Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

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Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 308

by Kathryn C. Kelly


  Grasping at fucking straws, he found any reason she might be so angry with him, except the obvious one, knowing CJ’s presentation hadn’t fucking helped matters.

  Megan held his gaze and her chin wobbled. “She’s pretty and popular. All the men just adore her accommodating attitude.”

  “I fuckin’ love you. I know you hate them club bitches around me. They just near me when I can’t fuckin’ help it.”

  She lowered her lashes and he hugged her tight to him. At first, she stood stiffly, then she relented and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  He kissed the top of her head. “She real pretty, Megan,” he whispered, always honest with her. “But no girl ever touch how fuckin’ perfect and beautiful you be. In my eyes, you the most gorgeous little bitch in the fuckin’ world.”

  “Why did CJ say you had the pretty girl?”

  “This gonna sound fucked up, baby,” he admitted on a sigh. “But she was fuckin’ closest to my ass. Cash brought her there for me.”

  She pulled away, confusion denting all her other emotions. “Why would he do that?”

  “It got something to do with Fee.” At her narrowing look, he explained his theory. “That shit he did was just to throw me the fuck off.”

  Instead of answering, she went to the center island and sat. Until Christopher noticed CJ watching her, he’d forgotten his boy remained. He wanted to send him away, but, fuck, he had to make sure Megan understood the situation. If he took his attention away from her to address CJ, she might escape before they cleared the air.

  “Say something, baby.” He sounded like a pathetic assfuck, even in his own head. Right now, he didn’t fucking care. He’d get down on his motherfucking knees if he had to. “Megan, you my fuckin’ everything. I ain’t doin’ shit to fuck us up. I know you know that cuz, otherwise, you woulda brought what the fuck that bitch said, to my attention a long time ago. You walk out, you might as well fuckin’ take a knife and carve my fuckin’ heart out. You my soul. My heart. My life.”

  “I know,” she said around sniffles, blinking away her tears. “But you had to teach me everything about sex. I didn’t bring any experience to our bed, like Daphne. Or…or Kendall did with Johnnie.”

  “If you tryna get even with me by mentionin’ John Boy…” He snapped his mouth shut and growled again. Kendall. Getting the fuck in Megan’s head again. They’d had their brunch thing. Last week, Megan came home angry. This week, she was upset. Fuck, whatever the fuck she said to Megan had also made this situation worse.

  Just what the fuck he deserved. He’d been the stupid motherfucker who let Kendall live when he’d had the chance to fuck her up.

  Cautiously, he approached Megan.

  “I taught you how to fuck, baby,” he whispered to her. “And you know just what the fuck to do to please me.”

  She nodded, accepting his words. Believing in him. “I love you so much, Christopher,” she said, starting to cry. “You’d just break me if you ever went with another woman.”

  He tipped her chin up. “I know, baby. I ain’t ever hurtin’ you like that. This just the fuckin’ reason I don’t want Cash with Fee. The motherfucker all about fun and games. With us, he a solid motherfucker. In relationships, he not good. He don’t respect his or nobody else’s.”

  She got to her feet and stared at the stove, as if she’d forgotten what the fuck she’d been doing. She looked at him. “Daphne left with Cash?”

  Before he could answer, CJ piped in, “Deel, too. Uncle Cash say him gonna have fun.”

  “What?”

  Christopher scrubbed a hand over his face at Megan’s outrage. There was no fucking explaining his way out of this situation.

  He expected her to scream, holler, and throw shit at him. Instead, she did something even worse—looked at him with so much disappointment, it felt like a physical blow to Christopher.

  “The minute he gets in…Never mind, tell him I’m driving him to school myself tomorrow.” With one last glare, she ran out of the kitchen.

  CJ looked up at him. “Mommie mad?”

  “Yeah, boy,” Christopher said quietly. “She fuckin’ pissed.”

  For the rest of the evening, Megan avoided him. She avoided their kids’ rooms when Christopher went to say goodnight, by doing it earlier than usual, her movements captured on the CCTV Stretch had connected to Christopher’s phone. She’d already changed for bed, wearing a short robe that revealed her legs but hid what she wore underneath. Her pussy could be out; she might be in one of his shirts; or she could be in her own clothes.

