Everyone ignored her and Mortician looked distinctly worried.
Bailey pinned him with an unreadable expression.
“Motherfucker,” he snarled, “you telling me I knocked you the fuck up?” He hooted with bitter laughter. “I want Prez to get rid of every-fucking-thing in this motherfucker. Whatever the fuck we eat, drink, and smoke. Obviously, there’s something in this motherfucker working on our dicks. No fucking other reason we have three pregnant bitches on our hands.” He stalked to Meggie. “You started this, Megan.”
“Whatever,” she said. “It’s not like I have a penis wand I’m waving. I couldn’t make myself pregnant. Same goes for Kendall and Bailey.”
“The minute Prez put his dick in your pussy, he got you pregnant. There’s been a fucking baby boom around this motherfucker ever since. You started it.”
“Nuh-uh. That would be Zoann. She gave birth to Ryan two months before I had CJ.”
“She not here spreading fertility fumes. You are.”
The door opened bringing in Christopher, Johnnie, and a bunch of the others. Christopher paused.
“You got a fuckin’ reason bein’ in Megan face?”
Not responding, Mortician turned away.
“What the fuck that was about, baby?”
Megan shrugged. “He was talking to Bailey. I just happened to be at the same table.”
Christopher made his way to Megan and pulled her to her feet, kissing her. “I think you fuckin’ know what the fuck goin’ on with Mort and Bailey.” He bent and nipped her ear. “How about I split the five thousand with you?”
“What do you think is going on?” Meggie asked, thumbing his bottom lip.
“I think that motherfucker married her and fuckin’ accused you of emittin’ fertility fumes.”
“You’re sooo bad, Christopher. You heard?”
“Just the stupid fuckin’ fertility fumes shit. The rest I read on your fuckin’ text messages.”
“Yes. Mr. Psycho Stalker strikes again,” Val offered, taking a seat at the next table over.
“Kiss my motherfuckin’ Mr. Psycho fuckin’ Stalkin’ ass, you motherfuckin’ Hallmark card.”
Johnnie sat a bottle on the table with Val. “Any of you ladies know how Valentine got his fuckin’ road name?”
“Shut the fuck up, John Boy.”
“Does it have anything to do with romance?” Kendall asked, caught up in the moment.
Johnnie winked at her. “Mushy, sappy, gaggy fucking romance, gorgeous.”
“I’m gonna kick your ass,” Val growled.
Johnnie tipped the bottle back, then passed it to the man he traded insults with. “Good fucking luck, assfuck.”
“Bailey, girl,” Digger called, pulling a chair between the two tables as Christopher guided Meggie back to her seat and took one of his own. “You part of the sisterhood now?”
“I’ve always been part of the sisterhood,” she said quietly. “My dad was a biker.”
“And so’s your uncle,” Arrow added, dropping into a chair behind Bailey. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. “You holding up real well, princess. K-P would be proud of you.”
Bailey swallowed, her nose reddening and tears rushing to her eyes. She nodded.
“Don’t worry,” Arrow continued. “I’ll uphold your virtue. Any motherfucker look at you wrong and I’m castrating first, asking questions later.”
Christopher grabbed the bottle from Digger and smirked at Arrow. “Then you best get to sharpenin’ your fuckin’ knife.”
“How so?” No one answered, so Arrow focused on the back of Bailey’s head. “Princess?”
“I-I’m having a baby.”
“Whose?” he barked.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“The fuck it doesn’t, Bailey,” he argued. “K-P’s gone, but I’m here and I’m not gonna let no motherfucker get away with hurting you.”
“I don’t want him hurt,” she whispered. “I’ve lost enough.”
“You pregnant, huh, Bailey?” Christopher asked, the humor in his green eyes removing the harshness from his male beauty.
My God, where did these men come from? Kendall wondered.
“I’m not touching a bitch alive.” Digger shook his head and pointed to Val. “Keep your dick in your pants, brother. Me and you the only fucking ones don’t have a bitch pregnant at the moment. Let’s keep it that fucking way.”
“Your dick started all this baby bullshit,” Mortician accused, pointing to Val.
“You just fuckin’ called my fuckin’ wife a bitch, motherfucker?” Christopher snarled.
