Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “You ate already?”

  “Something like that,” he answered, then quickly changed the subject. He rarely ever ate any place but home if she wasn’t with him. “Where the kids, baby?” The house was very fucking quiet, the biggest clue him and Megan was alone.

  “CJ, Rory, Lou and Ryan are with Fee, Cash, and Stretch. Rebel is at Bailey’s with Matilda and Harley, and the rest of the kids are at Bunny and Digger’s house.

  She leaned against the counter, across from him. “We have the house to ourselves,” she announced with a saucy little wink.

  His dick twitched.

  Motherfucker was un-fucking-believable. For several hours, he’d given Christopher signs that he was wrecked. Ruined. All Megan had to do was hint at giving him her pussy and it was trying to stand up.

  After the trauma his cock had suffered, how was that even possible?

  He couldn’t think of a motherfucking thing to say. He certainly couldn’t say, yeah, come the fuck on, hop in my lap and ride my cock.

  At his silence, she gave him a curious look. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re flushed and a little warm.”

  “Just hot, baby. Central heat doin’ its job.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Heat isn’t on.”

  Fuck, of course the motherfucker wasn’t. He couldn’t be that fucking lucky.

  “You don’t look well,” she insisted.

  He wasn’t feeling fucking well, either. But he needed to call Knox and see if he’d gotten all the surveillance equipment put up in Kendall’s house.

  He supposed he’d have to build another safe house for Megan and his kids. The one Kendall was living in would be sold as soon as he got rid of her. Too many motherfuckers knew of its existence. He had to have a place for his family if the club’s grounds were ever compromised.

  He also needed to call Emily and make sure she was ready to kick shit off.

  Seeing as how he was keeping so much else from her, he supposed he should tell her about the surgery.

  Maybe, if Megan agreed with him about how to take revenge on Kendall, he’d clue her in…No. She had too much of a soft heart. She wouldn’t want Kendall gaslighted.

  Christopher sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I gotta talk to you, Megan.”

  Immediately, she snapped to attention and slid into the seat next to him. “What’s going on?”

  “I was thinkin’ about how much I like you filled with my kid. I kinda miss seein’ you so round and full of me.” He shrugged. “I been regrettin’ my dick snip.”

  Shock crossed her features and she shifted in her seat. “I, um, I don’t know what to say.” She cleared her throat, then bit her lip.

  Warning bells went off in his head. “Tell me what the fuck you thinkin’.”

  “When you first decided to get your vasectomy, I was crushed. Then, I ended up being pregnant and…and…I came to terms with the fact that Ransom would be the last baby I’d give birth to. I—I started exercising and…and…you know I’m in really good shape now.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t want to be pregnant again.”

  A feather could’ve knocked his ass the fuck over at her announcement.

  “We have five children.”

  “We woulda had fifty of them lil motherfuckers if I ain’t got my snip.”

  She stood from her seat and stepped closer to him. “I love you,” she whispered. “I’m going to be fine. You can’t keep me barefoot and pregnant for me to stay safe.”

  He scowled. He could never get one over on her. “What the fuck you mean, Megan?”

  “I mean, Christopher, you think I’ll remain at home if I’m pregnant. As long as I’m home, I won’t be in danger of kidnap.”

  “What if I say I wanna do a dick snip flip?”

  She pulled away and stared at him, a frown creasing her brow. “A vasectomy reversal?” she squeaked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’d get on birth control.”

  Frustration filled him, and he huffed out a breath. “Then wherever the fuck you go, you gotta have a detail. Case fuckin’ closed.”

  She shook her head. “When I was rotting away in the place Mystic had me, I told myself I’d never decline security again. But then he wins. He’s making me live my life in fear. I like not having the guys dog my steps. Every place I go, they are right on my heels. It can be overwhelming, especially when I have to buy feminine stuff.”

  Christopher squinted at her. “What the fuck that mean? They ain’t lettin’ you buy your pussy plugs by yourself?”

