Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “Says fucking who?”

  Says her and everyone else she’d ever allowed close to her. God, the power of these men. Mortician had her opening up while she sat in her bra and panties and obediently allowed him to restrain her. There was no turning back now, so she might as well get to the heart of the matter. “I’m huge.”

  “Bitches fucking trip all the goddamn time.” Mortician scrubbed his jaw. “Don’t start nothing and it won’t be nothing. Hear me?”

  Kendall made a moue of her mouth. “I hear you,” she retorted with a sniff. “I just don’t understand you.”

  “Don’t fucking point out what you think your flaws, baby. See me? I’m one simple motherfucker. Give me pussy. Make me laugh and you solid in my book. If you don’t point out your flaws, I won’t ever see them.”

  “You do. All men do.”

  “Worry about shit that matter. You gorgeous, okay? I’m not a bullshitting motherfucker. If you was some ratchet, hot mess, I’d tell your ass. You have legs that go on for fucking days. Make a man have wet dreams. All that flame-colored hair. Not to mention your beautiful face, Red.” He stood and peered down at her. “Stop fishing for fucking compliments, girl. By the way, you ever tell John Boy I noticed anything about you, I’m denying that shit.”

  “It wouldn’t matter to him,” she said, almost giddy at the thought that it would.

  “Hold your fucking hands out, Kendall.”

  She inched forward on the chair, hoping her trust wasn’t misplaced. “Do you have to cuff my hands?”

  He gave her a brusque nod, a muscle ticking in his clenched jaw.

  Once he had her hands secured, he crouched down again and began stuffing her legs in the burlap sack, speaking as he worked. “Lowman a fucking evil wizard, warlock, motherfucker. He set Prez and John Boy off in different ways. Lowman should be fucking dead, but John Boy got to work through his feelings. Realize the motherfucker no good.”

  “He doesn’t know that?”

  “You know how the fuck it is when you know something but you don’t know something. You keep hoping what you know not true. That’s John Boy with Lowman. Straight up. Help my brother along, Kendall. Tell Johnnie whatever the fuck you know about his deranged fucking grandfather.”

  “T-tell him? Tell him what?”

  “Whatever Lowman did to you.”

  She lowered her lashes, not realizing tears were falling down her cheeks until Mortician swiped them away.

  “I’ve been knowing Johnnie a long time and he like you. A lot. There’s a lot of bullshit going on right now, so he can’t focus on you. But, trust me, when I tell you he’ll overcome his hesitation and blow Lowman the fuck away when the time right. First, though, John Boy need to know his grandfather hurt you.”

  “He didn’t hurt me,” she whispered on a sob. “He hurt my little sister. He took my little sister and he’s making her do all kinds of disgusting things—”

  Mortician’s brown skin turned a few shades of gray and he choked, getting to his feet and staring at her like she had two heads. “Fuck, man. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He covered his face with his hands, then walked in a tight circle. “Lowman twist situations to his benefit all the fucking time. He that type of assfuck. A manipulating motherfucker.” He lifted her into his arms without strain and headed outside.

  Now, she lay in the back seat of Johnnie’s navigator, the conversation with Mortician replaying in her head as afternoon slid into early evening and the temperature cooled a few degrees. Chill bumps marched across Kendall’s exposed chest and shoulders, and a shiver traveled through her. She had strength. Somewhere. She just had to dredge it up.

  Men strolled by with shotguns resting on their shoulders, in complete disregard for any laws. Kendall remained still, trying not to move an eyelash, not wanting to give them a reason to shoot. Unless, one of them framed their hands against the door to leer at her. Then, she squeezed her eyes shut. Every time—

  “If you don’t get the fuck away from my ride, I’m pistol-whipping you, motherfucker, and then blowing you the fuck away.”

  Kendall startled at Johnnie’s growl.

  “Sorry, John Boy,” a guy muttered. “We keeping an eye on that hot bitch back there and her big titties almost falling out that little bra.”

  “Yeah,” someone else added. “We were trying to figure out how we could do her since her mouth is gagged, her hands are cuffed, and her ass and pussy are covered.”

