“You don’t take shit seriously enough. How could you do what you did?”
If Stretch had known the extremity of Cash’s plan, he would’ve stayed at the club.
More beer. “Lighten up. It ended well enough.”
Stretch was at his wit’s end with Cash’s attitude. He didn’t seem concerned with repercussions. He sat with his gorgeous, massive chest out, in only a pair of boxer briefs, his cock nestled between his powerful thighs. “Your dick won’t last forever. When it gives out, you’ll be all alone. What then?”
A quick flash of misery flashed in Cash’s blue eyes. “I’m doing what I was taught to do with those girls. Review them. I wanted Outlaw to give the final exam.”
“Any excuse is better than none.”
Cash finished one beer, and lined the bottle up at the edge. He opened another, and drank deeply. “What the fuck’s your excuse for how you live? What you’re willing to let me do to you?”
Stretch drew in a sharp breath.
“Is it love? You love me more than you love yourself?” Cash laughed without humor. “Just like dicks don’t last, love rarely does.”
It had been a long time since Stretch had loved himself. Once, he’d pretended to be straight, when he’d first joined the Death Dwellers. He’d still been miserable, afraid Outlaw would find out and kill him or cast him out as his father had. He also hadn’t been fulfilled by sleeping with only women. It all combined to make him hate himself and the shame he felt. The shame he’d brought to his father. But Stretch could do nothing right. After patching in, he’d called his dad and explained his new lifestyle. It hadn’t helped. His father had still been upset.
“Get over it, Stretch. As a matter of fact, get over everything. You’re living in the goddamn past while life’s passing you by. You’re scarred? So what. You’re alive. Get fucking surgery. You’re in pain? Take Oxy. Wear your goddamn brace.”
“Surgery requires money,” he said tightly.
He’d had emergency surgery, followed by weeks of recovery and months of physical therapy, paid for by Outlaw. He’d offered to pay all of Stretch’s medical expenses, but Outlaw shouldn’t bear the responsibility of Stretch’s stupidity.
Besides, he deserved the pain for surviving.
Additional surgery, testing, and physical therapy cost thousands. Saving that type of money would take four or five years.
“I wear the brace sometimes,” he said, deciding not to get into particulars. He never did. “You know that—”
“Do I? All I know is you’re chasing a fucking ghost. Hanson’s dead, Stretch, and he isn’t coming back. He had fucking free will to tell you to go and fuck yourself, instead of accepting the invitation to fuck at the club. It isn’t your fault.”
“You choose to believe that. I disagree.”
“It’s easier, right? To feel fucking sorry for yourself? That way, you don’t have to face life anymore. Live behind fear and pain.”
He couldn’t deny that accusation, however, Cash couldn’t talk. “Then we’re even. You hide behind fucking, drinking, and riding.”
A dark scowl clouded Cash’s face, indicating the nerve Stretch touched. “I enjoy riding. Same with fucking and drinking.”
“This argument is getting us nowhere. I wanted to talk to you about meeting with Outlaw tomorrow. He’s angry, Cash.”
“If he is, he’ll get over it. It was all harmless fun. Fuck, he looked at her tits. I refuse to believe he didn’t consider fucking her.”
“He’s a fucking man and she’s a pretty woman.” But she couldn’t touch Fee. Daphne was sex personified. Fee was nothing but sweetness. Daphne scared Stretch, living on the edge. Fee fascinated him, having just enough sass to keep him on his toes. “That doesn’t mean Outlaw would fuck Daphne. Nor does it mean he wants her around. If it gets back to Meggie—”
Cash waved away Stretch’s concern. “She’ll get over it.”
“Call him tonight and apologize to him.”
“Fuck no.” He finished off the second beer and started a third. “I know him better than you, so stop worrying.”
Stretch searched for the right words to get through to Cash, but came up empty. “Your arrogance is going to get you fucking killed.”
“You love me because of my arrogance.”
“More like in spite of.”
Cash shrugged, forever conceited.
Hiding how much that turned him on, Stretch tried another argument. “Well, even if it doesn’t get back to Meggie, there’s always the matter of Fee.”
“He can’t beat my ass based on speculation. Daphne will swear I was in bed with her, only stopping to get to your room and lead Fee to her car. See? I’ve thought of everything. All my bases are covered.”