  If wondering what she wore and missing her being at his side as he visited their kids, wasn’t torture enough, she skipped out on joining him for their alone time, where they discussed the day’s events. Laughed over stupid shit. Sometimes, even listened to music. Then, while he locked up, she went to their room to prepare for bed.

  Tonight, he sat by himself in the den. When Diesel texted to say he was on his way home, Megan didn’t respond, though these types of texts from Diesel went to both his and Megan’s phones.

  Christopher waited until Diesel came in before he stood, ignoring the chill in the air. “Megan takin’ you to school tomorrow.”

  He needed to talk to the boy, but not tonight.

  Diesel’s eyes widened, understanding what the announcement meant. “You told her?”

  “Fuck no. CJ told her.”

  “Awww, man, Uncle Chris, why? Can’t you tell him to stop telling her everything?”

  “He just lookin’ out for her. None of this bullshit shoulda happened, Diesel.”

  Uneasiness sliding across his face, he considered Christopher’s statement. “Will you kick me out?”

  “What? Fuck no! This shit ain’t nothin’ that serious.”

  “Does Aunt Meggie feel that way, too?”

  Christopher hated the boy’s lack of security, and rushed to reassure him. “Listen up, boy. Ain’t nothin’ ever makin’ us turn you out. Only thing that would make me do that is if you fuck with my wife or my kids. Then, you ain’t gotta sweat cuz I’d shoot the fuck outta you, and call it a day. Okay? So stop fuckin’ worryin’.”

  Exhaling in relief, Diesel grinned. “At least life isn’t boring, huh?”

  Christopher shrugged, and started toward the staircase, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

  “Good night, Uncle Chris,” Diesel called, as he headed to his bedroom on the second floor.

  “Yeah, boy. Good night.”

  He went to Rebel and Rule’s room. Megan had decorated it real nice, in an aqua, yellow, and brown scheme. The lamp light she kept on hinted at what she’d done. But she’d spent hours finding just the right stuff to turn the twins’ room into their own little sanctuary. She’d done that in the entire fucking house. Little fucking things, the extra fucking care, that he’d never fucking risk.

  Bending over, he kissed both of their cheeks, smiling at how peaceful they slept. Leaving their room, he went to the room CJ shared with Ryder.

  Ryder slept in his baby bed, covers kicked off. The rails stopped Christopher from kissing his son’s cheek, so he pulled his blankets up, knowing he’d kick them off again before Christopher reached his bedroom.

  Ryder kicked the blankets away before Christopher had even turned, and he chuckled at his youngest kid. He wondered if Cash knew how special it was to look at a little human and know he gazed at the best of himself.

  The word family to Cash seemed as bad as a curse. Although he was so fucking angry with the motherfucker, Christopher also felt a little sorry for him.

  When he bashed in his brains tomorrow, he’d never know what the fuck he’d missed out on.

  Turning to CJ, Christopher stared at his oldest son. After Ryder’s birth, Megan changed the décor, gave it more of a big kid look. He figured it was more to appease CJ, for having to share his room. The other option had been to put Ryder’s nursery on the second floor, and Megan refused to do that.

  CJ turned, and Christopher shook his head, unab
le to stop his laughter at the havoc he’d caused. Megan was his mommie, so he did what he needed to do on her behalf.

  “Night, boy,” he said gruffly.

  A light sleeper, like Megan, CJ opened his eyes. “Night, ‘Law.”

  “Close your eyes. Go back to sleep.”

  “’Kay.”

  Christopher watched him a little while longer, until he made sure CJ was once again sleeping, then he went to his own bedroom.

  Megan lay in the bed, all curled up beneath the covers. Her fingers clenching the comforter gave away the fact that she was awake. Fuck! She was that fucking pissed, that she’d prefer to pretend to sleep than talk to him.

  “Megan?” he called, testing the waters.

  A heartbeat and then, “What do you want?”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “He’s sixteen, Christopher. Sixteen,” she sniffled.

  “He fuck Mindy, baby.”

  She sucked in a breath, then fell silent, tension thick e-fucking-nuff to stop a bullet, rising between them.

