Twenty minutes later, she walked out into the now deserted main room and waited a few moments, wondering if Johnnie would come and bid her farewell. Tell her he loved her. Ask her not to go.
But, he didn’t, and, after an additional ten minutes, she walked outside and gasped.
Two bikes were in the parking lot, not Johnnie’s, though. A white Navigator was there, though, with cans and bottles tied to it and a giant red bow.
Just Married and Johnnie <3 Kendall had been painted onto the glass. A big red bow sat on the hood.
The words mocked her and she burst into tears.
“Kendall?”
Stretch’s uncertain voice broke through her sobs.
“H-hey.”
He nodded to her and held up a set of keys. “John Boy asked me to give you these. Your title, registration, and proof of insurance are in the glove compartment.”
“Wh-where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
He glanced away from her and she knew he lied to her. He’d probably gone to the hospital to be with his Megs. The thought depressed her and she sniffled.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Stretch muttered. “He didn’t go to the hospital.” He shifted uncomfortably. “You’re going to get my ass beat.” He inched closer and pointed over his shoulder. “He’s there.”
“Where? On the pathway at Meggie’s house?” Her almost completed house.
“On the pathway at your house.”
Kendall reeled back.
Stretch inched closer to her. “He’s just had the land cleared,” he whispered. “He was going to tell you over your honeymoon, so you could start with floor plans.”
Covering her face, Kendall felt as if her entire world had exploded. Everything always happened to her. She always made mistakes, the wrong choices, said the wrong things.
“John Boy means well and he missed you a lot. If you can drive, leave before he get back. The only way this’ll stick with him is if you stick to your guns.”
“Suppose he calls my bluff?” she whispered, heart sore.
“Then you’re better off without each other if both of you have to keep bluffing your way through your relationship.”
He held up the keys again and she took them, watching dully as he loaded her Navigator, wondering if she’d ever get the help she truly needed to stand on her own two feet.
After Stretch removed all the wedding regalia, she drove away, leaving her heart behind.
Chapter Ten: The Cost of Cum
Christopher paced in Megan’s hospital room, not speaking, only raising his head to glare at her every few minutes. Twins? Motherfucking twins.
She had two babies in her, not one. Two little parasites that could take her away from him and all because of him. He hadn’t even made her pregnant when she’d forgotten her pill. She was already pregnant.
What kind of bullshit was that?
“Are you ready to talk now?” she asked in her sweet voice.
He wanted to kick something. Mainly, his own fucking insatiable dick. He couldn’t keep it the fuck out of Megan. Now look what the fuck had happened.
She was pregnant with twins, months too fucking early.
“You’re acting like a child,” she chastised, touching the tape on her hand that held the needle for her IV in place. “We need to talk.”
“What the fuck you want me to fuckin’ say, baby? This shit you goin’ through? My fuckin’ fault. That’s the fuckin’ cost of cum. Babies and abrupt placentas and two of them lil’ motherfuckers at one fuckin’ time.” Growling in frustration, he made a tight turn and almost yanked his hair out. “I ain’t believin’ this shit. I ain’t fuckin’ believin’ it. This shit unreal.”
Megan huffed out a breath and sat up, her intentions to get out of bed clear as a motherfucker. Alarmed, Christopher went to her and shoved her back. His reward was a fucked up screw-up of her face. “You can’t walk.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“You ain’t liftin’ shit. You ain’t gettin’ upset. You ain’t drivin’. You ain’t cookin’. You ain’t walkin’. You ain’t fuckin’. You ain’t doin’ none of that.”
“Can I pee?”
He frowned. “Well, you gotta piss and shit. What the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout.”
“I mean I have to pee,” she yelled, looking like she wanted to fuck him up.
“Why the fuck you ain’t said that?” He stomped to her, lifted her into his arms, and halted when she kicked her feet. “Keep fuckin’ still.”
“I need the IV pole, Christopher,” she said in frustration, pointing to her hand. “You’re going to make the needle come out.”
Attempting to figure out how to carry Megan and pull the metal pole, Christopher hissed when she dug her nails into his arm.
“I’m going to pee on you.”
Reluctant, he allowed her to grab the pole so she could guide it to the bathroom where he set her own her feet and folded his arms to wait. “Omigod, you’re such a control freak,” she complained, giving up her silent battle to make him leave.
He lifted her up once she finished and carried her back to the bed. When he laid her down, he pulled the sides up, ignoring her filthy look. In the space of ten minutes, he would’ve been fucked up so many ways if she’d been able to do it.
“I’m hirin’ Bunny as CJ nanny and your nurse.”
“My what?”
His head felt as if it would burst open. He was worried about Johnnie and wanted to talk to him. He needed to find Mortician and check on shit on that front. But he needed to make this right with Megan, but he couldn’t because, in this he had no control.
Sitting in the chair, he dropped his head into his hands. “I got Ghost to get me some abortion pills, Megan,” he admitted. “And, fuck, if I ain’t wishin’ all this bullshit wouldna come up, cuz I might’ve—”
“You were going to force pills in me?” she asked, sounding outraged.
