Fee lay in a fucking hospital bed, fighting for her life because of a Torp…and Kendall. Cash was sure of it. She might not have been at the house when Noah stabbed Fee, but she was responsible for bringing the enemy amongst them.
A couple hours later, the sun beat down on Cash’s neck and shoulders as he stood in the club parking lot, searching through the glove compartment in Fee’s Ford Fusion.
After everyone came up with all types of revenge to mete out to Noah and company, Outlaw dispatched Mortician and Val to search Noah’s house. Outlaw ordered Johnnie to talk to Kendall to find out anything she might’ve remembered from her time with Spoon. To be a fly on the wall during that conversation.
When Cash pointed out he might be able to find some information in Fee’s car and her apartment, Outlaw put him on the job. He’d wanted an escape as much as he wanted action. He and Stretch could very well be the recipient of the torture, if Cash didn’t think of what to do.
So far, he found nothing but the usual shit—two tampons, a hair pin, car registration, proof of insurance, and the owner’s manual in the glove compartment. In the bag on her backseat, she had a folder with several monthly statements, a pair of yoga pants and a matching top and a romance novel with a dog-eared page. In the notebook also in her bag, he found a page with wish list of places she wanted to visit and another sheet where a guest list and a menu were written out. At the bottom was the question: should I give myself a birthday party?
Several times, Cash stopped himself from holding her clothes to his nose and sniffing her scent. He was so afraid he’d lose her, that he’d never get to tell her how much he missed her, as he’d told Stretch.
If she survived, Cash would give her as many parties as she wanted. Life was fucking short and fragile, destroyed in a goddamn minute.
“Finding anything, brother?”
Startled by the sound of Slipper’s voice, Cash raised his head, bumping it on the edge of the car. “Fuck!” Backing out and straightening, he glared at Slipper. “What?”
Slipper swigged from the bottle of cheap alcohol he held. “I said have you found something we could use.”
“No. Anything else?”
“Need some company?”
“Fuck no. Next.” As usual, the motherfucker reeked of alcohol and body odor.
“You walking around without a shirt for a reason?”
“It’s fucking hot, motherfucker. Moving along.”
By the twinkle in Slipper’s eyes, the fuckhead was baiting him about Stretch, hoping he slipped up.
Noticing Kendall heading their way from the direction of the pathway that led to the houses, Slipper whistled. “Look who the saints brought out. That’s a gorgeous bitch. I want to fuck her raw.”
“Who?” Cash asked in confusion.
“Kendall,” Slipper slurred, swaying on his feet.
A gorgeous bitch with the heart of a viper. He reminded himself she was also Johnnie’s old lady. He wouldn’t appreciate another motherfucker talking about her as Slipper was. He had no love for Kendall, but, as Johnnie’s woman, he’d protect her.
“Go the fuck home, asshole, and sleep off your alcohol. Stop talking about Kendall before you get your ass killed.”
“Fucking whore.”
Cash snorted and pulled Fee’s bag out, setting it on the trunk to continue searching through it. “Ever tell Johnnie that about his woman?”
“We all know she’s a slut. She fucked her way through life. Tried to give pussy to Outlaw. She still want to. I bet if that cunt got to fuck Outlaw in exchange for letting John Boy getting in Meggie’s pussy, she’d agree.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Cash warned. “If I kick your fucking ass on behalf of her, I’ll have to tell John Boy why and he wouldn’t be happy.”
“What’s it to you, brother? Why are you getting in a snit?”
“Outlaw would tell us she deserves our respect as Johnnie’s old lady.” For that reason, he’d be the first to defend her. For so many others, he’d be the first to kill her.
Slipper scowled. “Me and my boys on her guard detail sometimes. I can’t stand that assignment. She orders us around like we’re shit. The bitch thinks she’s better than us. I just told my boys we need to bring her down a peg or two. Remind her she’s nothing special. Club bitches come a dime a dozen. All their whores can be replaced at any time, but especially that uppity slut.”
Cash sucked in air to control his temper. The motherfucker was drunk.
Slipper drained his bottle. “Even before I dealt with that bitch myself, my boys wanted to fuck her. They saw her when Mort brought her out of the meatshack all trussed up before he threw her in the back of John Boy’s Navigator.”
