Moncette’s grudge against Outlaw fit so perfectly with her plans toward Meggie. After everything Peyton had gone through, Fate was finally on her side.
It should’ve been so easy to seek vengeance, then reclaim her life. She’d actually left her residency to focus on this project.
Three years later, she still hadn’t succeeded.
Then, Moncette had vanished, and she suspected Outlaw and his club had something to do with it since the stupid fuck had shot Outlaw’s sister, Zoann.
Moncette’s disappearance left Peyton on her own to get to Megan. Although Digger had been easier to reel in than expected, he still wouldn’t put her in Megan’s path. Maybe, he was suspicious like that. Or, maybe, they were all required to protect the little cunt.
Or, maybe, Megan was as much of a slut as Ellen and gave pussy away to all the brothers, earning their loyalty with her body.
Whore or not, she was also so much more. Later, Peyton had discovered exactly what Megan was. The key. Sharper’s key, rather. The one he’d used to reveal all the missing links with such simple words to get Logan Donovan back in the States. Joe’s daughter is conspiring with Christopher.
Piece one had been resurrecting Logan Donovan.
Peyton scrunched her nose. Really, that had been mistake number one. Logan was killed. According to Digger, Johnnie had done the deed.
Oh, well.
Killing K-P filled in piece two of the puzzle. The execution had been flawless.
Piece three, the reason K-P had to die, were the goddamn letters in his possession. The ones revealing too much. Not only the extent of the sex ring but Sharper’s and Logan’s love affair.
Ironic how the man purported a racist had actually enjoyed sucking black dick.
Taking Bailey, K-P’s daughter, when she’d been pregnant with Mortician’s child garnered the attention of Outlaw sooner than anyone had wanted and put Sharper on his immediate radar when they’d involved Megan.
Unfortunately, the event led to Peyton’s second mistake. The day they’d gotten Bailey, Megan had been in the apartment. And Peyton had left her alive at Digger’s urging, a decision she regretted so fucking much. Fearing Sharper’s wrath, she’d complied with Digger’s orders not to harm Megan. Then, he’d just left the girl with those men. Knowing they’d kill her when he’d stopped Peyton. Megan had been pregnant again. Killing her at that time would’ve also freed Outlaw from the two additional brats she’d spat out of her pussy.
Outlaw shouldn’t have only one woman if it wasn’t Ellen.
Distracted, Peyton walked to the darkened bedroom, hating the isolation of the tiny place. The only thing she had to amuse herself was dick and pussy. She couldn’t even go shopping. Damn Digger and his stupidity. No matter how much she enjoyed all that Sharper had to offer, she could manipulate Digger a little easier, especially where money was concerned. He didn’t think he had anything else to offer a woman except bank.
The beeping of her phone pulled her back to the present and she scowled. She’d forgotten all about the thing. Craning her neck in all directions to assure herself she was alone, she crept to the bureau and opened one of the drawers. Luck was on her side that she was alone. Her carelessness could’ve gotten her caught. Instead of hiding the burner phone, she’d just left it laying on top of the socks in the drawer. As soon as she read the text message, she’d hide it properly. She didn’t need Digger to know about her access to the outside world when he wasn’t allowed the same privileges. What use was a phone to a dead man walking?
Must move ASAP. Outlaw knows your location and will move in next week. Strike first. Best opportunity at Bailey’s baby shower in ten days. Meggie is hosting. Will open gate as they walk from houses to club.
Peyton read the message. Once. Twice. Again. She didn’t misunderstand the words. They were quite clear. Somehow, Outlaw had discovered their location. Ellen always said the man had an uncanny ability to figure shit out. No doubt, if he’d tracked them.
Peyton read the message a fourth time and slid her finger over the screen in reverence. Relief settled into her, a breath of fresh air in her quest for vengeance. This message had to compel Sharper to act now rather than in a few weeks with a surprise attack. Under those circumstances, if they went in blasting, the Dwellers wouldn’t stand a chance.
Neither would Megan. Finally.
