Megan elbowed Thomas, struggling against his hold.
“Keep fucking still!”
No. Never. He loosened his grip slightly and Meggie’s elbow came down harder. He grunted but her action momentarily shocked him and he let her go. Meggie screamed at the top of her lungs, kicking his groin.
“You little bitch.” He used his favorite technique—a backhand—and Meggie fell to the ground.
He dragged her to her feet. Footsteps ran toward them, and she struggled more. She couldn’t allow Thomas to take her anywhere.
“Your bitch of a ma always loved you more than she loved me,” Thomas breathed. “Always wanting you around. And your fucking man should’ve killed me when he had the chance if he wanted to keep me away from you.”
Meggie had the briefest glint of the blade arcing toward her chest and thrusting. She screamed, a burning pain slicing through her. “My baby,” she cried, falling to her knees.
“Megan!”
Mortician called her, she thought dizzily. A gunshot. Thomas hollered.
Gripping the handle of the knife, blackness swirling around her, Meggie pulled. Blood dripped from the blade and she let out a sob, feeling her life draining away.
Meggie shoved it toward the wavering mass of her stepfather. “That’s for my mother.” She wanted to spit the words. Instead, she gasped them.
She heard another gunshot, another scream from her stepfather, before the darkness claimed her and she heard no more.
CHRISTOPHER COMPARED HIS WATCH WITH the digital clock on the nightstand. Megan had been gone 28 minutes if he wanted to go by those red numbers. He didn’t. According to his watch, she’d been gone 29 minutes and 34.13 seconds. If she wasn’t back in 25.47 seconds, he intended to ride to that minifuckinmart and drag her ass back to the room.
He paced, his gut telling him something wasn’t right. He knew her. She might do her best to test him, but she never purposely worried him. She knew motherfuckers got hurt that way, and she did her absolute best to keep him calm so there would be no unnecessary blood spilled.
“Time’s fuckin’ up,” he growled. “You wait here, Digger. If I miss her some kinda way and she gets back without me, tell her I ain’t happy.”
“Slack up, bro,” Digger said with a laugh. “She was pissed. Let ‘er cool off.”
“Megan ain’t supposed to be out there alone.”
“She lived on the street a whole month alone and we took care of Thomas Nicholls.”
“We left him breathin’,” Christopher muttered. “I don’t fuckin’ consider that takin’ care of him.”
“He can’t be that much of a stupid motherfucker,” Digger reasoned. “And if you notice Meggie not frightened–”
“Why the fuck she scared when she know she got protection?”
“She can take care of herself, so what you sweating her for? I never seen you act like this behind no bitch.”
Christopher drew in a deep breath. Digger was right, but, shit, he ain’t never felt like this about no bitch. “She pregnant.”
“For you?”
Christopher slapped him on the side of the head. “Yeah, asswipe. Who the fuck you think for?”
“Damn, man. All I’m saying is I thought you always kept your shit covered. Didn’t think I’d ever see a little you running round.”
Christopher glared at him.
“I understand your worry,” Digger said with a laugh, raising his hands. “If I was you, I’d get a better handle on my old lady. Feel me, bro?”
“Megan fine just how she fuckin’ is. Don’t wanna change one hair on her head.”
“That must mean you going to keep her.”
That’s what Megan wanted, Christopher knew. Fuck. That’s what he wanted. She gave him all sorts of ideas. He’d buy a house near the club. He intended to sell the house in Long Beach. Though it was his, everything about it reminded him of his mother. That shit wouldn’t fly.
House or not, Megan could come to the club whenever she wanted. He’d never bar her. They could even keep a crib there for the baby. Shit could work out. No, shit would work out. He didn’t have his mother anymore, but he had Megan and she loved him for him.
Whatever she wanted was hers. Whatever.
His heart twisted. Except leaving the club. Call him a selfish fuck, but this was his life and he couldn’t give it up.
Someone banged on the door, hard enough to shake the shitty frame. That same awful feeling came back in his gut.
“Who is it?” Digger called.
“It’s Johnnie and Mortician,” Johnnie called, the trembling words making Christopher’s heart drop. “Open the fucking door.”