  “He was fuckin’ by the time I got him here. Whatcha want me to do, Megan? Tell him to keep his cock in his pants? He’d just go behind my fuckin’ back. At least, this fuckin’ way, I can tell him to use a cock cover. You bein’ unreasonable.”

  “She’s a grown woman! She offered to suck you off, then when you turned her down, she went to Diesel? That’s the definition of a whore.”

  He frowned at the small lump her body made in the bed. “All them bitches whores. What the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout.”

  “No, a lot of those girls just enjoy sex and are comfortable with their own bodies. If they didn’t, men couldn’t sleep with everything they come across, so shut up.”

  “Megan, you confusin’ the fuck outta me. I ain’t too fuckin’ sure what the fuck you pissed at.”

  Gritting his teeth when she didn’t answer, he threw off his clothes and hurled them to the floor, aggravated to fuck.

  “If you definin’ a slut by her choosin’ the next man to fuck when one turn her down, then what the fuck the bitches who fuck one man, maybe wipe off her pussy, then fuck another man and another man after that? To me, they fuckin’ whores cuz that’s what the fuck they call themselves. You ain’t fuckin’ pissed about that either. You or me ain’t givin’ a good fuck if they fuck King fuckin’ Kong, Willy the Whale, and Godzilla, one after the fuckin’ other. Their fuckin’ pussy. Their fuckin’ business. You still fuckin’ pissed over Daphne.”

  “Diesel and Mindy sleeping together is bad enough. At least they’re the same age. Daphne’s what? Fourteen years older than Diesel?”

  He’d meant she was still pissed about Daphne being around him. How-fucking-ever…“I’m almost fifteen years older than you, so what the fuck your point? Who got the fuckin’ double standard now?”

  “I was already eighteen when we met and Diesel’s a child.”

  “No, baby. His age say he a child, but he grew the fuck up when he was livin’ on the fuckin’ streets. I was fuckin’ bitches twenty goddamn years older than me when I was fuckin’ fifteen. How the fuck I’m gonna be that fuckin’ hypocritical and tell him he can’t do the same fuckin’ thing?”

  “So when CJ, Rule, Rebel, and Ryder are sixteen and they want to sleep with someone twenty years older, that’ll be fine with you?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You out your goddamn mind? If a old motherfucker touch Rebel that’s the last fuckin’ thing he ever doin’.”

  “Omigod, jerk!” She sat up in bed and tossed her pillow at his head. The fluffy motherfucker bounced off his face, landing on the floor as her blonde hair swirled around her and covered her tits. Glimpsing the bare skin of her neck and shoulders, he suspected she had no clothes on. “What about our sons?”

  Snarling, Christopher kicked the fallen pillow as she snatched his from his side and plopped down.

  “You want me to get rid of Daphne?” he asked, deciding not to answer her question about their sons.

  “I want you to get rid of all of them,” she mumbled, but then in a louder voice, “Do whatever you want. Whatever you feel is necessary.”

  “I’m fuckin’ askin’ you,” he snapped. “What the fuck necessary to keep my brothers happy sure the fuck unnecessary to your happiness.”

  She started to cry again.

  “Megan, baby, please, you fuckin’ killin’ me. Stop cryin’.” He sat on the edge of the bed and hung his head in his hands. “I’ll do any-fuckin-thing you ask me to do.”

  He waited her out, thinking of the Bobs he’d surrounded himself with to shut Megan out so many months ago. The fact that she knew every fucking one of the original Bobs had sucked his cock. Fuck, just the reason for their fucking name.

  “Keep her. For your brothers.”

  Her hoarse voice reached his ears and he lifted his head.

  “But I’m going to tell her to stay away from my son. If she’s there and CJ is there, and I’m not, she leaves, Christopher.”

  “CJ our son, baby.” She’d never referred to him otherwise, until then, and it made him flinch. She’d always been so proud that she had his babies, and it seemed to make her love him more.

  Instead of correcting herself, she snatched the covers to her chin. “I’m going to sleep.”

  “Megan, I’ma get rid of her ass. My brothers not more important than you.”

  To make amends for taking her away from the brothers, Christopher would schedule a run to a rally, something that had nothing to do with work.

