Reality has a way of changing perceptions. Both Megan and Christopher will have to find answers to some hard questions. Most important one?
Where do they go from here?
Warning: This story contains a little of Kendall Miller’s backstory and a present-day decision on her part. It isn’t for the faint of heart and isn’t a hearts-and-roses type of romance. It has a little intensity, a smidgeon of fighting, a lot of loving, and approximately 1360 ‘f’ words or variations thereof.
Dear Reader,
When I wrote the character of Kendall Miller, I never expected such a strong reaction to her. She has absolutely no middle ground. She’s either loved or hated.
Thank you so very much for being so immersed in the world of the Death Dwellers.
I ask that you give Kendall a chance. At the end of Misbehavior, it has been just under eight months since she first met Johnnie. A lot has happened to her in that time. She also didn’t have the easiest time growing up. She’s trying to find solid footing. For every ten steps she takes, she will backtrack another two. Read her scenes with an open mind and know that, in the end, she’ll get her HEA.
Much love to you,
Kat
Dedication
This is dedicated to my ballbusters and to-the-line-or-else crew: Deborah, Jordan, RB, Ashleigh, Michelle, CJ, Kristin, Melanie, Courtney and Tamala. All I can say is thank you. Y’all know why.
Mom, lead supervisor, shifts 1, 2, and 3 of the Wrecking Crew. I’m out of Kleenex and I’ve thrown all the red pens away.
Jen W., well you have like a whip and a basketball hanging over my head, so my compliance is a no-brainer.
Table of Contents
Prologue: Just Bite the Head
Chapter One: More
Chapter Two: A Wedding Date
Chapter Three: Tame Shit
Chapter Four: Life Is Just A Dream
Chapter Five: Options
Chapter Six: Outlaw’s Wife
Chapter Seven: This Shit Ain’t Real
Chapter Eight: That Can’t Be Right
Chapter Nine: I Promise
Chapter Ten: The Cost of Cum
Epilogue: Let the Dick Hacking Commence
Prologue: Just Bite the Head
“H-hi.”
The girls’ bathroom door slammed shut with a loud bang and Kendall Miller jumped, terrified that she’d offend a girl she’d been trying to befriend since 5th grade, two entire years.
She’d done everything possible to make the other girl like her. She’d tried to dress like her, although her clothes were nowhere near as expensive or as fancy. She’d begged her mother to allow her to buy hair dye to turn her hideous red hair to the same golden blonde as the other girl.
She’d starved herself, but the weight just wouldn’t come off. She hunched her shoulders to make herself shorter.
Nothing worked. At lunch she still ate in a corner by herself. No one talked to her or paid attention to her. Not even at home. Her mother had been released from the mental health facility months back after being unable to bear the loss of her husband. Marie was already pregnant again.
Kendall couldn’t wait to meet the new baby, sure it would make her mom happy again and they could be a real family. They’d love each other, have each other. Kendall didn’t need these mean girls, especially the school’s goddess. Blonde and tiny and blue-eyed.
Perfect.
Even her mom thought so.
Imagine Kendall’s surprise when Emily Riser passed a note to her in 3rd period, requesting Kendall’s presence in the girl’s bathroom right after lunch.
Now, Emily leaned forward and reapplied lip gloss, smacking her lips together and smirking at Kendall as their gazes met in the big, cracked mirror. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Emily considered Kendall from head-to-toe.
It was hard for Kendall not to squirm, so she clutched the edges of her shirt, sweat beading between her ever-growing breasts. A moment of disgust flashed on Emily’s lovely face and tears rushed to Kendall’s eyes.
“Well, hello, esquire.”
Licking her lips, Kendall hunched her shoulders at Emily’s halfway friendly tone. She wanted to tell her men were esquires, but, then, Emily would just repeat the different definitions found in the Oxford Dictionary. In the US, women could be referred to as esquires, as well. That wouldn’t matter, though. She’d just call Kendall a freak for challenging her.
“How’s your mom?” Emily giggled through the question.