“I think he did,” Johnnie said blandly. “Sounds like he included Kendall, too.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Digger snapped. “I don’t mean to offend them. Meggie know how the fuck I feel about her.”
Christopher glanced over his shoulder. “How the fuck is that?”
“You want my fucking shovel, Digger?” Val called. “You can dig your own fuckin’ grave. Save one of us the trouble.”
“You’re all idiots,” Meggie hissed with a sniff as Mortician stalked off and disappeared down the hallway.
“I agree,” Arrow said. “So let’s get back to Bailey.”
“Yo’, Bailey,” Christopher began, laughing at whatever Johnnie whispered to him. “It’s been a rough fuckin’ time, babe. Just tell us the truth. We ain’t gonna fuckin’ worry about collectin’ no fuckin’ bet.”
Meggie choked and shook her head, pinching Christopher’s arm.
“We’re married,” Bailey confessed quietly.
“Booyah!” Digger shouted and pumped his arms. “Cha-fucking-ching.”
Christopher and Johnnie got to their feet, bumping fists. Val and Digger hugged each other.
“We got somethin’ to take fuckin’ care of,” Christopher announced, ignoring Meggie’s putrid glare.
Bailey swiped at an escaping tear, then turned to Arrow. “I want to leave, Uncle Arrow. Can you get me a plane ticket?”
“I…you and Mortician, isn’t it?”
She nodded, grabbing his fists when he went to stand up. “Don’t. He only gave me what I asked him to.”
A red hue crept up Arrow’s neck, Part anger and part embarrassment. “What about the baby?”
“It’s his. What about it?”
“You keeping it?”
“Yes.”
Arrow nodded. “Let me talk to him—“
“No, please. I just want to get my things and go.”
“Fine.” He glanced between Kendall and Meggie. “Would you two help her out? I’ll go look in on Dinah.”
Chapter 17
Christopher led the charge into Mortician’s room, finding Mort sitting in his desk chair, glaring out of the window.
“Time to pay the fuck up, motherfucker,” Christopher chortled, dragging Mortician to his feet and pulling him to the closet.
“That bitch can’t ever, ever fucking keep her fucking mouth shut.”
“And you can’t keep your fuckin’ pants zipped, so you fucks belong together,” Christopher observed, filled with cheer. “Open that fuckin’ safe, Mort, and pay the fuck up.”
“I shouldn’t be fuckin’ penalized just because I fucked her. I believe it was if I got fucking hooked on one pussy.”
“No, the fuck it wasn’t,” Christopher countered. “We bet you’d fall in love with a young bitch. Let me refresh your faulty fuckin’ memory about how this began. It went fuckin’ somethin’ like you gettin’ on my ass with the words: ‘that’s what the fuck I’m talkin’ bout. Young pussy. I’m stayin’ far away from that shit. Next thing you know a man hooked on one pussy forever’.”
“I said a man get addicted to showing a young bitch how to fuck and get addicted to that shit.”
“You one stingy motherfucker, Mort,” Val called.
“Yeah, bro,” Digger added. “Outlaw bet you a grand. Your dumb ass upped the fucking ante.”
“And I don’t have to fucking pay,”
he shouted. “I’m not addicted to Bailey.”
“Ain’t said shit about you bein’ addicted to Bailey,” Christopher taunted. “Her pussy? Yeah.”
Mortician growled.
“Don’t like me talkin’ about Bailey’s pussy, do you?”
Johnnie thought sure Mortician would attack Christopher. Maybe, put himself out of his fucking misery.
“Yo’, bro,” Digger began. “You showed Bailey how to use her pussy?”
One thing for Christopher to say it; quite another for anyone else to do so. With Christopher, he had to ignore it. Anyone else, all fucking bets were off. Mortician balled his fist and punched Digger right in the mouth.
Digger bounced back to his feet and lunged for Mortician. Christopher pulled out his nine and fired into the ceiling. The report scared the shit out of Johnnie and he saw him do it. The rest of them jumped like frightened pussies.
Shoving his gun back into his cut, Christopher pulled out his cigarettes. “Next time, I’m puttin’ a bullet in one of your fuckin’ asses. Wonder how that would look? You fuckheads showin’ up in the fuckin’ ER with half your fuckin’ ass cheek blown the fuck off.”
