Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “I can fucking do it,” Val said with a shrug.

  “Just get it done.” Not waiting for a response, Johnnie walked out.

  “I guess Outlaw was right,” Val commented, pulling out his gun and removing the safety. Assfuck just had time to widen his eyes before Val fired right between them. He smiled, satisfied at his accuracy. His aim just got better and better.

  Mortician pulled on plastic gloves, then got a big piece of plastic and threw over the corpse. “You doubted Prez?”

  “Fuck, didn’t you? I mean, Moncette might not have been told the three of you were there.”

  “Brooks called that motherfucker before he came and bailed us out. Moncette knew, Val. He’s playing some kind of fucking game that got my fucking ass in jail. I know Prez gonna want to do Moncette himself, but I’d personally like a piece of him. Fucking up my clean record.”

  Val rolled his eyes. “Big pussy. You just never was caught. Join the fucking ranks of real men and wear your record with pride.”

  “For arguing in the fucking hospital?” Mortician snorted. “That’s some abominable fucking shit there, not a fucking reason to be proud.” He covered the body and nodded. “Thanks, motherfucker.”

  “What the fuck for?”

  “Using that .22. Not a lot of spatter. I can deal with this.”

  “Anytime, brother. Now, you ready to party?”

  “For sure. I’ll leave this fuckhead here ‘til later. I need a fucking drink.”

  A drink sounded like a fucking brilliant idea.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kendall Miller stood at the window in her psychologist’s office, staring at the speeding vehicles. At Johnnie’s insistence, she’d remained in the background of the club, although Meggie included her all the time. With club business to see to, Johnnie didn’t want any tempers to flare, but, she’d be amongst them in a celebratory setting in a couple days, so she’d called in for an emergency appointment with her doctor.

  Clouds hung low in the Portland sky and she idly wondered if it would rain. She hoped not. After this appointment, she’d go to the office for a couple of hours. On the way to the MC, she’d pick up the few items needed to finalize Johnnie’s and Ophelia’s joint birthday party that she and Meggie had planned together.

  How odd pairing herself with another woman in friendship. Some days were everything she hoped for. Other days, she still struggled, although, inch by inch, her life was patching back together. Now, Dr. Hughes insisted she withhold information she wanted to shout from the rooftops.

  “Before you announce that you’re expecting to everyone, why don’t you take Meggie to lunch and break the news to her first?”

  “This is a no-brainer, Dr. Hughes,” Kendall said with a sigh, sorry she’d ever mentioned any of the other women at the club. Dr. Hughes constantly harped on how Kendall should treat them when she was around them all the time. She had a dialogue going with Bailey, who was seriously considering following Kendall’s advice in regards to Mortician. She and Bunny went to the museums some times. Bunny had even taken Kendall to her brother’s shop, so Kendall could get a small butterfly tattoo on her shoulder. Yet, that wasn’t good enough for Dr. Hughes. She insisted Kendall needed a little more diplomacy with everyone. She didn’t understand the importance of handling everyone with tact. They were at an MC, for Christ’s sake, with one of the crudest and rudest sons-of-a-bitches as the president.

  Kendall tried to understand Dr. Hughes’s logic, but failed. “Meggie will still find out. Singling her out will only make her feel worse.”

  “How would you feel if Meggie had gotten pregnant before you and announced the news to everyone?”

  Turning to the doctor, Kendall frowned and looked at her toes, visible because of the sandals she wore. She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. Part of her healing process consisted of discovering all of her emotions, not just her self-pitying bitterness. Before Spoon had subjected her to all sorts of indignities, Kendall had known mostly rejection. She’d done what she had to do to get by and lived for the law career she’d only dreamed of.

  She’d always heard about best friends and how anything, anything, could be discussed. That no matter what you did, how you acted, who you were, a best friend had your back. Those words came from the little sister, who was dead and buried too young. Sometimes, she wondered if Carolyn had been attempting to impart some of the insight she had. Because she’d been over a decade older than Carolyn, Kendall had refused to recognize the wisdom. She’d been too stupid to realize that age didn’t dictate wisdom. Experience did.

