Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “My father,” Snake snarled. “Your mother.”

  “Megan ain’t my ma.”

  Snake smiled coldly. “No, she’s not. She’s my sister, though, a whore like your mother. Fucking my father because my sister’s fucking mother married a fucking prick and broke my father’s heart.”

  Megan squeaked while an eerie calm settled over Christopher. Somehow, he’d survive and torture Snake when he got his hands on him. He had to survive and get Megan the fuck away. Boss wasn’t screwing his mother. He couldn’t have been. Patricia hadn’t once let on, hadn’t once…Fuck him, that’s why she’d confronted him about killing Big Joe. They’d been lovers.

  “You knew about me all along?” Megan asked, not commenting on anything else.

  Christopher had to stay focused, stay in the present situation. Megan’s life depended on it. He had to get her to shut the fuck up. The less she said, the better for her. As long as she lived, he’d deal with everything else later. At least, she remained behind him, protected from Snake.

  “Didn’t know about you ‘til Rack told me. How the fuck you think I knew where the fuck to find you? Patricia talked to Rack and he got it from her. He’s such a loyal brother. Always keeping in touch, checking on her. She was grieving so bad for my father.”

  Christopher intended to chop Rack into little pieces. He’d used his mother to get intel from her and pass it on to Snake.

  “Now, move, fucker. I want that little bitch you’ve been fucking.”

  Megan laid her head against Christopher’s back, her arms around his waist, holding on for dear life.

  “I swear to fuck, if you don’t move, I’m gonna blow you the fuck away now rather than later.”

  “Then blow me the fuck away. As long as I’m livin’, you ain’t gettin’ my girl.” And she was his girl. She’d been from the moment she’d come searching for Boss, needing the man’s protection.

  Christopher tensed and felt another presence behind him, heard a gun clip snapping into place.

  “You don’t move, Megan’s head gonna be gone,” Rack explained, the words as mild as if he was talking about the fucking clouds.

  Snake smiled. “Your head or hers?”

  He glared at Snake. “Drop your gun, motherfucker, and Ima pull Megan next to me.” He’d keep her against the wall, keep his hand on her shoulder. If bullets started flying, he prayed he could shove her down and, by some miracle, she’d make it.

  Once he had her situated, Snake let his gaze roam over her naked body and Christopher wanted to cover her from the perversion of her brother. Snake rubbed the barrel of the gun against her cheek and Christopher’s heart all but stopped. One wrong move and she’d be dead at his feet.

  “You gonna off your own flesh and blood?”

  “You killed my father, fucker. He was like your flesh and blood and you fucking killed him.” Snake’s blue eyes were wide and wild, crazed. Christopher didn’t care. What he did care about was Megan’s horror as Snake’s words sank in. He took a step toward her. Snake shook the gun against Megan’s head. “Stay!”

  “She ain’t in this life,” he hollered. “She a innocent girl.”

  “Bullshit. She’s your bitch. Fucking the asswipe who murdered our father.”

  Megan shook her head, heedless of the gun pressing into her cheek, staring at Christopher, a silent plea to tell her Snake lied. The hope and denial in her eyes ebbed away in painful clarity, in a way he’d never forget, when Christopher nodded ever so slightly. She cried out, swaying on her feet.

  “She ain’t know,” Christopher gritted. “Let her go. Deal with my ass.”

  What did he have to live for now, anyway? If he had to go by the look on her face, Megan hated him and his mother was dead. If he got her out of the way, he’d lunge for Snake and let the asshole shoot him. Put himself out of his misery.

  “I knew. It don’t matter if she knew. She’s the bitch who got you out that day. She’s loyal to you, not her family.”

  “I killed Boss,” he finally confirmed. “She ain’t. You think I wanted to kill him? A man who was once like a father?”

  The gun shook. “Whether you did or not–”

  “I went to get that girl outta his bed!”

  “If a bitch wanted in his bed–”

  “She was fourteen. Fourteen, Snake. A fuckin’ kid! Despite that. Despite Boss sellin’ us out to that other club and almost ruinin’ us…despite his shootin’ up and snortin’ away our inventory…I ain’t planned to kill him. He pulled his piece first. And, fuck me, I ain’t no monument of goodness, but, if I had to choose between my life and that piece of shit, I would choose me any day.”