“You cold, Outlaw,” Digger complained. “I might have to change my fuckin’ drawers.”
“Excuse me?” Kendall called, her eyes wide, seeming unsure if she should run.
“No one got shot,” Johnnie reassured her.
She remained in the doorway and nodded. “Okay,” she mumbled. “I-I thought Mortician m-might want to know B-Bailey asked Arrow to take her to the airport and they just left.”
Mortician went still, like his world stopped, and he heaved in a breath. “Thanks, Red,” he responded in a bleak voice. He nodded to his closet. “Take your fucking money and get the fuck out.”
They all looked to Christopher and he shook his head slightly, puffing on his cigarette. “You fucks leave me with this miserable fuck.”
“I don’t want to hear anything, Prez.”
“Too fuckin’ bad cuz I don’t fuckin’ remember askin’ you if you wanted to fuckin’ hear it.”
Johnnie went around Digger and Val, heading to where Kendall stood in the door and waiting for the other two once he reached it.
“I’m going to get ready for the party,” Val said quietly.
“Who are the Bobs?” Kendall asked and Johnnie winced, not wanting to give an explanation about those women.
“Where you heard about them?” Digger asked, removing the handkerchief he’d pressed to his lips.
“Mortician,” she responded calmly.
“How the fuck he came to tell you about them?” Johnnie bit out.
“He wasn’t talking to me in particular. He was talking to Bailey and he told her he’d have his…” her voice trailed off and she snapped her mouth shut, blushing.
“Let me guess.” Val shook his head. “He wants his dick sucked by the Bobs.”
Kendall nodded.
“That motherfucker gone,” Digger remarked. “His nose so open behind Bailey you can park a few of our fucking bikes up in it.”
“How can you make that assumption from his disgusting words?” Kendall hissed “And who are the Bobs?” She glared at Johnnie, expecting an answer.
“The Bobs are the girls who suck good dick,” he explained with a sigh, heat creeping up his neck.
“Yeah, we got a whole fuckin’ new set after Meggie got here,” Digger added without prompting. “Course, we had to help K-P interview those bitches since Meggie wouldn’t have liked Outlaw letting those chicks suck his dick.”
Johnnie growled, tempted to punch the stupid fuck in his mouth himself.
“You, too?” Kendall asked, her eyes wide, pointing to Johnnie.
“Yes.” He couldn’t lie about it since big fucking mouth had spilled the fucking beans.
“You’re going to the party?” she went on shakily.
He’d fucking intended to. Not to get his dick sucked, but just because he didn’t have anything else to fucking do. “Yes, I’m going, Kendall. We’ll probably all end up in Christopher’s room, though.”
“Christopher’s going?”
“Fuck, he our Prez,” Digger said. “Him and Meggie make it to almost everything.”
“Meggie?”
“Well, yeah,” Val said. “He get her out of there before the fucking and dick sucking start.”
She stiffened and backed away from Johnnie. “I have to check on Dinah.”
“Thanks, fuckheads,” Johnnie snarled after she hurried away, deciding he’d let her cool off before he went after her and talked to her.
Christopher “Outlaw” Caldwell walked around Mortician’s room, looking at the motherfucker’s miserable face. He knew Mort had bullshit from his past that fucked him off but he’d try to talk some fucking sense into the motherfucker before he fucked up completely with fucking Bailey.
“You fuckin’ love Bailey, Mortician?”
Mort cut an evil glare at Christopher and it deepened when Christopher smirked at him before turning away and going to his nightstand to open the drawer. Obviously Mort’s fucking frame of mind prevented him from being a proper fucking host and offer Christopher some fucking herb while he played Dr. Fucking Outlaw. Snatching up the baggie and the cigarette paper, he got their roll together and replaced the shit where he’d found it—along with a few bills. He lit it up and took a few puffs before walking over to the man and handing it to him.
After waiting for another hit for several minutes, Christopher snatched the roll back and scowled at his brother. Motherfucker hogging the herb when he hadn’t offered it to Christopher in the first fucking place.
“Let me be.”
“As fuckin’ much as I’d fuckin’ like to walk the fuck away and send a fuckin’ girl in to suck your dick, I can’t fuckin’ do it.”
