Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “Shut up,” Johnnie snapped on a growl. “Don’t talk about Christopher getting killed. Fuck. I could’ve just as easily been killed. Or you. Or Megan.” Whatever Christopher couldn’t see annoyed the fuck out of Johnnie, as indicated by his, “I didn’t fucking mean anything by that statement about Megan.”

  Christopher wouldn’t even speculate on the look Kendall gave Johnnie when he’d mentioned Megan. If the bitch had seen the way Johnnie touched Megan earlier, she would really lose her shit.

  “I know you’re emotional right now, but you need to talk to the doctor.”

  “I don’t want to hurt the baby,” she said glumly. “Antidepressants during pregnancy is fine. It’s my choice not to take them.”

  Johnnie drew in a deep breath and so did Christopher. Fuck, she was having another kid for Johnnie. Pregnancy left her more fucking hormonally challenged than usual. Fuck, that must’ve been what she wanted to talk to Johnnie about the other night.

  “Did you tell him I’m pregnant?”

  “No. It isn’t as if he gives a fuck.”

  Nope, he sure the fuck didn’t.

  “As for the other shit, if I have to be president I will, but I’m hoping he’ll stay. Fuck. I was just fucking venting. He didn’t even do anything wrong. I didn’t expect him to fucking agree with me.”

  “In defense of him,” Kendall began grouchily, “he’s as stressed out as you are. With Meggie still out, you couldn’t expect him to respond any other way, Johnnie. In essence, you were making him choose between the club and his wife. Did you really expect him to respond any other way?”

  Yeah, the motherfucker did.

  “Yes, fuck!” Johnnie snapped, confirming what Christopher already knew. “We don’t fucking live forever. Sharper wants Megan dead and I’m fucking betting he’s not going to stop until he sees that happen. Then what? Christopher just turns his back on his club and his children?”

  “You don’t have much faith in his abilities if you think he’ll so easily let Meggie die.”

  Motherfucker sure the fuck don’t. Who fucking knew?

  “That’s where you’re wrong, but Sharper has stayed one step ahead of us for months. In spite of all the resources Christopher has put into finding him.”

  For a moment, the music went silent, making Christopher realize that shit had been drumming in his head right along with this fucked-up conversation. Why the fuck was he eavesdropping any fucking way? Because he found it quite fucking interesting to hear the fucking dynamics in their relationship. For all the motherfucker’s complaining about Megan bossing Christopher, Johnnie allowed his bitch to do the same fucking thing to him.

  “You told him he hadn’t been looking for Sharper.”

  “No, I didn’t, Kendall. I said he hadn’t been searching for Digger. If you find one, you find the other.”

  “Think about what you’re saying, Johnnie. Digger is Mortician’s brother and Outlaw’s friend. Yours, too. Don’t you think those factors weighed in his decision to back off?”

  Johnnie snorted. “Big Joe was like a father to Christopher. That didn’t stop him from doing what needed to be done. Digger left Megan to fucking die. That’s unforgivable, so she’s the only fucking person who’d change his mind about how he dealt with Digger.”

  “I see,” she said tightly, then cleared her throat. “What stopped you from finding Digger yourself? Remind me because I seemed to have missed that memo. Had you found him for committing the unforgivable sin of leaving Meggie to die, your decisiveness would’ve ingratiated you to the members. Shown your leadership abilities.”

  “Mortician’s the club enforcer. Christopher gave each of us a folder with our targets. Digger and Sharper were assigned to Mort. I’ve been taking care of the fuckheads I’m supposed to.”

  “Yeah, but Digger is the one everyone wants, so you should’ve gone after him and I never would’ve gotten shot.”

  “This is going to be a long pregnancy, huh, gorgeous?”

  That’s why you shoulda kept your fucking cock locked the fuck up and out of her fucking pussy.

  Kendall on her antidepressants was tolerable in Christopher’s eyes. She was still a conniving cunt, but he fucking ignored her and she ignored him. Off those motherfuckers and she went back to being a mean fucking bitch.

  “That’s what you have to think about. I was shot and I could’ve lost another baby. She’s just spoiled.”

  “Kendall, gorgeous—”

  “I don’t mean that as a slur against Meggie.”

  The fuck you don’t.

  “I know, sweetheart.”

  What-fucking-ever.