  “Not to mention your door is locked,” the first guy volunteered.

  “If my door hadn’t been locked, you two would’ve fucked her?”

  Johnnie’s lazy tone gave Kendall the impression he intended to hand her over if they told him ‘yes’.

  A “yep” followed behind, “yup.”

  The alarm honked and lights flickered when Johnnie pressed his keyless remote and threw his door open. The minute the two men crouched to peer at her, Johnnie grabbed them by the scruff of their necks and banged their heads together.

  It happened so fast, if Kendall had blinked, she would’ve missed it. She lifted her head to watch them drop to the ground, knocked out cold.

  “You…what the fuck’s your name?” Johnnie muttered. A lighter flicked and he grunted. “New brother, get these two assfucks out of my sight. Explain to them if they wish to patch in, they don’t fuck with my ride and they don’t fuck with my business.”

  “I’m Slipper,” the man panted. “And those my sons. They didn’t mean nothing, John Boy. We figured an enemy of yours is an enemy of ours.”

  “A creed to remember,” he agreed without inflection. He had the best poker face in the world. “But when shit’s under control, don’t interfere without permission. As I fucking recall, the order’s to patrol. Not fucking look and not fucking touch. Especially a woman in my SUV. Your boys are lucky my doors were locked. They would’ve ended up…” His voice trailed off. “Just consider them fucking lucky. Got me, Sock?”

  The gag bit off Kendall’s laugh. Smart ass. Johnnie knew the man’s name wasn’t Sock.

  “Er, Slipper. Remember? The first time I visited here I ate too much and vomited all over, then slipped in it.”

  Erm, disgusting.

  “Must’ve missed that auspicious occasion,” Johnnie said dryly, slamming the back door shut. He opened and reclosed the driver’s side while Slipper still chatted away. Johnnie turned the ignition and started off to an unknown destination.

  Kendall hoped wherever he took her allowed her to see another sunrise tomorrow.

  Chapter 12

  20 years before

  Johnnie was going to lose this fight. The three boys had jumped him on his way home from school in a dirty move. The ringleader—the one Johnnie had challenged to meet his fists after school—had corralled his two lackeys because he was too much of a dickwad to face Johnnie on his own. Although the coward accepted the invitation, he hadn’t shown up at the appointed meet place, so Johnnie had started home and gotten rewarded with a surprise.

  Coward gripped Johnnie. He was big, too. At least six feet and he weighed as much as a blue whale. The more Johnnie struggled, the tighter Coward’s hold became and the harder the punches of the other two became.

  A fist landed against Johnnie’s temple and he saw stars. The other guy punched Johnnie’s jaw. Fuck! That HURT.

  “Still wanna defend him?” Coward snarled.

  A blow to the stomach sent shudders through Johnnie’s body. He was getting beaten to a pulp on Christopher’s behalf. Right then, he disliked Christopher intensely. His cousin had given up on school, given up on their friendship. He didn’t care how much Aunt Patricia, Johnnie and Zoann loved him. No, he was too focused on all the people who didn’t give a fuck about him.

  An arc of steel glinted in the dull day, the only warning one of them had a blade. Not much frightened Johnnie, but dying scared the shit out of him. He twisted in Coward’s arm, yelping at the jab of the knife point in his shoulder.

  “You answering this time?”

&
nbsp; “Fuck off.” He spat a stream of blood, cringing at the thought of losing teeth. So far, so good, but if they kept beating his ass, he’d end up with a broken face and a bald mouth.

  The boy who’d stabbed him twisted the blade and Johnnie bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying.

  “You’re all fucking dead.” His words cracked and he decided the change in his voice that had started sucked big, hanging, elephant balls. It made him sound like he was about to cry. No matter that he was. His tone didn’t have to give him away. “Christopher and I are cousins. I’ll defend him, to the death if I have to. Just like he’ll defend me.”

  “Is that so?” Coward asked and the other two boys sniggered.

  “What’s going on here?” an authoritative voice interrupted, and Johnnie sagged in relief when Big Joe walked into his line of vision.

