“What is wrong with you people? Johnnie threatened me with the meatshack and draining my blood. Now, you’re threatening me with castration and decapitation.”
Mortician grinned. “Don’t fuck with John Boy. He like torture. He’ll use a few steel straws to puncture you with and talk to you as you bleed out.”
“Johnnie? College-educated, suit-wearing, Johnnie? You’re a liar.”
“Appearances deceiving, Knox,” Mortician said with a glare. “Don’t get on Johnnie bad side. No bullshitting.”
“I’ll remember that.” Knox didn’t believe for a minute that Johnnie enjoyed torture and murder. Maybe, at first, he’d thought so. But since he’d gotten to know Johnnie more, the man had never shown anything but a light-hearted, classy side. Even when he was in his cut. “It’s time for me to stop bullshitting with you, Mortician. I’m not adhering to your stupid no-sex, no living-together rule, and neither is Roxanne. She wants to appease you, but she makes up her own mind. I’m going to be with Roxanne before the wedding. We’re grownups. We don’t need your permission to do anything. Who the hell do you people think you are? Outlaw with his dictator complex, giving my woman a goddamn tacky, purple, Navigator. It reeks of classlessness…Now, this? Fuck you. Roxanne’s visiting me tonight and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
The cold look Mortician gave Knox chilled him, but if he allowed himself to be intimidated, he’d never have a chance with them. Until now, he and Mortician had been on good terms.
“What are you going to do about that?” he taunted. “Neither me nor Roxanne will allow you to use your need for a momma to carry out this ridiculous bullshit. It’s pathetic to think you can substitute Roxanne for a dead woman who didn’t have the sense to leave her husband and make a good life for herself.”
Mortician’s punch to Knox’s Outlaw-abused jaw would’ve knocked him to the ground, if the enforcer hadn’t grabbed his hair and land a few more punches on various places of Knox’s body. Just as he released him, he landed a blow to Knox’s stomach.
Moaning and choking, Knox rolled on the ground.
Mortician crouched next to him. “Don’t talk about my dead momma. In my eyes, the woman next to a saint and you defile her with your fucked-up words. Roxanne like a substitute momma to me, to all us. More than that, she Bailey momma and they adore each other. You fucking lucky I liked you enough to let you be her boyfriend, instead of disappearing your fucking ass by running you through a goddamn wood chipper. Deep in your heart, you don’t think she worthy of you, because of us. You think you doing her a favor by marrying her.”
“I-I don’t,” Knox gasped. “I swear. I-I love her. I swear,” he said, close to tears from the pain.
“Roxanne a good woman, Knox. Bailey close to her momma. She scared, too. Know why? She think you going to take Roxanne and move her away, just to get her away from us. I’ll fucking kill you if you hurt Bailey like that. That’s part of my reason for doing this, but mostly, it’s because of Roxanne. If you don’t accept us, really fucking accept us, you’ll never truly accept her. You staying at the fucking clubhouse. We going to teach you about who we really are. You keeping your cock to yourself. You going to show Roxanne you can’t live without her, not sex, not her cooking. Her, motherfucker.”
Despite his pain, Knox raised his head and glared at Mortician. He was his soon-to-be son-in-law? The man with the ‘all-mothers-are-chaste-and-in-need-of-protection’ complex?
Standing, Mortician loomed over Knox, muscles bulging, eyes angry…Motorcycle boots near Knox’s head.
Into the tense silence, Knox’s cell phone rang. He forced himself to a sitting position, moaning and grunting and cursing Mortician to high hell, and grabbed his phone out of his pocket. He scowled at the familiar number.
“Yes, Outlaw?” he answered, irritated.
“Johnnie at the club, talkin’ about a meetin’ Kendall had with Emily Riser.”
“Is the name Emily Riser supposed to mean something to me?”
“Yeah! She the bitch got psycho cunt hatin’ on Megan.”
Jesus Christ! These people!
Knox rubbed his hurting forehead. “What about her?” he asked, as if Outlaw’s explanation made a difference.
