“Go right ahead,” he said with a smirk. “I’d like to see that conversation. Unless, of course, he’s still drugged.”
“My husband was never drugged,” she said tightly.
“Okay, so you’re a delusional bitch. Question answered.”
“Fuck you,” she spat, turned on her heel and stomped away.
Just as she reached her Navigator, Randolph caught up to her. “Look, I won’t say anything else to you. Just get me home.”
She shouldn’t agree, but, maybe a ride home would appease him, and he’d let her be.
The ride to Randolph’s house took forever, located in an unincorporated area of Portland and virtually deserted. As she turned off the street and onto the property, Kendall headed for the driveway.
“Keep straight.”
Sidling a glare at him, Kendall drove further onto the property. How many bodies were buried on this out-of-the-way dump?
“Later, Kendall,” Randolph responded.
Several structures and a good-sized portion of land surrounded a wooden house. An old, rusty pickup truck and several dilapidated cars dotted the land. Overgrown trees leaned against the roof of the house. Four motorcycles were parked near one of the outbuildings.
Chickens roamed the yard. A dog lounged on the porch. When Randolph slammed the passenger side door, the dog lifted its head.
Kendall rolled the window down. “Next time, call an Uber or a taxi.”
He saluted her. At his light mood, her annoyance fled.
“Goodbye, Randolph. Thanks for being so understanding.” She grinned. “And not kidnapping me.”
He winked at her, reminding her of Johnnie. “I think I’ve found the answer to our problems, after all.”
With that cryptic statement, he strolled up the old wooden steps and petted the dog before going to the door and disappearing inside.
Driving away, Kendall wondered what mood Johnnie would be in. They seemed to be at a place where reconciliation might be impossible. She had no one to blame but herself if she lost Johnnie. If she lost Johnnie, what would she do?
Sighing, she brooded over the state of her marriage for the duration of her ride home.
ALMOST SKIPPING WITH EXCITEMENT, MEGGIE held her ballgown over her arm as she guided CJ to her Mini Cooper, the four door model that Christopher had recently upgraded.
“Mommie looked pretty in her red gown,” CJ told her.
She smiled. “Thank you, buddy.”
“I get to wear a tux like ‘Law?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t want to wear a fucking monkey suit, MegAnn.”
Meggie rolled her eyes. CJ was determined to imitate Christopher. Unless he stopped cussing, their son never would.
At least she knew the guys were discussing the upcoming ball. In only a week’s time, Meggie had chosen a venue, hired a caterer, and found the perfect dress. She was making amazing progress. Although Valentine’s Day was just over a month away, she was excited.
Life was getting back to normal. The past few days had been peaceful. Her neck was healing. Johnnie seemed to have gotten back to normal. He’d even bought her a new set of cannisters and begged for her forgiveness, swearing Kendall had learned her lesson.
Knowing he hadn’t been in his right mind made it easier for Meggie to accept his apology. However, she worried about the next time Kendall decided she wanted her way. It was a concern, but, for now, Kendall was remorseful.
“MegAnn,” CJ called, bouncing beside her. “I want ice cream.”
Reaching her car, she unlocked the door, then carefully laid her gown over the passenger side seat. She and CJ had run a few errands today, since he was still clinging to her. The rest of her kids were on a play date with their father at the guys’ monthly play date with their children. Christopher had wanted CJ to come, too, but Meggie said it was fine if he stayed with her.
Just as she and CJ were heading home from her errands, the boutique had called to say the alterations on her gown was finished. Unable to wait to have it in her possession, she and CJ had headed to Portland.
“Ice cream, Mommie,” CJ demanded.
“Okay, buddy. We’ll stop for ice cream when we’re closer to home.”
He grinned at her, then opened the back door, and climbed in, scrambling into his car seat. Meggie hid a smile. He was getting so big, wanting to do everything for himself. She just loved him to pieces.
Once she fastened him into his seat, she kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair before straightening and closing the door. Hearing the roar of several motorcycles, she paused and looked around, expecting to see Christopher at any moment.
