been engaged in some type of sexual activity every damn day. I belong to you, Puff. As much as I can. As much as I know how to.”
“You never told me much about your childhood. Did your mom know what you were doing?”
His sadness surprised him. “She knew,” he rasped, wanting to touch her but feeling dirty suddenly. “My father pimped her out. One of us, him or me, had to watch her to make sure her johns paid her and that they didn’t hurt her. My father had sex with men and women. Whoever. I was getting a daily dose of porn in real life and on the screen by the time I turned ten. My twelfth birthday present was two eighteen-year-olds fucking me. From then on, I lived one fucking fuck fest, until my dad got so fucking high one night, he started hallucinating and slit my mother’s throat.”
Zoann had gone pale at his story, her hands covering her mouth.
“I loved my folks and they loved me. My father never recovered from my mother’s death. He overdosed a year later and I think he took too much shit on purpose. He also burned our motherfucking house to the fucking ground, along with stacks of cash, guns, and drugs.”
His mother loved him, but she loved his dad more and spent her days and nights on her back with whoever his dad brought in to fuck her. Sometimes for free. Sometimes for pay. His mother liked to be dominated and his father had been so fucking good at dominating.
“After my old man’s death, I did what the fuck I had to do and went to one of the women I fucked on a regular basis. She allowed me to stay with her for two weeks, then threw me out. Her husband had returned from deployment. All the other chicks I knew scattered, so I ended up on the street for a few days, then got busted for stealing beer and candy.”
Seeing the tears glistening in Zoann’s eyes, Val stopped. The story of his life was sordid and ugly, nothing she should know about. She might look at him differently. See him as…less. He might’ve been, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Zoann thinking any worse about him than she already did.
So he kept to himself how he didn’t want to be fucking turned over to the state and had called his fuck buddy, begging her to bail him out. She had, but she’d also made a deal with him. She’d keep him with food, beer, and drugs if he fucked her and whoever she sent to pick him up whenever she sent them. With the stipulation not to send men to him, he’d agreed.
Zoann rubbed her hands over her face, so very sad. “He never…what happened to your mother’s body?”
He shrugged, the ache spreading in his heart. Although he’d take pussy any way he could get it, he loved hairy pussies best of all. Yeah, he was all kinds of fucked up but every time he watched his mother fuck, her hairy cunt was what drew his attention all the time. Besides, the porn his father liked had unshaved girls.
“I don’t know what happened to her,” he admitted bleakly. “My old man took her body somewhere. He never said where and retuned two days later.” He lit another cigarette, needing something to do, needing his fucking pills to make this go away. He’d never realized the beauty of true escapism until he’d gotten mixed up with the prescription meds.
Here and there, now and then, he dabbled with coke. Sometimes, April brought him weed laced with shit, but the pills disconnected him from reality. He forgot his fucking name when he took enough of them.
She stood and ran her fingers along his eyebrows, outlined the bridge of his nose and the curve of his jaw. “I-I have a date tonight and I’m going to look for an apartment to move to. I can’t stay here anymore, Matthew. I need…I can’t watch you with April anymore. Or any of those other girls.”
Val grabbed her hands and pulled her to him. She tensed and sucked in a breath. He knew why. He always remembered too late and, now, feeling as if she were slipping away from him, his irritation grew. “We can work,” he insisted. “I fuck up with you time and again, but, fuck, I don’t know how to fucking deal with you. But I’ll learn for you. I’m even thinking I don’t have to bother you to fuck. I can get club ass and—“
She slapped him and he surged to his feet. Hurt and disgust glimmered in her eyes. “I’m going out tonight,” she said crisply, turning on her heel and heading for the door. “Feel free to enjoy your club ass.”
She snatched open the door and ran headlong into Johnnie.
“Just the person I want to see,” he said coldly, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back into Val’s room. He shook her. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“Take a fucking walk and cool the fuck off, John Boy,” Val snarled. Johnnie’s treatment of Zoann added another layer of anger to the simmer. Things had been going so well between them, then she threw his offer in his face. He was trying to do what was best for her and him. “And get your fucking hands off Zoann.”
Ignoring Val’s words, Zoann shoved Johnnie back. “Behind the walls of this compound, Kendall knows she can say her stupid shit, Johnnie,” she flared, not backing down. “You know why? Because Meggie took responsibility for her part in Kendall’s fucking suicide mission and let everything go. You belong here as much as Christopher, but you have a choice to make. Get Kendall in check or fucking leave.”
Johnnie reached for Zoann and Val inserted himself in front of her. He threw Val a dirty look. “We’ve all made our peace. You’re here stirring the pot. Kendall needs patience. Do you know her devastation when she lost our baby? I love her and I refuse to allow anyone to hurt her.”
