Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “I want a steak,” she said.

  Leaving the parking lot, Knox nodded to the man on gate duty then swerved onto the street, shifting gears and pressing on the gas. “I’ve chosen an Italian restaurant for us.”

  “Don’t give a fuck if you chose a restaurant in the fucking rain forest. I want a goddamn steak.”

  “It’s an exclusive little place in Portland.” The restaurant he intended to take her to also served steaks, but he wanted it for its obscurity. Or, he could always take her to J’s. He was pretty proud of his mother’s restaurant. More importantly, neither his mom or his dad would be there tonight. No, he’d go with his original plans. “I thought someone like you would enjoy the very private, very select place.”

  Knox groaned. The moment the words left his mouth, he realized how they sounded, so her blaring, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” didn’t really surprise him. The woman was a firecracker.

  “I just meant you need connections to get into the place.”

  “So you meant I’m just a regular bitch when you said someone like me?”

  “Would you please stop referring to yourself as a bitch? You’re too gorgeous to have such a filthy mouth.”

  “Let’s set some fucking ground rules in this motherfucker. If my ass want to say bitch, ho, motherfucker, fuck you, fuck off, shut the fuck up, every other goddamn word, it’s my fucking mouth. You don’t control what the fuck I say. When the fuck I say it. Or why the fuck I say shit.”

  “No wonder you’ve been single for so long.” His words seemed to hit a nerve and she bristled, so he seized the opportunity to continue. “You have a chip on your shoulder that you dare anyone to remove.”

  “No, motherfucker. I don’t have time for bullshit and you’re reeking of it.”

  “You sought me out. Remember? If I’m so full of bullshit, you would’ve left me alone.”

  She pursed her mouth, but fell silent. That only gave Knox the chance to breathe in the scent of her perfume and make him hyper-aware of her presence.

  “What do you know about me and how do you know it?” she asked as he crossed the bridge into Portland.

  The question caught him off-guard. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what the fuck I asked. How the hell do you know I’ve been single for a while?”

  Shit. He had said that, hadn’t he? It didn’t matter. He’d been the president of the debate team in college and a cop who moved up the ranks until his father gave Knox the funds to open his PI firm.

  “I made a wild guess based on your attitude. Men don’t like prickly girls who have their hackles raised easily. Besides, you’re living with your daughter and her husband. That says it all.”

  “Yeah, that you’re a narrow-minded motherfucker who wouldn’t know his dick from his ass if a drawing was in front of him.”

  “Excuse me?” He couldn’t believe she had the audacity to say that to him.

  “You heard me. I’m here because my Bailey want me here. I have a life in New Orleans. A mama, three other children, and a bunch of friends. I’m here because Kendall needs me to be here for her so I can set her and her dumb ass man on the right path. I’m here because I fucking want to be so unless you know what the fuck you talking about, shut the fuck up.”

  He hadn’t known why she was in Hortensia, only that she was. Before the evening went any more downhill, he needed to change tactics.

  “Tell me a little about yourself,” he said in amiable tones. He’d have to halfway pay attention to pretend interest. “You have four children and you’re divorced from their father,” he started. He was interested to see how she’d pretty up her sordid life story.

  “I’ve had three husbands and four baby daddies. Next.”

  Okay, then. Right. She didn’t pull any punches. No coy words that covered up her past or her age or the fact that she wanted a steak and not a place he’d chosen. Nothing to throw her off-balance like she was doing him with her bluntness. He had to reclaim the upperhand.

  Remembering the way she’d responded when Mortician brought up her illness, Knox wondered if he should stoop that low. But he needed her to be enamored of him and willing to do what he wanted.

  He’d try to charm her first. “You’ve kept yourself up really well to be over forty and the mother of four children.”

  She lifted a brow at him and he flushed, feeling like a dickhead at how rude that came out.

  “Er, how old are your kids?”

  “My oldest, Bailey, will be twenty-five in a few months. Then, I have a twenty-one-year-old, a nineteen-year-old and a seventeen-year old. My son is the youngest.” Her voice caught at the last bit.

  Knox honed in on that. “He’s a mama’s boy?” he asked, sidling a glance at her.

  “He stopped talking to me…” Her words trailed off.