Smiling, Peyton placed the small cell phone in a pair of rolled up socks, shoved them to the back of the drawer, then slammed it shut.
She had no idea how anyone could betray someone they called family as Megan was being betrayed. True, Peyton hated the girl, but if you couldn’t trust those closest to you, then you couldn’t have faith in anyone.
The door opened, the winter brightness momentarily blinding her.
“Hey.” Tyler’s voice cracked around the word.
He really was a beautiful boy. A little unsure about what was right and what was wrong, but he’d understand in time. She’d help him to understand.
“Hi, love.”
Loping forward, he offered her a shy look. He still wasn’t comfortable with his body or hers. When he stopped in front of her, she reached up and curled her fingers around his twists, running her finger along his scalp. He wanted dreads like Osti and Digger had.
“What have you been doing today?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been talking to the girl. Jerri.”
Revulsion and hatred turned Peyton’s stomach. Jerri. The blonde.
“I’ve been telling her to cooperate. She’s the last one here.”
She was the last one there because of Peyton, not because of lack of cooperation. Peyton wanted her to suffer. Each time she hurt Jerri, she imagined it was Megan.
Peyton touched his smooth jaw. He was perfect, his puberty fueled sex drive something to behold.
“She’ll be leaving soon.”
The bitch had to go, especially if they’d leave for a few days to take out Megan and get into the club.
“Osti is fucking her right now.” His jaw clenched. “He won’t let me take her pussy anymore.”
Yes, because Tyler had taken it. The girl had fought like a little demon, but he was big and strong and had overpowered her.
Vaguely, she wondered what Mortician would think of the murderer and rapist his son was turning into.
“You like her, love?” she cooed, surprised that she’d wonder about Mortician’s feelings. As if she cared.
Uncertainty flashed in Tyler’s eyes and he straightened.
She stroked his chest. “Come on,” she coaxed, her fingers gliding over his hard cock. “You can tell me.”
“Father said not to get attached to any of them,” he admitted. After all, he was still a boy, easily manipulated for the time being, no matter the little killing and sex machine he was turning into. Some of the best killers needed direction. “But she’s so pretty.”
“Is it her blue eyes?” she asked, nipping his chin. “You don’t like my brown ones anymore?” She cocked her head to the side. “Or, maybe, all that golden hair?”
Just like that bitch.
When Peyton went to Jerri tonight, she’d humiliate her ten times worse than what she had since her arrival. The girls who’d been left alive had been sold off, which gave them the cash they needed to make a move.
“You’re dumping me already?” she continued coyly.
Tyler smiled faintly. “No, of course not. You’re pretty, too.”
“Prettier than Jerri?”
His gaze slid away and she had her answer, even before he decided to lie and shake his head. “Yes. You’re way prettier than she is.”
“I think I might reward you for that,” she breathed, then stepped back when Digger walked in and glared at her closeness to Tyler.
“Go the fuck to your room,” he growled to the boy.
Peyton rolled her eyes and watched as Tyler threw Digger a mutinous look. Digger took a step toward Tyler.
“I’m going,” he mumbled, stalking away. Despite T
yler testing his manhood, Digger was unpredictable. Whether he knew it or not, Tyler carried a certain fear of his uncle. He also respected him, but Digger wanted to be so unlike his father, he’d lost the authoritative edge he had on Tyler.
With Peyton’s and Sharper’s help.
“You really need to learn how to talk to him,” she chastised.
“I don’t have a pussy like you do,” he retorted, going to the cabinet and pulling out a bottle of vodka. “Unless I use my fucking fists on him, talking is all I got.”
She sashayed to the sofa and sat, wishing they were somewhere warmer so she could wear her short little skirts. At the moment, she was too covered up to effectively seduce Digger.
Patting the spot next to her, she said, “Join me?”
His nostrils flared and the inscrutability of his gaze made her a little nervous. He wasn’t armed, but he’d acted as if he hated her ever since the scene in the cabin with the girls.
“Please?”
He swigged from the bottle. “Say what the fuck you gotta say, girl,” he said irritably. “I can hear you perfectly fine from where I’m standing.”
