Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  Val crept up behind the motherfucker and quickly snapped his neck, ending the conversation. As Val swayed, the other motherfucker sank to the ground.

  “The fuckin’ keys, Val,” Christopher prodded. More light would be good too, instead of only the glimmer from the hallway, but he’d work with what he had. “And hurry the fuck up.”

  Christopher wasn’t sure what fucking organization this was, but in the long minutes it took Val to find the right key, not one motherfucker came and checked on the dead assfuck.

  Free now, Christopher lumbered to his feet, his goddamn bones creaking as if a motherfucker was breaking them. He stretched. Time was fucking precious, so he went to the broke-necked fuckhead and felt in his pockets, finding a knife and a handgun.

  Val still didn’t look in much shape to walk or run, but Christopher couldn’t leave him behind. “We gonna get the fuck outta here.” He stuffed the knife in his pocket but kept the gun in his hand. “Stay on your feet as long as possible.” In case he had to shoot. “When you can’t run no more, let me know.”

  “Just go, Outlaw. Don’t let me hold you up.”

  Punching Val wouldn’t do him much good, so Christopher said, “Yo, assfuck, we in this shit together. We live or we die, but I ain’t leavin’ you behind, so do what the fuck I fuckin’ tell you.”

  Christopher headed to the hallway where he stopped at the door. As Val came into the light, he saw how painful it was for Val to walk with his broken leg. The most he could do was drag it.

  “Fuck.”

  Sweat beaded Val’s brow and dried blood covered his face. Rushing back to Val, Christopher placed an arm around his shoulder and urged him forward.

  “Think of Bitsy and your fuckin’ boys,” he said, needing to keep Val on his feet.

  Megan and his children kept Christopher going, so it seemed logical that Val’s family would be the same incentive.

  “This a short ass hallway, Val. ‘Bout five fuckin’ feet. Don’t know what the fuck on the other side of that goddamn door. You ready to find the fuck out?”

  “Yeah, Outlaw.”

  Half dragging Val to that door seemed to take forever.

  “Val,” he whispered. “You gotta stay on your feet.” Cuz he had to let him go to raise his fucking weapon.

  “I know,” Val said after Christopher explained the situation.

  Silently counting to three, Christopher threw open the door, ready to blast any motherfucker waiting for him on the other side.

  Unfortunately, the motherfucker on the other side had a goddamn surprise.

  The motherfucker had Kendall.

  Kendall should’ve listened to Johnnie. Or Digger.

  She’d just been so angry after finding out Johnnie had taken it up on himself to stay at Meggie’s house with Rory. Kendall hadn’t wanted to listen to anything either he or Digger had to say. If she knew nothing else, she knew how those men stuck together. Another reason she hated Johnnie to be around them.

  So, after finding a note from Digger saying he’d gone to talk to someone who might know something about Outlaw’s and Val’s whereabouts, she’d called room service. Then, she’d called Charlotte, who was already furious with Outlaw for shooting Brooks.

  “You don’t have to listen to any of those horrible men, Kendall. Get out of that room and get fresh air.”

  Only five minutes into her walk, a car had swerved beside her and the next thing she knew she was being hustled in, with no one around to hear her screams.

  Now, as the door burst open, and one of the men who’d captured her, grabbed her and shoved a gun against her head, she saw Outlaw.

  Saw him quickly assess the situation.

  They were in a small, rundown warehouse. The broken glass and general dilapidation of the surroundings made Kendall realize the place was probably abandoned. If they shot her, her body wouldn’t be found for days.

  He stared at her with distaste, a muscle ticking in his jaw. She wouldn’t soon forget how willing he’d been to hand her over to these assholes.

  She glared at him, unmoved that he wore no shirt or shoes. To her, he looked like a true criminal with the dark beard that had begun to grow out. Not that she’d ever really noticed his muscles before, but she saw that he’d lost weight. His present condition made him the perfect candidate for the nauseating fawning Meggie did over him.

  “Put the gun down or she dies,” the man behind her ordered.

  Outlaw wanted her to die. Kendall saw it in his eyes, lit with so much contained violence she shivered and a pain went through the bottom of her belly.

