Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  No. If she focused on that, she’d fall into a deep depression that she’d never pull herself out of.

  She had to get those pills. Then, she’d call Johnnie and sob out her misery of losing their baby. If he cared at all for her, he’d come. Then, she’d have her Johnnie back and, possibly, her happiness.

  Awaiting Brooks to bring him up-to-date on the status of his case, Christopher sat in his office at the club. A week had passed since the fiasco of the christening planning and he hadn’t set eyes on Fee, in spite of Megan and Zoann being after him to do so. Maybe, he was being an unfair motherfucker, but Fee had been the same.

  All the fuck she needed to do was tell his ass Kendall had stopped taking her meds. If she wanted to hide Cash and Stretch from him, oh-fucking-well. Not that she hid them motherfuckers too good. Christopher had long suspected they fucked. It was Megan who convinced him to give them a chance.

  Now that he thought about it, he realized Cash had been acting differently for a while. Christopher had just been too focused on what the motherfucker had done to see what the fuck he was doing. Perception was a motherfucker.

  Megan told him all about the scene at Fee’s apartment. When Fee ended up back at his house, it hadn’t been because of Noah, although he didn’t doubt she’d met Counts by then. It had been because Cash was a yellow-bellied, spineless assfuck. That Christopher could take. He’d even share in the fucking responsibility, but knowing about Kendall’s bullshit and holding it in was all on Fee.

  His little pain-in-the-ass motherfucker pointed out that she’d hidden her knowledge about Fee’s relationship with Cash and Stretch. She challenged him to be as angry with her as he was with Fee. Of course, he couldn’t do that. Megan’s actions didn’t affect their marriage.

  “Christopher,” Johnnie said, barging into the office and interrupting his thoughts. “Brooks showed up yet?”

  “Do you see the motherfucker, motherfucker?”

  “Not that motherfucker,” Mort said, following Johnnie in and pointing to Val. “But this motherfucker showed up to be nosy.”

  “You ain’t bein’ nosy, Mort?”

  Mort grinned. “Nope. Just showing some support, Prez.”

  “Seein’ if you have another job, yeah?” Christopher guessed. If Brooks didn’t have good news for him, he was fucking him up and Mort would have to dispose of him.

  “I fuck Brooks up,” Johnnie argued. “On behalf of you and Kendall.”

  “Only if he ain’t found a fuckin’ way to keep my ass outta fuckin’ prison.”

  “Knock, knock,” Brooks said timidly, tipping through the open doorway. Unlike the designer suits he once wore, his mismatched plaid pants and striped shirt was kinda fucked-up.

  “You fuckin’ late.”

  Brooks whimpered.

  Scared fucking pussy.

  “I-I-I’m sorry. I-I-I had a problem reaching…” Cringing, Brooks snapped his mouth shut, his eyes darting around the room. “I-I-I mean…”

  “Not that, huh, brother?” Mort asked. “That’s the shit you said when Prez was locked up.”

  “How about you change that script?” Johnnie suggested. “Before I have your eyeball delivered to Charlotte in a ring box?”

  Johnnie hadn’t revealed where he’d sent Charlotte and Christopher hadn’t bothered to ask. For all he cared, the bitch could’ve been encased in concrete and sent to the bottom of a fucking river. Stretch had told him how she’d talked to Megan and Christopher would never fucking forgive her.

  One reason he was fucking enjoying Brooks’ terror so much and didn’t feel an ounce of fucking pity was because of the bitch he’d married.

  “What’s the verdict, Brooks?” Val asked. “You walking away with your dick intact?”

  “Or do I get to bring you to the meatshack?” Johnnie finished, almost salivating at the prospect.

  Sniffling, Brooks drew in a ragged breath. “I th-think the deal I made s-solves the pr-problem.”

  “You think?” Mort echoed.

  “No! I-I mean I know it’s solved,” Brooks stammered.

  “Ex-fuckin-plain.”

  “The police officers on your case wanted to see you in jail, so I couldn’t bribe them. I’d be at risk of going to jail myself.”

  Johnnie rapped his hand against Brooks’ jaw. “That fucking matters how?”

  “Yeah, get to the motherfuckin’ point,” Christopher snapped, irritated they had to draw information from the assfuck.

