“A lot, huh?” Johnnie sneered. “You shouldn’t be afraid to say how many ass whippings you deserve.”
“We’ll just fuck him up a fuckin’ lot,” Christopher said in a low, deadly tone.
“Do you know why we pay you so much?” Johnnie shook him, using Brooks’ salt-and-pepper hair as leverage. “So you’d drop everything when we call you to handle any club problems. Payoff who the fuck won’t deal with us to take money directly from us. We pay you to put out small fires and raging infernos. We pay you for your troubles. And this is how you repay us?”
“Look here, Brooks.” Christopher halted in front of him. “We was makin’ a good fuckin’ profit at the lab before we put you on the fuckin’ payroll. We barely breakin’ fuckin’ even cuz of the money we send you every month.”
“I swear, Outlaw, you don’t have to pay me for a year,” he sobbed.
“We won’t have to pay you ever again if I disembowel you,” Johnnie said through gritted teeth.
“John Boy—”
“Shut up, motherfucker,” he interrupted. “Kendall adores Charlotte. I suffer her on my wife’s behalf, when I’m quite aware she doesn’t like me. Maybe, I should give her a true reason to hate my fucking guts?”
“Johnnie, don’t do this. Think about my children. My oldest daughter is pregnant again. I want to see my grandbaby. Please. I swear I’ll talk to Charlotte. If she ever gives me that type of ultimatum, I’ll ignore her. Take my chances with her leaving me.”
“We ain’t a club to fuck up bitches,” Christopher began, “but your bitch crossed a motherfuckin’ line. I only fuckin’ killed two bitches in my life. Only thing savin’ Charlotte fuckin’ life is she ain’t insult Megan in no kinda way. That shit earlier, though? Between Megan and Kendall. Make me believe Kendall off her fuckin’ meds a-fuckin-gain.” Fuck, had Fee known that before she quit and kept it from him? Fucking right she had. Kendall started her bullshit while Fee still worked for her, so why hadn’t his little sister done the job he’d asked of her? As soon as she healed, he’d ask her those fucking questions. “Johnnie love that cunt. If she turnin’ into a psycho bitch a-fuckin-gain and it’s your bitch’s fault…where the fuck I’m going with this, Brooks?”
“I’ll talk to Charlotte,” he screamed in a high-pitched tone. “I’ll see what’s going on.”
There was another motherfucker Brooks got to help with club shit when Kendall was fucking barred from doing it. If Brooks couldn’t get Christopher the fuck out, afraid his bitch would do a pussy lockout, than that other motherfucker should’ve jumped to it. “What the fuck happened to that other motherfucker? Kyler. Why the fuck you ain’t call him to get me out?”
Tears leaked from Brooks’ eyes. “Charlotte sits on a couple of the cultural boards his wife wants to get on. He couldn’t betray her.”
“So he betrayed my ass?”
Christopher nodded to Cash, summoning him over. “You was in for two fuckin’ days, brother. Any-fuckin-thing you gotta tell him for that injustice?”
“Am I limited to one punch?”
“Two. One for each fuckin’ day. Not in his face area. If we let him fuckin’ live, Charlotte don’t need to see. Cuz if she call Kendall and Kendall bring this to Megan, heads fuckin’ rollin’.
Cash grinned. “Got it.”
Brooks whimper-sobbed. Cash looked ready to beat him to a fucking pulp, but he followed Christopher’s orders and punched him twice, satisfied when Brooks vomited.
“Get Kyler here.” Christopher pulled out his cell phone. “I gotta call Megan and tell her don’t fuckin’ wait up for my ass.”
Johnnie manhandled Brooks to a seat. The attorney’s shoulders heaved, his eyes dull with pain and fear.
“You heard Christopher. Call him.”
He raised a resigned gaze. “What are you going to do to him?”
“You or fuckin’ him,” Christopher responded, all the answer he afforded, although it was easy to fill in the blanks.
“Kyler’s thirty-five-years-old. A father of three boys. My son-in-law,” he revealed. “You want to take him away?”
“He ain’t givin’ a fuck my ass got took from my girl and my kids.”
Leaving Brooks to make the call and forgetting his meal completely, Christopher led Cash and Johnnie to the other side of the bar.
“Get Mort back the fuck over here. Have fuckin’ Digger dig a grave.”
“You sure it shouldn’t be two?” Johnnie asked.