He hadn’t mandated a lockdown on her, per se, but this was far away from the club, he’d expect her to have guards. Yet, it was such a quick, simple trip, and she’d already been out, she hadn’t seen the need to bother anyone.
Six motorcycles sped into view, capturing her attention. No one she knew jumped out at her. They were just random bikers, so she got into her car and sped off.
She kept the radio low in case her son decided to talk to her, but he was silent. A peek in the rearview mirror showed her that he was gazing out the window, in his own little world.
At the fourth stoplight, she heard motorcycles again. She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw six bikers again, this time bearing down on her. The same six as before? Or just an odd coincidence? An inkling of fear prickled her skin.
The light changed from red to green.
As she started off, one of the bikers zoomed past her, then slid over into her lane. Braking so she wouldn’t run into him, Meggie scowled when he slowed his speed down. She had to get around him. In anticipation of changing lanes, she put her blinker on. Just as she started to guide her car over to the left, two bikes rode beside her, blocking her intentions. Before she had a chance to react, two additional bikes boxed her in on the right. A glance in her rearview mirror revealed a bike behind her. She had a problem.
“Mommie?” CJ called, uncertainty in his voice. The sound of the bikes had gotten his attention.
“It’s okay, potato,” she promised, keeping her voice as level as possible.
One of the bikers on her side pointed. She took that to mean follow the leader. As if they were giving her a choice. Jackets covered any cuts they wore, so she had no clue who they might be.
She had her suspicions, though.
“Who are them?” CJ asked.
“Um, I think they’re Daddy’s friends.” She didn’t believe that, but her panic wouldn’t help her son. Keeping a smile plastered on her face, she grabbed her cell phone, taking care so it wouldn’t be seen, and pressed the number one, Christopher’s speed dial number.
The lead bike turned off the main thoroughfare. The barricade of motorcycles forced Meggie to do the same.
“MEGAN!” Christopher’s voice boomed through the earpiece.
She hadn’t spoken yet. It was almost too dangerous to take her eyes off the road. She didn’t want to run into one of the motorcycles surrounding her. Placing the phone on the center armrest, she slid it back. “Talk to Daddy, CJ,” she said calmly. “Tell him some of his friends are guiding us somewhere.”
“’Kay, MegAnn.” CJ leaned forward and grabbed her cell phone. “’Law,” he piped up. “MegAnn got bikes round her. They not letting her move.” He fell silent. “Uh huh,” he said, after a moment. “She turned like them. They all round the car.”
Before she heard anything else, the bike in front of her stopped, so she shifted into park. They indicated she open the door. She didn’t move to comply.
“Is Daddy still on the phone, CJ?” she asked, fear making her heart pound.
The two bikers who’d been on the drivers side tried to open the door, but she kept it locked.
“You want ‘Law, Mommie?” CJ said, uncertainty slipping into his voice at the knocking on the door.
“You keep talking to him, while I see what they want.”
“’Law, Mommie getting o
ut cuz they punching the door.”
A biker pulled out a gun and aimed it toward the window.
Meggie decided to act. “No!” she yelled. “I’ll get out.”
“Daddy said no, Mommie,” CJ cried. “Don’t get out.”
“Unlock the fucking door,” the biker demanded, his features hidden by a full-face helmet, like the rest of them wore. “Or I shoot.”
She couldn’t risk CJ’s life, so she complied. The moment the locks clicked, the biker pulled open the door, grabbed her arm, and yanked her out.
“Mommie!” CJ cried.
“Aww, fuck, man. She got a kid with her.”
The biker who’d been in the front removed his jacket, revealing a denim cut, then strolled over to her and peeped inside the car.
“Leave my mommie alone, mudna fucka,” CJ ordered, opening the door to face the man. “Or ‘Law get you.”
The biker straightened and narrowed his eyes at the sight of the cell phone in CJ’s hand. He stalked to her son, snatched the phone away, then stomped it beneath his boot, until it shattered and cracked.
“Fuckbag!” CJ yelled, barreling into the biker.
