He’d return the favor with literal interpretation.
Getting to his feet, he walked to the bathroom and headed to Megan’s closet. He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes when he picked up her scent. Cherry blossoms.
The nightgown she’d worn the night before she was taken hung on a hook. The black silk made her look so fucking sexy. Going to it, he pulled the material against his face and sniffed. Tears leaked from his eyes, which pissed him off even further and made him add removal of eyeballs to his torture list.
Sniffling, he removed the nightgown from the hook, buried his face in it and wept. The one thing he could say was he had no regrets. No matter the outcome. Loving her was his greatest joy and most precious privilege. And she knew it. He made sure he told her as much as possible, every day.
He also knew how much she adored him. It never failed to humble him that a sweet girl like her could love a motherfucker like him. She loved him for him. It didn’t matter to her if he was Christopher or Outlaw, he was her man, and she let the world know it.
She was his girl. His woman. His wife.
His Megan.
Unable to put the nightgown down, Christopher brought it into the bedroom with him, then laid it in her spot. He stared down at it and slapped his cheeks to remove the tears. Once, twice, three time! Until his face stung.
Thrusting his hands through his hair, he dug into his pocket and came up with a small picture of Megan. He kissed it, then placed it on her pillow.
This time, when he laid down, he faced her side. Seeing her nightgown and knowing her face was on the small photo comforted him.
He was finally able to fall asleep.
UNABLE TO BEAR THE THOUGHT that she’d had something to do with Meggie’s abduction, Kendall decided to drive to Randolph’s place herself. She wasn’t sure where the Dwellers had searched for Meggie, but Randolph’s place was so out of the way, she didn’t think that had been on their radar.
She could alert Johnnie, so he’d tell Christopher. However, she’d just gotten back into her husband’s good graces. If she confessed she’d taken Randolph’s case, Johnnie would never forgive her, in light of recent events.
She’d prefer to die than to lose her husband.
Besides, unless, Johnnie went to Randolph’s place on his own, Christopher, the asshole, would want to know where Johnnie got the information. Johnnie might be too angry to protect her, and then her life would be over, anyway.
No, it was best this way. She had to do this on her own.
Reaching the house, Kendall turned off the road and onto the property. Noticing three motorcycles parked in the yard, she didn’t drive as far as she had when she’d dropped Randolph off. Killing the ignition at the edge of the property, near the street, Kendall thought of her husband again.
The first time she’d seen him at Christopher’s bachelor party, when she’d still had her mother and sister in the world. From the moment her and Johnnie met, he’d protected her. He’d wanted her to stay and she’d wanted him to kiss her on the mouth.
And their battle of wills had begun.
Through some of her darkest days—her sexual assault, mother’s suicide, Kendall’s captivity—she’d held onto memories of her blond biker with the body of an athlete and the most magnificent silver eyes she’d ever seen.
How could she have been so blind to his love? Why would she recognize it now, when it might be too late?
Swallowing, she knew she couldn’t leave her Navigator without apologizing to him and telling him how much she truly loved him.
I love you so much, Johnnie. I’m so sorry for all the things I’ve ever done to you. Please forgive me. When you remember me, think of the love we shared. Don’t let our children forget me.
Swiping at her tears, Kendall pressed send. It might’ve been melodramatic, but she just didn’t have a good feeling about her decision to rescue Meggie. In her bones, she knew it would be either her or Meggie to make it out alive.
That was fine with her. She’d caused this, so she’d pay the consequences, even if it was the ultimate one.
At peace with her decision, Kendall got out of the car and closed the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to alert anyone to her presence.
Her heart banged in her chest and a little tremble assailed her. She was scared, so very scared. To die. To live. To be.
Hoping she wouldn’t be spotted, Kendall hurried around the old house. When the raggedy front porch came into view, she noticed the dog was absent.
Was that a good sign or a bad omen?
It didn’t matter.
Deciding on her next course of action, she shielded her eyes with her hand from the sunburst and glanced into the distance.
Most of the structures had padlocks on them, which did Kendall no good. No use in delaying this. One way or the other she’d find Meggie.
Marching forward, she skirted past the bikes and crouched down, so she wouldn’t be seen through the windows of the house. She reached the rusty old pickup and grabbed the bumper, standing to her full height and rushing to the first shoddy building.
She put her ear against the door, trying to detect movement. “Meggie?” she called in a loud whisper.
No response.
“Meggie!”
Nothing.
God, this wouldn’t do. Her half-hearted effort annoyed her, so she stiffened her shoulders and pounded on the door.
“MEGGIE!” she yelled.
Not a peep.
She decided to move to the next building and repeated the process. After three tries with no results, a chilling thought came to Kendall.
Meggie was already dead.
Her one true girlfriend. Roxy was like a mother to Kendall, but Meggie had been…a sister, a confidante, someone Kendall count on. Her treachery had ruined that, too.
On a sob, she started toward the last outbuilding, which was about fifty yards away. Halfway there, she stumbled across a door sticking out of the ground with, of course, a padlock.
Gritting her teeth in frustration, she crouched down and listened. Nothing.
“Meggie?” she called, placing her ear back on the door.
Did she hear movement on the other side?
“MEGGIE! Are you in there?”
“Kendall!” a faint voice responded.
Or was that a whisper in the wind? A figment of her imagination. She wanted Meggie to be alive so bad.
“Meggie, is it really you?”
“Kendall, help,” that faint voice came again.
“Wait! I’m coming for you.”
“Are you now?” a voice from behind her said, just before two pairs of legs came into view.
The barrel of a gun pressed into the back of her head.
“You know what? I hear Outlaw won’t give us what we want if we kill his bitch, but we have to show them we’re serious in some way,” the man sneered.
“Wh-what do you mean?” Kendall asked in a shaky voice, her brain kicking into gear. Deny! Deny! Deny! “Who’s Outlaw?”
The man laughed. “Don’t play stupid, Kendall. Randolph told me all about you.” He fingered her hair. “Your gorgeous red hair. Your height. I know you’re John Boy’s old lady. Maybe, if we killed you and kept the blonde alive a bit longer, we might get some results.”
“Maybe, if you sent your demands to the club, you’d get results, too, asshole,” she snapped.
“I’m too busy having fun with her,” he said coldly. “Once I’ve used her to my satisfaction, then I’ll contact the club.”
“You’re a dead man, you stupid motherfucker,” she spat. “Fucking with Meggie.”
“You’re the bitch who told Randolph to take her.”
“Maybe, I lied. Ever consider that, bastard?”
For a moment, silence reigned, and Kendall gloated. Then, she heard the click of the gun.
“I love you, Johnnie,” she whispered, a moment before the bullet crashed into her skull, killing her instantly.
STOP AND THI
NK ABOUT THIS! Do you really want Kendall dead? Didn’t your heart drop, just a teeny bit? Maybe, you thought about all my promises that I’d never kill Kendall? I’ve always contended she’s one of the heroines, therefore I can’t kill her, in all good conscience.
But, more than that, Kendall provides a source of entertainment and controversy that wouldn't be present if I actually went through with the previous scene and let her die. Think hard on this. PLEASE! She's the bad girl of the story and you would really miss her if I killed her. This is something that could not be undone. Therefore, I cannot in all good faith kill her off.
You may wonder why I can't kill her off, but she's present to remind us that love comes in all forms. Although she doesn't always show it, in her own way, she does love Johnnie. As a matter of fact, both characters are in the story to show that not all relationships are perfect but, somehow, they survive. We all know couples who’ve separated two million and two times. On the two millionth and third try, they find a common ground and make their relationship work. Yes, I know couples like this also get divorced, but I’m thinking with a glass half-full mentality.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 447