“She in Portland. Contact her and set up a meetin’ where her and Johnnie meet some kinda way. If she look so much like Megan, then that should fuckin’ nudge him another fuckin’ step away from Kendall.”
Although he liked the sound of Kendall being one step closer to being gone for good, Knox couldn’t believe Outlaw’s audacity. “That plan is pretty fucked up. You’re basically owning the fact that Johnnie wants Megan and using that to come between him and Kendall.”
“Yeah,” Outlaw said without remorse. “So? One way or a-fucking-nother, Ima make sure Kendall have her day of reckonin’. Now, do what the fuck I told you to do and shut the fuck up.”
The call disconnected.
Cursing in frustration, Knox got to his feet. His body hurt, but he’d survive. Seeing Mortician standing a short distance away, Knox limped to him, just as the enforcer was ending a call.
“Shit covered,” Mortician announced.
“What do you mean?”
“Guards going to be posted at night by Roxanne and in front of your door at the club. She try and sneak by you or vice versa, she’ll be stopped and you’ll be detained, then I’ll be called to deal with the situation.”
Mortician smirked at him, then turned on his heel and started off, whistling a merry little tune.
The entire way back to the club Knox wished a painful death upon Mortician’s head.
CHAPTER NINE
With Kendall away, Johnnie declined to take his turn to host a family dinner, so it was moved to Roxy’s house, three days later. With all of the big bikers in her small, open space, it looked overcrowded. Bunny, Bailey, and Roxy sat on the sofa, eating their meal of stewed chicken, boiled rice, and steamed carrots. Johnnie sat in one wing chair while Zoann sat in another. Outlaw was stretched out on his side in the middle of the floor, eating casually, as Meggie leaned against him, also eating. Digger sat at the bar, already on his second plate, while Knox stood behind it. He’d refused to eat, claiming he wasn’t hungry. Mortician sat on the floor, on the side of the sofa, near Bailey. Val lounged against the wall, eating with contentment. He’d already put it out there that he wanted some of Roxy’s pecan pie and hoped she’d made one or two.
She had, but she kept that information to herself. Like a big child, he’d put his food aside and go straight for the sweets.
She leaned back, contented. It had been a very productive day. The only blight—the thing that pissed her off the most—was having last night’s plans to visit Knox thwarted.
Mortician, the motherfucker, was too suspicious for his own good. How the fuck did he know to post guards? She’d argued. When that didn’t work, she’d brought her ass back inside, deciding she needed a firm plan to outsmart her misguided son-in-law.
The door opened, and Diesel walked in, carrying a handful of empty paper plates. He was in the garage with the kids, where there was TV, video games, central heat, and all types of toys.
Diesel was a sweet kid, with sad gray eyes, and black hair. He’d filled out since Outlaw had rescued him from the streets. They’d miss him when he left for college, if he left. He might choose some place nearby. He’d told Roxy he didn’t want to leave Outlaw and Meggie, fearing they’d get used to him not being there and decide he was no longer a part of the family.
Roxy knew that wouldn’t happen, but he just had to see for himself.
He loped to the trash can, threw out his load, then went to the refrigerator, and pulled out two packs of juice boxes. With a grin, he headed back out and closed the door behind him.
Knox poured a Scotch for himself, then held up the glass. “Anyone care for a drink?”
What a mighty fine man he was, with eyes that reminded Roxy of sparkling amber, a chiseled jaw, slim waist, and a fine ass that was quite
squeezable as they made love.
He sipped from his glass, his gaze never leaving hers, lit with promises and innuendoes.
Licking her lips, Roxy patted her hair. Tonight, she didn’t wear a wig. At their family dinners, she usually went without. Still, her hair had grown even longer, which she was so happy about, considering one of the side effects of Tamoxifen was hair loss.
“Drinks, anyone?” Knox asked again, after another heated look at her.
Johnnie lifted his glass of Scotch. “We still have what we were given before we started eating.”
“All right.” Knox sipped, then cleared his throat. “Everyone, may I have your attention?”
The low conversations going on amongst everyone stopped as the group quieted.
“Thank you.”