“One of them motherfuckers gotta stay alive to warn the other motherfuckers don’t fuck over us,” Outlaw pointed out.
“If Brooks turns up missing, Kendall will know immediately,” Cash pointed out, leaving Christopher’s promise to Megan unspoken.
Christopher turned to Johnnie. “Go to your bitch, John Boy. I’ll fuck up Kyler my-fuckin-self.”
“No, Christopher. It could’ve just as easily been me left in jail for seven fucking days.”
“Christopher.” Megan’s voice puffed out behind their little group.
Turning her way, Christopher saw her standing there, red-faced, out-of-breath, and in her bare feet, as if a dire situation had chased…He glared in Brooks’ direction. Motherfucker had texted Megan to save his ass. He must’ve texted his fucking ass off.
Megan stumbled forward, pausing in front of Brooks, using her body as a shield.
“Christopher, don’t kill anybody. Please, just come home.”
“I ain’t touched him, Megan,” Christopher said. “But the motherfuckers fucked over the club. Ain’t fuck-all you tellin’ me changin’ my mind. Stay outta club business.”
“I will. I swear,” she promised.
“You didn’t even call Kyler, did you, Brooks?” Johnnie inquired.
“He texted me,” Megan answered.
“For doin’ that shit, I’m beatin’ the fuck outta him, Megan. Case fuckin’ closed. Now go. Ain’t gonna kill Brooks, but Kyler fuckin’ dead. Hear me?”
She didn’t move, her look begging him to change his mind. When she saw he wouldn’t, she nodded. “Okay.”
“Cash, get rid of Charlotte fuckin’ house. It belong to Brooks too, but he deserve it for listenin’ to her. Lettin’ her use my fuckin’ money to renovate and then fuckin’ over me.”
Cash’s eyes lit up in anticipation. “You want it to go boom, boom, pow?”
“I ain’t givin’ a fuck. I just want it fuckin’ gone. Gotta think about what the fuck to do to the law office, since that’s in a goddamn buildin’ with innocent civilians. But that motherfucker goin’ too.”
Megan shifted her weight but didn’t say anything.
“Johnnie, find Kyler while I clean up. Me, you and Brooks gotta meetin’ with that motherfucker in the meatshack, just as soon as I bring my girl back home.”
Christopher left Megan asleep and thoroughly fucked. He hoped like fucking hell she’d remembered to take her birth control pills while he was locked the fuck away. If she hadn’t, he could see another little motherfucker being delivered into the world in nine fucking months as much and as hard as he’d come.
He snickered. It only took a drop to make a baby, so…
“Prez, what you grinning about?” Mort asked, leaning against the table, already in uniform with plastic gloves, plastic apron, and rubber boots. Brooks sat tied and handcuffed on a chair in the corner.
“Thinkin’ about my girl make me smile,” Christopher answered, the truth. In his darkest hour, all he needed to do was remember Megan and his world lit up. “Dontcha feel the same way about Bailey?”
Mort nodded, sucking on the cigarette he’d picked up from the edge of the table. “Bailey my everything, Prez. You know she is.”
“Any more from Roxy?
“She mad at my ass for telling Bailey, so she dropped the fuck out of sight. But I couldn’t keep that from her. I prefer Roxanne mad at me, then my wife.”
“Wanderin’ ‘round pussy no man’s land ain’t fun,” Christopher agreed as Johnnie marched a motherfucker in paj
amas into the meatshack, Glock pointed at the back of his head.
Blood dripped from his nose and cut lips, and his eyes were swollen. Brooks made a sound of distress around the gag in his mouth.
Mort straightened and smirked at Kyler. “Ain’t so sadity now, huh, motherfucker? Prez, Meggie girl tell you how the fuck he talk to her?”
Kyler took in the scene, his gaze going from Mort to Christopher and finally to Brooks. Fear washed away the pain and he turned, attempting to rush past Johnnie.
Johnnie grabbed him by the back of his top.
Kyler stumbled. “You said you wouldn’t kill me if I cooperated.”
Cocking his piece, Johnnie gave a cemetery smile. “I’m not killing you. Now, move. Lay the fuck on that table like a good motherfucker, so Mort can do a few experiments on you.”
“Brooks!” Kyler screamed, as if that motherfucker had the power to fix this. “Help me!”
“Yeah, Brooks, help this motherfucker.” Christopher went to Brooks and removed the gag, punching his jaw. “Help him fuckin explain what the fuck Mort meant.”