  Coward shoved Johnnie out of his arms and stepped back, swallowing. Fear replaced his smugness. “N-nothing, sir.”

  Having trouble remaining on his own two feet from all the blows he’d taken and the knife wound, Johnnie squinted at the big, blond man. He ran into him from time-to-time, mostly at his Grandda’s house. Johnnie suspected Big Joe was part of the reason Christopher was pulling away. No matter the man was a criminal, he had embraced Christopher and gave him guidance. Johnnie only wished it had been positive.

  “That right, John?” Big Joe asked with a lift of his brow. “Nothing’s going on?”

  Johnnie glared at Coward, realizing the two lackeys had run off, leaving the blue whale prototype to face the music alone. “What’s going on is between me and Coward.”

  “Don’t call me a fucking coward, jerkoff.”

  “Don’t look like it was between you and douche fuck here,” Big Joe commented without inflection. “From my standpoint, it was between you, him, and whoever the fuck was beating you to a pulp.”

  Instead of answering, Johnnie asked, “What are you doing here? This isn’t your normal hangout spot.”

  “You answer me and I’ll answer you,” Big Joe said in a hard voice, pulling a red bandanna from his head and handing it to Johnnie. “Press that to your shoulder, ‘til we get it seen to.”

  “Leonidas and I got into it earlier and I invited him to settle the score after school.” Johnnie held the bandanna in place, not liking the sensation of his warm blood running down his skin or the bright red spreading on his shirt. “He didn’t come out to the meeting, so I left. They were waiting for me on the trail.”

  “Stick to Coward,” Big Joe advised, his blue eyes twinkling. “Don’t ever give any fucks the impression you respect them more than they respect you.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson with Christopher.”

  “Douche fuck,” Big Joe called to Leonidas. “Get the fuck gone. I have business to discuss with Johnnie. If he ever challenge you again, walk the fuck away or man the fuck up and meet him on your own. We clear?”

  Nodding with vigor, Leonidas swallowed and began backing away. Three yards away, he turned tail and ran.

  Once they were alone, Johnnie eyed Big Joe. “You really have business with me or were you shitting him so he could leave?”

  Big Joe started forward, motioning for Johnnie to follow. “I don’t shit around with little assfucks, okay?”

  Johnnie nodded. “Okay.”

  “You get respect by staying true to your word. Then motherfuckers know whatever you say, you’re going to do. If you can’t back up your words with actions, keep the fuck quiet in the first place.”

  The wound in his shoulder throbbed, but the blood had already stopped, so the blade probably hadn’t gone too deep. “I kept my word, Big Joe. Coward didn’t keep his.”

  The man shrugged and continued along the tree-lined pathway.

  Big Joe had been a patched-in member for over two years now and he wore the cut with pride. Even Johnnie liked the Grim Reaper rocker staring at him with red eyes. “Where’s your bike?”

  “At Logan’s,” Big Joe responded. “I wanted to talk to you on your own.”

  “What about?”

  Coming to an abrupt halt, Johnnie barely had time to stop himself from running into the man. He turned, his brows drawn together. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and looked away before meeting Johnnie’s gaze again. “Two things,” he announced. “Let’s get to the easiest first. I’m leaving,” he announced.

  “L-leaving?” Johnnie echoed, dread pitching through him. If that was the easiest, he couldn’t imagine Big Joe’s other news. “Where…um…why?”

  “My girl expecting my baby and I’m heading to Seattle. That’s where Dinah’s from and that’s where she wants us to live.”

  “What about Christopher?” Unless he was taking his cousin away with him, in which case announcing his departure was the easiest news to hear. “Are you taking him?”

  A moment of silence passed, then Big Joe rubbed his eyes. “No. Can’t take him with me. Joey’s staying with his momma, too. But that’s one of the reasons I’m here. You and me both love Christopher, right?”

  Not at the moment, but he shrugged. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Big Joe set a hand on Johnnie’s shoulder, a pained expression crossing his face. “Sometimes, when you love someone, you have to protect them by keeping certain secrets and taking them to your grave.”

  Bewildered, Johnnie remained silent.

  “I admire Logan,” Big Joe went on, “except for his treatment of his family. Your cousin especially.”