“You don’t want me anymore?”
“I still fuck you, don’t I?”
“Not in the last week.”
“Why you worried about getting cock from me, when you get dick from the others?”
“Because you’re a good fuck.” And he was.
He smirked at her. “Ellen never complained.”
“That was a low blow,” she fired back, not wanting to think of Ellen going from a sexual being to a lifeless corpse. “According to her, Outlaw had a bigger cock and used it better than you.”
“And? As if I give a fuck.” If her retort angered him, he didn’t show it. “Ellen still opened her pussy to me.”
“You had his leftovers.”
“No, baby. She wasn’t fucking leftovers. She was all over. Outlaw didn’t plan to marry that cunt and suddenly drop her, and then I picked her up. Ellen fucked everything she saw.” Another swig. Another smirk. “Like you.”
She threw him a dirty look. “You’re such a fucking liar. You know as well as I do, Outlaw intended to marry Ellen.” She’d never told him that part, but he’d pissed her off, so she might as well let him know that she knew how Outlaw had thrown her sister over.
Shock flared in Digger’s eyes before he guffawed like she’d told some great joke, deepening her annoyance. “Whoohooo,” he hooted, leaning against the table and clapping his hands.
“Asshole,” she yelled, picking up the ashtray that sat on the lamp table and lobbing it in his direction.
Not only did he dodge it, he laughed harder.
“See how much you laugh when I blow Goldilocks’s fucking head off.” She intended to get her hands on a semi-automatic weapon. She wanted to obliterate Megan’s face.
Her fervent words put the brakes on Digger’s humor. “Don’t be a stupid bitch, Peyton. No one hurts Megan and lives to tell about it.”
“Megan,” she spat. “I’m sick of Megan. She killed my sister. She ruined Ellen’s engagement to Outlaw. Stole him away and sacrificed her to save her own life.”
Digger sat his bottle aside and advanced upon her, yanking her to her feet and shaking her. “Shut the fuck up. Meggie never lifted a fucking finger to hurt nobody and Outlaw never been engaged to no other bitch.”
“Liar!”
“I’m sick of your bullshit.” He grabbed her by the throat. “You the stupidest bitch I ever met.”
Her insides shook in anger and fear. For a moment, she believed Digger would kill her.
She grabbed at his wrist. “Please.” Fear of dying was her weakness. She still had too much living to do.
The pressure of his fingers lessened, but he still crowded her in, his presence swallowing her, overwhelming her with his beauty and leashed power. His big hands moved from her neck to her shoulders and he stared into her eyes, his brown ones holding not a shred of warmth.
“I don’t give a fuck if you have to avenge Moses,” he barked and she wished he’d use the low baritone he had as he made love to her. “Spitting out lies about Outlaw’s wife not ending well for you.”
“She fucked over Ellen,” she insisted because that’s what Ellen had told her. That’s what Ellen had been so heartbroken over. “And ruined her engagement to Outlaw.”
He went quiet and studied her, his grip loosening ever so slightly. “Ellen fucking lied to you, girl,” he told her gently, his temper calming as quickly as it had surged. Christ, the man was so blasted mercurial.
The way he regarded her almost made her believe he gave a damn about her. Not that it mattered. “Megan Foy had Ellen killed to save her own life!”
He shook her so hard her teeth rattled. His imagined tenderness and concern evaporated into blazing anger, his see-sawing emotions giving her whiplash. “That’s a fucking lie.”
“Please, help me,” she said with urgency. Her reason for her vengeful quest was out in the open between them. She didn’t want Digger’s loyalty to them. She wanted to own him. As long as he held out on assisting her with Megan, his loyalties were split. “She fucked over Ellen and she fucked over Outlaw. You can get her to me and I can avenge all of you.”
“I’m not hurting Meggie girl,” he yelled. “Case closed. I don’t know what the fuck Ellen told you about Megan but whatever it was, it was nothing but lies. Ellen—” He spat her sister’s name and the tone cut through Peyton— “threw more pussy around than a whore on a holiday. Yes, Outlaw fucked her and took her as his—”
“So you admit it!”