  She’d held herself above everyone, fearing…rejection. In the end, she’d been the one to reject. She hadn’t been able to make it up to Carolyn. But Kendall tried her best to make it up to Meggie. Meggie being Meggie accepted Kendall, just as Johnnie said she would. Now, Kendall’s mission was to be her best friend, set an example for Meggie and show her that life was more than being some older dickhead’s robot. Meggie deserved a career to put her brain to better use.

  Bailey attended school. Zoann was a nurse. And Kendall was getting her career back. Meggie lived to be at Outlaw’s beck and call, allowing him to embarrass her with his stupid sexual comments (while daring anyone else to say something lewd about her), and moped over her lost baby.

  Kendall looked for ways to encourage Meggie and enjoyed the time they “hung out” and—

  “Stay with me, Kendall,” Dr. Hughes inserted.

  “I’m here,” she mumbled, her cheeks flaming. She fanned her face with a hand and gave the psychologist a sheepish smile.

  “What does Mr. Donovan say about your intention to announce your pregnancy?”

  Kendall headed to her chair and sat down. Johnnie loved her. He showed her in so many different ways. And, yet, despite all her strides, despite how much she truly liked Meggie, sometimes, Kendall regressed. Cringing, she wiped her brow, trying to block out the screaming maniac she’d become when Johnnie told her he didn’t want her to mention the baby yet. Meggie focused on her sadness over the tragedy and talking about a baby wouldn’t help her.

  “At the moment, gorgeous, we need to keep Megs calm, so Christopher can focus on the fucking sheriff. If he’s worried about her, he might fuck up. Rival MCs are bad enough but this is the fucking…” He hadn’t finished, just scowled, his silver-gray eyes begging her to understand. “Christopher can end up dead or in prison for life. We all can. This is life or death, Kendall, so, keep quiet about the baby a little longer. Megan needs—”

  Kendall had taken a giant leap backwards and lost it. She was so happy about her new pregnancy! She wanted everyone to know. Not to be mean, but just to celebrate. She hadn’t seen Johnnie’s point-of-view—she hardly ever did in situations like this. All she’d heard was Megan needs as if he didn’t care what Kendall needed.

  When he did. The whole world knew he put her first.

  Now, Kendall covered her face with her hands. She’d be so ashamed if Meggie ever found out the huge argument Kendall had picked with Johnnie over her.

  Dr. Hughes sighed and Kendall dropped her hands in time to see the doctor snatch off her glasses and rub her eyes. “I’d say he asked you to wait in consideration for Meggie.”

  Kendall swallowed and nodded.

  She bit the tip of her eyeglasses, her dark skin puckering when she drew her brows together. “Judging by your expression, you blew up.”

  “Yes.”

  “Does he know you still intend to do it?”

  “Yes.” He gave into her. Like always, especially when it involved Meggie.

  But he was approaching the end of his rope. Kendall saw it, increasing her panic.

  “Johnnie misses her,” she admitted quietly.

  “I thought you said they were never intimate.”

  “They’ve kissed.”

  “And he misses kissing her?”

  “No. I don’t mean like that. I mean he misses their friendship.”

  “Aren’t they rebuilding it?�
��

  “Yes.” Kendall wrinkled her nose. “He calls her Megs again.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “Neither does her husband,” she said with a prim sniff.

  “Mr. Caldwell?”

  Of course, Dr. Hughes knew Christopher. Everyone knew the asshole. “He doesn’t like me. He holds me responsible.”

  “Does Meggie?”

  Studying her nails, Kendall snorted. “Of course not. Meggie has this amazing ability to forgive. To love. A little Earth angel,” she added before she could stop herself. She groaned.

  “Think long and hard about this, Kendall,” the psychologist began quietly. “You’ll never get better if you aren’t completely honest, especially with yourself. Do you really like Megan Caldwell? Are you trying to like her for Mr. Donovan’s sake? Are you telling me you like her because I’m on the club’s payroll?”

  Allowing Kendall to ponder her questions, Dr. Hughes shoved her glasses back into place and stood. In her mid-forties, she dressed stylishly and looked fabulous.

