What the fuck going on?
Growling in frustration, Christopher closed the folder containing the records and grabbed another file. When he opened it, a photograph of the bracelet he wanted for Megan greeted him. Halloween was in a week. It would be fifty-six days until Christmas. That meant, he needed roughly fifty-one hundred dollars a day…more than that because he’d need to purchase the bracelet before Christmas day. And he had to come up with money for toys for his children…Fuck. He was going to have to talk to Megan. Tell her this Christmas a recession had hit them. She couldn’t spend the money she usually did.
Megan would understand. He knew that. He was the motherfucker not understanding.
“Outlaw, you have a minute?” Roxy asked, coming into his office without knocking since his door was opened.
“Yeah,” he said, forcing his mind to divide attention. “What the fuck you need?”
“I’m writing recipes out for Kendall. Do you think Meggie would like a copy?”
Maybe, he’d have to get Megan the bracelet for Valentine’s Day. “Why the fuck you askin’ my ass? Ask Megan.” February might be better, anyway, since it would also mark the anniversary of their church wedding.
“I want to do them up really pretty,” Roxy said. “Personalize them. Add different photos for Meggie and Kendall. I’m doing one for Bailey, too. They’ll all have the same recipes and motherly advice, just different photos to fit each girl.”
For their next anniversary, he wanted to get Megan an SUV. Her Mini Cooper was okay and he knew she loved it, but with all their little motherfuckers, it made it hard to travel. If they were all going somewhere at once, Christopher generally borrowed Johnnie’s Navigator. “I like that idea, Roxanne. I guess you comin’ to me cuz you wanna surprise Megan and need photos from me?”
“Yeah, sugar.” Roxy sighed. “What has you so distracted. You’re listening to me but your mind is somewhere else.”
Tired, Christopher rubbed his eyes, then held up the photo of the bracelet. “I wanna get this for Megan Christmas present.” He shook his head, unable to believe his next words. “I just ain’t got the bills for it. I ain’t understandin’ what the fuck goin’ on, babe. Either a motherfucker stealin’, I ain’t countin’ right, or we livin’ way the fuck above our fuckin’ means.”
Roxanne set the picture on the desk. “You have less jobs or something?”
“Fuck no. We streamlined shit and actually got more shit we doin’. More distribution. More runs. Bigger hydrogrow operation. We even ain’t payin’ Brooks what we once did. Still we seem to be bleedin’ money.”
“Just tell your wife. She’ll understand and find something cheaper.”
“She don’t fuckin’ know,” Christopher snapped. “This my big surprise for her. The motherfucker one-of-a-kind.”
She gave him an under-eyed look before annoyance dropped into her face. “You’re out of your ever-loving mind, boy? That little girl won’t give a fuck about some expensive ass bracelet. Meggie isn’t like that. What the fuck’s gotten into you?”
He scowled at her. “I want the motherfucker for Megan, Roxanne. Case fuckin’ closed.”
“How much do you have?” she huffed out.
“Only about half,” he told her, and heaved another sigh. She was right, though. He must’ve lost his fucking mind. Megan didn’t need a fucking expensive bracelet. He was the motherfucker feeling guilty for all the shit. He was the motherfucker para-fucking-noid that shit would go south and fuck up the holidays. A-fucking-gain.
“Christopher,” Johnnie said, walking into the office and halting when he saw Roxy sitting in one of the chairs.
“What up, John Boy?”
“I wanted to talk to you about Knox,” Johnnie announced.
Roxanne’s look sharpened, raising Christopher’s suspicions that she’d started to feel something for that motherfucker. “What about him?”
“Found new information from any of the avenues you’re following?”
Leaning back in his chair, Christopher lit a cigarette, took a drag, and then released the smoke. “Just followin’ one right now.” He nodded to Roxanne. “The one she on.”
“I still think it’s a waste of time.”
“Yeah, because the motherfucker college-educated like you and your bitch,” Christopher snapped, drawing on his cigarette again. Smoke poured through his nostrils. “You fuckin’ profilin’ him, assfuck. If Knox walked in this motherfucker, talkin’ like me with a ninth-grade education, your motherfuckin’ ass would think like me.”
“That isn’t true,” Johnnie declared. “Besides, you can’t profile someone like Knox. He’s straight-laced and upstanding.”