Fine. Stretch had nothing more to say. Cash knew it all and wouldn’t be swayed any other way. Stretch did worry about everything. In this instant, he thought he was justified.
Tomorrow, by this time, they’d know who’d been right.
The next morning, Cash drew in a deep breath as he raised his hand to knock on Outlaw’s office door, thinking of Stretch’s warning. He had nothing to worry about.
Cash would reason shit out with his president, receive a punch or two, and be on his way.
The door flew open, while Cash still held his hand up to knock. Now that Outlaw stood in front of him, he lowered his hand and grinned. “Couldn’t wait to see me?”
Outlaw’s fist connected to Cash’s chin and jaw, before he punched him in the gut. Doubling over, Cash staggered back.
“Get the fuck in here.”
Nausea rising in him, he crept forward, staying on his feet by sheer willpower. Outlaw had knocked away Cash’s smugness with the hard blows. He’d come in expecting the man to scream and holler first, believing he’d see his ass whipping coming. The fact that the fist could’ve been a bullet woke him up.
This time, he saw the hit coming. Even worse. He fucking flinched before impact. Whacked off his feet, he coughed and gasped, noticing Outlaw’s steel-toed boots, the ones he wore to beat the fuck out of people.
His head was quite close to that boot, so he quieted himself, fearing Outlaw would kick his brains out.
“What the fuck wrong with you, motherfucker?” He prowled around Cash, then kicked him in the thigh.
Shit.
“You know the first goddamn thing my kid told his ma?”
Fuck, he was fucking dead. Stretch had been right. If Meggie had gotten upset over Daphne’s presence, Outlaw would show no mercy.
Another kick made Cash grunt.
“Ask me what the fuck he told her?”
He didn’t know if he could, he was in so much pain, but then Outlaw reached his head again and stared down with a look of cold rage.
“Wh-what did CJ s-say?” he managed.
“My boy told Megan I had a pretty girl with me. Megan knew I ain’t brought no bitch nowhere. CJ told his ma she knew the bitch. The lady with the white hair that you don’t like. She couldn’t fuckin’ believe I had one of them Bob bitches around our boys at the fuckin’ park. You know how goddamn pissed she was? I told her you the motherfucker who brought the bitch. We fuckin’ talked, but havin’ that bitch near me upset her. That girl popular with the brothers, so I ain’t let that bitch go, but I’m fuckin’ sick of her bullshit with me. Then, just when Megan was forgivin’ my ass, you know what the fuck else CJ said?”
Cash couldn’t imagine, and didn’t want to. He’d have to pull the little kid aside and tell him about the bro code.
“He told his ma Diesel left with you, Stretch, and that girl. I had a fuckin’ choice to make. I could lie to my wife about why the four of you motherfuckers left. Save my ass from a pussy lockout. Or I could tell her the truth and have a pissed lil’ motherfucker on my hands.”
Fuck. Cash hoped he opted to lie.
“You know what the fuck it’s like sleepin’ next to her, but havin’ her look at me like she gonna fuck me up if I fuckin’ touch her? I ain’t fucke
d her last night or this mornin’. Know why, motherfucker? Cuz she disappointed that I let our kid go and fuck a grown motherfuckin’ woman who fuck everything she see.” He grabbed Cash’s collar and pulled him to his feet. “I spend my fuckin’ life tryin’ not to upset her and I e-fuckin-specially don’t want to see her look at me with fuckin’ disappointment. That about fuckin’ killed me.”
Another hit to his gut. This time Cash couldn’t hold in his moan as he hit the floor with a hard thump.
“I’m beatin’ the fuck outta you for my Megan. I ain’t fucked you up yet for Fee or the position you put me in with Diesel.”
He was going to get beaten to death.
“I told Megan hello, Cash. Fuckin’ hello. CJ first fuckin’ words to her was about that bitch. He didn’t even give me a fuckin’ chance to get a goddamn kiss from her. What the motherfuck was you thinkin’?”
He wasn’t thinking, even though Stretch had tried to warn him. But he always thought he knew best.
A knock on the door interrupted Outlaw mid-kick.
Cash rolled into a ball, thankful for the interruption that gave him a chance to prepare to die. He hadn’t spoken to his mother in weeks. Now, she’d get the call she’d so long dreaded.