  Snake pulled the gun an inch away and studied Christopher. He pumped the barrel. Meggie’s eyes widened as Christopher lunged. The shotgun blasted off, pellets flying everywhere. Christopher jumped on Snake and buried his fist into the man’s face. Blood spurted from his nose. When he slammed his fist into Snake’s mouth, teeth flew out.

  Christopher didn’t need a gun. He was going to beat the asshole to death.

  Something slammed against the side of Christopher’s head. He grabbed his face at the stinging pain, the warmth of his blood seeping down his skin. The last face he saw was Snake’s before he toppled over and darkness overcame him.

  MEGGIE SCREAMED UNTIL SHE LOST her voice, reducing her to pitiful moans. She didn’t know her location, but it was dark, damp, and cold. They’d left her naked and shivers wracked her. Stretched out on a table, her arms were chained above her head and her feet tied up. She tried to keep her back arched, but her neck and spine were hurting. Every time she went lax, pins pricked her skin from the small spikes poking through the table. Her throat was raw and swollen and her only company were competing images of Christopher on the floor of his mother’s house, bleeding from a head wound, and that of his mother. Dead.

  A sob escaped her again, remembering Snake’s hateful words. That Christopher killed her—their—father. Christopher had killed her daddy.

  She moaned, pain and betrayal cutting her deeply. Christopher was one of them, a violent biker, a man who lived on the fringes of society and allowed nothing to get in his way. Because of that, his mother was dead, she was going to be killed, and…and he’d lost his life, too.

  Another wretched sob fell from her lips. They were all dead. Her father, Patricia and Christopher. She twisted again and tried to scream at the agony in her body. She had to get to him. He had to be okay. She needed to know what type of vile man would kill her father. She had to tell him about the baby. The one he’d wanted her to have for him. He’d said he couldn’t ask for a better man than Big Joe’s genes to be in his offspring when, all along, he’d known he killed him.

  “God! Oh God!”

  Sudden light hurt her eyes and Meggie heard footsteps, but she didn’t care, too worn out to focus on who was walking in. She wished they’d killed her the way they’d finished the others.

  Snake came into her line of sight, his long blond hair and blue eyes giving him an almost angelic look, despite his battered face. She shivered, her fear making her dizzy. What would they do to her before they killed her? She had an innocent baby inside of her but they wouldn’t care. Her innocent little baby would die before it got a chance to take its first breath outside her body. Inside her, it was supposed to be safe.

  One by one, an army of men surrounded her, like specters from hell, all staring at her naked body, leering at her. Even Snake, her brother. And…and Val. Oh God! Did honor exist anywhere? Christopher considered Val one of his best friends. And he’d betrayed him. Betrayed the club.

  To avenge Boss. This war had started because Christopher had killed Big Joe.

  Nausea roiled in her belly and she twisted against her restraints. The men were still, not making a move or a sound.

  “Please,” she croaked, the word a bare whisper, pushed out from her dry mouth.

  “Megan.”

  She closed her eyes at the sound of Rack’s smug voice. She hadn’t
noticed him, too busy reeling from Val’s presence, too busy considering whose side she should be on. Not that it mattered. She was in Christopher’s bed, so they considered her a traitor to her daddy. To them. Rack cupped her feminine mound. He squeezed and she moaned like a wounded animal. Because her feet were tied together, she didn’t have a lot of room to open her thighs, but he managed to dig his thick fingers into her.

  He gestured to the other men and a couple of them stepped forward, groping her breasts and pinching her nipples. She’d begun to hallucinate because, for the briefest second, she’d imagine seeing black fury in Val’s face. She thought his fists had balled and he’d stepped towards Rack. But, no, her vision was wavering and her mind disconnecting, so his almost interception had just been an illusion. She let out a soundless scream and her arms felt as if they were going to pop from their joints. Rack pushed his fingers further into her and she thought she just might die from the pain.

  Through her dizziness, she prayed for all of them. Everything she felt for Christopher—had felt for him—grew inside her. If any of them had an inkling of her pregnancy, they’d beat the baby out of her.