Since Kyler hadn’t moved, Johnnie and Mort hustled him to the table, with Johnnie throwing death glares to Christopher. Left up to him, he would shoot the motherfucker and end his dry spell.
“HELP!” Kyler screamed. “Someone HELP!!”
Christopher lit a cigarette and released the smoke after taking a draw, the motherfucker’s yells working on his ass. “Shut the fuck up,” he ordered, stuffing his smoke in the corner of his mouth. He grabbed a handful of Brooks’ hair and yanked his head back, exposing his throat. “One more fuckin’ sound and I’m slittin’ his throat.”
His body trembled, but Kyler shut up, while Brooks sniffled.
“Now, motherfuckers, explain to my fuckin’ ass why the fuck you takin’ my fuckin’ money and left my ass in jail. Tell my ass why the fuck I was set the fuck up to die in a goddamn shower if I ain’t killed fuckhead. Explain to me what the fuck you said to my woman.” With each word, he yanked on Brooks’ hair. “Know what, Kyler? Your loyalty to your bitch pops impressed me. To save his fuckin’ life, you shut the fuck up. I fuckin’ like that. I fuckin’ admire a man who defend his own. Know why? I defend my own, too. My club. My club money. My money. But e-fuckin-specially my Megan. You committed crimes against all the fuckin’ above.”
He released Brooks. The motherfucker didn’t bother to hide his tears. He’d fucked over Christopher, too, and he fucking knew it.
Christopher slammed his fist against his jaw again, then walked to where Kyler lay, strapped to the table. He circled him, pausing at the counter to get a knife and ice pick from the counter.
“You set me up, Kyler?” he asked. “Yeah, motherfuckers take a dislike to other motherfuckers. Some guards throw their fuckin’ weight a-fuckin-round, but this felt like a fuckin’ hit to me.”
Instead of answering, Kyler screwed up his face and cried.
“You did it on Brooks’ orders?”
The motherfucker didn’t answer, just kept crying.
Christopher jammed the icepick into Kyler’s side, not concerned by his screams.
“You ever met Christopher Caldwell?” he asked, deciding to use Megan’s assessment of him. Over the months, he realized she was right. “He a simple motherfucker. Love his woman, his children, and his club. Give motherfuckers a lotta fuckin’ chances. That’s the motherfucker that needed you to represent him. He only wanted to be in bed with his wife. A day or two away woulda been fucked up, but seven days? Christopher might’ve for-fuckin-given you. Slapped your fuckin’ head and said ain’t puttin’ up with that a-fuckin-gain.” He went to where Kyler’s hands were shackled above his head. “Outlaw ain’t so fuckin’ nice.” He studied Kyler’s wedding band, then slid it from his finger and waved it in front of him. “What the fuck this mean to you?”
Kyler responded with a snotty sob as the ring to clattered to the table.
“Greedy motherfucker took my fuckin’ money.” Unshackling one hand and raising it up, Christopher hacked off four fingers, ignoring the screams and pleas.
Blood, fear, and sweat scented the air, annoying Christopher. If he allowed Brooks to live, he wanted to impress upon that motherfucker what would happen if he fucked over him again. This was the second time the motherfucker let a crazy bitch lead him down the wrong path. Otherwise, he would’ve shot Kyler and got it the fuck over with. Torture was Johnnie’s thing.
“Christopher,” Johnnie called, “let me do the other hand.”
Seeing Johnnie give in to his obsession with the smell of blood would take for-fucking-ever. Once the motherfucker started, he’d never want to stop. Most of the time, blood excited him. The exception being if he had to deal with psycho cunt.
Growling at the thought, Christopher sliced the top of Kyler’s thigh, then held up the knife to Johnnie.
As Johnnie hacked off the thumb Christopher had left and his other five fingers, Christopher went to Brooks and removed his gag. “Whatcha gotta say now, Brooks?”
“I’m sorry!” he cried, slobbering all over the place. “Please, I swear. I’m so sorry.”
“You shoulda been thinkin’ about that before you fucked over me,” Christopher snarled, the sound of the attorney’s voice pissing him the fuck and driving him to deliver a few punches.
“Stop, before you knock him the fuck out,” Johnnie admonished, rubbing his brow with the back of his hand. His eyes glinting, blood dripped from his fingers and spattered his jaw. “How the fuck will he learn…or will you shoot him in the head?”