  “I only had a few hours to enjoy the knowledge of your new pregnancy before we were hit. But I’ve been thinking about us going away for a few weeks. Let your body adjust to the pregnancy without the stress of club life.”

  “Where?” she asked with suspicion, just as Ava Maria started playing.

  “Wherever you want to go.”

  How the fuck could that motherfucker bring a vacation up, when he knew Christopher intended to resign?

  “There’s no way we’re leaving now when you have a chance to become president. Absolutely not.”

  His self-serving bitch knew what needed to happen.

  “I don’t want to risk you, Rory, and the new baby. We’ve taken all sorts of measures to protect all of you, but Sharper still found a way inside.”

  “Yes, because Outlaw’s an arrogant asshole.”

  “We’re looking in the wrong places,” Johnnie explained with annoyance. “On the outside, instead of within. That doesn’t make Christopher arrogant, Kendall.”

  “Are you suggesting there’s an enemy on the inside?”

  “Doesn’t it seem so?”

  “I guess, although Outlaw has all but shut the club down, so unless Meggie is betraying the club, who could it be?”

  “Megan?” Johnnie asked in shock. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Apparently, Kendall was still a death-wishy bitch.

  “Always ready to defend her.”

  “I’m not fucking defending her. I’m telling you the idea that she’d betray the club is fucking stupid. She’s never been a threat to any of us.”

  “I used her as an example,” she said briskly.

  “Poor fucking choice.”

  Only La Boheme filled the silence that followed Johnnie’s words.

  “I’m glad you saw her today. I know how worried you’ve been about her.”

  This time, expectation filled the silence.

  “My main concern has been you, gorgeous,” Johnnie said slowly. “And thinking about who has the balls to betray us.”

  Christopher narrowed his eyes, finished with eavesdropping on Johnnie and his bitch. Johnnie had the fucking right way of thinking. Some motherfucker had to have betrayed them to fucking Sharper. Why the fuck else would he be so fucking willing to reappear after so many fucking months on the run? Riley had just fucking pinpointed a location for those motherfuckers.

  The run they’d intended to fuck Sharper and Osti up would’ve taken place next week. But the script had been fucking flipped and Sharper had hit first.

  That meant one fucking thing. Some-fucking-body on the inside had ratted them the fuck out.

  Christopher trusted the brothers closest to him. The other women on the inside who were in their inner circle and had the run of the place because of it were Roxy, Bunny, and Dinah…

  Fuck. Him.

  Immediately, he scratched Roxy off the list. The woman was too straight-forward to pull such bullshit. Besides, she wouldn’t do anything to get her daughter killed.

  He was on the fence about Bunny. Maybe, Trader had been the fucking traitor and Christopher had popped him just as he was putting his plan into effect. Bunny was a loyal chick, so she’d stick by her old man’s side.

  And put Meggie and the kids in danger…? Maybe fucking not. She adored CJ.

  Dinah, on the other hand…

  Somehow, Dinah h
ad been left unscathed, after the clubhouse had been clearly searched. Yet, she’d survived. True, when Logan had put his boy in a trash can and left him to smother, she’d had the presence of mind to knock it over, but she hadn’t been half as fucked up in the head then as she was now.

  Besides, Dinah fucking hated Christopher and had never quite been a mother to Megan. She’d disregarded Big Joe and somehow been the catalyst for all types of bullshit, so he wouldn’t put betraying the club past that cunt. Craziness and all.

  After Dinah moved from Seattle to Hortensia, all types of odd shit started happening. Cee Cee showed up. Motherfucking Logan. K-P was killed after being seen with Dinah that morning. Charlemagne somehow got Bailey’s phone number. Yeah, maybe, fuckhead Digger had also given it to that cunt, but they’d all fucking disregard a psycho cunt like Dinah because she seemed fucking harmless.

  No, fuck this bullshit. It couldn’t be fucking Dinah. She didn’t have access to necessary information. She and Megan rarely spoke. But if not her, why had she been left unharmed? Where had she fucking been and why hadn’t Ghost run across her during his sweep of the club?

  When Christopher had first seen Dinah, he’d been too relieved to be suspicious. Hearing Johnnie voice what lurked in Christopher’s mind raised all types of fucking questions. And major fucking concerns if Dinah was the traitor. He couldn’t imagine the fucking pain Megan would go through. Dinah would have to be put to ground. That meant, either he’d have to kill her and not tell Megan the reason why. Or he’d have to kill her and offer a full fucking explanation to his girl.

