Megan narrowed her eyes and Christopher lifted his brow in challenge before nodding to Val.
Val’s hand shook as he lifted the small camera and microphone inside of a brooch, then got to his feet. He walked to Megan, then gave her a pleading look.
“Go head, baby,” Christopher said mildly. “Let Val put the shit on you. Make sure the shit working right.”
If looks could fuck him up the ass with a pitchfork, Megan would’ve succeeded. She tensed, threw him the evil eye again, then turned to Val. “Do it,” she said tightly.
Christopher didn’t know if the way her mouth hardly moved was due to anger or nervousness. He stepped closer to Val and Megan and bent his head, pretending to study what Val did, when, in reality, he wanted to see the effect he was having on Val while judging Megan’s reaction.
Val’s hand shook so much, he couldn’t insert the brooch pin into the material without piercing Megan.
“Omigod, this is so ridiculous,” she snapped, placing her hand over Val’s. “I can do it myself.” She sniffed and threw Christopher another I-want-chunks-of-your-body-strewn-across-the-club looks. “Morons,” she mumbled, completing the task quickly. “I’m leaving!”
“Wait, baby. Where my kiss?” Christopher called.
In response, she snatched her jacket and stomped away.
The moment she left, Christopher punched the fuck out of Val. The motherfucker reeled back, then dropped into his seat. Drawing his nine, Christopher shoved it into Val’s ear.
“Fuck, Christopher,” Johnnie said as the noise in the club screeched to a halt. “Don’t do this.”
“He fucked with my girl. Made her fuckin’ scream,” Christopher snarled, anger and hurt and betrayal cutting him deep.
“Prez, think of Chester,” Mortician pleaded.
“You know what the fuck happen, Mortician,” Christopher spat, “so shut the fuck up.”
“Outlaw,” Digger said, for once not eating or cracking a joke. He looked panicked. “Val or Mort wouldn’t betray—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Christopher?” Megan called. He should’ve known she’d come back. “Put the gun down. Please.” She sniffled. “Don’t hurt Val. Why won’t you believe me when I say we argued over dinner that day? Please. Let this go. It’s like you’re looking for a reason to kill him. I thought he was your friend. If he isn’t, he is Zoann’s husband. You’d devastate her.”
“Know why I keep comin’ back to this, Megan?” he snarled. “Cuz you lyin’ to me. I know you is cuz I know you. The way you reacted to Val puttin’ that brooch on you told me you fuckin’ scared of him. You got a reason to be and I know what the fuck it is.”
She came closer to him and put her hand on his arm. “Please,” she whispered.
“Tell me the fuckin’ truth. I’m your fuckin’ man. A motherfucker fuck with you, it’s my fuckin’ job to fuckin’ bury him.”
“I’m askin’ you to spare Val,” she whispered. “Please.”
He cocked the hammer. “Tell me the fuckin’ truth.”
She started to cry.
“One.”
Val trembled.
“Christopher—” she started.
“You ain’t had a normal reaction to him,” he yelled. “I ain’t havin’ you in this motherfucker scared of no-fuckin-body. I love Val like a fuckin’ brother, but you scared of him.”
“I’m not,” she sobbed. “I swear. Please, don’t do this. Please. I’m begging you.”
The hurt in Christopher at the thought of what Val did to his girl watered Christopher’s eyes. He didn’t want to kill Val. They’d been through a lot together and Zoann loved him so much.
“Mortician know what the fuck happen, right, Megan?” Christopher demanded.
“I love you, Christopher,” she said around tears. “Please…you’re not a cold-blooded killer.”
“The fuck I ain’t, especially when it come to you.”
“Christopher…if…” She drew in a sobby breath, then swallowed and lifted her chin. “I tell you what, you big jerk, if you want to bring up old stuff, tell me what you think I’m better off not knowing, and I’ll answer your questions about Val and Mortician.”
He scowled at her. “That ain’t the same thing.”
She growled in frustration. “You want to bring up old stuff? What about this? Unless you’re going to tell me you’ve cheated on me, then the only other thing I shouldn’t know is the fact that I really did kill Traveler. How about we trade secrets?”