By the time Johnnie had the words out, Digger had already swung it open. It took a moment for Christopher to process the blood on Mortician, a moment longer for him to realize where the blood was coming from. Megan. Limp and pale in Johnnie’s arms. No, limp, pale, and bloody.
No. Not that either. Limp, pale, bloody, and pregnant for Christopher.
Bile rose to his throat and he staggered back.
Johnnie shoved her into Christopher’s arms. “We have an ambulance coming for her. I hope they make it in time,” he rasped. “We have the fucker. None of the usual suspects. Big fuck. Never seen him in my life.”
Even now, the blare of sirens cut through the night. Within moments, EMTs and police officers were swarming the small room, pulling his beautiful Megan out of his arms and laying her lifeless body onto a stretcher.
“Go with her,” Mortician ordered. “We got this covered.”
Christopher didn’t argue. He just nodded and followed behind as Megan was hustled into the back of an ambulance.
“WE CAN FINISH THE FUCKER,” Val swore, two hours later.
They were all crowded in the waiting room at the hospital. Johnnie had called everyone to report what was going on and they’d come running to support Christopher. Megan was in surgery, hanging on by a thread. The doctors hadn’t mentioned the baby but he couldn’t help but wonder if her blood loss had somehow affected it.
Christopher was losing his fucking mind with each passing minute. If he didn’t get the fuck away, he was going to fuck something up. He pulled out his smokes and lit one up, the nicotine not calming him at all. He released the smoke through his nose, daring one of them nurse bitches to say anything. The security guards had teamed up, two standing nearby. They must’ve called in backup because, every five minutes, two other dickheads marched by, hands on their weapons, glaring at all of them.
Christopher drew in another drag, staring down the fuckheads as more smoke poured from his nostrils.
Zoann was also on duty. Instead of offering him any type of comfort because his girl lay close to fucking death with his baby inside her, his sister had just stared at him, the look on her face taunting him with the knowledge he ruined everything he touched. Cunt.
“You stay with Megs. Val’s right. We got this.”
Christopher shook his head at his cousin. “He mine,” he swore.
“He won’t last much longer,” Johnnie said with a shrug. “If he’s still alive now. He has two slugs in him along with the superficial wound Megs gave him.”
“Megan what?” Christopher asked, shocked.
“She jerked that fucker’s knife out of her chest and stuck him in his fat belly.” Mortician laughed. “She said this is for my mother.”
“God,” Christopher snarled, the pieces falling into place. “Her fuckin’ stepfather.”
“Shit,” Johnnie said grimly. “Listen, Outlaw. I know how you’re feeling–”
“You do?” he sneered, throwing the cigarette on the floor and smashing it beneath his boot. “How I feel, John Boy? My girl almost dead with my kid in her belly? How the fuck I feel?”
“Like you want to take the fucker out. But not right now. She needs you here.”
“Accordin’ to Val if I wait much longer, he a dead fuck. I ain’t gonna be able to ever make him suffer the way I wanna.”
&nbs
p; Christopher was already turning, heading for the exit. This was just another fucking example of why he wasn’t no good for Megan. Nothing should’ve pulled him from the place until he knew whether she’d live or die. He just wasn’t that type of man, though. He was on the verge of going ape-shit crazy if he just stood the fuck around, picturing how small and lifeless she looked.
He clenched his jaw, the cool night air hitting him. Boots pounded behind him and he glanced over his shoulder. Digger and Val were on his heels.
“Here,” Digger said, throwing a set of keys to him. “Johnnie said to take his ride.”
Christopher nodded, but didn’t speak.
“She’s a strong chick,” Val said quietly. “And she loves you. I heard you and Johnnie talking about the baby. If that’s true, then she’s gonna fight double-hard. You gotta just believe that.”
He didn’t respond to what Val said. Just gave instructions. “Digger, I need a grave. Usual spot.”
“Live body or dead ass?”
“Ain’t sure yet,” he admitted. “Just get it fuckin’ ready.”