Roxanne snorted and Christopher continued to smoke to contain his anger. No matter how much he loved the motherfucker, John Boy could be the most snobbish motherfucker alive.
He was so sick of fucking Knox and playing the game with him. After the incident in the parking lot two days ago, Christopher thought he’d be called in by the badges, courtesy of Knox. When he wasn’t, he thought that maybe…just fucking maybe…Knox would rethink whatever the fuck he was doing. Christopher had saved the motherfucker’s life.
Instead, Knox had returned this morning. Although he’d left soon after when Brooks did, Christopher knew Knox still engaged in their silent battle.
What-the-fuck ever.
By Halloween, Knox needed to die. Christopher had already broken his word to Megan that they’d start with no bloodshed earlier this year. That meant, he either had to fuck up Knox by 12:01AM on October 31st or let the motherfucker live until January 2nd. Of course, Roxanne was looking forward to the party and it would ruin her night if Christopher killed the motherfucker beforehand.
Maybe, he’d have to fuck him up after the party. He’d already be on premises. They’d have to intercept that fucking wire before they got him to the meatshack.
Fuck! He’d asked for Roxy’s help just to discover who the motherfucker worked for. If Knox was fucked up, whatever agency that sent him in the first place would either move in sooner or send another motherfucker.
“If there’s profiling going on, you’re doing it to him,” Johnnie continued. “You don’t like him because of the way he acts and dresses.”
“That ain’t the fuckin’ reason, fuckhead, and you fuckin’ know that. The motherfucker was askin’ fuckin’ questions almost from the fuckin’ day he arrived. He was all in Megan and Kendall faces, when he fuckin’ know they belong to me and you. Two fuckin’ weeks after Brooks started askin’ for a fuckin’ assistant, this motherfucker show up with perfect fuckin’ credentials. For that fuckin’ matter, it seem mighty fuckin’ strange Brooks suddenly fuckin’ need a fuckin’ assistant in the first fuckin’ place. I don’t give a motherfuck what the fuck you think, motherfucker. My job protectin’ this fuckin’ club. Knox a goddamn threat to me, you, and every motherfucker in this motherfucker.”
“If that’s the case, why didn’t you bring it to the membership? Why didn’t you put it up to vote? You’re using club resources…”
“Johnnie, baby, what’s wrong with you?” Roxy started as Christopher finished his cigarette. “Outlaw has never steered the club wrong. Furthermore, he’s one of the fairest men I know. He wouldn’t go after Knox simply because he’s a preppy motherfucker like you. And,” she continued, ignoring Johnnie’s murderous glare, “take a hint from your ass. Knox certainly can be all the things you says he is and still be a no-good, lying, dirty, underhanded, dog motherfucker. Aren’t you a killer at heart with the looks of an angel?”
“This is club business,” Johnnie snapped. “Just because Kendall allows you to rule her, doesn’t mean you can do the same to me.”
“Maybe, if you took a cue from me, you’d have a better relationship with your wife, motherfucker,” she spat, although Christopher saw the hurt in her eyes.
“Roxanne, babe, leave us the fuck alone. Lemme talk to this brain-dead, whinin’ assfuck.”
She nodded, lifted her chin
, and headed toward the hallway.
“Hey, babe,” Christopher called. “I fuckin’ appreciate all the fuck you do. Hear me? And that recipe book thing a good fuckin’ idea. Lemme know when I need to getcha the fuckin’ photos.”
She forced a smile. “All right, sugar.”
“Close the door on the way out,” he instructed.
The moment the door closed, Christopher pointed to the chair. “Sit the fuck down, motherfucker.”
“I have things to do.”
“I ain’t askin’,” Christopher snarled. “I’m fuckin’ tellin’ your motherfuckin’ ass.”
Johnnie stalked to a chair. “I’m sitting, fucker. Now what?”
“I ain’t botherin’ to fuck you up over Roxanne cuz I gotta store up your ass-beatins for Megan. I’ma fill Mort in on how you treatin’ his ma-in-law, if you don’t lay the fuck off her.”