“As part of a threesome,” he gritted out, glaring at her. “Ellen knew fucking well she wasn’t anything more to Outlaw than pussy.”
“No! That’s not true,” she screeched. “Ellen said—”
“I don’t give a goddamn what Ellen said. Ellen lied. The only thing Meggie ever did for your sister was try and get along with her. She might not have liked it, but as long as Ellen didn’t give Meggie shit, Meggie tolerated her.”
As always, Peyton shook her head in denial. Did he know what he was saying? He refused to listen to Peyton’s words. Yes, her sister was hard and harsh, but she hadn’t lied about her relationship with Outlaw.
Peyton sagged against Digger and sobbed. Instead of offering her the comfort of his arms, he tensed and straightened. But she wanted someone to understand her crazed grief. Her sister hadn’t even had an open casket because most of her head had been shot away.
“Are you through?”
Peyton jerked away at Digger’s cold voice. His look chilled her. She sniffled, surprising herself at how real her tears were. She nodded curtly.
Without another word, he grabbed his bottle and stalked away.
Cunts were the most beautiful creation known to humankind. Color, size or appearance didn’t matter. Only, the fucking perfect feeling they brought about. That fucking exquisiteness when cum blasted the fuck from Christopher “Outlaw” Caldwell’s cock and into pussy. Like now.
After catching his breath, he nosed Megan’s hair, still connected to her in the most basic way. She kissed his sweaty chest, her fingers skimming the bridge of his spine. Resting his weight on one elbow and threading his fingers through her damp hair, he smiled at her.
Right after he’d filled her pretty cunt with his cum was the best time to share his cuntal views. When she laughed, he joined her, mock-wincing at her shoulder thump. She thought him the funniest motherfucker alive. On the other hand, he was being a romantic motherfucker on their second “second” wedding anniversary. The first “second” came four months ago and celebrated their civil ceremony. He knew Megan secretly preferred this one because it celebrated their big ass church wedding. And this was the one day of the year Christopher always promised his girl he’d be a mushy motherfucker just for her.
He preferred their original anniversary, which would come in several months and celebrate their third year of marriage. These different fucking dates co
uld confuse the fuck out of a motherfucker. It all resulted in the same fucking thing. Megan and her beautiful pussy legally belonged to him.
“All my ass fuckin’ sayin’, baby, is as beautiful as a woman cunt be, yours at the fuckin’ top. The way you fuckin’ keep all your golden pussy hairs so fuckin’ neat and trim. Your cunt just perfection and I’m the luckiest motherfucker alive to call it mine.”
Megan snuggled against him, her blue eyes so filled with adoration his chest hurt. “Thank you,” she said hoarsely. He’d fucked her so hard she’d been fucking breathless one minute and screaming his name the next. “I think.”
“What the fuck you mean? You think? I fuckin’ promised you once a fuckin’ year, I’d be fuckin’ romantic.”
“You are romantic, Christopher,” she swore. Lifting herself from the crook of his arm, she kissed him, binding her words as the gospel truth. Her pussy cream and his dick juice flavored their lips. He grunted at her taste, his cock jumping. The motherfucker never tired of getting into Megan. She spoiled him by giving him pussy almost anytime he wanted. He was a lucky motherfucker that she liked fucking so much.
Seeing his rising cock, she wrapped her little fingers around his base and he flexed his hips, surging into her pumps.
“Your hand feeling fuckin’ good, but your fuckin’ mouth would be better, dontcha think, baby?”
“Yes,” she breathed, sliding down his body, slanting light kisses along the way, branding his skin as only she could. His nerve endings prickled with the anticipation of her mouth on him. The silken fall of her hair and the softness of her small body tormented him, combining to make him one happy motherfucker.
His hips jerked when her breath finally fanned his cockhead a moment before she sucked him into her mouth. Closing his eyes, he groaned, fisting her hair and pumping into the up and down motion of her head.
“You suck my cock so fuckin’ good, baby.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 229