  “Well?” she asked, grabbing her jacket to place around her shoulders, and returning to her seat.

  “I like Meggie.” She hadn’t even had to consider that again. “I do,” she whispered. “But every day, I have to make a conscious effort not to be me. Sometimes, though, I think what’s wrong with me? Why won’t they love me for who I am?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with who you are. Instead of focusing on what you think you lack, focus on what you know you have. You survived, Kendall. A lot. You woke up every day and rolled out of bed to face the world. Did you face it at optimum behavior? I don’t have to answer that. You already have. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. I believe that’s what Mr. Donovan sees in you. That inner strength that you refuse to recognize. Or can’t because of everything thrown at you, one after the other, without a chance for you to catch your breath.”

  Kendall squirmed in her seat, not really having an answer to the words echoed by Johnnie and Meggie.

  Dr. Hughes sighed again. “Do you remember when we discussed the absolute control your attacker had over you?”

  Kendall would never forget that—the worst session of all the sessions. She’d taken care not to give Spoon’s identity. She didn’t want anyone to ever put two and two together and figure out Johnnie’s role in the bombing.

  “Well? Do you?”

  “Yes. How can I forget it?” She’d been a sobbing mess.

  “You control people, too. In a different way,” she added before Kendall could argue. “You manipulate everyone’s emotions to get them on your side. You manipulate your emotions to justify your actions.”

  “I don’t! How can you say such a thing?” Kendall bristled, unable to fathom the harshness of Dr. Hughes words. Her tone had been as firm as ever, so that didn’t upset Kendall. “I’m all about befriending those women.” She thought about Meggie, not even twenty yet with so much on her plate and not mature enough to realize she needed an education to forge her own future. “And girls,” she added.

  Dr. Hughes snapped her mouth shut, showing her disapproval through actions and not words.

  Kendall huffed at her guilt and confusion. “I just…sometimes, Meggie is still that girl to me,” she confessed, blinking back her tears. “But she understands. She does. She tells me all the time when I mess up and have to apologize to her. She always says it’s fine, Kendall or you’re having a difficult day or I understand.” She shrugged. “Sometimes…sometimes it still feels so awful, listening to a young girl who doesn’t…she’s so young.”

  “Wisdom comes with experiences.” Dr. Hughes’s refrain echoed Kendall’s earlier thoughts. “You can be eighteen and had enough happen to you to have the knowledge of a thirty-year-old.”

  “So you keep saying,” Kendall grumbled.

  “Have you tried any of what you and I have discussed over the past weeks?”

  All the time. Through Dr. Hughes’s counseling Kendall admitted to Meggie when she experienced a bad day if she snapped at her. Through counseling, she’d returned to work on a limited basis. She was learning how to be a friend, the reason she was determined to sway Bailey into filing for divorce. As much as Kendall adored Mortician, the man wouldn’t change. He didn’t deserve Bailey. And Outlaw definitely didn’t deserve Meggie. Kendall resolved to have Meggie recognize the importance of Outlaw allowing her time and space to herself. Just like Dr. Hughes always counselled Kendall to do with Johnnie.

  “How’s spending a little time apart from Mr. Donovan going?”

  “It’s going,” she mumbled.

  “I take it you still demand the majority of his attention? You’re not giving him time to himself?”

  “I’ve never had anyone to love me and want me like he does. He protects me. I can’t lose him.”

  “If you love him and he loves you, set him free. Let him go.”

  The idea made tears rush to Kendall’s eyes and she wrapped her arms around her waist. “What if he doesn’t come back?” she whispered.

  “I went to a second hand bookstore on my way home yesterday,” Dr. Hughes began.

  The change of topic surprised Kendall, but, maybe, it was a good thing. Thoughts of losing Johnnie panicked her. Neither did she like the thought of losing Meggie, Bailey, or Bunny, the only girlfriends she’d ever had. She hated the thought of sharing them. Especially Meggie who Kendall had to share with everyone when Outlaw allowed it. At best, he acted cordial to her and Kendall suspected he preferred Meggie not spend time with her.