  Last year, he’d faced the disintegration of his club because of life and death matters. This year, it was because their known enemies were gone; their support clubs did the drug distribution; and the majority of the parties included wives and kids.

  That’s why he’d wanted to keep Daphne. That’s why he brought her around even when there weren’t special events. Once again, his two lives were colliding, forcing him to choose one over the other.

  “I’m beatin’ Cash to death tomorrow,” he announced.

  She stilled, before muttering, “I don’t care.”

  Fuck, but she was so fucking pissed. She always tried to talk him out of fucking up motherfuckers.

  She reached out and turned off the lamp on her side of the bed, leaving him in the dark. Laying down reminded him that he didn’t have a pillow, and he sighed.

  Megan shifted, turning on her back, before facing away from him again. “Want to share my pillow?” she asked a few minutes later.

  The tension inside of him evaporated at her question. She wasn’t so angry with him that she’d want him uncomfortable. He scooted closer and laid on the pillow, settling his hand on her hip.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  Fuck. “Pussy lockout, huh, baby?”

  “Yep.”

  “You hate me?”

  “No. I love you very much.”

  “Disappointed in my ass?”

  “Very. It doesn’t change how I feel about you. You’re not perfect. You’ll disappoint me at times, and I’ll disappoint you.”

  “I wanna fuck you. Just to make sure you ain’t hatin’ on me.”

  “Nice try, but no.”

  “How long?”

  “I’ll tell you after I talk to Diesel tomorrow morning.”

  “Megan, don’t say nothin’ to make him clam the fuck up. He need us, baby.”

  “I’m going to tell him he needs to know sex isn’t the most important thing in the world. I’m also going to tell him to take a cue from you. Your actions, not your words. You don’t cheat on me, yet you encouraged him to cheat on his girlfriend.”

  “I ain’t encourage fuck all. Ask him what the fuck I told him.”

  “You allowed him to go with Cash and Daphne and he’s supposed to be in a relationship with Mindy. If that’s not encouraging him to cheat, what is?”

  The more she spoke, the more rigid her muscles got. If she kept talking, she’d work herself up so much she’d lock him out her pussy for a fucking month.
<
br />   “I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “You goin’ to sleep now?” He fucking prayed she would. It would shut her thoughts fucking down.

  She huffed out a breath. “Don’t let Daphne go, Christopher. Women are always going to want you. You’re the president. You’re beautiful. You’re sexy. You’re everything,” she whispered. “My everything.”

  He smirked at the back of her head, not feeling quite so low at hearing how she saw him. Closing the distance between them, he nuzzled her neck.

  She elbowed his chest. “I said don’t touch me.”

  Blowing out a breath, he slid back, his smirk turning to a glare. His hard cock taunted him. “So every time that bitch near me, we goin’ through this?”

  “No.”

  “Would you fuckin’ answer me with more than one or two fuckin’ words like you was before?”

  “Nope.”

  “Jesus, Mary, and all that’s fuckin’ holy.”

  “Christopher?” she said a moment later.

  “What?” he snarled, angry with her spoiled behavior.

  “Don’t beat up Cash. He didn’t make you get an erection over what Daphne said. And he didn’t force you to let Diesel go with her. And he didn’t stay at the park with our sons, instead of leaving with them when she arrived. So, unless, you want to punch your own face in, leave him alone.”

  At the present rate, beating the fuck out of himself seemed like the perfect solution. Maybe, he’d knock himself the fuck out and escape her wrath.

  One thing he was certain of: Cash didn’t make him do fuck all, but he’d been the one playing goddamn games.

  Well, checkmate, fuckhead.

  “When Outlaw kills you, don’t say I didn’t warn you, Cash,” Stretch hissed later that night, once Daphne had been dropped off at her house, Diesel returned to Outlaw and Stretch got his motorcycle back to have his own transportation. He’d followed Cash back to Portland, although he wasn’t sure why. The day had exhausted him and his entire body ached.

  Now, they faced off in the privacy of Cash’s home.

  Cash sat on the sofa in his living room, his unconcerned expression both alarming and infuriating, working his way through the six pack on the coffee table. “Outlaw isn’t going to kill me.” He drank his beer. “You take shit too seriously.”

 

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