Knox was so proper and polite. She loved that about him. She loved how they made their differences work. Sometimes, though, doubts crept into her. Roxy would shove them away and remind herself that Knox loved her, so much so he hadn’t even asked her for a prenup.
He probably knew that would be a deal breaker.
“Roxanne and Bailey have set a date for the dual ceremonies,” Knox announced. “August of this year. On the sixth.”
Digger licked his fingers. “That’s months away.”
“Glad to know you can fucking count,” Mortician joked around a mouthful of food.
In response, Digger opened his mouth to reveal the half-chewed contents.
“Nasty motherfucker,” Roxy complained. “Do that shit again and your ass is barred from eating in my house.”
“Aww, Roxanne, I didn’t mean no harm,” Digger complained.
“Not to her,” Mortician pointed out. “You wanted to turn my fucking stomach so I wouldn’t eat the rest of the week.”
“More for my ass, then,” Digger retorted.
“That’s where the fuck all that food goin’,” Outlaw said with a snicker. “Straight to your fuckin’ big ass.”
“Bruh, that’s fucking cold,” Digger said, pointing a chicken bone in Outlaw’s direction.
“Excuse me!” Knox inserted, his smile thin. “As much as I’m enjoying this banter, we want to settle a few things about the wedding.”
“Yeah, Digger. That mean shut the fuck up,” Mortician ordered.
Digger started to say something, but Roxy stood and clapped her hands as a teacher would, to restore order. “Enough, boys!” she called. “Show some manners.”
Digger gave her an under-eyed look. “What that mean?”
“Nothing you would know about, since you never had any class,” Val put in with a snigger.
If she didn’t forge on, shit would get out of hand, so before anybody else made a comment, Roxy looked at Outlaw.
“Mortician is going to be a groom that day, Outlaw,” she started, suddenly nervous. She was having a big wedding where she needed to be given away. At her age. Maybe, asking to be escorted down the aisle was just too fucking much. She could walk her own ass up to the altar. Only Bailey needed to be given away. Ignoring her silly disappointment, she waved her hand and sat back down between Bailey and Bunny. “Don’t worry about it, sugar. It was just a stupid idea I had.”
“It isn’t stupid, Mama!” Bailey cried, turning to Outlaw. “Mama wants you to give her away.”
Instead of answering, Outlaw glared at Roxy. She kept a smile pasted on her face, but his reaction poured even more embarrassment into her. She’d grin and bear his words since she was the one who’d started this.
“I gotta put a fuckin’ monkey suit on to give your fuckin’ ass the fuck away, Roxanne?”
She sagged in relief and expelled a breath. This was only a discussion and she was nervous. How would she be on her wedding day?
Meggie elbowed Outlaw. “You have to wear whatever the bridal party wears, Christopher.”
“I ain’t accepted yet, Megan. Not ‘til my question answered.”
“It’s going to be a formal wedding,” Bailey acknowledged, “so, yes, a tuxedo will be required.”
Outlaw glowered between Roxy and Bailey.
“Sugar, it’s fine,” Roxy said with a laugh, hoping she hid her disappointment. “I don’t need a motherfucker walking me down the aisle. Johnnie, since Bailey asked on my behalf, I’ll ask on hers. Will you walk her down the aisle?”
“Roxanne, babe, how fuckin’ important it be that I walk your fuckin’ ass down the aisle?” Outlaw asked before Johnnie responded.
“She said not to worry about it,” Knox said coolly. “You’ve made your feelings known, so we’re moving on.”
“I ain’t talkin’ to you, motherfucker,” Outlaw snapped, “so shut the fuck up ‘til I do.” He looked at Roxy again. “You really wanna be walked down the aisle, yeah?”
She gave Outlaw a smile that she hoped covered up all the emotions running through her but decided to answer honestly. “I do, sugar.”
He huffed out a breath. “Fuck, fine,” he grouched. “If the shit that important to your fuckin’ ass, I’ll walk you down the fuckin’ aisle.”
“Thank you, sugar.” Roxy decided not to say anything else. Knox didn’t look pleased. Before this sudden turn spiraled into an argument, she let it go.