  “I’m counting to three,” the man said. “One—”

  A gunshot rang out and blood and gore sprayed Kendall’s face. At first, she thought she’d been shot until she was suddenly released and the man dropped to the ground. Automatically, she turned and found a hole in the man’s forehead, his eyes wide open.

  “Oh my God!” she screamed, her stomach turning at the scent of blood. The pains she was starting to have were similar to contractions. She kept her mouth shut because her impending agony wouldn’t matter to these assholes.

  Outlaw ignored her near hysterics. “How many more?”

  “You shot him!”

  “How many—”

  The exit door opened before Outlaw repeated the question and the other man who’d taken her rushed in. Both him and Outlaw fired their weapons at the same time.

  She screamed again, covering her eyes, unable to endure the violence. A moment later, it went silent.

  “How many more? Where Digger?”

  Outlaw had won the very short battle, but he was treating her as if she was a stranger, not asking after her well-being. He was just cold and methodical.

  She was suddenly grabbed by her arms and turned. “How many fucking more, Kendall?”

  “Th-there were the only two,” she sobbed, the smell of him atrocious, the pains in her stomach increasing. “Digger left to do recon and—”

  “Fuck, and they found you in the fuckin’ room!” he finished. “That mean Digger probably got took too.”

  When he gentled his hold on her, she decided to keep quiet about exactly how she’d ended up being taken. While he wasn’t truly nice to her as he would be to Meggie, he didn’t seem like he wanted to kill her at the moment either.

  “They got a fuckin’ car?”

  She nodded and he released her, hurrying to Val and handing him a knife.

  “Lemme get Johnnie’s bitch in the car. Make it as far as you can while I do that. We need to get the fuck.”

  He was moving so quickly he didn’t give Kendall a chance to process what was happening. It was as if he had a handbook on escapes and getaways stored in his head, to be amended as needed for daily life. He wasn’t even thinking. He was just doing.

  Getting her to the car and ordering her to stay put. Hurrying back inside and returning with keys and Val a few minutes later. Glancing around and assessing his location.

  Outlaw jumped into the driver’s seat. Suddenly, another car swerved around the corner of the warehouse.

  “Fuck me. Hold the fuck on, you two.”

  Speeding away from the car, Outlaw barely paused as he cut onto the street. It was a rundown area, where weeds grew through cracked pavement, surrounded by deserted buildings, broken glass, and stinking litter.

  “Who the fuck these motherfuckers?” Val called above the squealing tires.

  Outlaw glanced over his shoulder. “Rocker on the motherfucker who had fuckin’ Kendall said American Scorpions.”

  “Wait, fuck, wasn’t that the name of Cee Cee’s club?”

  “Who’s that?” Kendall asked as Outlaw answered, “Yeah.”

  He slammed on breaks and reversed as the other car sped by.

  “Fuck, what the fuck they want?”

  “Don’t fuckin’ know, Val, but as soon as I get fuckin’ back to the club, I’m findin’ the fuck out.”

  He tore down an alley, knocking down a garbage can.

 
“Think McCallister was workin’ with them?”

  “Don’t know. I mean the motherfucker sent us a lotta fuckin’ bills, so—”

  “Would you drive?” Kendall screeched, thankful for the seatbelt. Otherwise, she would’ve been tossed in all directions and her stomach would hurt even worse. “Talk some other time.”

  “If I was your ass, Kendall, I’d shut the fuck up,” Outlaw growled. “I gotta gun and it got bullets. You got a brain that ain’t doin’ no fuckin’ good in your goddamn head. Figure where the fuck I’m goin’ with this scenario on your fuckin’ own.”

  “Fuck finally lost them,” Val breathed a few minutes later as Outlaw slowed the car.

  “I gotta call Megan and I ain’t too sure where my goddamn phone at. Let’s get the fuck back to the hotel and get the fuck outta town as soon as possible. I lost my goddamn phone.”

  “I lost mine, too,” Val said.

  “Me, too,” Kendall added, although neither of them paid any attention to her.

  The American Scorpions. Cee Cee’s outfit. The organization ran by his half-brothers that Christopher had pinned with the bombing of the Torpedoes clubhouse. His old man was fucking dead so it could’ve been retaliation for him, although Christopher doubted it since he’d also ordered hits on two of his half-brothers, both members of the Scorpions. Christopher didn’t know how many fucking offspring Cee Cee had spawned. There could’ve been twenty more of them motherfuckers.