That he continued to shock her amazed him. That meant, she still believed there was good in him.
“Yeah. Fuck…Megan…the thought of us havin’ more babies makes me so fuckin’ happy but I’m madder than a motherfucker, too. I don’t know how the fuck that can be.”
She was silent, so he raised his head. Angry disappointment greeted him and his insides clenched. At the sting in his shoulder, he realized he hadn’t even told her he’d been shot in Hawaii and questioned on the scene, but released with the statements of the other two women. Nor had he told her about Kendall’s bullshit.
“You would’ve killed our baby?”
His nostrils flared. “Yeah. To save you.”
“I’m not that important that you should kill an innocent baby,” she spat.
“Motherfucker innocent to you. To me, it—they—might be your fuckin’ murderers.”
Her cheeks reddened and she opened her mouth to blast him. Or tell him to get the fuck out. Or whatever, then she snapped it shut and lowered her lashes.
“What happens to you if something happens to me? What happens to CJ?”
He’d asked himself that a thousand times since the loss of their son. Each time, he reached the same conclusion and, each time, he rejected that conclusion. “What the fuck my life mean without you in it, Megan?”
“If I’d died—”
“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled, not wanting to think about her death let alone talk about it.
“You would’ve gone on and been the father CJ needed. He’s as much a part of me as he is you, and you would’ve wanted to raise him to help that part of me thrive.”
“I ain’t seein’ nothin’ of you in my boy. He look like I spit him the fuck out.”
Megan giggled. “You did in a way.”
He managed a smile. “I’m gettin’ a vasectomy,” he announced, the decision not up for discussion.
“Is that what you want?” she asked softly.
“Yeah.”
“I’m not getting rid of the babies.”
“I know,” he said tiredly.
“Let’s compromise, okay? I’ll follow the doctor’s orders to the letter, but whatever the OB allows me to do, you have to allow it, too.”
“What kinda fuckin’ compromise that is?”
“The kind that’ll keep me from punching you,” she answered with a prissy little sniff.
“What the fuck ever.” Resting his elbows on his knees, he looked at her. “Wherever you gotta go, I carry you.”
“Christopher—”
“I ain’t bullshittin’.”
“We’ve already established I’m not getting rid of the babies, so do I really have to make such an extreme compromise to put your mind at ease?”
He glowered at her.
“You’re unreasonable. That’s unreasonable,” she amended. “Impossible, too. Club duties won’t allow you to be around me 24/7.”
The little bitch actually sounded smug, pissing Christopher off. Pissed or not, she had the situation pegged right.
“You gotta promise me, baby, the first sign of trouble you goin’ to a hospital whether I’m there or not. And if it end up bein’ too much trouble, you get rid of them.”
“First sign of trouble, I promise I’ll call my doctor or go to the ER.”
“And the other fuckin’ part?”
She licked her lips and glanced away, a sure sign she lied. Megan couldn’t lie for shit. “Yes. Too much trouble and I get rid of them.”
Her monotone words didn’t comfort him. Megan wouldn’t ever intentionally destroy a life inside of her. She’d give up hers first.
“I’m going to be fine, Christopher,” she swore with conviction. “The babies will be, too. I promise.”
“You can’t make that fuckin’ type of promise, cuz you can’t tell the fuckin’ future.”
“But I can fight to have the future I want us to have.”
“I’m hatin’ my dick right ‘bout now.”
“Don’t. It’s a very beautiful part of your body.” She poked her tongue at him. “Delicious, too.”
“Wicked little pain in the ass motherfucker.”
“I opened my legs to you, so it isn’t only your fault.” She leaned over and tugged his hair. “If the doctor says I can make love, we are.”
“My dick feelin’ kinda dead right now, baby.” Motherfucker should’ve been dead weeks ago and it wouldn’t have caused so much trouble. “Even if you could fuck, I ain’t able to fuckin’ do it.”
They fell into silence, surprisingly comfortable considering everything that had happened. But that was just one of the precious qualities to his relationship with Megan. They didn’t need to always talk to get each other. He loved when she got her crazy on and he’d miss it for the next few months because he’d make sure it wouldn’t happen any time soon.
Although he was worried about Johnnie, he was happy Kendall wouldn’t be around with her bullshit to work on Megan. A thought occurred to him.
“I guess that’s it for your fuckin’ job.”
“You don’t have to sound so happy,” she grouched.
“You already got a full time job,” he pointed out. “Bein’ a husband and a daddy a fuckin’ job for me. This some hard ass shit. Worth every fuckin’ minute but, fuck, I need to get a fuckin’ paycheck myself.”
“Psycho.”
“Brat.”
He slid the chair forward and took her hand in his, laying it against his cheek.
“I’m your wicked little pain in the ass brat,” she told him gravely.
“Always, Megan,” he responded.
She caressed his jaw, her eyes shining with love and contentment. “Forever, Christopher.”