He stumbled back but quickly regained his balance. “Take her.” He glared down at CJ. “Leave the kid to me.”
“No!” Panic rose her hard. Not much scared CJ and that would be dangerous with these men. She had to get her son away. One of them lifted her into his arms and she screamed, banging her head against his chin, and nearly knocking herself out but earning her freedom.
“MOMMIE!” CJ hollered around sobs.
She hurried to her son and shoved him behind her back. He wrapped his arms around her waist, leaned against her, and cried.
“Please, I’ll come with you without a problem, if you leave my son and let me call my husband.”
“Not doing that,” the jacketless man said. He had President patch above the name, Mystic. “Don’t have use for brats.”
“Leave the kid alone, Prez,” one of the bikers ordered. “We already decided we can’t take the Dwellers on, so we want cooperation, not war.”
“Yeah,” another called. “We already pissed Outlaw off when we stole his drugs and killed two of his men.”
This wasn’t good. Not at all. Drug thefts and murders? She and CJ were in deep trouble.
She was sure Christopher had picked up her location by now. He had friends in the area, including two very good friends who were presidents of their own MCs. If she stalled and held these men up long enough, Derby, Boy, or someone would come to help she and CJ until Christopher arrived.
They wrenched CJ away from her. She acted on instinct. Yanking herself away from her captor and launching herself at the man who held CJ, she wrenched her son away. She kicked, screamed, so wild with desperation that she lost her balance and fell on all fours. CJ fought and tearfully cursed alongside of her.
A biker seized her immediately, while another one grabbed CJ.
Through the chaos, the beautiful sound of Harleys, drawing closer and closer, reached her ears. It could be anybody, but, to hold onto hope, Meggie told herself the sound meant she and CJ would be saved.
Mystic must’ve felt the same way. “Fuck!” he yelled. “Let’s ride!”
“’LAW!” CJ screamed.
Meggie knew it wasn’t Christopher, but one of the support clubs.
“Get her out of here.”
“Help us!” Meggie hollered, until the butt of a gun slammed against her head, catapulting her into blackness.
SEEING DERBY HOLDING CJ AND his boy resting his cheek on the biker’s shoulder, Christopher nearly forgot the kickstand when he jumped off his Harley. His heart in his throat, he ran to his son and grabbed him from Derby, holding him close and burying his nose against his small neck.
“MegAnn gone, ‘Law,” CJ sobbed, wrapping his little arms around Christopher’s neck and squeezing. “Bad mudna fuckers took Mommie.”
Christopher shut his eyes and tried to form words. “You safe, boy,” he managed, his mind a step or two behind processing everything. “I gotcha.”
“Mommie gone,” he cried again.
“We gonna get her back, CJ,” Christopher swore, his worst fears coming to life, but still thankful they’d left CJ unharmed. He didn’t want to think what his girl might be going through right now. He needed a moment. He needed to calm his son. Slow both their heartbeats.
“Outlaw, by the time we arrived, Meggie was gone,” Derby started. “Little Man was screaming. The minute he saw me, he ran to me.”
Christopher nodded. His boy knew Derby, which was a good thing.
A line of bikes turned into the deserted parking lot, more of Derby’s brothers, some of the Night Fliers, and Johnnie, Val, and Mortician. Christopher hadn’t clued them in until he lost contact with CJ. When his boy had called, he’d just gotten home from his day with his other kids. He’d thought CJ was calling just to be calling, not because of a fucking nightmare in process.
Some of the men swarmed around Meggie’s car, searching it. Boy, president of the Night Fliers, held up a dress bag, and Christopher realized she must’ve gone to get her evening gown.
Not wanting to put his son down, he went to where Boy stood talking to Mortician.
“Prez, everything here,” Mortician started. “Except Meggie girl.”
“Outlaw,” one of the biker’s called, looking toward the ground.
At the moment, Christopher couldn’t put names to voices. Fuck, it would be hard to recognize fucking faces right now, if he’d only met them a handful of times, so here merely said, “Yeah?”
The Night Flier pointed. “There’s a cell phone here. It’s been smashed to pieces.”