  He’d figure the shit out when he got back to Washington. Right now, he headed to the hotel Kendall directed him to, madder than a motherfucker that they’d taken her and hoping like fuck Digger was still alive.

  If he was missing, Christopher would get Val to a hospital, put Kendall on a plane, and then go hunting for his sergeant-at-arms. If he couldn’t find him in two or three days, he’d have Mort switch places with him so he could get back to Megan.

  As they parked, the door to the room Kendall said Digger rented swung open and the man ran out.

  “Fuck, Prez! Val! Kendall gone—”

  He wouldn’t be so fucking lucky. “That bitch in the back seat…Wait, what the fuck you mean she gone? They fuckin’ took her from the room and...on second thought let’s get the fuck. They gonna be lookin’ for this fuckin’ ride. Get my bags and shit. We need to find a fuckin’ out the way place so I can see to Val.”

  Although they were pressed for time, Christopher couldn’t go another moment without showering. While he cleaned up, Digger went and purchased burgers and fries for him and Val, then, together Christopher and Digger loaded three duffel bags in the trunk. It seemed as if Digger had purchased a couple of outfits for Kendall since the bitch had stowed away and not brought clothes.

  They drove for an hour before Christopher noticed the gas getting low. Instead of filling up, he found the nearest motel and got two rooms, one exclusively for Johnnie’s bitch. They needed a base while Christopher got travel arrangements together.

  “I don’t want to be alone,” she cried. “You have to stay in the room with me, Outlaw.”

  “Bitch, not on your fuckin’ life,” he retorted, opening the door to the first room and needing to get rid of that fucking car. It could be equipped with a goddamn tracking device. Maybe, the motherfuckers had allowed him to get away as a false sense of security.

  “You have to stay with me after the way you put my life in danger. It’s your duty to protect me.”

  “Kendall, that shit don’t sound right,” Digger said with disapproval as he helped Val into the room. “Asking Prez to stay with you.”

  “Yeah,” Val puffed out, falling onto the bed. “Sound to me like you want dick from Outlaw.”

  Christopher glared at Val, ready to finish fucking him up for even speaking those words.

  “I do not!” she bit out, sidling a glance at Christopher.

  He wouldn’t entertain this fucking conversation.

  “There’s nothing lurid about my request,” she insisted.

  As if he gave a fuck. “I ain’t got time to deal with your fuckin’ ass, Kendall. You ain’t stayin’ in here with me and I ain’t stayin’ in your goddamn room.”

  “They’re grown men,” she argued. “They can protect themselves.”

  “One’s a fucked-up grown-ass man,” Christopher snapped. “I ain’t stayin’ in your room.”

  What the fuck was wrong with this bitch?

  “I need to call Megan.” Now that he had everything under control.

  Kendall doubled over and sank to the ground, her arms wrapped around her belly.

  “It hurts,” she whispered, crying out. “I think I’m in labor.”

  Fuck him, this shit couldn’t fucking be happening. This bitch wasn’t in fucking labor hundreds of miles from home.

  “Oh my God, the baby’s coming.”

  “No the fuck it ain’t!” Christopher snarled. “Stop it.”

  “I can’t! She’s coming!”

  “Fuck.” He backed toward the door and looked at Digger, who stood frozen as he stared at Kendall. “Call me when it’s fucking over.”

  “Don’t leave me.” She drew in a sob, then groaned again. “Please, help me.”

  “While I see to Val, Digger can fuckin’ help you. I fuckin’ ain’t.” Helping her meant all types of things Christopher didn’t want to imagine, let alone fucking witness.

  Mainly, looking up Kendall’s pussy.

  “Call a ambulance, Digger.” He turned toward the door. “Val, lemme get you to the other room. After I ditch the car, I’ll take care of you.” He’d get him put back together as best as possible, then see how soon the pilot could arrive. Back in Washington, Val could be properly seen to.

  “No, wait. I think I’m crowning. You have to look.”

  “The fuck I do. You can fuckin’ feel if a lil’ motherfucker ‘bout to fall outta your pussy.”