  “I br-bribed…I p-paid off a f-few p-people w-with the m-money you gave me. Someone in the records department. The j-judge who set your bond. W-witnesses at the hospital. If they t-turn—”

  “We fuck them up,” Christopher said.

  “N-no. Your f-files have been d-deleted from the system. L-like you never existed. C-Cash, too.”

  Christopher stared at Brooks. “This ain’t comin’ back to haunt my ass?”

  “N-no.”

  “Know what, Brooks?”

  He shook so bad, he looked a minute from fucking fainting. “N-n-n-n-o.”

  “I’ma believe your ass and let you live. You better hope this the last of the shit cuz if it ain’t I’ma let Johnnie torture you worse than he did Kyler, then I’ma shoot the fuck outta you. Under-fuckin-stand?”

  Brooks nodded with force.

  “Put this motherfucker on a airplane and send him to his fuckin’ bitch,” Christopher ordered. “Any bribe money you got left, turn it the fuck in.”

  “Outlaw…h-hear me out. My p-partners are scrambling to f-find another building. We had fire and w-water damage. We lost everything. Can you help them get back on their feet? They had n-nothing to do with what I d-decided. C-Cash could’ve found a way to disable the sprinklers on my floor and allowed the fire to spread throughout my offices.”

  “Ain’t cuz of your firm, fuckhead. It was cuz of the other tenants on the other floors. Ain’t makin’ innocent civilians suffer cuz the firm in my back pocket fucked over me.”

  “M-my p-partners didn’t know.”

  “Get the fuck outta my face, motherfucker, and be happy I let you fuckin’ live.”

  In celebration of Outlaw and Cash getting out of their problems, the main room was filled to capacity with brothers for a toast, after a special church session to make the announcement. With Potter behind the bar, two Probates were setting out the food Meggie had cooked earlier. She’d left several aluminum pans warming in the oven. Cash couldn’t wait to get a plate. He was fucking starving. The meeting hadn’t lasted long, but he hadn’t eaten today.

  As he joined their group, Johnnie’s phone rang—Kendall, based on the ringtone.

  Outlaw recognized it, too. The glare he offered Johnnie made all of them shut the fuck up. Afraid to mumble a word, Cash nodded to Potter, who handed him a beer a moment later.

  Johnnie disconnected the call and stared, his face ashen.

  Outlaw frowned. “Kendall found out you sent Brooks away?”

  No answer.

  “You okay, John Boy?” Mort asked.

  Clutching his phone, Johnnie didn’t answer.

  Concern dropped into Outlaw’s face. “Yo, Johnnie, what the fuck wrong?”

  Elbows on the bar top, he allowed his phone to clatter to the wood. “Kendall,” he said. “She lost the baby. My second son.”

  “Aww fuck, Johnnie. I’m sorry,” Mort said. “Red okay?”

  “She’s devastated. Crying. I…” Bowing his head, Johnnie covered his face. “She doesn’t want a doctor. She said it’s too late. With all the bleeding she did, the baby’s gone.”

  Cash recalled Kendall’s request for abortion pills. All the stress she’d endured made it highly possible, she had miscarried. Cash doubted it, though.

  “This is my fault,” Johnnie said woodenly. “She asked me to stay with her or to leave the kids with her. I was so fucking angry with her for starting bullshit again. Now, she sounds…”

  Mort clapped Johnnie on the back. “Red being upset understandable, brother.”r />
  “She wasn’t thinking about the baby when she was getting into her bullshit,” Val snapped.

  “Shut up,” Digger told Val. “Kendall did a lot, but this not the time to remember that. This the time to stick together.”

  Mortician and Digger always had a soft spot for Kendall. Cash wondered how they’d defend her if they suspected what he did.

  “You all have every right to be angry with my wife,” Johnnie said, not sounding himself at all.

  His sadness came through. Just as Cash had spirited Kendall away on behalf of Johnnie, he empathized with the man, too.

  “Kendall’s done a lot,” Johnnie continued. “My love for her makes me able to forgive her. That doesn’t mean any of you have to.”

  Aww, fuck. Poor John Boy.

  Val gnashed his teeth together. “It takes a lot to get my woman to cry, Johnnie. She cried all fucking night because of your bitch and what Kendall revealed about Fee. Fee cried all night. They were wrecks because Kendall couldn’t keep her fucking mouth shut.”