“Between Roxy and Charlotte, I can’t have Kendall to myself. She won’t listen to me, for listening to them. Just because I asked Roxanne to confront Charlotte for me doesn’t give her the right to fill Kendall’s head with bullshit. My wife’s talking about leaving me. She said she doesn’t know if she has a place here. If Kendall and I separate, I want it to be because of us, not because of advice from a woman who can’t keep her own man.”
“You got one more fuckin fucked-up word to say about Roxanne, and I’m changin’ my mind. I’ma fuck you up my-fuckin-self.”
Johnnie glowered at him. At least, now, Christopher understood why Johnnie wasn’t picking up on the danger Knox presented. He was a fucking snob, but he was also fucking blinded by his bitch.
“Johnnie, my ass never thought I’d fuckin’ defend Kendall. Ain’t gonna happen on the regular. But listen the fuck up. You got that bitch looped the fuck outta her head. She was already a psycho cunt. You just finished the fuckin’ job. Now, not only ain’tcha got fuckin’ balls no more, you ain’t got no fuckin’ instincts. All your fuckin’ focus on Kendall. If you’d just back the fuck off and let that bitch figure shit out, she might do what the fuck she gotta. But all your self-esteem gone. You had a bitch marry another motherfucker right fuckin’ under you. Megan ain’t wanted you when all was said and fuckin’ done. Not only did Kendall walk the fuck away from your fucked-up surprise wedding, but she turned you the fuck down two or three time before that. You gotta be askin’ what the fuck wrong with my dick if all these bitches keep leavin’ my ass.”
“Fuck off.”
Christopher shrugged. “I’m fuckin’ beginnin’ to think, it aintcha bitch so much as it is your motherfuckin’ ass. But what you not gonna do is take out your fuckin’ misery on Roxanne. You not gonna pit your bitch against Megan. All that make Kendall do is act the fuck out more.” He leaned forward. “I can’t stand that cunt but I love you, so for your sake, I’ma put up with her bullshit. My ass thinkin’ either both you motherfuckers need psycho drugs or the wrong motherfucker takin’ the shit. You turned that bitch into a fuckin’ terror. Know why? Cuz, you stupid motherfucker, con-fuckin-ceded to every fuckin’ demand she ever made. The first time she told you to play fuckin’ opera, you shoulda told her to go fuck herself in the middle of the forest. Opera, Johnnie. Fuckin’ opera.” The thought still outraged Christopher. “The more you gave Kendall her fuckin’ way, the more that bitch took advantage. Now, you walkin’ around this motherfucker like a bitch-ass cunt cuz no-fuckin-body trust that bitch, when it’s your motherfuckin’ fault.”
Instead of coming at Christopher with hostility or anger, Johnnie’s shoulders slumped and his face reddened. A sheen of moisture glimmered from his eyes.
“I swear to fuckin’ Christ, Johnnie, if you start fuckin’ cryin’ in this motherfucker, I’ma shoot the fuck outta you.”
Johnnie scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “I love Kendall so much. I want her happy. I want to protect her. My gorgeous woman has been through so much.”
Christopher ran out of words to say. He wasn’t getting through to the motherfucker. “Ask Kendall to stay ‘til after the holidays,” he suggested. “Then find a fuckin’ way to convince her you ain’t wantin’ her gone.” He didn’t think she would leave since she really had nowhere to go, but, he had to admit that bitch always did what the fuck she shouldn’t. However, if Johnnie didn’t push Kendall to some rash, fucked-up decision, Christopher was almost certain Roxy would straighten her out.
“You owe Roxanne an apology.”
“I know,” Johnnie said quietly.
“I know you ain’t agreein’ with how I feel about Knox. It ain’t up to you, Johnnie. Until my ass proven right or wrong, let’s not bring that motherfucker up a-fuckin-gain. But I need you to do something else for me.”
“What?”
“I know you gonna audit the offshore accounts in January, like you always do. Can you fuckin’ start next week? Compare all the deposits, withdrawals, and interest earned.”
Johnnie tipped his head to the ceiling. “You still think money’s missing? I told you everything’s checked out.”
He had, but Christopher just felt something was off. “Then give me the motherfuckin’ records, I’ll do the fuckin’ audit myself.”
“Are you sure that won’t interfere with Megan’s holidays?”
Christopher growled at Johnnie’s sarcasm. “I said no fuckin’ up motherfuckers doin’ the holidays. All other work gotta be done.”