Outlaw’s boots reappeared by Cash’s head.
“Megan just got back from bringin’ Diesel to school. She probably lectured the fuck outta him. That’s why she didn’t want his ass on the bus this mornin’. Girls fuckin’ born with that lecturin’ gene. She cookin’ for me, so I gotta cut your fuckin’ up short.” He walked away, with Cash’s head still intact. “Get him the fuck outta my office.”
Cash didn’t know who he spoke to, until he saw Stretch looming above him. He looked down at him with a furrowed brow and concern in his eyes.
“I should say I told you so, but I don’t have to say a fucking thing,” Stretch said on a sigh.
For the first time in a long time, Cash felt grateful for Stretch’s calm demeanor, so he said nothing and allowed the man to help him to the bar.
Fuck up Cash. Check.
Get Megan to forgive him. Un-fucking-known.
Tape his boy’s mouth shut. Never fucking happening.
Ask Digger why the fuck he thought domestic issues were easily solved. As soon as fucking possible.
Twenty minutes after Megan’s call, Christopher ran down his to-do list as he headed out of the club and into the early morning sunshine. One motherfucker after the other had stopped him. Fucking Daphne lurked around, waving and smiling at him, before the bitch took out her phone and lost interest in him. Lucky for her, cuz he almost lost his shit, which would’ve delayed him getting to Megan even more.
A few bikes were parked, but, for the most part, it was almost deserted. Usually, Megan came here with him to prepare breakfast for whoever might be around. This morning, pissed and wanting to take Diesel to school, that hadn’t happened. At least, she’d called him and invited him to eat with her. A good fucking sign. She’d calmed the fuck down and softened toward him.
“Outlaw!”
He gritted his teeth at the sound of a woman calling his name. Not just any bitch, either, but Daphne a-fucking-gain. She was the one who’d earned him a fucking pussy lockout.
No fucking way he’d stop and risk Megan bringing her little ass to the club, then finding him talking to Daphne. Wasn’t fucking happening. For the first time ever, his girl would throw his ass on the fucking sofa. Have the motherfucker moved to the fucking yard, to show the world he was in the fucking doghouse.
Nothing like another bitch to get your girl to show her inner bitch.
“Outlaw, wait! I need to talk to you.”
A white Navigator barreling through the private road forced him to stop and jump the fuck back so he wouldn’t be run the fuck over.
Daphne wrapped her arms around his waist and released a frightened cry. Christopher yanked her arms off and pushed her away.
“Sorry!” Kendall called out her window, pausing and throwing him a triumphant smirk.
“Fuckin’ cunt,” he mumbled, not loud enough to engage her.
“Can you forgive me, Outlaw?”
By the gleam in Kendall’s eyes, she wasn’t sorry.
“Oh, well, Meggie got your tongue?” She goaded the fuck out of him, unable to get it through her motherfucking head that he wanted fuck-all to do with her.
“I guess that’s apropos since you’re always using it on her.”
Instead of continuing with her bullshit, she gunned off as a hand touched his back. He jumped nearly three fucking feet up in the air. Not from surprise, but because he knew who the fuck touched him and he was so fucking close to home. He whirled to face Daphne. “Don’t ever fuckin’ touch me a-fuckin-gain.”
Kendall honking her horn prevented Daphne’s response. Johnnie’s bitch was at the gate. The unmanned fucking gate. Fucking Stretch was inside helping out fuckhead. Spiraling the fuck down, Stretch had been shirking his gate duties more and fucking more.
Christopher made a note to talk to him. It might be time for him to patch out of the fucking club. He wasn’t moving forward or backwards, stuck at the same goddamn spot he’d been in for months.
Kendall continued blowing her horn and not a motherfucker answered. “Jesus, Mary, and all that’s fuckin’ holy.”
Releasing a frustrated breath, he stomped to the gate, using his own card key to open it. He wondered where Kendall’s was, but to find out he had to talk to her, and that wasn’t about to fucking happen.
“Thank you so much,” she called, and sped away. That bitch was up to something. She’d gone from being a humpy faced monster to happy.
“Outlaw,” Daphne cooed again, cornering him at the gate.