  He stole a peek in her direction. Though dark, the street lights afforded him a glimpse of the back of her head.

  She sighed and twisted her hands in her lap, the first time he’d ever seen her nervous. “What the fuck am I doing?” she mumbled, talking to herself.

  “Going out with me,” Knox reminded her. He also wanted her to know that he’d heard her self-directed question.

  “I am, aren’t I?” She touched her hair, then let her hand fall back into her lap.

  It was so hard for Knox to stay focused on driving, but he knew he must to keep them safe. If he was stopped, his cover might very well get blown. Many on the force still knew him as a former police officer.

  “You have a beautiful head of hair.” He was as curious to know how she’d grown her hair so quickly as he was to see how her breasts looked.

  “I had cancer, Knox.”

  The soft words shocked him into silence. It wasn’t the honesty as much as it was the vulnerability.

  “What you see might not be what you’re getting.”

  “What I’m getting is perfect,” he said, without thinking. The words just fell from his mouth, and their honesty shocked him. He wasn’t telling her that only to make her feel better. In so many ways, she was unlike any woman he’d ever slept with or dated.

  “Jesus, but you’re a smooth talker. You know just what to say. You must have women falling at your feet.”

  “I do,” he admitted, seeing no reason to lie. “Didn’t you?”

  “Boy, go and sit down somewhere,” she said with a laugh.

  “Roxy, you’re attracted to me and I’m attracted to you. Is that so bad? Most people go out on dates because there’s some type of spark there. Some interest.”

  “Or plain lust.”

  “I wouldn’t spend money on you if it was mere lust,” he lied. Normally, he wouldn’t. This was slightly different, though. “Why go through a song-and-dance if the sexual attraction is already there? We’d just act on it. We’re adults. We don’t have to pretend to want to get to know each other, if we just want to have sex.”

  “You want to get to know me?”

  He couldn’t detect her tone, whether it was disbelief, interest, or relief. “Of course,” he bullshitted. At least, he wanted it to be bullshitting. “I’m about to buy you a very expensive meal.”

  “Not necessarily,” she returned. “I have my own money. I can pay for my food my damn self.”

  “Oooo, so, so prickly,” he teased.

  She sniffed. “Motherfuckers trip all the time. Just because you’re paying out, don’t mean I’m putting out.”

  He’d see about that. Once she relaxed with a few glasses of wine, he’d invite her back to his place. He’d have to excuse himself to remove the wire. To make things simple for her, he’d keep his shirt off so she’d feast her eyes on his magnificent body.

  For the time being, he’d allow her to believe her will was stronger than his sex appeal. Besides, he wanted her to finish telling her story.

  “Before you told me about the cancer, you’d began to discuss your son. As a matter of fact, mention of him brought about what you shared with me.”

 
; More silence and another sigh. He stole another glance and discovered she was once again looking out the window.

  “When I was diagnosed,” she whispered on a swallow, “he stopped talking to me. Well, not at first. He had more than enough to say then. He didn’t want to have to look at a cancerous old bag of bones bringing everybody down because she was dying.” She tucked her chin down and cleared her throat.

  Knox winced at the hurt he detected. Knowing she’d been sick and hearing about it in her words were completely different. It made it personal and intimate.

  “He went to his father,” she continued. “After I thought long and hard about it, I figured he was right, so I left, too. I didn’t want to worry my momma or my daughters. One day the boy will realize I’m still living and respond to my messages.”

  She tried to make the last statement light and breezy, but her pain came through and Knox hated to hear it.

  “It’s all good,” she said in a stronger voice. “Don’t tell a motherfucker or his mama that. Nobody knows Duke was one of the reasons I left. Maybe, the main reason. I’m not sure. I don’t want his sisters to give him a hard time. He’s a kid.”

  “You’re making excuses for him. He’s young, but he’s old enough to know what he said was a disrespectful crock of shit.”

  “Maybe, but he’s my son, so keep your goddamn opinions to yourself about him.”

  Turning into J’s parking lot, Knox killed the engine, then turned to her. The surrounding darkness threw her face into shadow. He flipped on the light.

  “That’s better,” he said, meaning it. “There’s that pretty face.”

