“Hey, Val,” Meggie greeted hoarsely, not stopping for idle chitchat.
She flashed past Johnnie and Mortician. Her low-cut white leather pants, midriff baring bustier and short jacket should be fucking illegal. Just what the fuck Val needed. Having Zoann in bed with him and being unable to touch her tortured the fuck out of him. He’d been intending to jerk off this morning, but they’d had to deal with Dinah wandering the fuck off. Now, Zoann was sitting with her, reading a book. She’d gotten Dinah cleaned up and fed once they’d found her sitting in front of the new construction for Outlaw’s house, just staring. Arrow had handcuffed her to her bed until Zoann intervened. While Bailey watched the boys, Zoann babysat Dinah.
A stool scraped across the concrete, drawing Val’s attention to Outlaw sitting down and Mortician sliding a full bottle of Cuevo to him. Something was up and Val bet it had to do with Meggie.
His president lit a cigarette, puffing and drinking in silence for a few minutes. “Where’s Dinah?”
Fuck. Arrow must’ve called Outlaw. “Zoann sitting with her,” Val said, loping to Outlaw’s side, not reaching for the bottle. There were times when he knew sharing shit was off-limits. “For what it’s worth, I fucking told Arrow you wasn’t going to be happy he’d handcuffed her.”
Outlaw scowled at him, gulping from the bottle. “I’m sendin’ Dinah away. This the second time she did this shit. Bitch don’t talk to no fuckin’ body but Megan, Kendall, and Zoann. She put too much pressure on Megan, anyway. I’m gonna get her the fuck away from here and throw her fuckin’ address away.”
At the decree, Mortician grabbed a half-empty bottle of vodka and slid a bottle of scotch to Johnnie, who now stood on Outlaw’s other side. He raised a brow in question to Val.
“Tequila,” Val responded.
Nodding, he found an opened bottle of Patron and handed it to Val.
“Meggie ain’t gonna like that, Outlaw,” Val said into the heavy silence.
“I ain’t handlin’ bitch problems much longer,” Outlaw growled, his fucked-up mood disintengrating to the depths of hell. “My fuckin’ club bein’ ruined because of these fuckin’ girls. I gotta handle shit with Moncette and what-fuckin-ever other problems we facin’. I ain’t doin’ that shit as long as I gotta fuckin’ worry about Megan.” He drank deeper from the bottle and scrubbed a hand over his face, his expression bleak. “I’m talkin’ to her tonight, so I suggest you talk to your bitches, too, fuckheads. Whenever the house finished, I ain’t allowin’ them to live here no more.”
“Easy for you to say, Christopher,” Johnnie snapped. “Megan’s going to be on club property and within walking distance.”
“Yeah, Prez,” Mortician agreed. “Besides you think your decree stopping Meggie girl from coming here when the fuck she want to?”
“Not if I have probates at the fuckin’ door barrin’ her from walkin’ the fuck in.”
They looked amongst one another, not knowing how to respond to that.
“What happened to you?” Johnnie asked slowly.
“Nothin’. E-fuckin-nuff about this. We need to fuckin’ get Moncette. Gotta fuckin’ have fuckin’ church.”
Val swallowed. If anyone would understand his need to spend time with Zoann, he’d thought Outlaw would. Now, though? He wasn’t so sure. Something went through the man’s head, given the new development with the women. The others he could understand. Meggie? No. It would make her damn unhappy and Outlaw bent over backwards to keep her happy.
Val cleared his throat, finished the tequila, and cleared his throat again. “About that. I been needing to talk to you about taking Zoann away for a couple days.”
Outlaw narrowed his eyes and his brows snapped together. “What that got to do with me, motherfucker?” His tone told Val he knew exactly what it had to do with him.
“Can retaliation on Moncette wait? Church, too. Planning. Everything.”
“You for fuckin’ real, assfuck?”
“Yeah, Outlaw,” Val answered with as much determination as possible.
Outlaw was on edge and, for once, Val doubted even Meggie would calm him.
“Was you fuckin’ listenin’? Ain’t I just fuckin’ said bitches ain’t fuckin’ up club business no more? That mean no bitch. Not Megan. Not Kendall. Not Bailey. Not Zoann. Deal with it, Valentine. You wanna fuckin’ take her away? You fuckin’ waitin’ ‘til after Moncette dealt with.”
The opening door interrupted Val’s argument. He had to get this time with Zoann, in case things went south when they dealt with Moncette.