“Well, Johnnie, too fucking bad,” Zoann said, stepping on the side of Val, hands on her hips. “I grew up with you. We’re family, so I have to respect your choice. But I don’t love her and I don’t like her and I don’t respect her.”
Frustration dropped into Johnnie’s face and he thrust his fingers through his hair. “She’s been through so fucking much. Can’t you understand that? Am I going to have to go through with you and Kendall the same bullshit I had to go through with Megs and Kendall?”
“Fuck no, asshole,” she spat. “All Meggie wanted was fair treatment from Kendall. I want nothing from that bitch.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Johnnie rubbed his neck. “I know…Fuck, Zoann…I know my behavior leaves a lot to be desired. I get that and I’m fucking grateful that Megs is trying to get everyone to accept Kendall. She’s going to counseling, sweetheart. Give h
er another chance.”
“If she apologizes.”
“Are you fucking—“
He snapped his mouth shut at Zoann’s glare and gritted his teeth, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Maybe, Johnnie really did love that bitch. “Fine. She’ll apologize to you.”
“Okay, then. I’ll give her one more chance.”
She started past Johnnie, but his words stopped her. “She’s been hurt through and through. She had everything taken away from her. No matter what you’ve been through, you had people who loved you. Until she met me, she never knew real love. She’s never had girls for friends before. What she said earlier about the baby was between her and Meggie, if there was a problem. It wasn’t your place to get involved.”
“No, but it was yours. She never knew love? So what, Johnnie? That doesn’t excuse her behavior. You don’t want to upset her? Fine. I have no problem doing it. Maybe, she needs another woman to tell her how fucked up she’s being. And, maybe, Christopher needs to beat the shit out of you to knock sense into your head, dummy.”
“Meggie waiting on you outside, Zoann,” Mortician announced, walking past Johnnie and sighing. He looked like one miserable motherfucker and it all went back to Bailey.
“We’ll continue our discussion later, Puff,” Val called.
She slammed the door shut in response.
“Fucking bitches, man,” Mort growled. He went to Val’s desk and opened the drawer, pulling out the nearly empty bottle of rum and finishing it off. “I don’t ever want to see another pregnant girl in my fucking life.” He leaned on the desk and hung his head. “John Boy, you got to get Red under control. She got Bailey to come here. We having as much patience with your woman as possible, but fuck. I’m telling you Prez letting a lot of shit slide with her. All that mean is his resentment fucking building and he going to blow and fuck Kendall up bad.”
“He wouldn’t dare—”
“Shut up,” Mortician snapped, stalking to him. “You know we all fucking right. We can’t get her under control until you fucking do. You know she wrong with most of the shit she do around this motherfucker. After all the bullshit went down a few months ago, we should be past this bullshit.”
“We are past it. It was Zoann—”
“Zoann put your bitch in her fucking place,” Val said, going to his closet to get an unopened bottle of alcohol, not giving a fuck what it was. “Whatever else Zoann is, she’s related to you and Outlaw—”
“And fucking Lowman,” Mortician put in. “That make Chester one scary fucking bitch. The girl don’t fucking play which mean you going to be picking up Red’s teeth pretty fucking soon.”
Johnnie went to the window and looked out, not even turning when Outlaw walked in and bored holes into Johnnie’s back. John Boy stiffened, aware of the presence from hell, but pretending otherwise.
“What, Christopher?” he asked finally.
“You ain’t wantin’ me to go to your fuckin’ bitch, so I’m bringin’ it to you, motherfucker. We ain’t goin’ through this bullshit a-fuckin-gain. Hear me, Johnnie? You might need to get your bitch a house far the fuck away from our club to keep her away.”
“I don’t want to lose her.”
Val swigged from his bottle. “Moving her to another house will lose her?”
None of them mentioned that Outlaw talked about getting all the girls away from here and only allow them to visit. Meggie, Kendall, Zoann, even Bailey distracted them from club business. And Val didn’t even want to fucking consider whiny fucking Dinah. When it was just Meggie living here, shit was workable. Peaceful even. But too many bitches under one roof fucked everything.
“Tell Red the reasons,” Mortician said. “She might like that better, anyway. Because, John Boy, she has to stop interfering. And I think she like Meggie. I really do. But Red just have it in her to fucking compete with Meggie. Meggie take it in stride, but talking about the baby she lost? C’mon, Johnnie. That wasn’t right. You know it. I know it. We all fucking know it.”
Johnnie half turned and addressed Outlaw. “They’re right and I’m sorry she did that. She didn’t mean it. And, yes, I need to talk to her. Perhaps, I’m not giving her enough credit. She’s come a long way since she started counseling, so, maybe, she won’t feel like I’m attacking her if I have a heart-to-heart conversation with her.”