  “Fuck!” he roared, thrusting his fingers through his hair.

  “Christopher?” Johnnie called, reminding him he was standing just outside Kendall’s room.

  Stalking in, he scowled at Kendall, who sat in her hospital bed, her hair pulled up in a ponytail. They exchanged mutual glowers. It didn’t even fucking matter that she’d kind of defended him by pointing out that Johnnie had backed Christopher into a corner.

  “Christopher,” Johnnie began, standing.

  “Save it,” he bit out. “I ain’t leavin’ the club ‘til this shit fixed, then I’m takin’ my girl and my kids and gettin’ the fuck. I ain’t riskin’ her no-fuckin-more.”

  Johnnie nodded. “Okay.”

  Another motherfucker who looked like he didn’t believe Christopher’s words. Oh, fucking well.

  “Good riddance,” Kendall said with a smirk. “Club needs new leadership anyway. I have ideas that I intend to implement as first lady. It’s past due for renovations and we need more types of music. Opera would be a good choice.”

  “Kendall, gorgeous, no fucking way am I hurting my ears with opera.”

  “Maybe, we can have a cultural night.”

  “Listen up, Kendall.” Christopher couldn’t stand the thought of how Johnnie would let her fuck up the club. “My fuckin’ ass ain’t gone yet, so keep your fucked up ideas the fuck to yourself.” He gazed at Johnnie. “Get your bitch in line. Brothers and their bitches gonna fuck her up if she try that bullshit on them.”

  “No, they won’t. I have a lot of friends. Besides, all Johnnie has to do is demand they give me my way like you demand the same for Meggie.”

  “Pity that fuckin’ bullet ain’t fucked up your brain. Might’ve given you some fuckin’ sense.” Dismissing her gasp and Johnnie’s narrowing eyes, Christopher said, “Megan awake. Well, she sleepin’ like a motherfucker now cuz of the drugs they gave her. I need to talk to you before I head to the club and check shit out, Johnnie.”

  “Outlaw?” Slipper called.

  Turning, Christopher saw the brother standing just behind him. As usual, Slipper’s grayish-blonde, greasy hair hung limply around his shoulders. Next to Slipper an older motherfucker lagged in the shadows.

  Christopher thrust his chin toward the runt of a man. “Who the fuck he is? I told you not a motherfucker come up here—”

  “We frisked him. He say he got news about your boy.”

  Days fucking behind in searching for his son, Slipper’s words shut Christopher the fuck up. By now, the trail was one, cold motherfucker. He needed the fucking help. “Fuckin’ talk, old man.”

  Slipper shoved him forward.

  Fear crumpling his face, the motherfucker remained speechless, his throat working but no words coming out.

  “Talk,” Christopher repeated with even less patience. “I ain’t gonna fuck you up unless you gimme a fuckin’ reason.”

  “You’re scaring him, idiot,” Kendall called from behind him.

  “The quicker you fuckin’ talk, the quicker you fuckin’ leave.” And the quicker Christopher got the fuck away from Kendall.

  “Night before last,” he began slowly, gazing from Christopher to Johnnie, who now stood next to him. “I came upon a black man holding an unconscious girl in his arms. I didn’t notice the little fella until he started talking and I didn’t put it all together until I read the newspaper this morning about a Megan Caldwell. The boy spoke of a Meg Anne, who fell and ‘got’ red.”

  Fuck, Christopher’s heart skipped a beat at the old man’s explanation as it dawned on him that his boy had seen Megan get shot, and Christopher couldn’t imagine CJ’s fear. Christopher was a grown motherfucker and the image of that fucking bullet hitting Megan kept replaying in his fucking head.

  However, hearing those details left no doubt that the old motherfucker had run across Digger, Bunny, and CJ.

  “That’s my boy,” he said gruffly. He missed the way CJ mimicked every move Christopher made. Although Megan hated CJ’s cussing, it secretly pleased Christopher. His boy was already a formidable little motherfucker. “He call his ma, my wife, MegAnn.”

  The cussing annoyed Megan, but hearing CJ address her by her name aggravated the fuck out of Christopher. He saw that as disrespect while it melted Megan’s heart.