“Go home, motherfucker,” Cash said again, offering a tight smile. “Sleep this shit off.”
“Can’t. I got to go somewhere with Outlaw.”
“You’ll fucking wipe out if you drive so fucked up.”
“Hey, Cash,” Kendall interrupted. Strands of her red hair plastered to her cheek and neck from the sweat generated by her brisk walk. “Slipper.”
Slipper focused on Kendall’s generous cleavage, displayed in a V-neck top, before glancing at her baby bump. She had a pair of endless legs that gave her a height advantage over the man and made her nearly as tall as Cash.
“Yo, Cash,” Outlaw said, walking up to their group. “I’m headin’ out. Slipper, you ready?”
Kendall cleared her throat, but Outlaw ignored her.
“Yo, fuckhead,” he snarled to Slipper, who had yet to raise his leer from Kendall’s tits. “My ass over fuckin’ here.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t even fucking think about it, asshole,” she warned, noticing his attention.
Slipper snickered. “You know you want me, Kendall.”
Outlaw frowned.
“In your fucking dreams,” she said. “Why would I want a dirty fucking pig like you? You’d have to look up the word shower to get an inkling of the definition. Same with shampoo, deodorant and soap, dickhead.”
Slipper bristled. “You need to talk to me with more respect.”
“I talk to you with the same fucking respect you talk to me,” she snarled.
“You not better than me,” Slipper huffed. “I was just showing you a little titty-love. In case you forgot, we all saw them when you came for Outlaw.”
“Not this fuckin’ shit a-fuckin-gain,” Outlaw said. “Drop the shit and let’s fuckin’ go.”
“What I did with Outlaw isn’t your business,” she said, losing some of her steam, her eyes watering. “You’ll respect me as Johnnie’s wife or else.”
Slipper chortled. “Why the fuck I have to respect you when Outlaw don’t?”
“Fuck me, I said shut the fuck up,” Outlaw ordered. “Cuz she fuckin’ right, Slipper. You fuckin’ respectin’ her as John Boy wife and as a bitch under club protection.”
“You don’t need to jump in and rescue me,” she told Outlaw through tight lips. “I’m not Meggie.”
Outlaw glared at Kendall, still not speaking to her.
“Come on, motherfucker,” he said to Slipper, leaning against the car and lighting a cigarette. “Drop this shit. I wanna check on Fee, then we gotta hit some fuckin’ spots.”
“I’m going to tell Johnnie I don’t want you guarding me ever again,” she said. “He’s going to ask me why and I intend to tell him, in great detail, what went on today. Be prepared to kiss your ass goodbye. Disrespecting another member’s old lady is not done. If you don’t want Johnnie’s wrath, apologize to me.”
“If you apologize to me for talking down to me, I’ll apologize to you,” Slipper negotiated.
“In your fucking dreams,” she said with a snort.
He belched again and pounded on his chest with his fist. “Suck my cock, Kendall.”
Sighing and flicking his cigarette away, Outlaw elbowed Slipper in the nose. Blood gushed out and Slipper covered his bleeding nostrils with his hand, moaning. Pummeling his face and jaw,
Outlaw dropped Slipper like a sack of shit, delivering a few kicks to his stomach.
Slipper vomited alcohol and blood, with chunks of the fried chicken breast he’d eaten.
Outlaw frowned at the mess on the ground. “Stand the fuck up.”
Instead, curling up, the man clutched his stomach and coughed.
“I’m fuckin’ countin’ to ten. If you ain’t on your fuckin’ feet, I’m stompin’ the fuck outta you. One.”
Slipper swayed to his knees, breathing heavily.
“Two.”
He planted one foot on the ground.
“Three.”
He dropped his knee, instead of moving the second foot.
“Four.”
Slipper doubled over, regressing.
“Five.”
More vomit.
“Six.”
“Outlaw’s going to fucking kill you for insulting me,” Kendall announced, flushing at Outlaw’s glower.
“Seven.”
Panting, Slipper attempted to plant both feet on the ground again.
“Eight.”
When Slipper stood, Kendall’s face fell in disappointment.