Little bitch. His hand shook. “I already fuckin’ told you I killed that motherfucker.”
“Exactly, moron! I already told you Val and I got into an argument, so shut up.”
“FUCK, Megan,” he roared, uncocking the hammer and removing his gun from Val’s ear.
“Val’s one of your best friends. Stop threatening his life because of something you think he did.”
Shoving his gun back into his pocket, he stalked back to his seat and grabbed his half empty bottle of tequila. “I ain’t thinkin’ fuck all. I know. And you know what the fuck I know? I know you went into that motherfucker room and I know Mortician came runnin’ in ten minutes later. I know you stumbled out that fuckin’ room in fuckin’ tears with a torn fuckin’ shirt. Unless you two was fuckin’ fist fightin’ over fuckin’ dinner, the only fuckin’ way your clothes get fucked up is if he tried to force you to fuck him. And if he was fightin’ you, I gotta hack off his hands then fuck him up.”
Not a motherfucker said a thing.
“You was drugged the fuck up. You got your story all mixed the fuck up. You tensed the fuck up the moment motherfuckin’ Val talked to you, so I looked at that fuckin’ camera footage.”
Still silent as a fucking church.
“Know what the fuck I think happen? I think Val was a drugged motherfucker. You went the fuck in that motherfucker and he fuckin’ decided he wanted pussy. You was there, so he tried to fuckin’ force his cock in you. It’s bad e-fuckin-nuff I ain’t fuckin’ blew Johnnie dick off. At fuckin’ least with that motherfucker, you let him get your pussy off.”
“Omigod, jerk!” Megan snarled, taking off her pump and hurling it at his head. His anger made him slow to react, so the shiny motherfucker hit him above his eyes. “I can’t believe you just yelled that for everyone to hear.”
Holding his head, Christopher got to his feet. “Megan—”
She rushed to him and shoved him so hard he missed the chair and fell on his ass. “Fuck off,” she yelled, her face turning as red as her jumpsuit and her eyes…fuck her blue eyes were as black as Satan’s cock.
Christopher swore red ringed her irises, where fire rose up to shoot flames at his ass and incinerate the fuck out of him.
She placed a hand on her belly and, all at once, Christopher reminded himself that she was well and thriving in this pregnancy, but her body was still delicate. That’s why he’d gotten a dick snip. And he’d worked so hard to be good this holiday season, making it blood-less and as stress-free as possible for Megan. Now, he was letting his jealousy get the best of him and it was the impotent kind, directed at Knox, whom he couldn’t kill immediately.
Fuck, she was right. Val was one of his best friends. Even if he’d killed his ass because he was so fucking pissed at Knox’s disrespecting him and inviting Megan to lunch, that motherfucker would’ve still been walking around.
Christopher needed to control his anger in this instance and stop acting like an fucked-up assfuck. What-the-fuck-ever happened between Val and Megan was old fucking news. He needed to let it the fuck go. He needed to stop letting it eat at him and bringing it out when it fucking suited him.
Megan was fucking right. They both had their secrets. If she wasn’t hounding the fuck out of him to tell her his shit, he needed to shut the fuck up about hers. She was his girl and she deserved that respect.
Any-fucking-time he’d kept the fact that Kendall aborted her baby from Megan because he’d promised psycho cunt it would stay between the two of them, h
e could do the same for his woman.
But he loved the fuck out of Megan and, after today’s bullshit, he had to admit that the fucking fact of Knox resembling Johnnie in both looks and demeanor had Christopher off the fucking chain. He knew Megan would never betray him and loved him with everything in her. Yet Knox’s actions sent him into a murderous rage.
He looked up at Megan, intending to apologize.
She swiped at her tears. “I’m going fix my make-up, then I’m leaving. When I get back, Val, Johnnie, and Mortician best be alive and well.”
“What about me, Meggie girl?” Digger called, frowning. “Outlaw might find a reason to fuck me up too. Fuck-up by association.”
She threw the motherfucker the evil eye and he raised his hands, backing the fuck off.
Christopher picked his ass up off the floor, then handed her the shoe she’d thrown at him.
She snatched it from him. “If you even try to get in there for the next month, I’ll punch you,” she told him, not taking her eyes from him as she slipped her pump back on.