MEGGIE GAZED AROUND IN HAZY confusion, listening to the steady beeps and the low hum of conversation. Fatigue filled Christopher’s voice and she frowned, trying to make sense of what was going on.
The antiseptic smell of a hospital filtered in her head. Her body felt heavy. It took her a moment but everything came rushing back and she attempted to sit up. Thomas had attacked her, tried his best to kill her. He’d probably already gotten to her mom and was somewhere waiting for her, too. She groaned.
Abruptly, the talking ceased.
“Megan?”
“Christopher,” she squeaked in response. He placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. “I need to…Thomas did this. I have to get to my mother. He’s probably already hurt her.” Her chest throbbed as bad as the hand holding the IV catheter. And God… “The baby!”
“Shhh,” Christopher soothed, leaning over and kissing her forehead. “The baby fine. Your ma, too. She downstairs in the cafeteria.”
“But Thomas–”
“Ain’t gonna bother a motherfuckin’ person ever again,” he finished.
“Don’t worry about that right now, Megs,” Johnnie said from her other side.
Looking at the fierceness in Christopher’s eyes, Meggie decided she wouldn’t ever ask about Thomas’s fate.
“I ain’t ever lettin’ you out my fuckin’ sight,” he said. “You were in surgery for fuckin’ hours. Don’t ever–”
“Christopher, maybe, we should get a nurse in here to check her out,” Johnnie suggested.
“Yeah,” Christopher agreed. “Go ahead. Press the button.”
ALTHOUGH DINAH AND MEGGIE CRIED upon seeing each other, it wasn’t a real happy reunion. Despite Christopher’s reassurances that Thomas was no longer a threat, Dinah wanted details. She wanted to know how Christopher could be so certain when not even the police were. Meggie’s attempted murder was listed as an open and active case with Thomas being classified as a violent fugitive, possibly armed.
Meggie knew Thomas was dead. She had vague memories of gunshots and stabbing her stepfather. Perhaps, that had been enough to kill him and Christopher had merely disposed of the body. She shivered at the thought and wrapped her arms around her belly, thankful she hadn’t lost Christopher’s baby.
“I need to know,” Dinah insisted. “If you know where Thomas is, tell me.”
Meggie glowered at her mother, wishing she’d left with Christopher and Johnnie. “Does it matter, Momma?” she snapped. “I hope he’s burning in hell.”
“Is he dead?” she gasped as the hospital room door opened.
“Do you really care? He beat the crap out of you. He tried to kill me. Just as bad was the way he groped me as much as he could.”
“What the fuck?”
Meggie ignored Christopher’s growl and kept her narrowed focus on her pale-faced, trembling mother. Nausea roiled in Meggie’s belly, the taste of medicine drying her mouth. Her head pounded and she felt like crap in general. “Would you just grow a pair?”
“A pair of what?” Dinah asked.
How could this woman be an assistant principal? Shouldn’t she be a little more in touch with reality?
“Calm the fuck down, Megan,” Christopher warned.
“I love you, Momma, but you need to get a spine. Thomas took everything away from you. All your self-worth. Your pride. He’s gone now. Where? I don’t know and I don’t care. But get over it. Grow a pair of balls and move on.”
Amusement danced in Christopher’s eyes and he shook his head. Dinah, on the other hand, just looked defeated and wilted.
“Just tell–”
“Look, lady, you workin’ on my last fuckin’ nerve botherin’ Megan with this whiny bullshit.” Before either of them could say anything, he scooped Dinah around the waist and carried her to the door. When he opened it, he said, “Take her to the club. Don’t let a fucker bother her. But she upsettin’ Megan and that shit ain’t flyin’.”
Meggie couldn’t see who Christopher spoke to. He reached the side of the bed, bent and brushed his lips over hers, before dropping into a chair.
“That is my mother.”
“It could be your granny. I don’t give a fuck. The bit…” He scowled at her look. “She was gettin’ you all worked up. Ain’t happenin’.”
Meggie sighed. “I’m worried she’s going to the police. Tell them she thinks Thomas is dead.”