  As Kendall screamed in agony, Christopher glared between Digger and Val, disgusted when Digger didn’t move to help Johnnie’s bitch. The motherfucker decided to abandon his psycho bitch duties now?

  She made no attempt to move toward the bed. Christopher should let her sink to the fucking ground. Instead, he guided Kendall to the bed closest to them and pushed her down.

  “Call a ambulance,” he ordered again. “I ain’t got my cell phone.”

  “We don’t have time for an ambulance. Please!”

  Fuck, why was he always put in some fucked up position with Kendall? Fate just force-fed her motherfucking ass to Christopher. That thought upper-fucking-most in his head, he stomped toward the bathroom to search for towels and a couple of other wish-list items like a fucking hand mirror.

  By the time he got back into the room, her bottom half was bared and Val and Digger had left, probably for the other room. Scowling, he turned his back. “Cover the fuck up.”

  “I can’t. I’m having a baby.”

  “Yeah, well, you havin’ the motherfucker. I ain’t interested in bringin’ it into the world if I gotta look at your pussy. I was lookin’ for a fuckin’ mirror so you could hold in front your cunt and deliver your kid yourself. I mean look the fuck at it this way. It’s so fuckin’ big you can’t feel a fuckin’ kid droppin’ the fuck out.”

  “I hate you.”

  “And I can’t stand your motherfuckin’ ass.” Even, now, when she was in labor and suffering, he couldn’t give two fucks.

  “There’s a very thin line between love and hate, Christopher,” Kendall called.

  Christopher scowled. “First the fuck off I told your ass I ain’t Christopher to you. Now or fuckin’ ever.”

  She drew in a sob. “Why? The other girls call you by your name.”

  “Where the fuck you been, Kendall? Only Bitsy, Ophelia, and Megan call me by my goddamn name. Bailey and Bunny call me Outlaw. Even Roxy do.”

  “But they have permission to call you Christopher if they choose to. Don’t they?”

  “Yeah. They smart e-fuckin-nuff to know outside my sisters, only my girl should call me by
my name.”

  She sniffled. Fuck, but for the past weeks all this bitch did was cry. She couldn’t end one fucking conversation without fucking bursting into motherfucking boo-hooey tears. Fuck, but no wonder John Boy had gone the fuck off his rocker and tried to get Christopher to fuck him up. Christopher would’ve wanted an easy way the fuck out, too.

  “It isn’t only me then? I can’t call you Outlaw because you don’t want any of the women to call you by your name if they aren’t Meggie or aren’t related to you?”

  “It sure the fuck is only your ass,” he stormed, sick to death of this fucking conversation. “What the fuck can’t you get through your goddamn head about how fuckin’ much I fuckin’ hate you? You fuckin’ alive cuz of your kids. Rory and the baby tryna get the fuck out. You fuckin’ alive cuz of Johnnie. I’d just as soon fuckin’ kill you, Kendall. I despise the fuckin’ ground you walk on.”

  “No, you don’t!” she shouted on a moan. “You never answered me when I said there’s a thin line between love and hate. You know it’s true.”

  “I heard that bullshit. It just don’t fuckin’ apply in this fuckin’ case. The hate I fuckin’ feel with you is thick and air-fuckin-tight. Nothin’ fuckin’ thin ‘bout it. I hate you yesterday, today, tomorrow, and for-fuckin-ever. Case fuckin’ closed, Kendall.”

  “You asshole, you can’t call me Kendall if I can’t call you Christopher.”

  “No skin off my fuckin’ teeth, cunt. That fuckin’ better?” He folded his arms, needing a drink to help his fucking headache. “Make sure you fuckin’ get on the same page with Johnnie, hear me? He been after my fuckin’ ass to call you fuckin’ Kendall. I been doin’ that and your fuckin’ ass still not fuckin’ happy. Can’t win with you two motherfuckers.”

  “Because you don’t try!” she yelled. “All you have to do is admit to me how much you care about me.”

  “Ain’t admittin’ shit that ain’t true. I don’t give a motherfuck ‘bout you. Obviously you ain’t givin’ too much of a fuck ‘bout you either. Other-fuckin-wise you wouldn’t look for fuckin’ ways for me to continue to fuckin’ insult you.”