“Lemme explain shit to you, Slipper.” Outlaw circled the man. “How the fuck I feel about Kendall ain’t got fuck all to do with how the fuck you feel. It sure the fuck ain’t got fuck all to do with how the fuck I expect you to fuckin’ treat her. She belong to Johnnie. You better fuckin’ respect her for that fuckin’ reason alone. This bitch fucked with my cock and my wife, but you ain’t fuckin’ disrespectin’ her.” He ended his speech with a solid punch to Slipper’s mouth that sent him flying backwards. “I gotta get the fuck,” he announced as if he hadn’t just knocked a motherfucker out cold. “This must be the fuckin’ Piss-Outlaw-the-fuck-off-week.”
“Thank you for defending my honor, Outlaw,” Kendall said softly.
He didn’t respond to her.
“Should I tell Johnnie about Slipper, Outlaw?”
“Cash, if you need my fuckin’ ass, hit me on my cell,” Outlaw said and walked away, refusing to acknowledge Kendall.
Her lower lip trembled as Outlaw reached his hog, his loud pipes filling the air, a biker’s symphony that Cash never tired of. Stretch already had the gate open and Outlaw sped through, gliding to a stop as Johnnie did the same, heading in.
Kendall studied the two men. “Should I tell Johnnie?”
“Slipper’s drunk,” Cash explained. “I could be wrong, but he won’t fuck with you again after Outlaw set him straight. Maybe, you can give him another chance. If he fucks up again, then tell John Boy.”
She nodded. “I wanted to talk to you before Johnnie got back, but I guess it’ll have to wait.”
Johnnie and Outlaw still were talking so Cash asked, “What about? Give me the shortened version.”
“Can you get pills for me?”
What the fuck? What the hell was she talking about? “Pills?”
“Abortion pills.”
Cash’s considered her stomach. “You want to abort your baby?”
“I’m tired of keeping up with Meggie. I still won’t have four children, since I’m not carrying twins. I don’t want this baby.”
“You need to talk to Johnnie.”
“He doesn’t want the baby, either. He told me if I won’t go back on my medicine to get rid of it.”
Kendall had major issues. He almost understood why Fee tried to befriend her. “If you got pregnant because Meggie has four children, then it was for the wrong reason.”
“What does it matter? Even if Johnnie wants this baby, he doesn’t deserve it, treating me as he has.”
“You can’t use your baby to punish Johnnie,” he pointed out.
Kendall walked closer. “Who knew an MC was so full of secrets and deceptions, right? I know Fee told you about our unfortunate incident.”
There’d been no fucking unfortunate accident. This wasn’t fucking Lemony Snickett. This was blackmail.
“That got Daphne killed.”
“Daphne got Daphne killed,” she retorted. “The point is, I still have more ammunition against you, if you’re thinking about payback. You have contacts, so I came to you.”
Cash stiffened at her threat, fed up with Kendall and worried about Fee. “Really? I have one or two things on you. Counts, for instance. The man you’ve been in contact with.”
Instead of going into full panic, Kendall narrowed her eyes. “Try me. If Johnnie doesn’t kill you, I’ll see to it that the Yeti Outlaw knocked out, discovers your relationship with Stretch.”
Cash laughed without humor. “Johnnie has no reason to kill me.”
“Except lying about me. Do you really think he’d believe I’ve fraternized with a biker from the Torps?”
If Johnnie had any sense, he’d put nothing past his wife.
“If Fee confesses, she puts her relationship with her brother at risk, as well as yours and Stretch’s lives.”
Right, on all accounts, but Cash wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing her victory. She was making a lot of enemies at the club. She’d best watch her back. Through with the threats, he returned to the original reason she’d sought him out. “Go to a fucking clinic and get rid of your baby.”
“I have my reasons for asking your help, but forget it. If I go through with my plan, I’ll do it on my own.”
“What are you doing out here, gorgeous?” Johnnie asked before Cash responded, walking up to them and frowning at a bloodied, bruised, and still-unconscious Slipper. “What the fuck happened to him?”
Kendall shrugged. “You know how barbaric Christopher is,” she said on a sniff. “Slipper said something the asshole didn’t like and he beat him to a pulp.”