Cash McCall sauntered into view, his eyes twinkling. Motherfucker always looked like he had a fucking joke no one else was in on. Shockwaves travelled through Val at Ghost’s, aka Cash’s, presence. Yeah, Outlaw had tapped him for jobs, but he hadn’t actually come to the club in years. Stretch followed right behind, his expression an odd mix of longing and embarrassment.
Judging by Outlaw’s reaction, Cash’s appearance shocked the fuck out of him, too. His next words confirmed it.
“What the fuck you doin’ here, Cash?”
Cash’s grinned widened. “My little nymph called me with a voice filled with sadness.”
Outlaw’s eyes narrowed to slits and his fingers flexed. “Stay the fuck away from Megan.”
“I’m hungry,” Cash protested. “She promised to feed me whatever I wanted to eat if I rushed to her rescue.”
Stretch blushed to the roots of his hair and Outlaw got to his feet, so on edge Val worried he’d blow Cash the fuck away at any moment.
“Christopher,” Meggie said, rounding the corner and skidding to a halt. Her eyes widened. “You’re here, Cash. That was fast. I-I called you about ten minutes ago.”
Cash’s laughter deepened and he smirked at Stretch, who looked mortified. “I was close by, heading some shit off.”
Mortician snorted and drank from his bottle. Johnnie frowned between Stretch and Cash, who shrugged unapologetically.
“Okay, you gotcha dick sucked, motherfucker, so say what the fuck you gotta say and get the fuck outta my face,” Outlaw demanded.
“Can’t have too many dick sucks, Outlaw,” Cash countered, sweeping his gaze over Meggie, who’d changed into an acid colored mini skirt with a fucking split on the side. Bare feet. Hair hanging. Blue eyes snapping.
Val blamed Outlaw for this constant sex on wheels fashion show Meggie did. He was the one who gave her the money to buy all kinds of fucking clothes. Jeans and T-shirts had been invented for a fucking reason. To cover girls like Meggie and Bailey.
Thank fuck, Zoann didn’t walk the fuck around like that. Val couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t.
“If you ain’t got a dick, motherfucker ain’t gettin’ sucked,” Outlaw snapped.
“He’s here for me, Christopher,” Meggie said, glaring.
“Sure am, sweetness. And I’ve been thinking about Outlaw’s offer to patch back in full time.”
“I changed my fuckin’ mind. Now, get the fuck out.” He turned to Megan. “You and me talkin’.”
“I want to be one of Meggie’s guards,” Cash interrupted.
Outlaw transferred his furious look to the other man. “I ain’t lettin’ your dick no-fuckin-where round my fuckin’ girl.”
“If you don’t have them on her guard detail,” Cash countered, gesturing between Val, Mort, Johnnie, and Stretch, “then you have a bunch of shaggy, overweight motherfuckers. Shouldn’t be for a gorgeous little thing like her.”
“I’m tellin’ you one fuckin’ more time. Get the fuck outta my face.”
“Just thought I’d offer,” Cash said, unapologetic.
“Un-fuckin-offer.”
“Fine. Duly un-fucking-offered.” He turned to Meggie. “Show me the way to your secret passage.”
Outlaw glared in her direction, sucking in a breath at…her outfit, by any chance?
Meggie threw both of them an exasperated glance. “You’re here to help me with my mother, Cash.”
Nodding, Cash gave her
a slow perusal and headed to the bar, grabbing the brew Mortician held out to him.
Understanding lit Outlaw’s face. “You was fuckin’ listenin’, huh, Megan?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t mean to. But I heard so I’ll take care of everything.” She stepped closer and Outlaw looked as if she was a ball of fire about to burn him. The intensity and the longing clashed with his anger. “At least if Cash helps me, I’ll know where she is. You’ll send her away and not tell me.”
“If Cash wanna patch back in as a regular fuckin’ member, he listenin’ to me. Not you.” He raised his empty bottle to Mortician, then turned back to Meggie. “Go take that short fuckin’ shit you wearin’ off. You fuckin’ lucky you get to wear those tiny fuckin’ shorts. No motherfuckin’ way you walkin’ ‘round one bend from showin’ your fuckin’ pussy.”
She clenched her jaw. “No.”
“You got jack-of-all-fuckin-trades Cash to help get whiny fuckin’ Dinah into some fuckin’ facility? I can get that motherfucker to find me a fuckin’ safe house for you and my boy and lock you the fuck up.”