Christopher rested his hands behind his head and shrugged. “Who give a fuck? They ain’t stupid. And I ain’t payin them fuckheads for nothin’. They can suspect all the fuck they want. If they take that further, then they gonna have problems.”
“You’re a psycho. You know that?”
“Ain’t nothin’ but a thing, Megan. My ass might be a psycho but I’m your psycho.” Abandoning his deceptive calm, he leaned forward and took the hand without the IV. “I love you. Ima give your way a try. Buy us another house and shit. You can redecorate our room at the club. Whatever. But, baby, I swear to you, the minute I stop makin’ you happy, the minute you ain’t able to handle my lifestyle, tell me. And…and we’ll do what we gotta do to get you happy again.”
They’d separate, he meant. Which was probably the reason why he hadn’t mentioned marriage. If they couldn’t handle each other’s differences, it would be easier if there were no legalities involved.
Meggie smiled. “I love you, too, Christopher,” she whispered, believing they’d get through anything as long as they were together.
SEVEN MONTHS LATER…
“PUSH, MEGAN. SCREAM AS LOUD as you wanna. Call me a dirty motherfucker for doin’ this to you.”
Meggie shrieked, not saying any of what Christopher told her. He wished she would. It would help his conscience to stop beating him up for getting her pregnant in the first place. She fell back against the pillows, panting, her delicate, little hand squeezing his fingers with everything in her. His plain, gold wedding band bumped against her sapphire and diamond engagement ring and matching wedding band.
They’d been married four days and he loved every moment of it. He knew she wanted a big wedding and he’d let her have it, too. Even if, to him, their courthouse wedding had sufficed.
Now, she was bringing his baby into the world. He tried not to think of his mother just then and how much he wished she was still around. He did, however, remember Big Joe. Christopher had finally made peace with himself and the man he’d once loved. Meggie still knew nothing of her father’s memorial. Once Christopher decided her recovered from delivering his child, he’d take her. Bring flowers for both Boss and Patricia.
“Christopher!” she hollered.
“The head is crowning, Megan,” Dr. Will said gently. “You’re doing excellent.” She nodded at Christopher. “Isn’t she?”
“Yeah, baby. Doc right. It’s almost over.” Christopher kissed her sweaty forehead. He looked at Doc Will for guidance. He liked her, Megan’s sec
ond baby doctor. The first had been a man and there wasn’t no way Christopher would allow some fuck to look up Megan’s pussy. It was the Promised Land and his alone. Of course, Megan resisted. When Christopher explained what might accidentally happen to her doctor, she came around to his way of thinking. She arched into another contraction, straining so much Christopher knew she’d faint at any moment. Her hair, piled on her head in a messy bun, was soaked with sweat. Tears streamed down her beet-red face.
She fell back again, panting, her chest rising and falling in a hard wave. A high-pitched wail tore through the air and Christopher started.
“Congratulations,” the nurse said with a wide smile, bringing a squirming little alien with all types of goop to Megan and laying it on her heaving chest. “You have a beautiful baby boy.”
A son. He had a son. A son whose head looked crooked and squinched but a son all the same. Besides, Megan didn’t seem to give a fuck that their son didn’t look quite human. The same look of love and adoration she gave the little boy, she turned on him, and Christopher swore he’d turned into a bitch. He actually felt tears in his eyes.
He hadn’t wanted to know the sex of the baby in advance, believing his family genes wouldn’t allow him to procreate a male and concluding Megan would give him a daughter. Fuck! He was happier than a motherfucker but he’d have to find something to do with all the pink baby shit he’d bought to surprise Megan with.
“All right, Megan. Let’s finish up here,” Doc said and the nurse took the baby away from her.
Christopher bent over and kissed her, for once not having words. But Megan didn’t need them. She understood him and returned his kiss in a sweet display. He thumbed her tears away and pressed his forehead against hers.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “You got a name for my boy?”
She caressed away a tear slipping down his cheek. “Christopher Joseph Foy Caldwell.”
Christopher Joseph Foy Caldwell. He might not have been a real royal like they had in Britain but his son was biker royalty and Megan had given him a name to match his status.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 31