  For a moment, she smiled, her eyes softening at his words, but her scowl returned. Knox sighed, wondering if he’d made any progress with her and denying his admiration for her was nothing more than he’d feel for anyone who’d survived all she had.

  “Look at me, Daddy,” Rebel demanded. Seeing she had Christopher’s attention, she jumped as high as she possibly could, competing with CJ. “Now, you do it, Rule.”

  Rule wasn’t having any of it. He sat on the floor with Ryder, crawling around with him.

  “Him a baby, Elle,” CJ accused, pointing at Rule. “Him can’t jump high.”

  “I showed him!” Rebel said. “He knows.”

  “Good night, Outlaw,” Gypsy called from the doorway, offering him a little wave. “Meggie’s in the kitchen, talking to Bunny. She’ll be here.”

  “Yeah, babe. That’s fuckin’ fine. See you tomorrow.”

  “No!” CJ whined. “Want Bun-Bun. Not her.”

  Christopher sighed at the way Gypsy’s face fell. “It’s okay, boy,” he said gruffly. “Gypsy a good bitch. She just fillin’ in ‘til Bunny have her kid.”

  Tears filled CJ’s eyes. “Don’t want Bun-Bun kid! Bun-Bun mine. MegAnn mine.”

  He supposed his boy was feeling a little fucking threatened. Not only was his ma having another kid but the chick who’d kept him safe when they were kidnapped, the one he was used to seeing helping his ma, was also knocked up. Poor little motherfucker.

  CJ ran to Christopher and crawled into his lap, sniffling.

  Gypsy started forward, then halted. “CJ, I can bring you candy tomorrow. If you behave, I’ll let you have it.”

  “No!”

  “Hush, boy,” Christopher ordered. “Don’t disrespect no grown women. Respect bitches. Understand?” He looked at Gypsy. “Babe, my boy’ll run the fuck over you if you let his little ass. I ain’t expectin’ you to put your hands on him. I ain’t gonna be too happy if that shit happen. But you just gotta take charge with him. Tell him what the fuck he gotta do and that’s it.”

  “’Law mean,” CJ cried.

  “Hey, bud,” Bunny interrupted. “Why the tears?”

  Instead of answering, he turned his face into Christopher’s chest. Although Megan was usually the one to comfort CJ, Christopher couldn’t resist wrapping his arms around his distraught son.

  “Guess what, CJ?” Bunny called. “Tomorrow, you and I are going to the club to help Mommie cook breakfast. Gypsy will be here with the other kids. But you have to promise us, you’ll listen to what Gypsy says.”

  Before CJ answered, Megan led Johnnie into the house. Christopher hadn’t even heard the doorbell.

  “CJ, potato, walk with me to the door to let out Bunny and Gypsy,” Megan said.

  “No!”

  She sighed.

  “I gotta idea,” Christopher told her, looking at her. “Let my boy stay with me while I talk to John Boy—” Hear what the fuck he was doing at Christopher’s house, instead of his own— “You take the rest of the kids with you, Megan, and get them ready for bed. When you done, if I ain’t finished and upstairs already, take CJ.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  “What the fuck you doin’ here?” Christopher asked the moment the rest of them left him alone with Johnnie and CJ.

  Johnnie shrugged. The eye Christopher had punched was swollen and bruised. Thinking about earlier, he realized Kendall must be pissed with Johnnie, so he didn’t know what the fuck to do with himself.

  Christopher’s phone beeped. Adjusting CJ, who was now quiet and half-asleep, he got his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. It was an alert for Roxy’s location. Mortician had slipped a small bug in the lining of her wallet at some point today.

  “Roxy at J’s.”

  “At least Knox isn’t scrimping. That’s an expensive restaurant.”

  “Motherfucker from a wealthy fuckin’ family. He shoulda taken her somewhere better than that.”

  “A wealthy family?” Johnnie echoed, going to the bar and finding the bottle of scotch. “Since when?”

  “Since Riley called a little fuckin’ while ago and told my ass,” Christopher answered. “He got a fuckin’ degree in criminology. He a former badge. And get this shit, John Boy. He opened a private investigative firm three fuckin’ months ago. Dumb assfuck, thinkin’ my ass ain’t findin’ that shit out.”