Epilogue:
Let the Dick Hacking Commence
Christopher stared at his two new babies, leaning his head against the viewing pane in awe. A boy and a girl. Rule and Rebel. Pretty fucked up names in his estimation, but Megan wanted them, so she got them.
Rebel had blonde fuzz on her head. At two days old, he couldn’t see much of himself or Megan in the baby, but he knew he was in trouble. She’d been born first, but she was smaller. Rule was bigger, louder, and had a head full of black hair. Another little him just like CJ.
Somehow, Megan made it all the way to thirty-four weeks before her doctor induced labor. A male motherfucker, too, that Christopher hated because he was legally allowed to look at Megan’s pussy. Not only at it, but in it.
Dr. Leicester was some type of special doctor who Megan needed to keep her well during her pregnancy, so Christopher suffered through it.
A little over a year ago, he’d been in this same hospital, waiting for the nurse to hand him Patrick and his heart had never hurt so terribly as it had when he’d held his son, knowing all the things he’d intended to show him and CJ would never come to pass.
He’d decided they wouldn’t have more babies, but Fate had different plans for him and Megan. All those who’d passed through this life and gone before them kept a good watch. Between Patrick and Big Joe—one looking up and the other look down—they kept Megan safe in the all-encompassing way impossible for Christopher.
No matter. What their immortal protection lacked, Christopher made up for. He was her shoulder, her weapon, her rock.
Rebel screwed up her little face to cry and Christopher’s heart turned over. He had a baby girl. A beautiful princess that would grow up and torture him in a different way than her mother had and always would.
He tapped the window, startling more than just his son and daughter. “Hey, boy. Rule. Me, you, and CJ gonna have a tough fuckin’ job with your Ma and your sister.”
Yeah, well Megan belonged to him, so they’d just have to worry about Rebel.
Fuck, that fuckin’ name. It just asked for trouble and rebellion.
A bunch of little fuckheads would be after her…fuck no.
Christopher would lose his shit. His girl wouldn’t fucking date until she was at least twenty-five.
Fuck, Megan wouldn’t go for that shit.
He scowled. “Well, boy, let the dick hackin’ commence.”
The End
Misguided
Kathryn C. Kelly
Edited by Crystal Cuffley
Cover by Crystal Cuffley
Copyright © 2014 by Kathryn Kelly
Copyright © 2014 Cover Art by Crystal Cuffley
Copyright © 2014 Cover Image Thomas Woolery, Ikonix Studio
Copyright © 2014 Cover Image Travis Lee Ferguson
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Manufactured in the United States of America
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
A biker: Lucas “Mortician” Banks stopped believing in love after a bitter betrayal. As Club Enforcer, the Death Dwellers MC is his home, where no rules exist and brotherhood rule. He never expected to fall for the daughter of K-P Andrews, a biker from the old guard, who is now deceased. Is love enough to survive secrets, brutality, and betrayal?
A beauty: Bailey Andrews was fascinated by the biker from the first moment they met. She seized the opportunity to have his phone number and, somehow, ended up married to him when she accompanied Mortician on a run to Las Vegas. She uncovers the connection between her father and Mortician’s father and the horrible betrayals it led to within the MC. Can she let the secrets stay buried? Or will she expose them and ruin her marriage to the only man she’ll ever love?
A bet: Smug in his assumption he’d never fall as hard for a woman as his Prez fell for a girl, Mortician put his money where his mouth was and made that bet. With 20Gs on the line and two weeks left before he wins or loses, Mortician has to decide if Bailey and their mar
riage is more important or saving face and keeping his money. Having only ever seen the destruction of love gone wrong, what will Mortician decide?
A baby: Now, Bailey’s pregnant with his baby and hiding another detrimental secret that she, herself, recently discovered. Will she have to choose between her life and the baby’s? Or will she find a way to save both herself and her child’s?
Warning: This is a brutal tale of worlds colliding—a mega-church with the command to destroy, powerful men with their own agendas, and raw, dirty bikers who will win at all costs. Contains violence, drug use, and excessive foul language.
In Memoriam
Mabel M. Polk
(1919-2014)
You belong to the ages now, MawMaw
Dedication
Travis Lee Ferguson, a gentleman and a class act. It was a pleasure working with you.
Table of Contents
Alpha
Part One: The Biker
Chapter One: Revelations
Chapter Two: Outlaw Decisions
Chapter Three: Pussy, Pussy, Pussy
Chapter Four: Going Back to Cali
Chapter Five: Are You a Boy or a Man?
Chapter Six: Earning the Patch
Chapter Seven: The Evil Within
Chapter Eight: Confessions
Chapter Nine: The Heist
Chapter Ten: Dwelling In Death
Chapter Eleven: Death Comes Calling
Chapter Twelve: Short & Shallow
Chapter Thirteen: Sharing Is Caring
Thirty-five Hours
Part Two: The Beauty
Chapter Fourteen: My Old Friend
Chapter Fifteen: Hugging the Columbia
Chapter Sixteen: Brain First
Chapter Seventeen: A Little Elvis Motherfucker
Chapter Eighteen: SOS
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 174