  “No. And if they see someone on the outs with the club, they insist on paying for my stuff, including my tampons. I don’t like that.”

  He didn’t either. If he wasn’t buying them for her, no other motherfucker should. He’d have to take care of that and make sure that never happened a-fucking-gain. That fuckeduppedness had made Megan dig her heels in about not having escorts. Rage bubbled inside of him.

  “Suppose I get the snip, you get on birth con-fuckin-trol, and we see what the fuck happen?” he pressed.

  “No. I don’t want you going through that pain again.”

  Too motherfucking, goddamn late. He forced a smile. “It ain’t nothin’ but a thing, Megan.”

  “I’m worried that if you get a reversal, the birth control will fail and I’ll get pregnant anyway. I would die for our children, but five kids are…it’s a lot sometimes. I don’t feel as if I give you enough time because I’m distracted by our sons and daughter. Then, I worry you’ll complain about how much money I spend on them.”

  “Megan, I get in your pussy at least two times a fuckin day. We have dinner together and we tuck the kids in together. You make a point to spend time with me every fuckin’ night in the den and we talk and laugh and shit. Ain’t no way in fuckin’ hell you ignore me.”

  She studied his face before her eyes brightened and she nodded.

  He took her in his arms again and kissed the top of her head. “You love lil babies.”

  “I do,” she agreed, laying her head against his chest. He threaded his fingers through her hair. “But having too many kids would also limit the time I have with each of them.”

  “Megan…”

  She stole a kiss from him. “Didn’t the doctor mention something about a failure rate? If, for any reason, your vasectomy fails and I end up pregnant, I’d be happy and I’d love that baby as I do each of our other kids. Let’s not actively try to get me pregnant, though.”

  “Ima talk to the new motherfuckers on your detail. Tell them to give you space but still keep a eye on you. Ain’t no fuckin’ reason motherfuckers should be buyin’ your tampons. Why the fuck you didn’t tell me that was the problem?”

  “I didn’t want you to shoot anyone.”

  And motherfuckers woulda got shot.

  He grunted, arranging the confession in his head that he’d had the procedure already. Words fucking failed him. Of-fucking-course, she’d discover it on her own when it came time to fuck.

  To curtail that, maybe, he needed to purposely piss her off…?

  They were above such bullshit. Weren’t they? Their relationship worked so well because they talked to each other. Although, usually, they were on the same fucking page. He didn’t know what to do now. This was so important.

  She came to him and stood between his thighs. He winced at how the slight movement sent pain tearing through him.

  She lifted a brow. Before she had a chance to speak, he bent and kissed her.

  “I love you, baby,” he said.

  She placed her arms around his neck. “I know,” she murmured. “And I love you. So much. I just want to be the wife you deserve.”

  Shaking his head, he took her face between his hands. “Baby, don’t start with this fuckin’ bullshit a-fuckin-gain.”

  “Oh, Christopher,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to worry about me and I’m so sorry for being difficult and selfish and…” She stepped back and wiped at the sudden tears slipping down her c
heeks. “I don’t know what to do…I didn’t know what to do. I talked to Roxy today and she thinks I should have the guards. Now, hearing you tell me you’d get a vasectomy reversal…omigod, Christopher!” She sniffled. “I’m so sorry to have put you through such worry. There’s no way I’d have you go through that pain when the solution is so simple. I mean I’m scared anyway. No matter how I try, I can’t get over that fear. And…and I did feel safer with the detail. I was so wrong. Can you ever forgive me? I’ll have my detail again,” she announced and launched herself into his arms, burying her face against his chest.

  Meanwhile, his cock ached, his balls throbbed, and his stomach heaved.

  And his Megan, his pain-in-the-ass little motherfucker, decided to get her detail back because he fucking offered to have his dick snip flip.

  Well, fuck.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When Johnnie arrived at Kendall’s house, he found the front door ajar. That alone concerned him. Even at their house on club grounds, she never left her door open.

  Frowning, his heart speeding in worry and agitation, Johnnie drew his Glock and stepped inside. “Kendall!”