  “Go to your bitch,” Outlaw directed.

  Stiffening, Johnnie stared coldly at Outlaw. “I need to see my kids first. If it wasn’t for you, Kendall would be here with me.”

  “Fuck you. Check your fuckin’ attitude before I pluck your fuckin’ eyes out, motherfucker. That cunt exiled cuz of her own fucked up behavior. You love her? Fuckin’ wonderful. I ain’t gonna fuck her up, but she ain’t welcomed here. Every-fuckin-time she get fuckin’ pissed, she gonna threaten to clue Megan the fuck in about shit I ain’t wantin’ her to know.”

  “Christopher, she needs me. She needs us,” Johnnie argued, his look and tone more reasonable.

  “I give a fuck how?” Outlaw said, lifting his brow before he sighed with irritation. “If you had a fuckin’ way to stop her from tryin’ to fuck with Megan, I’d tell you to bring her the fuck back. You could take care of her here. But she made her fuckin’ bed, now she gotta fuckin’ lay all the fuck alone in it.”

  “She sounds devastated, but she also sounds finished,” Johnnie admitted bleakly. “This just might end my marriage.”

  Cash drained his beer, watching Outlaw stalk to the hallway without commenting, and disappear in the direction of his office.

  Christopher sat behind his desk, drinking tequila and thinking of Johnnie’s devastation. He hadn’t seen Kendall around in days, so he knew she’d been put somewhere out of his reach. The aggravating cunt wouldn’t have had the sense to stay away, until Christopher cooled off. Until he backed off.

  Now, she’d lost her fucking kid and Johnnie wanted her near, something Christopher understood. In a similar circumstance, he’d want to be with Megan.

  But Kendall wasn’t Megan. Psycho bitch forever put him in a fucked up position. She’d destroyed his trust in Fee. Her conduct kept Johnnie unhappy.

  Jesus, Mary, and all that was holy, why didn’t that bitch behave?

  A light knock came on his door. At first, he thought he’d imagined it, then it came again.

  “Come in,” he called, frowning as Cash stepped just inside the room, looking as if he preferred to be anywhere else.

  Motherfucker knew he was owed a dick stomp for fucking with Fee after Christopher told him to stay the fuck away.

  “What?” he barked.

  No response.

  Christopher had fuck all to say to Cash. Not only because of Fee, but because he was also the motherfucker who’d probably helped Johnnie put Kendall out of Christopher’s reach. It hadn’t escaped his notice how fucking buddy-buddy Johnnie and Cash had suddenly become.

  “John Boy loves his old lady,” he started as if Christopher was a stupid motherfucker and needed that pointed out.

  He’d never considered how deep that love went. Yeah, the motherfucker had gone off the deep end when she fucking left. At the time, Christopher thought a fuckload of hurt fucking pride had been mixed up with a sense of loss and betrayal. “So?”

  “If you had a way for Kendall to come back, would you allow it?”

  For Johnnie, yes. “I fuckin’ don’t got a way, so get the fuck outta my face.”

  “Suppose you did?” Cash persisted. “Suppose you had some information to keep her in line? If she opens her mouth to Meggie, you’d go to Johnnie.”

  Suddenly, he remembered coming upon Slipper and Kendall with Cash. Kendall wouldn’t have stopped to talk to either of those motherfuckers, unless she had a specific request. She hated Slipper, so she’d ask nothing of him. But Cash?

  “You the assfuck with the ability to get that bitch away. You also the assfuck with hookups to all types of pills and shit. Pills to destroy babies, for fucking instance.”

  Cash choked, all the confirmation Christopher needed. With a roar of rage, he bounded from the chair and punched Cash, sending the man reeling. “You stupid motherfucker,” he snarled, pulling his nine.

  “Wait, Outlaw!” Cash cried, holding up his hands. “I didn’t get her abortion pills.”

  “Then what the fuck else you got on her? Why the fuck you comin’ in here with that fuckin’ offer the day she lose Johnnie kid?” The day she supposedly lost it. Fucking bitch.

  “I wouldn’t do that to Johnnie.”

  Enraged at the memory of his brother’s heartache, Christopher shoved the gun against Cash’s temple. “Then why the fuck she was talkin’ to you the day after Fee stabbin’?”

  “She wanted me to get pills but I refused.”