Kendall cleared her throat. “L-leave my mom alone,” she said, wishing her voice could be as strong as Emily’s, but no one understood.
No one knew what it felt like to be ostracized. Or that when she was noticed, it was for ridicule and bullying. The teachers didn’t care. They told her she needed to toughen up. Worse, they told her to just ignore the words. If she kept tattling, she’d be held in detention.
She thought of slitting her wrists.
“I spoke to you,” Emily snapped, narrowing the blue eyes Kendall would never have. The ones everyone went crazy over. “I gave you permission to say hello to me. That doesn’t mean you’re good enough to ask me questions.”
Heat swept through Kendall and she bowed her head, swiping at a covert tear. Her 13th birthday was three weeks away and she’d been pining to go to the skating rink.
You’re too big and clumsy for me to waste my time,” Marie had screeched at her when she’d asked last week.
“B-but Emily goes all the time. And if I go for my birthday, she’ll be there and everyone could sing happy birthday to me.”
Marie had snorted. “As if that beautiful girl would pay attention to you.”
“You,” Emily spat now. “Idiot.”
Swiping her arm across her cheek, Kendall tried to smile. But she was scared and nervous. She had to do this right, so they’d finally like her. If they liked her, then maybe Marie might like her a little more, too. Kendall huffed in a breath, searching her mind.
Emily stomped past her and panic hit Kendall. She spun, intending to apologize to the little blonde.
The girl yanked the bathroom door opened. “Come on, girls,” she called.
Five seconds later, three other girls strutted in. One of them, Mary Martin, carried two backpacks—her own and Emily’s. Another girl, Dietrech Coles, clutched a brown bag, but settled her book bag between her feet on the floor.
Emily whispered something to them and they giggled. Kendall knew she was the butt of another of their jokes.
“We have a proposition for you.” Her eyes alight with a casual friendliness that Kendall had always longed for, Emily snatched the bag from Dietrech and opened it. She pulled out a jar with holes punctured in the top.
It must’ve been to keep alive the pretty butterfly inside. Its yellow and black wings were fluttering.
“We have a little project for you to do with the bug.”
“Insect,’ Kendall mumbled, still too loud.
Mary thumped her back. “Shut up, stupid. Know-it-all. We’re not here to get into a science lesson with you. Look your shit up before you open your big, stupid mouth.”
“I’m sorry,” Kendall blurted. And she was. She didn’t want them mad at her. She just had to remember to keep her opinions to herself.
“You are very sorry,” Emily said breezily, marching in front of Kendall and holding out the jar. “I wonder? If you jumped in front of moving traffic would I feel anything?”
“Relief?” Dietrech offered. “The waste of space would be gone.”
Any moment Kendall would throw up. She hated hearing them say that. It just made her want to do it.
“Not even her mom would miss her,” Mary said, pulling a candy bar out of her purse and unwrapping it. Biting into it, she cocked her head to the side. “Oh. Wait. She’s crazy, so she probably wouldn’t even know her goofy gorilla was gone.” She crunched through an almond. “She’d be seeing little Kendalls anyway. Isn’t that what psychos do? See shit that isn’t there? Vampires
walk through the walls. Bats drop from the ceilings.”
Unable to stop her sob, Kendall backed up, intending to head for the door, but Emily laid a gentle hand on Kendall’s arm. She looked so sympathetic.
“They’re mean, huh?”
“Yes,” Kendall said with a sniffle.
“I can make them stop. They’ll listen to me.” She rolled her eyes. “You know how it is, right? Everyone listens to me. They have to do what I say.”
Kendall nodded vigorously, unable to believe Emily was finally understanding her.
Holding the jar out to Kendall, Emily lowered her lashes. “We have a test for anyone who wants to hang out with us.”
“O-okay.”
“Sometimes, you have to go to extremes to get what you want.” Emily grinned. “This might be extreme to the losers of the world, but we all did it.”
“Wh-what?” Kendall asked, desperate, unable to stop her stuttering whenever she was around Emily.