  “Enough.”

  Meggie never thought she’d welcome the sound of her brother’s voice, but his hard command was the best word she’d ever heard. She turned her head toward Snake, sending him a silent plea. He stared at her, hard and intense, a range of emotions crossing his face.

  “Bring in the other two,” he ordered, turning his back on her.

  If Meggie could’ve made any sound, she would’ve screamed her head off again when Kiera and Ellen were marched in, naked and bloodied, their hair in tangles. They were jerked to the foot of the contraption Meggie was strapped to. The fear in their eyes increased hers.

  Snake came to her, gun in hand. “Pity we didn’t meet under different circumstances. I think we could’ve been friends. But seeing as how your lover killed my father, I’d just as soon piss on you.” He leaned closer. “That shit Outlaw said? About Dad’s problems? They were all true. But Dad trusted him more than he trusted me. He wouldn’t have threatened Outlaw’s life. That was a crock of shit.”

  Meggie shook her head wildly.

  Snake waved his gun. “You get to choose, Megan.” He tipped the gun toward Kiera and Ellen. “Which bitch lives and which one dies.”

  Her breath came in shorts pants, her stomach churning, this nightmare growing in horror.

  “Who, Megan? ‘Cause if you don’t choose one, then both of them die.”

  Who was she to be judge and jury and make such a decision? Besides regular female cattiness, these women never did anything to her. “Don’t. Please. Don’t hurt either one of them. They’ve never done anything to me.” She let out a desperate sob. “Please.”

  Rack slapped her across her cheek and her ears rang, her head snapping back.

  “I’m losing patience,” Snake snarled, pressing the barrel into Ellen’s temple.

  “I’ll see you shortly in hell, fuckers,” Ellen snarled. “No way you’re gonna fucking continue breathing and doing this to Outlaw’s girl.”

  “Ellen, no!” Meggie said. “Don’t provoke them.”

  Ellen turned resigned eyes to Meggie, a small nod matching the weary smile. And Meggie knew. It didn’t matter who she chose. Either way, they’d all die.

  Ellen spat in Snake’s face. “Nothing she says is gonna save us, so fuck you.”

  Before Meggie blinked, Snake pulled the trigger. Terror crossed Kiera’s features before Snake shot her, too.

  “No!” In her mind, Meggie screamed the word. In reality, it was mouthed, drowned out by the gunfire, two quick shots. Blood and bone fragment sprayed everywhere as Kiera and Ellen dropped, dead before they hit the ground.

  Meggie turned her head, the bile bubbling up and gurgling from her mouth. Snake leaned over her and freed her hands.

  He smiled, unperturbed by the gruesome evidence of his kills on his clothes, skin, and hair. “I have one more present for you, little sister. You get to watch Outlaw breathe his last.” He snickered. “If he hasn’t already.”

  CHRISTOPHER AWOKE TO DARKNESS, THE smell of wood and dirt suffusing him with every breath he took. He tried to turn to the side, but couldn’t. He tried to sit up but his hand felt wood. His lungs tightened in the heavy, moldy air.

  He couldn’t get his bearings, the lack of light disorienting. He rifled through his mind in a frantic search and memories barreled back. His mother was dead. All he’d done to protect her and keep her out of harm’s way was for nothing. He’d brought it to her door and she’d paid the ultimate price.

  With a roar of anguish, he punched out blindly. The wood splintered and a patch of dirt rained onto him.

  Dirt?

  Dirt. Fucking dirt. No. No.

  He slid his fingers along the top, since it was almost impossible to move his arms at his sides. He stretched out a foot, encountered more wood. And he knew. He fucking knew. He was buried. Jesus. Fucking. God.

  Jesus. If anyone knew of his unreasonable fear of being buried alive, it was Snake.

  Sweat popped out on Christopher and he drew in sharp breaths, growing lightheaded. The air shrunk and his lungs burned. He would’ve preferred Rack’s torture table in the fucking shed at the compound. They could’ve stretched him until they pulled him apart. They could’ve cut little pieces out of him until he bled to death. Fuck, they could’ve hacked big chunks from his body.