  She was so fucking soft with their boy. She could get as upset as she wanted to with him, he didn’t stay in line for long. CJ knew better to pull that bullshit with Christopher. But it didn’t matter. CJ could always rely on his ma to coddle and comfort him. Boys needed a mother’s love, too. While Christopher would discipline him and keep him in line, Megan could spoil him.

  “He hurt?” he asked quietly. He missed CJ. Rule was barely walking. Besides, he whined for Rebel whenever Christopher tried to take him along. “Was he bleedin’?”

  Uneasily, the old man glanced at them again. “Are you Outlaw?”

  “Do it fuckin’ matter who the fuck my fuckin’ ass be? I already fuckin’ told you, the boy my kid.”

  “Does he call you ‘Law?” the old motherfucker persisted.

  Christopher nodded, CJ’s absence suddenly hitting him hard. Even if he’d been in no shape to look after him these past few days, he would’ve been safe with Ophelia. “Yep, sure the fuck do,” he responded after clearing his throat.

  “He had a bowel movement in my backseat and—”

  “A bowel movement?” Christopher echoed with a frown. “You mean a fuckin’ shit?”

  “Yes. I still haven’t gotten the stain up.”

  He’d take care of that for him. “What happened? What road you saw them fuckin’ at?”

  “Near the private access road that led to that deserted farmhouse.”

  They had gone to Logan’s house, so he supposed Cash was right, and Digger started the fire. That motherfucking house should’ve burned down years ago. Digger had done Christopher a fucking favor.

  “I fuckin’ know exactly where the fuck that’s at. I’m gonna take care of that fuckin’ stain my boy did. The girl with them was o-fuckin-kay, huh? Just fuckin’ tell me what the fuck I owe you and—”

  “I came upon them on the main road that led to that house,” the man interrupted. “But the black man asked to be taken to a tattoo shop, even though it looked like the girl needed medical attention.” He leaned closer. “I found some blood stains in my car where she’d been laying. I’d intended to alert the police until I read the story to
day.”

  The badges would’ve give him a ‘thank you’ and a ‘we’ll check into your story and be in touch.’ Some shit like that. This old motherfucker must know some fuckhead fucking familiar with the club and had found the fucking reward much greater if he came directly to Christopher.

  With all the Harleys in the hospital parking lot and the shootings in the news, Christopher had been relatively easy to find.

  “The place I dropped them at is called Gabe’s Tattoo Parlor,” the old motherfucker continued.

  “I’ll fuckin’ look into it,” Christopher promised, pulling out his cellphone. “If your fuckin’ story check the fuck out, I’ll fuckin’ call you.”

  “Name’s Nathan,” he said, holding out his hand.

  Christopher eyed it and exchanged a glance with Johnnie.

  “Er, this is my number.” Nathan rattled off the digits.

  Christopher saved it in his contacts.

  “Follow that motherfucker, Slipper,” he ordered when Nathan left. “But watch your fuckin’ ass.”

  “Sure thing, Outlaw.”

  Once he was alone with Johnnie and Kendall again, he fired off a quick text to Riley, along with the old man’s phone number.

  Track this motherfucker. Get back to me as soon as fucking possible.

  “Get Ghost here, Johnnie,” he instructed. “Tell him to meet me in Megan room. I just got a fuckin’ plan to smoke out fuckin’ Sharper.”

  “In that case, I’ll go with you. I need to check on Roxy.”

  Not waiting for Johnnie to tell Kendall later, he headed to Bailey’s room, skidding to a halt when he saw Mort standing right outside her door, hunched over and leaning against it.

  Fearing the worst, he reached Mortician and put his hand on his shoulder. “Bailey—”

  “Her eyes open. I thought I lost Bailey, Prez. Fuck. Fucking karma for taking out Char.” He heaved in a breath. “No, that karma is Tyler being killed.”

  Saying fucking sorry didn’t fucking cut it, so he just shut the fuck up.

  “They don’t even know if the baby in Bailey still living.”

  Another innocent life taken away, a third helpless and unborn baby, if it died. Christopher never really thought of that type of shit before. What it meant when a girl lost a baby not even outside of her yet. If he went by Megan, women got attached to their kids the moment they discovered they were created.