  No answer.

  “Kendall!” he called again, his insides spasming at all the different scenarios running through his head. He tightened his finger on the trigger, prepared to fire.

  God…if something happened to her…Shit!

  “Kendall!” His voice shook with urgency.

  But…nothing. No sound. No movement. No eerie feel of someone else’s presence.

  Rushing from room-to-room on the first floor, he found it clear, so he returned to the entry hall, turned in a circle, then glanced up the winding staircase.

  “Who the fuck is in this fucking house?” he yelled in frustration, aiming his Glock. “Show yourself and pay with your fucking life.”

  Nothing, just as before.

  He pounded up the stairs, deciding he’d employ Christopher’s tactics—shoot and bury the motherfucker. No need for torture. Just an easy dispatching of the fuckhead who’d terrorized his wife.

  Johnnie searched the bedrooms, the bathrooms, the closets—any place someone might hide. Still…nothing. No one. Not even a sign anyone else, besides Kendall, had been here, other than that open door.

  Did that mean whoever had been in the house got away after Kendall left? Perhaps, in her quest to leave, she’d forgotten to close the door. Overcome with fear for her safety and unease at the entire story, Johnnie paused on the second floor landing.

  Holstering his gun, he rubbed the back of his neck as another thought invaded him. Kendall had sworn someone was there; she didn’t have the best track record for honesty, however. She could have lied to get him there. Yet the fear Johnnie had heard in her voice had been real. She’d left her alarm on and it was off when she returned.

  “FUCK!” Johnnie roared, as he drew yet another conclusion, this one more harrowing than the others.

  Christopher had been in the house. Possibly, he’d hidden himself to ambush and kill Kendall.

  “Johnnie?”

  Her shaky voice traveled to him from the first floor. She must’ve been nearby and saw his Navigator in her driveway.

  “I’m here, Kendall,” he said on a bleak sigh and made his way downstairs.

  She stood in the center of the entry hall, wearing the barest makeup, her hair piled high on her head. She’d never needed much. Without makeup, she was still a perfect beauty. Her lacy pencil skirt and black blouse hugged her curves, made her look elegant, professional, and gorgeous.

  Fear—real, true, and genuine—shone in her lovely brown eyes.

  Not wanting to alarm her, Johnnie decided to keep what he suspected happened to himself. Telling her that Christopher was hunting her served no purpose.

  “It’s all clear, sweetheart,” he said gently, his mind racing.

  The situation cornered him and left his hands tied. Unless he packed his bags and took Kendall and their kids away. Christopher wouldn’t leave Megan to follow Johnnie and Kendall to wherever. Nor would he send another club member to do his bidding in this instance. Not only was it too personal, but the club supposedly didn’t kill women.

  Supposedly being the key word. Kendall had committed the cardinal sin and fucked with Megan. Johnnie doubted Christopher would be as outraged over CJ—if not for Megan’s kidnapping.

  “J-Johnnie?” Kendall whispered. “What is it? What are you thinking about?”

  “Club business,” he blurted, an automatic response he’d learned to give her when he didn’t want to share his thoughts.

  She nodded, started forward, and then stopped, waiting for his encouragement.

  Yet he couldn’t give it to her. As badly as he wanted to. As much as he needed to. If only he could take her in his arms and love her. Feel her warmth and vitality, and know that she was alive.

  He couldn’t make that move or encourage her to do so for the same reason he wasn’t rushing her to pack up so they could escape tonight. He hadn’t figured out if he could continue on in their marriage. He didn’t want to lead her on and he didn’t want to take advantage of her.

  Lifting her chin at his rejection, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “I don’t know who could’ve been in here. Or, maybe, it was my imagination?” she asked with hope.

  “I don’t think it was merely your imagination,” he told her, deciding on a partial truth. He took his Glock in hand, put the safety on, then held it out to her. “Keep it near you at all times.”

  Nodding, she grabbed the gun from him, then met and held his gaze. “I won’t hesitate to shoot, Johnnie.”

  “I know.”