  But buried alive?

  He had no chance of survival. He’d used up half his fucking air panicking like a pussy. At most, he had ninety minutes of oxygen and he had no idea how long he’d been in this death pit.

  Megan’s gorgeous face came to him and he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath and holding it as long as possible. He wondered if she’d been thrown in another hole and, if so, had she been alive. He couldn’t imagine his sweet, innocent Megan facing such a horrible end. Just the thought made him want to puke.

  He shivered, cold inside and out, naked as the day he’d made his entrance into this cruel, vicious world. What a curse that day had been. His mother had given birth to her killer. He hadn’t pulled the trigger but he might as well had. He’d stayed away from her to protect her, but Megan made him think of family, gave him a conscience. Now, they were both dead.

  “God-fuckin-dammit!” he exploded.

  Something banged against the lid and Christopher stilled, listening intently, sucking back his grief and rage. He counted to sixty, heard the noise again. Digging?

  He heard voices, so he was nearly disinterred. They mustn’t have buried him very deeply. So fucking what? He didn’t give a fuck any longer. His mother was gone and so was Megan, a girl he’d come closer to loving than he’d had any other woman. A girl who’d been so full of life, so full of promise. So full of love.

  The lid opened and Christopher was yanked out. A flashlight shone in his face and he squinted, off-balance and stiff. Just as suddenly, the light was pulled away, flickering on four faces, one of whom almost made him drop to his knees.

  Megan.

  She was trembling, her hair matted to her, blood and gore spattered on her.

  He pulled his gaze away, unable to see anything but fear. Not hate or relief or love. He curled his lip at Rack, wishing he had a weapon on him.

  Finally, Snake stood close to him, gloating, triumphant. Christopher was going to die but not without attempting to save his Megan. He knew their pieces were a flicker away. Taking a deep breath, he crashed into Snake, screaming, “Run, Megan!”

  He didn’t have time to see if she listened as he and her brother landed hard on the ground. Christopher smashed his fists into Snake’s face, again and again, taking out his rage and grief, satisfied at the crack of the man’s nose and the cloud of blood. He grabbed his head and bashed it into the ground…once, twice, three times before Snake stilled.

  Turning and expecting to have to fight off Rack, he took a moment to take in Val holding a gun to Rack’s head. He nodded to Va
l, giving him the go ahead to blow Rack away. He pulled Snake’s gun from his waistband, stood over him and pumped all but two into his head. He hadn’t heard any other gunfire, which meant he might still have to shoot Val’s ass off along with Rack’s. He turned, the gun pointed at Val. He hadn’t heard from the motherfucker in weeks. For all he knew, he was with them.

  “I figured you’d want to do him,” the man said quietly. “He had his fingers all in your old lady’s pussy.”

  “Tight, dry little–”

  Rack didn’t finish his words. Christopher shut him up with a bullet between the eyes. He only dropped his weapon when Val walked forward and handed Christopher the gun, butt first.

  “Call in Mortician and Digger,” he instructed. “I’m goin’ find Megan.”

  “You have nothing on.”

  Christopher scowled, his head pounding from the blow he’d taken earlier. “You think I ain’t fuckin’ knowin’ my dick’s swingin’ in the wind?”

  “She ran to the truck.” Val nodded in that direction. “Go wait there until Mortician and Digger get here with the equipment.”

  Christopher clenched his jaw and started forward.

  “Yo, Outlaw?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Kiera and Ellen, man…Snake popped ‘em right in front your girl.”

  Later. He’d break down later. There’d been too much collateral damage tonight and all innocent women. He gave Snake’s corpse a vicious kick.

  “Your young bitch. Go see about her. We have to wait here ‘til the boys get here.”

  Without a word, Christopher brushed past Val and headed to Megan, wondering what he’d find. A locked door wasn’t what he expected, although he should have. He leaned against the glass and saw her sitting in the backseat, staring into space and trembling, hugging her arms around her stomach.

  “Open the door, Megan.”

  She didn’t move, didn’t even blink. Christopher banged on the glass.

  “MEGAN! It’s me. Christopher.”