“I want MegAnn,” CJ sniffled hoarsely.
“We gonna get your Ma back, boy,” he said gruffly. The question was in what condition? Dead or alive? “I’m gonna bring her home.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.
“Christopher?” Johnnie started, devastation in his eyes. He looked tired and haggard. “Do you know who did this?”
The Imperials. Christopher felt that to his fucking bones. They’d caused all types of damage already, but motherfuckers in his club were getting lax, relaxed. Himself included.
“It could be any mother who want something from Outlaw,” Derby speculated. “Anybody could’ve taken her.”
“My stick,” CJ announced. “My stick took Mommie.”
“My stick?” Johnnie echoed.
My stick…MyStick…My…stic.
Christopher’s blood chilled at having his fears confirmed. “Mystic,” he growled. “Motherfuckin’ Mystic.” CJ could read and spell some words, but he still relied heavily on phonetic pronunciation.
Although his boy was still panicked and scared, the praises all the bikers threw his way seemed to appease him slightly. By now, Digger and Diesel had arrived. Diesel still couldn’t ride on his own, but Christopher knew the boy had probably insisted on coming, so he didn’t mind riding bitch.
“Diesel, drive Megan car back home,” Christopher instructed, the brave face he was putting on harder than a motherfucker to accomplish. Inside, he was falling apart. If anything happened to Megan, his life was over.
“I want Mommie, ‘Law,” CJ whispered, tears still in his voice. “Get MegAnn back.”
Christopher hugged CJ tighter, turning his head away from all the other men, so they wouldn’t see his own tears. But he had to hold it together to find her and to keep CJ and his other children calm.
“Son, Diesel gonna take you home,” Christopher started, once he felt as if his emotions were under control.
“No!” CJ protested immediately. “I help find MegAnn.”
“You ain’t able to help this time, boy,” Christopher said gruffly. “Go the fuck with Diesel and help his ass take care of your sister and brothers. Okay?”
He nodded. “Okay, Daddy.”
It was rare that CJ called him Dad or Daddy, but, whenever he did, Christopher’s heart melted.
/> “You did good, boy,” he said quietly. “Me and your Ma so fuckin’ proud of you.”
“Come on, CJ,” Diesel said, his eyes suspiciously moist.
When he took CJ out of Christopher’s arms, Christopher hated to give him up. As long as he held CJ, he had a connection to Megan and he knew his boy was safe. Fuck!
What the fuck was he doing?
“Diesel,” he called when his adopted son would’ve turned away. He unholstered the gun strapped to his leg and held it out to Diesel. “Shoot fuckin’ first. Ask fuckin’ questions later.”
Diesel stared at the gun.
“Ain’t been givin’ you target practice for nothin’, boy,” he said with impatience.
“Okay,” Diesel mumbled, grabbing the .22 from Christopher.
Once Diesel, CJ, and Megan’s dress had left in her car, Christopher scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d been so fucking cocksure that he’d always know his girl’s location because of all the tracking devices he had monitoring her—one in her car, on her phone, in her purse. But what the fuck good had it done to him, when they’d fucking took her and left her things behind.
Next fucking step was having something implanted underneath her skin. He winced. Megan wouldn’t go for that…
Fuck! He had to get her back. She was his heart and soul. His everything. Without her, he was nothing. Life was nothing.
“Prez, keep it together for Meggie girl,” Mortician said, perhaps seeing something in his face.
Christopher drew in a deep breath.
“Outlaw,” Boy started, placing a hand on his shoulder, the sun gleaming off his bald, brown head. “CJ said Mystic, right?”
“If that’s so, the only Mystic we know who’d forfeit his fucking life like this is the president of the Imperials,” Derby added.
“Tell us what you want, Outlaw,” Val called, looking as if he wanted to throw up. “How we getting Meggie back.”
They all looked amongst each other, knowing what brutal motherfuckers the Imperials were. They fucked up women and children and…fuck!
“We’re going to get her back, Outlaw,” Derby promised. “I’ll personally see to it. She’s Gypsy’s best friend.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 444