Another bitch he wouldn’t spend a lot of time talking to, if he could help it. He wouldn’t even confront her about her bullshit with Megan. If this bitch was anywhere near him for any reason, Megan would flip.
“I wanted to talk to you without everybody listening,” Daphne persisted. “It’s important.”
“Talk to Cash,” he instructed. “He the motherfucker in charge of you bitches.”
“I need to talk to you. Please? This won’t take long.” Licking her lips, she glanced at him through her lashes. “I could always meet you later in your office.”
No, she could always fucking follow him later to his office. At least, now, they were out in the open, in clear view of the monitors. If he needed to pull fucking footage and show Megan this meeting, he would.
“You got two fuckin’ minutes,” he said, not trusting that this bitch wasn’t about to pull some shit, with the way she stared at him. “Talk.”
“I want to be an old lady.”
Her unexpected words caught him off-guard. “And?” he asked, suspicious. Why the fuck she told him what she wanted to be was beyond him. Unless she wanted to be his old lady.
“Can you help me?”
“How the fuck my ass supposed to do that? Ain’t up to me if you get one of them motherfuckers to keep you.”
She reached out her hand to touch him again. His warning glare scared her off and she dropped her hand.
“I know you couldn’t agree to me sucking your cock in front of everybody yesterday,” she whispered, a plea in her eyes. With the fence at his back, she pressed her body against his. “If you give me a chance, I’ll show you how good I am. It can be our secret. If you keep me, I’ll never let anyone know.”
“Keep your fuckin’ hands to your motherfuckin’ self, cunt, and the fuck off me.” Christopher shoved her and she stumbled back. At this point, he wouldn’t have cared if she’d fallen on her fucking ass. If her perfume rubbed off on him, he was so fucked. “Listen up, Daphne. The reason your fuckin’ ass ain’t tossed the fuck out is cuz Megan say you can fuckin’ stay. Don’t push your fuckin’ luck. Just like you got to be a favorite with the brothers, Cash can find another fuckin’ bitch to take your fuckin’ place.”
“What do you mean? Meggie said I can stay? She does
n’t have a say-so.”
“The fuck she don’t. You ain’t fuckin’ with my marriage. I’ll choke the fuck outta you first. You wanna be an old lady? Ain’t no skin off my motherfuckin’ ass. Just stay the fuck outta my girl face. A contest between her and you? Her and any-fuckin-body, she fuckin’ win all the time. Stay the fuck away from me with your bullshit. I’m tellin’ you this one more fuckin’ time, in case you fuckin’ touched in the head. Fuck with Megan and you fuck with your life. We fuckin’ clear?”
Tears rushed to her eyes. “You’re so mean. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
“I want you to stay the fuck away from me.” Through with the conversation, he stalked off, cursing when his cellphone went off at the same time Daphne’s sob reached him. Glancing at the number as he headed to his house, he frowned. The digits seemed familiar, but he couldn’t remember why. “Outlaw,” he grumbled.
“This is Counts.”
The voice reminded Christopher why he kind of recognized the phone number. It was that Torpedo assfuck.
“What the fuck you want?”
Fucking motherfuckers. Over the past months he’d become more family man than biker, so motherfuckers pushed the fuck out of him. Bitches weren’t respecting his orders. Psycho fucking cunts were trying to run him the fuck over. Stupid fucking brothers were playing goddamn games. And fuckholes he’d told to leave him the fuck alone wasn’t listening.
“Did you hear me?”
“No, motherfucker, I ain’t heard a fuckin’ word. Cuz I ain’t interested in meetin’ up with you or talkin’ to you. The Torps peddled little fuckin’ girls.”
“Not anymore,” Counts insisted. “We want to be a Dweller support club. We want your help in reforming.”
Christopher reached his gate and punched in his code. “Lemme explain in a fuckin’ way you might fuckin’ understand. Filthy motherfuckers filled the entire Torpedoes organization. Ain’t bringin’ none of you motherfuckers who wasn’t blown to fuckin’ bits and pieces in my fuckin’ club. Before I know it, you’d fuckin’ lure my brothers into believin’ your shit was a good fuckin’ idea, and I’d have fuckin’ anarchy on my hands. Money make motherfuckers stupid. I’d just as soon fuckin’ kill you than deal with any of you fuckheads. Am I fuckin’ clear now?”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 309