With that, she turned on her heel and rushed out.
Christopher noticed the tears sliding down Val’s cheeks. With Megan’s punishment, his ass felt like crying like a bitch, too. Instead, he kicked the chair and sent it flying into the wall, wishing he could kick the fuck out of his own ass for being such a stupid fuckhead.
He looked at Val. “Sorry, motherfucker. That shit sound fuckin’ lame cuz if I woulda shot the fuck outta you, fuckin’ regrets woulda been fuckin’ useless. I just…fuck, Val. I’m sorry. I promise this shit over and done with. What the fuck ever happen between you and Megan that Mort know the fuck about, between you three motherfuckers. Just don’t let it fuckin’ happen a-fuckin-gain. Ever. You look at my wife wrong, I’ma tell Bitsy and let her fuck you up. You touch Megan and I’ma kill you. Case fuckin’ closed.” He cleared his throat, hating his actions. “You ain’t gotta forgive me, brother, but I’m askin’ you to. I was so fuckin’ wrong and I’m so fuckin’ grateful my girl know me well e-fuckin-nuff to come back.”
Val got to his feet and went to Christopher, then held his hand out. “I understand, Outlaw,” he said quietly as Christopher took it and pulled him into a man hug. He stepped back. “I thank you for your apology. I accept it. Always. I was shaking and shit because I know how you get when a motherfucker around Meggie. You wanted me to touch her and I was real close to her tit.”
Christopher nodded as Megan reappeared, all traces of tears gone and her make-up once again flawless. He went to her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.
“My ass so sorry, Megan. I ain’t meant to behave like a stupid fuckhead. Forgive me, baby.”
“Oh, Christopher, you do such stupid things,” she whispered, stepping back and smiling gently. “I know most of it comes from a place of love. Love for me and our kids, and love for the club and your brothers. You have a nasty temper and I know you want to murder Knox with your bare hands, but going after Val was unfair and unworthy of you, him, and your friendship.”
Christopher hung his head.
“Don’t you dare!” Megan demanded. “Don’t you dare berate yourself because you were a moron. We all understand you and adore you. By the way, I’ll always forgive you. I love you.”
“So you gonna let me back in your pussy?”
“It might not be a month, but it certainly won’t be tonight or tomorrow or the next day.”
“Fuck, I deserve that for hollerin’ that shit about John Boy.”
“That was embarrassing, Christopher,” Megan whispered.
Christopher winced and hugged her again. “Yo, John Boy,” he called.
“Yes, Christopher?” Johnnie returned.
“Come punch the fuck outta me for what the fuck I said. I embarrassed my girl and I ain’t ever wantin’ her hurt.”
“You’re insane, Christopher!” Megan screeched, glaring in Johnnie’s direction. “Don’t you dare do as he says, Johnnie!”
“You ain’t got fuck-all to say about the shit, Megan. I deserve a punch,” Christopher said as Johnnie walked up to them.
Megan rolled her eyes and folded her arms. “Idiot.”
“One punch, Johnnie. You give me more than one and I’ma fuck you up.”
Johnnie gave him a hesitant look. The same motherfucker who’d been bragging about the diamonds he bought his bitch now looked afraid. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“I embarrassed my Megan. I ain’t able to whip my own ass.”
Drawing in a deep breath and ignoring Megan’s scowl, Johnnie balled his fist and grazed Christopher’s jaw.
“Happy?” Megan asked.
“Mort!” Christopher called, wondering when Johnnie started hitting like a girl.
“I’m not going to hit you, Prez,” Mortician responded. “You might remember that one day and decide to fuck me up. No fucking thank you.”
“Yeah, Outlaw, you acting kind of psycho right now,” Digger observed, reaching for some peanuts that was in a bowl on their table. “When you come to your senses, we all in fucking trouble.”
“I’m going to be late,” Megan bit out, giving Digger a dirty look. “Can you five please behave and act like grown men?”
Before she reached the door, Christopher caught up to her. “Baby, how the fuck can I make it up to you? This ain’t about your pussy, even though if you unchain it my ass’ll be so fuckin’ happy. This about you. I feel so fuckin’ bad.”