  “Then you’re giving me permission to shoot him?”

  He lifted a brow. “Shoot who?”

  “Don’t be asinine,” she sniffed. “Outlaw. We both know it was him who was in this house.”

  Johnnie winced and started to speak.

  “Don’t,” she interrupted. “You don’t want to kill him but you’d see no problem if someone else did.”

  “That isn’t true!” he snapped. “This is part of the problem, Kendall. You believe the things I do are for completely different reasons than what I actually intend them to be. I don’t want Christopher dead, by your hand or my own. I do want you safe.”

  “Safe?” she asked in disbelief, then held up the gun. “Safe? If it is Outlaw who broke into here and does so again, what then? If I point a weapon at him, either I have to fire, or die myself.”

  Scowling, Johnnie snatched the Glock from her and shoved it away. “Do you have to make a fucking argument out of everything? I always have your best interest in mind with all that I do.”

  “I doubt that,” she spat. “Shooting Outlaw is a moot point anyway. I’m no longer in possession of the gun.”

  He huffed out a breath. “Don’t ignore the fucking issue. Address the subject. I want to hear what you have to say.”

  She shook her head, stubborn as usual. “I’m moving on from the conversation,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “How was your day?” she asked, folding her arms as if daring him to challenge her change of subject.

  He wanted to clear the air between them, have the conversation that laid everything on the line. But he knew it wouldn’t be tonight. As usual, she wanted her way and was digging her heels in. Fuck, but she was childish and annoying.

  He drew in a deep breath to calm himself, deciding to find something positive in the conversation. Besides, if he wanted to be completely honest, her question pleased him. She seldom asked about his day. “It was long,” he admitted.

  “Meggie invited me to the family dinner tomorrow,” she told him, not commenting on his answer, as if it didn’t matter to her and had only served her own selfish purposes. “If you don’t want me there, I’ll stay home.”

  “I have no problem with you being there, sweetheart,” he said gruffly, hating her uncertainty. That same primitive feeling of possession and the need to protect her returned. He wanted
to take her in his arms and shield her, kiss her from head-to-toe and lose himself in the ecstasy of her body. But they needed more than a physical relationship. They needed openness and honesty. They needed trustworthiness. “Even if I did, Megan invited you. It isn’t my house. All I ask is that you leave CJ alone.”

  A guilty look crossed her face. “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t like that child.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure I won’t see him, Johnnie. He’ll be too busy playing with the other kids. Besides, I’ll have a chance to spend more time with Rory, Matilda, and JJ.”

  “Right. Focus on our children. Don’t concern yourself with what CJ does.”

  She nodded, then shifted and clasped her hands together. “I haven’t eaten,” she said. “Have you? I have leftover black bean salad. Enough for both of us.”

  “Sounds delicious,” Johnnie said, meaning it. “I’m starving, so your offer is quite welcome.”

  She glanced at him through her lashes. “I’d like to offer you something else.”

  His cock perked at the thought of taking Kendall, but his brain rebelled. “Let’s stick to dinner and drinks tonight.”

  “Of course,” she said coolly, then brushed past him.

  “Kendall,” he said, following behind her.

  Stopping, she stiffened her shoulders, but didn’t turn. “Yes?”

  “I want to have dinner with you. Enjoy your company, but I’m not dealing with your damn attitude. Either get over the fact I’m not fucking you tonight, or I leave.”

  Though she remained silent, with her back still to him, she seemed to wilt. Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. A subdued Kendall was a new concept.

  “Our food will be on the table in ten minutes.” She walked away.

  Sighing in frustration, Johnnie followed behind her. In the kitchen, she was pulling a glass bowl out of the refrigerator.

  “No protest to my words? I expected at least a discussion. Instead, you want to keep me guessing at your thoughts?”

  Setting the bowl on the counter, she faced him. “What do you want me to say, Johnnie? No, what do you want from me? If I respond, I’m a problem. If I don’t respond, I’m a problem. Basically, in your eyes, I’m just a problem.”