Brooks sobbed as Kyler’s cries trickled to moans. Whatever answers he’d wanted would have to be dragged the fuck out of him. This was no longer a life or death situation. As long as he didn’t end up the fuck back in jail.
Getting his nine and exchanging a regular bullet for a hollow, Christopher went to the table. “Look at me, motherfucker.”
Shivering from shock, Kyler raised a cloudy gaze to him.
“I ain’t gotta hear what the fuck you said to Megan. Ain’t fuckin’ important. You fuckin’ bad e-fuckin-nuff to fuck over me. You bad e-fuckin-nuff to take the punishment.”
Christopher held Kyler’s gaze, lifted his nine, and fired, sending blood, skin, brain, and bone in all directions.
“Get rid of this motherfucker, Mort,” he ordered, not concerned by the screams of Brooks.
Mort nodded to his power saws on the counter. “I’ll finish up as soon as you and John Boy leave, Prez.” He preferred solitude to do his work.
“Get Brooks the fuck outta here, Johnnie.”
So ordered, Christopher headed to the club to shower. Megan knew he intended to kill, but he wouldn’t bring death to their house.
It took Cash several hours to amass the materials he needed to complete his tasks. The entire time, he wrestled with regret at not being in on the fun in the meatshack. Finally, the time arrived for him to head to Portland. On the drive to the Reddings, he appreciated the breezy night, filled with stars.
Although the roar of his bike wasn’t as loud as Outlaw’s, it didn’t mean he had stealth on his side. Seeing an upstairs light flicker on as he halted in the driveway of the Redding mansion came as no surprise. As he grabbed his kit from his saddlebag, the door swung open.
“Where’s my husband?”
Cash had met Charlotte Redding, on several occasions. In theory, he’d known her most of his life. Or women like her. For instance, his stepmother. Cassandra McCall had been a raving lunatic, driven insane by his father and her mother. Fuck, his step-grandmother. Helen Sanderson was a wicked old bitch, who he’d come to an uneasy truce with, for Georgie’s sake.
“Answer me, Mr. McCall,” Charlotte demanded, attempting to block his entrance.
“Let me inside and I’ll answer your questions. Ma’am,” he added, just to piss her off.
Tightening the belt of her silk robe, she glared at him. “I’ll call 911 and have them dispatch a unit immediately.”
“Then, call the
funeral home, Charlotte. That’s where your husband will be.”
She lifted her chin. “What do you want?”
No bullshit, but he doubted that request would be fulfilled. “No more questions. Let me in. I’ll tell you what I think you need to know, then I want you to leave.”
“You must be out of your mind. I’m not leaving my house, especially on your orders.”
Cash brushed passed her, ignoring her outraged yell. He surveyed the high ceilings, wooden ladders, and drop cloths. Paint thinner and wood varnish would aid in the explosion.
The sound of a dial tone broke through his contemplation. “Calling Brooks?”
“No! The cops.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Get fucking dressed and put as much distance from this place as possible.”
Before Charlotte responded, the door opened and Brooks stumbled in. One of his jaws was swollen and discolored. He was ashen, as if he’d already seen a demon, and survived to tell the tale. His dazed gaze fell on Cash and fear crept into his eyes.
“Brooks!” Charlotte cried with panic, rushing forward, still gripping her phone. “What happened to you?”
“Ch-ch-charlotte,” he got out, from the side of his mouth, as if he couldn’t bear to speak in any other manner. “W-w-we h-h-have to l-l-le—”
“Leave,” Cash finished in a hard voice.
“I’m not talking to you!” Charlotte spat. “Now that Brooks is home, he’ll take care of you.”
Instead of agreeing with his wife, Brooks’ eyes widened in horror and he shook his head. Fed up with Charlotte’s attitude, Cash drew out his gun and aimed it at Brooks’ head.
Charlotte screamed and Brooks ducked, wrapping his hands around his head.
“Now that I have your attention, kiddies, you have ten minutes to get the fuck out. Otherwise, I’m tying you two together and attaching the explosives to your rope. Allow your blood and guts to sizzle in the fire.”
Her mouth opening and tears rushing to her eyes, Charlotte paled. She sobbed against Brooks.
“C-Cash, pl-please,” Brooks pushed out.
“Get your wife and leave while you still can,” Cash ordered without sympathy. Charlotte had been the impetus behind Kendall’s behavior and Outlaw’s extended jail time. Besides, he needed to vindicate Fee’s blackmail and Daphne’s death. “I’m losing patience.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 352