  “Then how the fuck she lost her baby now?” he asked, his hand trembling. “Shit too convenient.”

  “I don’t know,” Cash swore. “Yes, I got her away, until you calmed down but I declined her request.”

  Knowing Cash to be honest about almost everything, Christopher snatched his nine away, and Cash sagged. Besides, if Kendall had gotten abortion pills, there was another explanation.

  “Kendall had access to a lotta our shit at the law firm.”

  “How the fuck would she know who to call? It isn’t like I had the motherfuckers marked Pill Supplier, RDX Contact, Gun Buyer, or none of that shit.”

  “Kendall a sneaky bitch. She got fuckin’ ways.” That bitch had a fucking Plan A, B, C, D, and E, for every fucking thing she did. “Call the fuck around and report back to me. Lemme think this fuckin’ shit through. If she did get rid of John Boy baby, you right. I got something to hang the fuck over her head so she never fuck with Megan again. If she lost the kid, then I guess that bitch never comin’ back. I ain’t livin’ the rest of my fuckin’ life waitin’ for her to open her fuckin’ trap.”

  If he’d ever had a small inkling of doubt before of what losing Kendall would do to Johnnie, his reaction today removed it all from Christopher’s head. He fucking hoped they finally had something to keep Johnnie’s bitch in line or they’d be at an impasse forever.

  Fee studied herself in the bathroom mirror, inventorying the scars marring her skin, the most prominent being the one on her neck. She’d be lying if she told herself the marks didn’t bother her, but she’d be a hypocrite if she gave in to depression after she’d always encouraged Stretch to overlook his scars.

  The raised skin on his beautiful face was the only visible sign of his injuries. Until he began to walk, no one knew about his damaged leg, as long as he kept it covered, which he did. But she had reminders on her arms, legs, and thighs, even one or two on her hands where she’d attempted to shield herself from Noah.

  Shivering, she glanced at the bathroom door, home, for the first time in weeks, as of an hour ago. Three days ago, she’d decided to return to her own apartment. At first, Fee had been happy to be home. Unlike at Christopher and Meggie’s house, where she shared a floor with only Bunny and Diesel, at Zoann’s place it was different. All the bedrooms were feet away from each other. If she cried and someone happened to be passing, they’d overhear her. So she’d left, needing solace and solitude. Despite her want of consolation over her brother’s continued shut-out, she wouldn’t invite her guys over tonight.

  She
needed to think.

  Ten days had passed since she and Zoann had made up and Meggie had paid her the first of many visits. She and Zoann were showing Fee the ropes of their business, offering her a job as their office assistant. That would mean working out of Christopher’s house with Meggie, so for the time being, Fee satisfied herself with the impromptu training.

  But she still hadn’t she spoken to Christopher yet. Nor had she seen Kendall since that devastating night. Several times, Fee had called her cellphone, but Kendall never answered or responded to Fee’s texts. She’d dropped her bombshell then left Fee to suffer the consequences.

  A sound reached her and she gripped the counter. She lived on the third floor, so it could be anything, but whatever it was seemed quite close. Swallowing, she grabbed her towel and wrapped it around herself.

  Another bump. “Hello?” she cried, staring at the door, waiting for it to burst open.

  Shoot! Her phone was on her nightstand.

  “Hello?” she called again.

  Silence, the deafening, dreaded kind where the monster always frightened the hell out of everyone in horror movies. The hairs on Fee’s nape stood on end and her skin crawled.

  “Anybody there?”

  Nothing. No answer. No other noises. Just that awful, eerie quiet.

  Was someone waiting for her just beyond the door? She wasn’t sure if she should leave the safety of the bathroom or not. Someone had to be out there as watched as she felt.

  She had no windows to climb out of. No way to escape. If a killer, a Torp—Noah—was there, she was trapped.

  A tremble assailed her.

  Was that breathing she heard?

  No, absolutely not. Her imagination was running wild. Who heard breathing? No one. But everyone could feel a presence, that force of energy with another body nearby.

  “Hello?” she croaked out, forcing a sob down. She’d cried so many tears. The well should be dried up.

  The wetness streaming down her cheeks made her feel like a sniveling coward. She wasn’t! She was Christopher and Zoann’s sister. They’d both looked fear in the eye and survived. She could do the same. She would do the same.