  “I bought a small volume of Ancient Chinese Proverbs,” the psychologist went on after a moment of silence.

  Kendall’s mind roamed in different directions without singular focus.

  “I was flipping through the pages and one, in particular, caught my attention. I thought of you as I read it.”

  Kendall drew her brows together. “You did?”

  “Yes. Would you like to hear it?”

  Kendall nodded.

  “It goes like this, ‘If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was. We do not possess anything in this world, least of all other people. We only imagine that we do. Our friends, our lovers, our spouses, even our children are not ours; they belong only to themselves. Possessive and controlling friendships and relationships can be as harmful as neglect.’”

  Kendall allowed the words to sink in, trying to find comfort in them but not quite understanding the entire meaning and hoping one day soon that she would.

  Chapter Twelve

  Val rubbed a hand over his eyes, the creaking of the ladder loud in the quietness of the club. He hated changing fucking light bulbs. Outlaw teased the shit out of him and always told Val such maintenance fell under the blanket of the Probates’ tasks. But Val refused to risk discovery.

  The cameras he’d installed might be found and then Outlaw would fucking kill him.

  Swiping at the sweat popping out at the thought, Val twisted the last screw into place on the light fixture globe. The blast of the a/c chilled him as he clambered down the ladder and glanced around Zoann’s room, so fucking neat it was hard for Val to hide his little cameras, but he had the means and he had the will—the need—to see her.

  The black and white night vision allowed him to capture her every move and just added another chicken-shit thing to the other chicken-shit thing he’d done…two chicken-shit things….no, three…fuck!

  Okay, so he’d done a lot of chicken shit things to her. Handing her a few bullshit words so she’d agree to allowing him to babysit their son. Leaving a brother in his place while he, Val, assisted Outlaw in blowing the fuck out of the Torps’ clubhouse along with thirty of their members. Finding that same brother dismembered, words written in blood on the walls of their son’s nursery. Trying to hide said dismemberment by calling in more brothers to clean up the mess. Fucking her because nothing in this world compared to holding her and having her. Oh yeah, and he’d wanted
to distract her from any noise during the clean-up. Never expected a fucking argument and a changing table crashing to the floor. And, then, slinking to Outlaw and having her house blown up.

  Huh. Maybe, she had every fucking reason to hate him.

  From the moment Val had gotten Ryan, and Outlaw and Johnnie had dragged Zoann, hissing, cursing, and biting to the club, she’d refused to sleep in Val’s room. For the first few days, she’d sulked and threatened them with awful, terrible deaths. Outlaw had ignored her outbursts, just hugged her and promised her it would be all right. He hadn’t disparaged her or lost his patience with her. Outlaw knew her awful secret.

  He’d had guards watching over her so she wouldn’t run away and take Ryan, and they’d never hear from her again. But, Meggie, in and out of her own grief over her lost baby, had locked herself in Zoann’s room and talked to her.

  Val remembered every word she said. By then, he’d installed cameras in the room Outlaw had assigned Zoann. He’d needed to make sure she wouldn’t sneak away in the middle of the night.

  Ten, miserable weeks had passed. If she’d listen to him, he could tell her what to do and be done with it. But, no, she fucking fought him at every turn and blamed him for blowing up her house and all their belongings.

  “I worked my ass off for everything,” she’d screamed. “How dare you take it away from me and Ryan?”

  Val didn’t see the big problem. He did it for their safety. She’d worked for that shit. She could work for other shit. Or, take the shit he offered her, and shut the fuck up. Any idiot would realize if she was fucking dead, the shit she'd worked so hard for wouldn’t fucking matter.

  Now, she was at the club, refusing to decorate the bare walls or the shit-brown décor and ugly concrete floors. She had a nightstand, a dresser, a small desk, a baby bed, and her bed.

  He’d backed away from her two weeks after she arrived and stopped trying to appease her, immersing himself in the pills he’d gotten hooked on again after his shooting. Pills and pussy had gotten him through the following eight weeks and only made her hate him more.