Bailey grabbed Roxy’s hand and squeezed. Smiling, Roxy nodded to her daughter, telling her without words, that she was fine.
Satisfied, Bailey looked at Johnnie. “Will you give me away?”
“What about me?” Digger called. “I’m not bride-giveaway material. Or Val?”
“Don’t put me in that shit, Digger,” Val warned. “I’m not interested in playing that role.”
“Well, I am,” Digger responded.
“You my best man, fool,” Mortician told him.
Digger grinned. “I can handle that.”
“May I answer Bailey now?” Johnnie asked, glancing around the room. His plastic surgery had left very little evidence that Outlaw had shot him in the cheek. “I would love to give you away, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Johnnie,” Bailey said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Since we like fathers of the fuckin’ brides, that mean we gotta pay, right?” Outlaw asked.
Johnnie shrugged. “I guess so. This will give us a lot of practice for when Matilda and Rebel are married.”
“Rebel ain’t gettin’ married. At least ‘til she about forty,” Outlaw announced.
Meggie rolled her eyes. Obviously, they’d had the discussion before. They talked about everything…unlike Johnnie and Kendall.
That reminded Roxy.
“I’m putting this shit on blast right now,” she said. “Kendall will be part of the ceremony.”
No one said anything, but Outlaw’s face darkened.
Looking for support, Roxy glanced at Meggie. The girl was sharp because she gave Roxy the slightest nod.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea to include her,” Meggie threw out. “She’s still Johnnie’s wife. Still a part of the family.”
When no one responded to Meggie, Zoann looked between Roxy and Bailey. “What are the wedding colors?”
“We still deciding on the colors,” Roxy said.
Bailey nodded. “I want gold and white.”
“I look too washed out in gold, sugar,” Roxy protested. “That’s why I want scarlet and white.”
“Why not both?” Bunny asked. “It could be a very elegant, very regal wedding with the right shades of silver and gold.”
That was an idea. The bridesmaids could alternate in each color in the lineup, as long as the dress styles were the same or similar. It could work.
“We’re talking to Father Wilkins soon,” Bailey said, almost unable to contain her excitement. “We want the ceremony at the church.”
“Fuck me. Not only do I gotta wear a fuckin’ monkey suit, I gotta deal with that lil’ fat motherfucker?” Outlaw asked in outrage. “What the fuck I ever do to you and your Ma, Bailey? Why you puttin’ me through that fuckin’ torture?”
“If there are too ma
ny pitfalls for you to handle, we’d understand if you backed out,” Knox said casually.
Roxy frowned at Knox.
“A-fuckin-gain, Knox, I ain’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you,” Outlaw gritted.
Knox glared at Outlaw, so Roxy decided to intervene.
“Girls, we all need to meet,” she said. “Come up with menus. Set a budget. Look at dress styles.”
“It’s your wedding, sweetheart,” Knox said. “You and Bailey don’t need their input for your big day.”
“Yes, we do,” Roxy answered. “Me and Bailey already talked about it. It’s going to be a big ceremony. We need help.”
“Hire a wedding planner,” he said flatly.
“We don’t want a wedding planner, Knox.” Bailey gave Roxy an uneasy look. “We want a planning committee with the family.”
“Yeah, Knox,” Roxy said in warning. She didn’t like that it sounded as if he was looking for ways to shut everybody out. “A wedding planner would be a waste of time.”
“We also need to plan a bachelorette party,” Zoann chuckled.
“Oh, yeah,” Bailey agreed happily. “Meggie has to plan it.”
Roxy had heard all about the bachelorette party Meggie had planned for Bunny. Strippers and stripper poles and alcohol. Oh, yeah, Meggie could definitely plan the party.
“I’ll be happy to,” Meggie said with a smile.
“That mean you and Mortician get to have a bachelor party, Knox,” Val declared.
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Digger grabbed his beer bottle and swigged from it, then pounded on his chest and belched. “Don’t worry, ladies, we not having too many strippers.”
“Neither will we,” Meggie retorted, earning a scowl from Outlaw.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 460