  “I’ve talked to Grandda about Christopher. Nothing I say matters to him. As for the rest of us, he loves us.”

  “If you say so.”

  Johnnie didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing, kid. What I’m about to tell you stays between me, you, and the birds in the trees. Got me?”

  Johnnie hunched his shoulders, wincing at the burn of the knife wound. He was tired of standing up and could only ignore his aches and pains from the fight for so long.

  “A while back, Logan got into a bit of trouble. Knowing him, he laid the seeds of contention. But everyone’s lives were on the line. All three of his children.”

  “Grandda doesn’t have three children. Only my dad and Aunt Patricia.”

  Big Joe heaved in a sigh. “No. He had three children. One of them died not long after you were born.”

  A funny feeling settled in the pit of Johnnie’s gut and he tensed.

  “Logan’s a good man,” Big Joe reiterated. “But even good men fuck up. Every time he looks at Christopher, he sees his fuck-up.”

  “Christopher isn’t a fuck—”

  “Didn’t mean it like you’re taking it. I’m just saying in Christopher your grandfather sees the mistake he made. Your Aunt Patricia was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Logan owed a family friend money and he took out his frustrations on her to settle the debt. Not that she knows. I’m guessing Logan didn’t imagine she’d end up pregnant.”

  Speechless, Johnnie stared into the man’s calm gaze, his mind racing. He couldn’t wrap his head around the thought that his grandfather would allow any man who hurt his aunt to get away with it. Not Grandda. People gave him the utmost respect because he always did what he said he’d do and he always protected his family.

  Over the past four years, Johnnie had gotten glimpses of Logan,” the founding member of the Death Dwellers”, but those moments were few and far in between. Even the eyeball situation with Rack had turned out to be false. His Grandda had explained that Rack liked to play practical jokes.

  A man who had someone’s eyeball removed would be capable of using his daughter to pay a debt. A man like his Grandda would never do such a thing.

  “The other part to this sorry tale is your mother.”

  “My mother?” he echoed, confused.

  “Yes. Logan’s other daughter.”

  “A brother and sister can’t make babies together,” Johnnie snapped.

  “And a brother and a sister didn’t,” Big Joe
stressed. “A brother took his sister’s baby and raised as his own when the sister died.”

  Johnnie blinked, tried to think of a response.

  “What I’m saying is neither you nor Christopher had a choice in being born. A choice in who your daddy was. You two boys was real close—”

  “It’s because of you we aren’t anymore.”

  “Did what I thought was best. Didn’t want Christopher waking up one day and getting so jealous of you he’d ruin his relationship with you.”

  “So you decided to separate us and ruin it yourself?” Johnnie scoffed.

  “I decided to take him under my wing to give him some direction. Your grandfather took care of you.”

  “He’ll continue to take care of me, but you’re leaving now, so Christopher is going to be alone all over again.”

  Big Joe rocked back on his heels. “Not true. He wasn’t alone before we met and he won’t be alone now. He has you and you have him.”

  “I’m in school. He’s dropped out. I’m loyal. He isn’t. I have a family who loves me. He doesn’t.”

  “In other words, you’re better than him?”

  Johnnie turned Big Joe’s wry question over in his head. Grandda always said he was better than Christopher and wasn’t he being proven right? Christopher would end up being nothing when Johnnie intended to become the head of a corporation. He straightened to his full height, sure in his belief. “Yes. I am.”

  Big Joe cocked his head to the side. “Then I suppose this conversation is done,” he said after a moment. “Can’t deal with a little asshole who places himself above lesser mortals like me and Christopher.”

  For some reason, this entire conversation unsettled Johnnie and rubbed him the wrong way. He detected so many things left unsaid, but was in no mood to find out what. He scowled. “I didn’t seek you out. You came looking for me.” He stalked around the man and headed toward the open field that backed up onto his grandfather’s property.

  Years later, all the pieces to the puzzling conversation clicked into place. At that time, though, justifiable anger almost blinded him.

  Big Joe caught up to him and grabbed him by his wounded shoulder, spinning him around.