Megan thumbed his lips, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “I might have to rethink no violence for the holidays.” She sighed. “I’m fine. I promise.”
With that, she turned and left.
Christopher recalled Megan asking him to pretend to be Santa Claus. It was one night, after the kids were asleep, and they were spending their time together in the family room, as they did every night. He’d told her ‘fuck no’. She’d already gotten him to dress in costume for Halloween.
Now, though, he knew what he had to do. He walked back to the table, noticing the uneasy looks Johnnie, Val, Digger and Mort gave him. “Any of you motherfuckers know where my ass can get a Santa suit?”
They all exchanged glances.
“You for real, Prez?” Mort asked.
“Fuck yeah. I gotta make-up my assfuckery to Megan.”
Digger belched. “I might know a motherfucker. I’ll let you know in a couple days.”
Christopher nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, brother. Look into that after you prepare the meatshack for Knox’s body.”
One of the waiters led Megan to Knox’s table almost an hour after she was due to arrive. The moment he saw her, his annoyance fled and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He’d been expecting her to arrive…well not looking as if she’d stepped off a runway.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Caldwell,” the waiter told her.
She smiled. “Thank you, Nick. Have you switched your hours? You’re usually here in the evenings.”
The words registered in Knox’s head. “What are you talking about?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell are frequent guests, Mr. Harrington,” Nick explained. “Your mother, Ms. Joan, says they’re in here almost as much as she is.”
“Your mother owns this restaurant?” Megan asked in surprise.
Knox nodded, still reeling from Megan’s appearance and the knowledge that she and Outlaw came here on a regular basis. He’d never told his mother what club he was investigating and he doubted she would’ve taken note of Outlaw’s patches when they dined at J’s. All she saw were customers. Or, maybe, he didn’t wear his cut on the nights he visited J’s.
“Would you like your usual, ma’am?” Nick asked.
“Yes. Ginger ale.”
“Brandy for you, Mr. Harrington?”
“Yes.”
“Very good, sir.”
Once Nick left, Knox didn’t know where to start. He felt like an ass. “Megan—”
She held up her hand. �
�Forget it. I hadn’t intended to ruin your delusion that my husband and I didn’t enjoy fine dining.”
Before he responded, Nick returned with their drinks.
“For what it’s worth, I apologize.”
“Just tell me what you need me to help you with, Knox.”
She wasn’t interested in pleasantries. He deserved her attitude, but not only would that lessen his chances of obtaining her help, he wouldn’t be able to ask about Roxy.
“I need your help with my uncle,” he started.
Her brows snapped together.
“He’s betrayed the club and if Outlaw finds out, he’ll kill him.”
Megan stiffened. “I refuse to sit here while you try to find a way to have my husband arrested.” She started to stand.
Knox grabbed her arm. “Wait, please. I promise you I’m not trying to gather any information. That ended the day I discovered Uncle Avalon is embezzling money from the club.”
That got her attention. “Embezzling?”
“He created a shadow account,” Knox rushed out. “A time or two account statements for the club was left with Brooks’ secretary. My uncle got his hands on them. Somehow…” His voice trailed off and he rubbed his brow. “My uncle started stealing a huge amount of money from the Death Dwellers. Apparently, no one realizes it because Brooks never mentioned it…Or, maybe, someone knows but didn’t tell Brooks. I don’t know.”
“Why come to me with this? You should’ve gone to Christopher. I have no say-so in the club.”
“I know, but I don’t want my uncle to die because of his mistakes. He’s a fine, upstanding man. Well-respected…”
“My husband’s a fine, upstanding man, who’s well-respected. Yet, you wanted to send him to jail, away from me and our kids. Remind me why I should assist you now that your uncle is in trouble?”
The happy-go-lucky, friendly, patient woman he’d underestimated had been replaced by a fierce little tiger.
“I love my uncle.”
“I love my husband.”
“He’s my father’s brother.”
“Christopher is my children’s father.”
“I admire him, Megan. I have to save his life. Tell your husband, I’ll make sure my uncle returns every last penny. Uncle Avalon isn’t a criminal.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 409