“Bite the head off the butterfly and eat it.”
Horrified at the thought, Kendall stumbled back, but realized she was now surrounded by all four girls.
“I c-can’t—”
“You want to be with me, right?” Emily said in a song-song voice, tilting the jar from side-to-side and sliding the pretty butterfly up and down with the movements.
“Your birthday is next week, right?” Dietrech asked brightly. “Do this and we’ll give you a big party at Emily’s house.”
“It’s…it’s almost a month away,” Kendall corrected, torn between wanting what they offered and horror at what they wanted her to do.
“Just bite the head off and you’re in,” Mary added, a strange gleam in her eyes.
Okay. If that’s what it took to be accepted, she’d do it. She was sorry a butterfly had to pay with its life, but Kendall wanted friends and fun. After her father’s death, her life had just been grief and misery. At least when he’d been alive, she’d had someone to love her.
Unscrewing the jaw and snatching the butterfly, she bit back another sob at the feel of the fluttering wings against her fingers.
“You’re almost there,” Emily encouraged, gazing at Kendall through the fringes of her lashes. “Just bite and swallow.”
She could do this. Closing her eyes tightly, she followed the instructions given to her and whimpered at the feel of the butterfly’s head on her tongue. She attempted to push it down her throat, but her gag reflexes kicked in at her stomach’s near rebellion. Having no choice, she chewed a couple of times, shaking at the bitter squishiness in her mouth.
Finally, it was over. She opened her eyes, triumphant, anxious to hear Emily say that Kendall had passed the test.
Her smile faltered and her heart sank, the lifeless wings and headless body of the butterfly falling from her fingers.
Emily glared at her. “Freak!” she yelled. “Idiot. Ugly giant.”
“You’re so stupid,” Mary said. “Who bites off the head of a butterfly?”
“Kendall Miller does,” Dietrech chanted and poked her tongue out at Kendall. “As if we’d let a freak like you be around us.”
“You’re nothing but a sad sack of shit,” Emily said sweetly. “You’re a loser now and you’ll be a loser forever. No one will ever want you. I thought you would’ve known that by now, but, apparently, your pea-sized brain hasn’t gotten that message yet.”
After a couple of shoves and punches, the girls marched out, leaving Kendall alone once more.
And just a little more broken.
Present Day
Kendall’s sobs tore out of her as she related that story to her therapist. It was one of many that had been buried deep inside her psyche. One of many the therapy she was going through at her retreat in Hawaii was bringing up.
She needed Johnnie to protect her from this, but he’d sent her there. She hadn’t wanted to come. However, if she had dug her heels in and stood up to him, he would’ve walked away from her and their baby.
But she needed Johnnie. He loved her and protected her and wanted to help her. If only he’d marry her. Every time she brought it up, though, he changed the subject or he grunted a response here and there. Yesterday, he’d arrived, but turned right back around because of a club emergency. He’d been there an hour at most, not hearing her when she said she needed him to hold her and reassure her he’d take her back.
She glared at the woman who sat behind the desk, calmly watching her. “Was that memory necessary?” she spat, so furious she could scratch the therapist’s eyes out.
Dr. Barnes nodded. She was a small, birdlike woman, who, Kendall decided, was well-versed in torture. “You survived without them, didn’t you?”
“Emily and her bitches?”
“Yes.”
“It was a close call. I thought about listening to them,” she admitted, hating that she remembered the term waste of space. “But, yes, I survived. I didn’t need them to live my life.”
“And you don’t need Mr. Donovan,” the woman retorted.
“This isn’t the same,” Kendall insisted, her lips trembling. “I love Johnnie and he loves me. I’m having his baby.”
She could feel herself tipping the edge, on the verge of going off. Dr. Barnes wanted to refer her to a psychiatrist so Kendall could start an anti-depressant regimen, but Kendall wasn’t crazy. Everyone had mood swings and went off the deep end.