“Fuck, fine. I’ll do the goddamn audit, but if I find everything checks out, it’ll prove there’s nothing wrong with my instincts. We’ll see that it’s yours and know that Megan and her holidays have affected your judgment.”
“Fine, motherfucker. I’m so fuckin’ sure that ain’t the case, if I’m fuckin’ wrong, I’ma give up my fuckin’ investigation of Knox.”
For the first time since he’d entered, Johnnie’s face brightened. “It’s a deal.”
Chapter Fifteen
Three days later, Knox sat in Brooks’ office, reading through a precedent on a criminal case involving money laundering and embezzlement. He wasn’t sure why the attorney wanted this researched, but Knox bet it had something to do with the MC. He just needed to get that admission on tape. However, that would implicate Brooks, too, in his investigation, but Uncle Avalon had already decided he’d have his friend claim temporary insanity due to stress, duress, and forced labor.
Since the meeting with Cam, Uncle Avalon, and Charlotte, Knox had redoubled his efforts to bring the club down. Roxy had call and checked on him, thanking him for his help with the doctor. She hadn’t mentioned Outlaw, and neither had he. He was sure her friend had explained everything.
Last night, Uncle Avalon called again, further turning Knox against Outlaw. The widow’s house of the partner who’d committed suicide was being foreclosed on.
Noises travelled through the open door of the office. The women were decorating the clubhouse for the Halloween party and the kids were running wild and free, back and forth, in front of the door, screaming like banshees, while the women’s laughter and conversation, their constant movement, served as a huge distraction.
No, not theirs. Hers. Roxy. They’d all greeted Brooks and nodded to him. Roxy said ‘hi’ to Brooks and glared at him. It was the first time he’d seen her since the restaurant. He’d thought she would’ve been eager to see him, given his heroics. By now, he’d expected her to drop in and re-extend her invitation to the Halloween party. Based on her attitude, Knox was sure that wouldn’t happen.
“Brooks?”
“Yes?” the attorney responded in a distracted manner as he went through a file.
Knox doubted the man had noticed Knox’s battered face. If he had, he hadn’t mentioned it. Now that it didn’t hurt to walk and his bruises were lightening, Knox decided the attorney didn’t care to know.
That was no longer important. He had other goals to accomplish.
Should Knox start with business or pleasure first? He sighed. Business, definitely. Being Roxy’s date was also classified as business, he reminded himself. “Has
the club been accused of embezzlement and money laundering?”
Looking up, Brooks frowned.
Knox held up the document he was reading.
“I need to advise them on what not to do so charges won’t be brought against them,” Brooks explained.
Knox straightened, not sure he’d heard right. After almost four weeks, was he finally making headway?
“So they are into illegal activities?” he pressed.
Brooks hesitated and glanced toward the open door. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” Knox said sharply. “Don’t you think I have a right to know? If you’re knowingly assisting them to commit a crime, that’s on you. You were given the option. I deserve that same courtesy.”
Shoulders slumping, Brooks set the folder down and rested his elbows on the desk. Knox’s lead-in allowed Brooks to spill all the beans. Explain how he was being forced. Admit to the criminality. Implicate Outlaw.
“The less you know, the better,” Brooks said after a moment.
“That doesn’t sound good.” Knox knew he needed to push the other man to get anywhere with him, so he stood. “I’m not sure I want to continue my employment without full disclosure from you. How am I supposed to protect myself if I don’t know what’s going on?”
“Okay, pipe down,” Brooks admonished in low tones. Loosening his tie, he glanced toward the doorway. “What do you want to know?”
Turning away so he wouldn’t give away his triumph, Knox shrugged, sidling a glance to where the clock had been. He regretted its absence. “Whatever you’re willing to tell me. Just give me enough information where I’ll protect myself.”
“What can I say? The simplest way to protect yourself is to not cross Outlaw.”
Knox turned. “What happens if I cross him? More to the point, how will I know if I do so?”
“You work for me, so you’re on the club’s payroll,” Brooks explained, “since I’m on their payroll. Doing anything that doesn’t benefit them crosses Outlaw. There can be no divided loyalties. Nothing. Your allegiance and devotion must be to the Death Dwellers.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 385