“You don’t have to do it, Prez.” Mort unclenched his fists. “I’m getting four bitches in here. One for my dick. One for my mouth. And one for each fucking hand.”
Christopher had experienced similar times and he shook his head in fond memory.
“You know you wish you could join me in a fucking pussy fest,” he growled.
“No the fuck I don’t, motherfucker.”
“Maybe, not now because Meggie pussy still new to you—“
Narrowing his eyes, Christopher stalked to Mortician. “I’m givin’ you a fuckin’ pass one fuckin’ more time cuz your dumb fuckin’ ass kinda fucked in the fuckin’ head right now. Consider this fair fuckin’ warning, assfuck. DON’T MENTION MEGAN’S PUSSY.”
“I don’t think I can spend my fucking life fucking one bitch, Outlaw.” He wised the fuck up and didn’t mention any part of Megan’s body again. “I don’t think you can, either.”
How to convince a motherfucker who didn’t believe in fucking love or the fucking power of it? It made motherfuckers cut little fuckheads’ tongues out before shooting the fuck out of them when said fuckhead let shit about empty graves slip.
“I think you fuckin’ bluffin’. You a stingy motherfucker and don’t wanna pay the fuckin’ money. How about this? Keep my fuckin’ Gs. Put it toward your fuckin’ weddin’.” He snickered. “Ex-fuckin-scuse me, motherfucker. You already fuckin’ married.”
“I notice you didn’t say anything about being able to hold up your vows.”
“Ain’t fuckin’ fallin’ for your bullshit, Mort. I fuckin’ understand. You tryin’ to get me to blow you the fuck away, but I ain’t puttin’ you outta your fuckin’ misery.” At least, he’d try not to. Let him keep up with that bullshit, though. “Besides, you think what the fuck you want, I don’t give a rat’s fuck. As long as my wife know better, I’m fuckin’ straight. Ain’t a motherfucker in the world I gotta answer to but her.”
Mortician came to his feet. “I don’t want to answer to no bitch and I don’t want to fuck one pussy for the rest of my fucking days and I don’t want to look at a dude around a chick and want to fuck him up because I hate the thought of a motherfucker up in h
er grill.”
Christopher let him walk out the fucking rage in him. “Whatcha say about young pussy?”
He rubbed his jaw. “You know because you told me a little while ago.”
“True,” Christopher agreed, shrugging. “But you ain’t gettin’ addicted to it til you fuck it. Then it ain’t only young pussy. It becomes a girl, bro. Your fuckin’ girl. Your fuckin’ heart and soul.” Replacing the roll with a regular cigarette, he went to the cabinet where Mort kept his alcohol and pulled out an unopened bottle of tequila. Once he’d opened it, he handed it to Mort and they passed it back and forth between them.
“I don’t have a motherfucking heart and I sure the fuck don’t have a soul.”
Maybe, Mortician was the wrong one to talk to. Maybe, it should’ve been fucking Bailey. Because Christopher identified like a motherfucker with Mortician’s feelings. He’d felt the same way about Megan and no motherfucker in the world could’ve told him different. She was the only one who got through to him. Her actions. Her words. Her innocence.
He didn’t want any-fucking-thing tainting her sweetness and he was a vile enough motherfucker to protect it by any means possible. Except giving her up. Because once she got through to him and made him believe in her love, their love, not one fucking thing could take her away from him. And woe fucking be it to any motherfucker who fucking tried.
It surprised him how much he wanted the same for the men who were not only his brothers but his brothers. His family. His friends.
Mort needed Bailey, a gorgeous fucking chick. Young and innocent. Well, she had been until Mort fucking got to her.
“I gotta go find Megan.” He’d back off. No use wasting his fucking breath and his fucking time bitching at a stubborn fuckhead.
Mortician shoved the bottle back at him, halting his departure. “You don’t get tired of just feeling Meggie’s…” His voice trailed off at Christopher’s growl. “Of just Meggie?” he amended.
Christopher swigged from the bottle, then gripped the neck of it and rubbed his nose. “When Megan had my boy, I couldn’t fuckin’ touch her for six weeks.”
“Did you let any chicks around here—”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 106