Besides, she was pregnant. Most antidepressants were Class C drugs. Not safe for use during pregnancy. She couldn’t risk her baby just to have calm thoughts. Anyway, she thought grumpily, the moment Johnnie set a date for their wedding, she’d be fine. He didn’t even have to marry her yet. All she wanted was a date.
She hopped to her feet. “Are we done for the day?”
“I’d like to talk about Mrs. Caldwell before you leave.”
“No.”
“Is it possible you’re seeing Emily in Megan?”
Blinking back her tears, Kendall rushed to the window. Outside, a curve of green shrubs arced along white sand and blue ocean. It was so serene here. Sometimes, she was able to get her thoughts together in her head. Other times, she still counted.
It was almost September. Almost her 31st birthday. Almost Meggie’s 20th.
It was close to eight months since she’d met Johnnie. Close to eight months since Spoon’s assault, her mother committing suicide in front of her, and Spoon holding her captive.
It was just over six months since she’d been sent back to Johnnie and her little sister had committed suicide.
A little over six months, too, since the disastrous day she’d lost her baby and almost her life.
“I can’t continue this session, Dr. Barnes,” Kendall said briskly, not waiting for the woman’s agreement.
She ran from the office, not stopping until she reached her room. The moment she did, she plopped on the bed and dialed Johnnie’s number, but it went to voicemail.
Kendall curled into a little ball, almost calling Meggie. But, she’d wait to talk to her until the morning time, like usual.
Tonight, she’d get herself together and analyze today’s session just like she’d been taught to do.
Chapter One: More
Christopher “Outlaw” Caldwell felt like pulling out his nine and shooting the fuck out of himself. The breeze blew through his hair while, behind him, the setting sun sank beneath the horizon, heralding in the first glimpse of nighttime. All around him, ridiculous fucking music—annoying like a motherfucker—and the voices of gleeful kids, excited babies, and overwhelmed parents kept him alert.
He wanted to motherfucking leave this bullshit amusement park, the last fucking place in the world he wanted to fucking be.
“Christopher!” Megan called, her tone filled with beautiful, fucking happiness, a sound he hadn’t heard from his wife in fucking weeks. Her carefree joy almost made this fucking torture worthwhile.
All-fucking-most.
For this bullshit, Megan would have to…
Wh
at…?
She already did what he asked of her, so spending the evening at an amusement park racing her in stupid fucking go-carts, feeling fucking ridiculous on the Ferris wheel, wanting to slap the fuck out of two dickheads screaming like pussified girls on the rollercoaster, and fucking with arcade games, shouldn’t have been such a pain in the fucking balls. He’d had enough miniature golf and bumper cars to last a fucking lifetime. And the fucking shame of the goddamn carousel.
The carou-fucking-sel. He’d sat in one of the carriages with Megan snuggled close to him, her eyes bright and sparkling.
They’d already been there for three fucking hours and he was considering having this motherfucker blown to bits and fucking pieces so Megan would never, fucking ever-ever-ever, get it in her head for them to have a motherfucking date here again.
Fucking never.
Every-fucking time, they ended up back at these motherfuckers. The go-carts. After the third fucking time stuffed into those small fuckers, he wised the fuck up and let Megan win. It became fucking clear to Christopher she wouldn’t move on until she beat him.
Climbing out of the cramped space and squelching the urge to kick the fuck out of the go-cart, he rolled his shoulders, moving off the platform and onto the solid ground, needing a fucking cigarette as much as he needed a fucking drink. Motherfuckers didn’t even fucking have the decency to sell fucking beer.
“I win!” Megan squealed, reaching him, jumping into his arms and kissing his face. He settled his hands on her ass. His dick jumped at the feel of her. “I told you I could beat you.”
Not answering, he sat her on her feet and dragged her toward the adjoining park. The deeper he pulled her into the dark and silent stands of trees, the tighter her fingers clutched his hand. Once he decided they were far enough away from everybody, he stopped and drew her into his arms, kissing her deeply. She tasted so fucking sweet, like the Dots candy she’d eaten a little while ago. He tongued her lips, wishing it was her pussy instead.
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