Folding her arms, she raised her wobbling chin, her eyes filling with tears. “You’d do that just to have your way?”
“My fuckin’ way or no fuckin’ way. If you ain’t pregnant now and it take me not fuckin’ touchin’ you so you ain’t ever gettin’ pregnant a-fuckin-gain, then that’s what the fuck I’m doin’. Keepin’ you the fuck away from me and jerkin’ off better than havin’ you round and riskin’ comin’ in you cuz I ain’t trustin’ you to take your fuckin’ pills.” He pointed to her skirt. “That ain’t temptin’ me into fuckin’ you neither. Motherfucker just pissin’ me the fuck off.”
“When you wanted a baby, I let you give me one.”
He flinched at her words and grabbed the new bottle of tequila Mort held out to him. “What you bitchin’ and fuckin’ complainin’ about, Megan? Ain’t a pussy around this motherfucker we ain’t fucked without a cum catcher ain’t turnin’ up filled with a fuckin’ baby. My guess is I fuckin’ caught you a-fuckin-gain. Months too early, if I’m goin’ by Dr. Will.”
Now, Val got the picture. For whatever reason, Outlaw thought he’d gotten Meggie pregnant. It didn’t take a genius to know what the thought of Meggie pregnant again did to a man like Outlaw. Meggie was the only person in the world who made him lose control. After discovering his father had raped his sister—another situation he hadn’t been able to control—he’d want to exercise his authority over his wife.
“My mother is this way, Cash.” Meggie pointed over her shoulder and prompted Outlaw to get to his feet. She held up her hand to stop his advance. “You listen to me, Christopher Caldwell. It’s you over everyone, even my mother. But she’s my mother and I will know where she’s at, whether you like it or not. You want to handle it with Cash, fine, do it. If you don’t give me each little detail about where I can find her, I’ll make your life miserable.”
He thrust his hands through his hair. “Too fuckin’ late, Megan.”
Her eyes widened and she stared at him before bursting into tears. Outlaw didn’t move, just gripped the bottle so tight, his fingers began to turn white. No one could go to her—no one was allowed to touch her.
She palmed her tears away. “Get my car, Stretch,” she demanded around sniffles.
“Megan—”
“Either he gets my car or I’m taking CJ and walking. Either way, I’m leaving.” She turned on her heel and ran away, her sobs floating down the hall.
“Make up fucks that good that you fuck up with Meggie all the time or some shit, Prez?” Mortician asked.
Johnnie shook his head at Mort, a silent indication to shut the fuck up, even if it was a good fucking question.
Mortician rolled his eyes. “Prez, you the motherfucker who told me how fucking much you love your girl. If Meggie walk away because you being a stupid motherfucker over a baby that might not be, she not coming back so easy. If she heard about Dinah, then she heard your words about the bitches-living-here moratorium.”
“Christopher, you’ve been knowing Megs wanted another baby as soon as she heals.”
“Yeah, Outlaw, you even said you’d give her ten more if she wanted,” Val blurted, remembering the night he’d watched Outlaw and Meggie fuck.
Outlaw narrowed his eyes, but stayed silent. Val prayed the man mentioned that shit to them at some point.
“If I woulda been handlin’ club business and not behind Megan all the fuckin’ time, that baby woulda been just about born by now.”
“Yes and you would’ve been happily anticipating putting another one inside of her,” Johnnie pointed out.
“Shit fuckin’ change.”
“Prez, you want Meggie to stay, apologize for that bullshit about her making you miserable.” Mortician had turned on the hallway monitors and they saw Meggie with a backpack and diaper bag, holding onto Little Man’s hand. “That’s when she decided to leave your fucking ass.”
Outlaw didn’t respond, just dropped his head in his hands and kept his back to the room at large as Meggie appeared, walking in step with her son, who looked just like his father except his hair had curls. She had just about made it to the door when Outlaw spoke.
“Don’t go.”
She paused and straightened but didn’t turn around.
“The day I met you was the best fuckin’ day of my life, Megan. I am…” His shoulders heaved. “Fuck, baby. I ain’t thinkin’ beyond nothin’ but gettin’ you pregnant and somethin’ happenin’ to you. I need to focus on my club. Some motherfucker shot my sister. I need to be thinkin’ about her.’
She didn’t move and Little Man tipped his head back, smiling widely at her.
“Don’t go,” