Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  Knox emptied his glass, grabbed the bottle and filled his cup to the brim. Roxanne hadn’t called him. She hadn’t stopped him from leaving, either. She wanted her damn way. She wanted him to give in and to show him he couldn’t tell her what to do. If he didn’t stand his ground, she’d soon try to rule him like Callie had tried to.

  Roxanne wouldn’t compromise on Kendall. She wouldn’t compromise on her involvement in the club. And she wouldn’t compromise on not having Bailey and Mortician renew their vows during their wedding.

  As her fiancé, he had a say in the ceremony and in her life. The sooner she realized that, the better.

  He glanced around the club. Potter, now a full member, stood behind the bar, big and intimidating and tattooed. Knox kind of liked him, though. He had sense.

  “I want to help Kendall, protect her, keep her alive,” Johnnie continued. “I just don’t know if I want to continue to be married to her.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “Not yet. Whatever happens to our relationship, I’ve decided I’m not holding anything back any longer. Kendall has to accept me.”

  “You need to accept her,” Knox reminded him, almost unable to believe he sounded as if he was defending that witch. Still… “You want her to be Megan.”

  “That isn’t true,” Johnnie protested, weakly, to Knox’s ears.

  “It’s always interesting to watch you interact with Megan. There’s a rapport there between you two. Outlaw sees it, too, but he accepts it because he knows her eyes aren’t big enough to see him. She adores the man. Kendall can’t accept it, because you’re always throwing Megan in her face.”

  Johnnie didn’t respond, so Knox pressed on.

  “After all these years, Megan should be a non-issue. Yet, you’re still dealing with it. Did you ever truly love Kendall? Were you in love with her, ever? How many times have you been asked that? By how many people? Open your eyes, man. You say you’ve been patient with Kendall. I say you’ve been reticent. You can’t put the energy in because you really don’t give a fuck. Oh, you’ve put on a good show, but you’ve never gotten over Megan Caldwell. You either have graveyard love for her, a sick fascination, or a deathly obsession with her. As long as Megan is in your way, in your life, not only won’t you have a future with Kendall, but no one else, either.”

  It took effort, but Johnnie restrained himself from pulling out his blade and shoving it into Knox’s throat. He held off for Kendall. She was looking forward to Roxanne’s wedding and being a part of their group again. For a ceremony, a bride and groom were needed.

  If he slit Knox’s throat, one part of that equation would be morbidly absent.

  Knox had overstepped his boundaries, though. How dare the motherfucker tell him he’d never loved Kendall! That he hadn’t given a fuck about her, so he’d allowed her to barrel through his life—everyone’s—unchecked.

  Johnnie loved Kendall. He missed her like crazy. His children missed her. No, Kendall wasn’t perfect. She had problems and issues, but she was beautiful, classy, and sexy. She gave Johnnie’s life meaning.

  Yet, he was so fucking tired of her drama. She stayed busy. And by busy he meant into shit she shouldn’t have stuck her nose into. She stayed on Christopher’s bad side. She couldn’t decide if she loved or hated Megan.

  But no one, Knox included, had the right to dismiss Kendall as if she were expendable.

  “Fucker,” Johnnie snarled, so angry his voice was a growl, “if you ever tell me I’ve never loved Kendall, I will fucking gut you.”

  Knox’s eyes widened.

  “Furthermore, don’t try and give me fucking advice when your own relationship is so fucked up. When I go to my room here in the clubhouse at night, I know Kendall is my wife. Roxanne is in no way, shape or form legally bound to you.”

  “Hold on, Johnnie. I haven’t heard a word you said past you having a room at the clubhouse. That means you sleep here? What about your house? Your kids?”

  “My kids sleep at Megan’s house. And Christopher’s,” he added quickly, when Knox lifted a brow. “Megan and Christopher offered me a guest room, so I could be with my children, but I can’t see their happy family and know that mine is close to collapsing.”

  Besides, Kendall had decorated their house. Everywhere Johnnie looked reminded him of her.

  “You specifically brought your children to Megan,” Knox said with disapproval, either brushing off Johnnie’s death warning or just plain ignoring it. “Oh, and Outlaw,” he added with infuriating sarcasm.

  “Knox—”

  “Knock it off. Can’t you see how fucked up that is? You could’ve brought them to Bailey or Zoann or Fee or Bunny. Even Roxanne. Those kids think she’s their grandmother. They would’ve loved being with her.”

  “One of the things Kendall has to recognize and accept is how much I admire Megan. She’s my friend. I’m not giving our friendship up. But I’m tired of discussing my wife. Why don’t we talk about the state of your relationship with the woman you haven’t gotten down the aisle yet?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m giving in and sleeping here at the club house.”

  “That should win you points with the woman.”

  Knox lifted a brow. “The woman has a name, asshole.”

  “She also has a nose that she sticks in my goddamn business too fucking much. She thinks she knows what’s best for Kendall—”

  “She knows better than you do,” Knox growled. “Kendall acts like a spoiled goddamn child and you’re the idiot who agrees with everything she says. For whatever damn reason.”

  Johnnie stiffened. “Really, fuckhead? If I agreed with everything, she’d still be here, so that line is tired. Find a new one.”

  Glowering at him, Knox finished off his drink then poured himself another one. Before Kendall and while they’d been together, Johnnie would never have thought to drink such an expensive alcohol out of plastic. Now, it was an unimportant quirk, developed to flip off his wife’s dictates. Scotch was scotch and did the job it was meant to do, even if he drank it straight from the bottle.

  “Okay, I’ll put the reticence argument to bed,” Knox conceded. “How about this one? You two shouldn’t be together. You’re toxic. You don’t like Roxanne interceding on Kendall’s behalf, on your behalf? Then fuck you. You’re a shitty excuse for a husband with the way you handle the Megan situation, but, at heart, Kendall is a mean-spirited witch who means you, Roxanne, her children, Megan, no one, any good.”

  “Watch it, Knox. You’re treading on dangerous territory. I’m a moment away from taking you to the meatshack and draining you of blood in slow degrees.”

  “Stop acting like Outlaw. All the barbarian does is threaten to kill people. Me, especially. I’m your friend, Johnnie. You and I have bonded almost from the moment we met. And you know that. You also know what I’ve said is true.”

  “Not about Kendall, it isn’t,” Johnnie warned. “If you don’t have anything good to say about her, keep your fucking mouth shut. We are friends, Knox. But you cross the line when you degrade Kendall. Believe me or not. I will torture you and then kill you if you keep it up. The agony won’t last as long since we’re friends.”

  “Gee, how fucking thoughtful of you,” Knox spat. “I have a stipulation of my own: Check your resentment for Roxanne.”

  Johnnie smirked. The fucker had balls. “Or what? You’ll beat my ass or something?”

  “Yes,” Knox said tightly. “Roxanne’s mine. She means well and that’s all that matters. Stop downing her or else.”

  Johnnie hooted with laughter. “Or else,” he echoed, banging on the table.

  “I’ve gotten into a few fist fights in my life. I served on the force for a number of years,” Knox reminded him.

  “Child’s play,” Johnnie dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’ll stomp you to the fucking ground if you lay your hands on me, so find another way to protect Roxanne.”

  Knox gave him a nasty grin. “I’ll tell Mortician.”<
br />
  Johnnie’s humor fled. Mortician wouldn’t win in a battle against him again. Not like he had when Kendall had drugged Johnnie. Still, it would be one hell of a fight. One that Johnnie didn’t care to engage in. “Let’s just drop the goddamn subject.”

  “Yeah, I thought so.”

  “I’ll ignore that,” Johnnie gritted, thinking of Kendall and how lovely she’d looked last night at the ball. He’d kept his distance from her. If he hadn’t, he would’ve spent the night at her house. They didn’t need sex. They needed tolerance and acceptance. Understanding.

  “I have to save Kendall from whatever.” Johnnie scrubbed a hand over his face. “Christopher let her off too easy, Knox. She was almost responsible for Megan’s death. She was the reason he shot me. And, worst of all, she almost hit CJ. Punched him.”

  “In the face,” Knox supplied, as if the mere knowledge wasn’t bad enough.

  “In the face,” Johnnie echoed bleakly.

  “If you feel as if Outlaw has something dire planned, talk to him. He’s direct. He’ll tell you if he plans to kill her or have her killed.”

  The words echoed in Johnnie’s brain, in his heart, and a chill passed through him. That was it. More than likely, Christopher would personally kill Kendall.

  “Do you know she arranged a gun deal after Christopher had turned it down?”

  The bleakness Johnnie felt at the admission made him ignore Knox’s shock.

  “It ended up being a set-up,” Johnnie went on, trusting Knox to keep this confidence. “She stowed away on the plane carrying the arms and didn’t listen when I told her to stay in her rented room. She, along with Val and Christopher, were kidnapped.”

  “Fuck,” Knox gasped.

  Johnnie commiserated with Knox’s disbelief. “Christopher suspended me from the club. Kendall only wanted to be accepted and thought this would do it. The deal was supposed to be very lucrative. Too lucrative.”

  “I’m so sorry that she got you into so many problems.” Knox sipped his drink, a question gathering in his eyes. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.

  “What? Ask me whatever’s on your mind.”

  “Do you…” Knox’s voice trailed off, then he sighed. “Did she not understand club dynamics?”

  “Kendall’s a very smart woman.” Johnnie knew that hadn’t been Knox’s original question, but he didn’t pursue it. He had more important matters to concern himself with. Remembering that fateful holiday season, where Kendall’s interference had cost so much, sent waves of panic through him.

  Christopher had so many reasons to kill Kendall.

  “What happened to the guns?”

  Johnnie shrugged. “Who the hell knows. It was a huge loss.” He heaved in a sigh. “If only she’d been successful.”

  “Do you think Outlaw wouldn’t hate her as much?”

  “He’ll never like Kendall, but I do believe she would’ve felt worthy. She wouldn’t have continued to insert herself where she didn’t belong. It also would’ve made the club a lot of money. Other members would’ve cut her more slack.”

  “Does the club run guns often?”

  Knox seemed not to care about Kendall’s precarious position. Johnnie might’ve taken offense, if not for the genuine interest in the man’s voice.

  “We did more when Big Joe ran our outfit. Once Megan came into the picture—”

  “It was too dangerous?”

  “It required too much time away. Payoffs to keep law enforcement from hassling us. Help from support clubs. Of course, everything depended on the amount of merchandise we ran.” Johnnie finished his Scotch and poured himself another measure. “I think Big Joe had us in more of the gray area.”

  “Neither strictly legal nor illicit.”

  Johnnie grinned. “The cop in you is showing.”

  Knox shrugged. “Vice wasn’t my thing, but I am familiar with laws.” He copied Johnnie by finishing his whisky and refilling his cup. “Has running arms been very lucrative for the club?”

  “It has been.” Johnnie remembered Kendall’s interference again. “With the exception of the last shipment. I would give anything to make that up. Now that Kendall and I have separated, who knows?”

  “You’d go behind Outlaw’s back and cut your own deal?”

  “Are you insane, man? I would find a deal and bring it to him.”

  “Ah.”

  A loud whistle screeched through the air, interrupting their conversation. Realizing Knox wasn’t a club member, so he’d said to much already, Johnnie was grateful for the distraction.

  “Spoke to Outlaw,” Potter announced, then pointed at Knox. “I quote, ‘Knox Harrington movin’ to the fuckin’ clubhouse. Re-fuckin-spect him or deal with my fuckin’ ass’. End of quote.”

  Johnnie scowled at Knox’s grin. “Diplomatic immunity, huh, Knox? How does it feel to be so special?”

  As noise returned to the main room, Potter headed to the table and laid a set of keys down in front of him.

  “Val’s old room where you’ll be sleeping,” Potter declared, then walked off.

  Knox frowned, then glanced at Johnnie. “You think Megan and Bailey did a good job cleaning the room?” he asked with real worry. “How many gallons of bleach would it take to sterilize the room and make it safe for human habitation?”

  Johnnie grinned. “Gallons, motherfucker. Gallons.”

  Knox covered his face and groaned.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As if the years fell away, Emily Riser watched as Kendall Miller glided toward the table she sat at. Emily couldn’t have been more shocked when she’d received a call from the redhead. They’d never been friends. Emily had never wanted to be Kendall’s friend, but she hadn’t been able to resist accepting the dinner invitation to see what the stupid, overgrown cow wanted.

  “Emily?” Kendall greeted tentatively as she stopped at the table.

  Emily pasted a smile on her face. “Kendall, darling, it’s positively lovely to see you,” she lied, standing and air kissing each of Kendall’s cheeks.

  They slid into their respective booths and grinned at each other. Emily hated Kendall’s expressive brown eyes and flaming red hair. She hated the creamy skin, fine features, and long legs that every boy in school had found so fascinating. Kendall had gone from being a bullied outcast to a whore for any man she met. Yet, here she was, in spite of everything, still smiling, still gorgeous.

  Still her…?

  “I heard about your mother.” Compassion oozed from Emily’s voice. “You have my deepest sympathy.”

  Kendall nodded. “Thank you.”

  Was that a tentative note in the redhead’s voice? Did Emily, by any chance, still intimidate her? Maybe, she remained that insecure little girl who Emily had shut out.

  “Oh, I’m so glad to see you! You’ve grown from an ugly duckling to a gorgeous swan, Ms. Miller.”

  “Not Miller. Donovan,” Kendall stated with surprising coolness. “I’ve been married for a number of years. I have three children.” She smiled. “Poor you, still haven’t found Mr. Right. Oh, Em!”

  Bitch!

  Emily cleared her throat, surprised at Kendall’s comeback. “I…well, yes, I have a magnificent life, darling,” she lied. “I wouldn’t want a husband and kids tying me down.” That was true, but she was stuck in a menial job, with no hope of getting her life back on track. She’d had a terrible cocaine addiction and lost everything, even her family, because of it.

  “Who is the lucky guy?”

  “John Donovan. Vice-president of the Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club and CEO of Wellchris Enterprises, the parent company of the Wellchris Medical Labs.”

  Hadn’t she read something about Wellchris in the newspaper a few months ago? And hadn’t she seen news stories, good and bad, about the Death Dwellers? She’d Google both later. Right now, she acted duly impressed.

  “Wow! You moved up in the world. What a lucky woman. Congratulations.”

  “You’re too kind,” Kendall responded wi
th a genuine smile that Emily intended to eat up and spit out.

  To save her marriage, Kendall had decided she needed to face all her fears and dislikes. Her greatest of both was Meggie. Partly because Johnnie was such an idiot, but mostly because of the woman sitting across from her.

  Emily was slightly taller than Meggie. Shocking, Kendall knew; Mortician didn’t call her Smurfette without cause.

  Kendall wrinkled her nose, cataloging how much bustier and curvier she was than Meggie. Emily’s face, though…her face was almost the spitting image of Meggie. Yet, Meggie’s blue eyes were kinder, warmer. Her skin smoother, creamier, silkier than both Kendall’s and Emily’s, which was galling, but whatever. The words Meggie spoke, she meant. She didn’t patronize anyone in the hopes of walking over them.

  As if.

  Kendall had called Emily with an open heart and an open mind. She’d wanted bygones to be bygones. She wanted her demons put to rest. In order to do that, she needed to confront her nemesis once more. To see that Emily was nothing special, after all. She’d been easy to find. A couple of calls to mutual school acquaintances with whom Kendall had seen from time-to-time over the years, and she’d gotten Emily’s phone number.

  It had been a long twenty-four hours. First, the big Valentine’s Day party, then Knox’s proposal, then the argument—Knox was the biggest asshole on earth, even bigger than Emily.

  Kendall didn’t have the time or the inclination to allow Emily to think she’d still suffer her bullshit.

  Kendall drummed her fingers on the table. “Emily, darling, it’s been so good to see you. I’ve had a long day, so I don’t find the need to draw this out. When I was a young girl, I only ever wanted to be your friend. You taunted and ridiculed me. For years, I suffered image problems because of you. But I look at you now and see absolutely fucking nothing. Just a cunt who was jealous of me and my beauty…” Maybe, that was stretching it, since Emily was so gorgeous in her own right, but Kendall wouldn’t back down., even as the other woman’s face reddened and her mouth fell open.