  “That still doesn’t mean he’s here to harm us. You said he is a cop. From what I’m hearing he was a cop.”

  “What the fuck wrong with you, motherfucker? Motherfucker might not be a fuckin’ cop but he sure the fuck ain’t a legal assistant.”

  “If Riley is finally well enough to check him out, why keep Roxy on the job?” Johnnie demanded, tossing back a shot and pouring another one. “Either you do it or she does it.”

  “Riley ain’t up to his normal self yet. He just did a preliminary check, so I’ma let Roxanne finish the job,” Christopher growled. “But the motherfucker bitched me the fuck out. What ain’t you understandin’ about that shit? Besides, since Roxy goin’ with him, I had to know more the fuck about him. I ain’t lettin’ her go with a motherfucker I ain’t knowin’ as much as I can about.”

  “She’s a grown-ass woman. Furthermore, she accepted this fool’s game.”

  “A fool fuckin’ game, huh, Johnnie? When you behind fuckin’ bars cuz your bitch gotcha all fucked up in the head that you can’t fuckin’ see fuckin’ straight, you’ll see what the fuck a fool game I was fuckin’ playin’. That motherfucker here for no fuckin’ good. If your head wasn’t the fuck up Kendall pussy, you’d see that. But she fuckin’ with you, so she fuckin’ with your instinct. That motherfucker here to get fuckin’ information. I ain’t knowin’ why or how or for who. Maybe, it is for some agency. Maybe, for some private client.”

  “Fuck off,” Johnnie ordered, drinking another shot. “I disagree with you paying Riley if Roxy is doing this for free. That’s all I’m saying. Make up your fucking mind.”

  “You so fuckin’ lucky CJ up-fuckin-set about shit. Other-fuckin-wise, I woulda sat his little ass a-fuckin-side and beat the fuck outta you for sayin’ that shit to me.” Besides, this was the room he spent with his family on a nightly basis. If he got into a fight and fucked it up, that wouldn’t be received too fucking well. “Look, motherfucker, it’s just over a fuckin’ week to Halloween. I already fuckin’ promised
Megan we ain’t makin’ motherfuckers bleed as of to-fuckin-day until after the new year. If I can get the fuckin’ proof I need before trick-or-fuckin-treat day, I can fuck him up. It still ain’t the holiday season yet. After, though, Christmas shit all in the stores. Thanksgiving comin’ up…I gotta get all the fuck I fuckin’ can as soon as fuckin’ possible.”

  “You’re rushing shit because you know you’re wrong. Knox has a college-education and his family’s wealthy. Why the fuck would he put himself in such danger with us, if that’s the case? Just because he came on to Megan you want to find something on him that’s not there.”

  “Think what the fuck you wanna,” Christopher gritted out, fed-up with Johnnie’s blind stupidity. “Stop whinin’ to me about it, cuz I ain’t changin’ my fuckin’ mind. Since this club money and I ain’t went to the members to have Riley check him out in the first place, I’ma let Roxanne handle the shit.” For now. “But don’t let that motherfucker be in the clubhouse if Brooks not there. When Brooks go, he fuckin’ go. I already had the brothers pull back on patrollin’ with their sawed-offs. With Stretch bein’ away in New York for a few more weeks, I have Val doin’ a daily fuckin’ sweep of the main room, kitchens, and bathrooms for bugs. The rest of the rooms locked and Knox ain’t got past the first hallway.”

  “You’re wasting good resources on bullshit, but whatever.”

  “And you wastin’ your cock on a dumb bitch, but what-the-fuck-ever, so we fuckin’ even.” Arranging a now-sleeping CJ on his shoulder, Christopher got to his feet. “Get the fuck out. I gotta put my boy to bed and I gotta text Mort Roxy’s location, so he can go and keep fuckin’ watch on her.”

  “I’m already here, Christopher. Why don’t you let me do it? I haven’t been out for a spin in a while. It’ll give me something to do.”

  Jesus, Mary, and all that was holy…Fuck, Johnnie sounded pitiful. Christopher wouldn’t comment any more than he had. The motherfucker had to learn to work things out with his bitch. A good fucking start would be keeping his fucking foot out of his goddamn mouth. But he thought he knew it fucking all. He thought Christopher didn’t know any-fucking-thing.