“Stupid motherfuckers never learn,” Johnnie replied.
Just as stupid bitches didn’t.
“As to the reason I’m here, I was going to visit Meggie but stopped to say ‘hi’ to Cash.”
Nodding as if his wife spoke to Cash all the time, Johnnie yawned, clueless. “I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours. Come to bed with me.” He leered at her.
“If you insist.” she said, smiling.
“Later, Cash.” Johnnie grabbed his wife’s hand and, together, they walked toward the pathway.
Cash hoped the woman came to her senses, though he doubted it. This was Kendall, after all.
Knocking back a shot of tequila, Christopher glowered at the naked girl dancing in front of him. She was small and blonde, but couldn’t touch Megan’s beauty.
Derby was a funny motherfucker, sending one of his bitches to Christopher’s table. This fucking shit was the primary fucking reason Megan hated that motherfucker. Derby was a cheating assfuck.
The blonde turned and lifted her hair to better show off her ass before facing Christopher again.
“Ain’t interested, babe, so walk the fuck on.” Christopher didn’t visit Derby’s club much anymore, mainly due to bitches like her.
Dweller club ass fucked on their own free will. The Bobs were brought out to pleasure the brothers. But Derby’s bitches had a fucking quota to meet each day to bring in a certain amount of money.
The blonde allowed her hair to fall around her and began fingering her pussy, ignoring Christopher’s words.
Christopher averted his gaze, gritting his teeth. Where the fuck was Derby? If he could find motherfucking Noah on his own, he’d bring his ass the fuck out of there before he really lost his fucking temper.
The whore bent toward him, so close her tits touched his face. Smiling, she lifted the finger she had in her cunt and waved it beneath Christopher’s nose.
Getting to his feet, Christopher pulled his nine and jammed it into her mouth. “You got five fuckin’ seconds to get the fuck away from me.”
Fuck Derby’s help.
She trembled, her gaze flickering to the side before relief entered her eyes. Christopher knew that meant one of Derby’s brothers had arrived.
“We take issue—”
Christopher shoved the slut away and transferred the direction of his nine, aiming it at Jax’s face. It didn’t matter that he recognized the club’s enforcer. Nor did it matter that they’d drank together sometimes. Christopher was on edge, fed the fuck up. His little sister was critical and another bitch was trying to get Megan to fuck him up.
Wasn’t about to fucking happen.
“Pull your fuckin’ trigger and put your piece away and get that cunt the fuck away from me, Jax,” he ordered. He should shoot the fuck out of both of them anyway. He’d have to tell Megan about this bitch and that might earn him another pussy lockout. She wouldn’t be so understanding after Daphne…Fuck!
“Outlaw, don’t shoot,” Jax said, attempting to sound firm. But it was the middle of the day and he had no backup in sight. By the time they came into the bar, Jax would be deader than fuck. “I’m putting my weapon away.”
Once his piece disappeared, he lifted his hands to show Christopher he wasn’t armed.
“Where Derby?”
“Fucking one of the girls before Gypsy arrives.” Jax shook his head. “After the last incident, he promised her he’d stop fucking over her.”
Christopher had no wish to hear about Derby’s cheating ass. He had fucking problems of his own. Just a week ago, he would’ve been bored enough to want to know. He couldn’t give a fuck at the moment, faced yet again with the loss of a family member.
Of all people, too. His little sister. She’d survived through the night, but she looked so fucking pale. Seeing her so helpless hit him hard and brought back memories of all the times he’d almost lost his wife.
“Outlaw,” Derby greeted, taking a seat as if Christopher wasn’t brandishing his nine.
The motherfucker smelled of sweat, perfume, alcohol, and sex. Fucking asshole.
Annoyed, Christopher shoved his piece away.
“What did you do to Amber? She ran to my office and burst into tears.”
“She lucky to be any-fuckin-where,” Christopher snapped. “Megan ain’t expectin’ me to kill every bitch who fuck with me.” He held up his left hand and indicated his wedding band. “Fuck with this.”
Derby grinned. “You don’t have to kill bitches, you mad bastard.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 342