“If you ain’t able to talk about every-fuckin-thing with Kendall, shit ain’t fuckin’ real, anyway,” Outlaw said in a hard voice.
“It’s real between us,” Johnnie insisted, clamping his jaw shut.
“Then let her fuckin’ kick and scream and throw shit and accuse you of attackin’ her to high fuckin’ heaven. I don’t give a fuck, cuz, Johnnie, I fuckin’ swear if she ever bring that bullshit up again, I think I might fuckin’ kill her and free you the fuck up to find a bitch with fuckin’ sense.”
Chapter Seventeen
Of. All. The. Fucking. Bitches.
Zoann scowled at Kendall sitting in the back seat of the car. Meggie shifted in the passenger seat, nervous. Stalking to her car, Zoann threw open the door, intending to kick Kendall the fuck out. Johnnie might enable her, but she wouldn’t.
Besides, her run in with Matthew had left her uncertain. As he’d carried her from the main room, she’d been so furious with Kendall and had wanted to beat her to the ground. In another time and place, she might’ve appreciated Kendall’s straightforward approach. She was pretty direct herself. But, sometimes, situations required delicacy. Surely, Kendall knew that.
Maybe, she didn’t. Zoann thought she, herself, knew she needed to stay as far away from Matthew as possible. She knew they were toxic for one another. And, yet, she would’ve made love to him today. She’d searched for courage to prompt him to go on. Sometimes, she just wanted him and he’d caught her with her defenses down, when her blood ran hot and need pulsated through her.
Kendall’s sour frown interrupted Zoann’s contemplation. “Meggie invited me.”
Meggie stiffened and clenched her jaw, balling her fists in her lap, but not speaking. She turned her head and looked out the window.
A flicker of uncertainty entered Kendall’s eyes and she bowed her head. She’d had a similar look earlier, then she’d glanced at Johnnie and took his nod as the go-ahead to attempt to intimidate Zoann. That would be the day Frosty the Snowman’s balls survived in hell.
Huffing in agitation, Zoann flounced into her car, slamming the door with enough force to break the glass. She swerved to the gate and screeched to a halt. Stretch nodded, apparently already informed of their departure. Seeing the two bikers right behind the car, their Harleys idling, didn’t surprise her. If Christopher couldn’t go with Meggie, a protection detail was assigned to her.
“So what’s on the agenda, Meggie?” Zoann asked, wanting the sweet, busy girl she’d met to return.
Meggie helped Zoann at every turn. She matriculated and fulfilled her club responsibilities as Christopher’s old lady, but her happiness had been extinguished. She knew why. She also knew of Christopher’s edict to remain silent about Meggie’s loss, but Zoann refused to watch her friend suffer.
Christopher could go fuck himself. With no other alternative, she dived headlong into the conversation.
“You’ve got to forgive yourself.” She reached the stoplight and paused, seizing the opportunity to steal a glance at her sister-in-law. “It’s the only way to heal.”
Meggie lifted her gaze to the rearview mirror, then bowed her head and wrung her hands together. “I shouldn’t have gone,” she mumbled.
The light changed and Zoann started off again, not sure why she’d even brought this up now in front of that bitch on the backseat. But Meggie had helped Zoann and encouraged Ophelia to make contact with Christopher. Dinah wasn’t any good to herself, so she’d be no good to the daughter who needed her.
She rode in silence, searching for the right words to make her point. “Grieve as long as you need to, baby. It hurts. I know. But your guilt…your guilt isn’t doing
anyone any good, especially yourself.”
“Suppose Christopher really doesn’t want another baby?”
Zoann understood why he wouldn’t, but that affected Meggie, too.
“It’s your body, too,” Kendall snipped. “If you want another baby, then have another baby.”
Gripping the steering wheel and counting to ten, Zoann missed her turn off. She cursed, not speaking again until they headed on the correct route. “Christopher loves you. You know that, right?”
“Of course,” she said without hesitation.
“But he’s still Christopher.”
Meggie sighed. “Lately, he’s been Outlaw.”
Just like Matthew was still Val. Wounded from childhood horrors he’d never told Zoann about. She wanted to weep for the little boy he’d been and the man he’d become. He’d shared a lot with her today and so many words were on the tip of her tongue. She’d gotten a clearer picture of him. Her damaged knight with rusty armor.
For a moment, his tarnish had been fine. He’d been hers and she’d understood him. In a fleeting second, she’d forgiven him. Nothing mattered anymore. Just them and their children. Their future. But, then, he’d mentioned other women—dick sucking—and she’d reacted in her usual manner. With resentment and hostility, panic and frustration.
Dummy.
“Christopher won’t tell me what’s going on or why everything is so tense,” Meggie spoke into the silence. “I just know he’s facing another threat and he’s distant.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 139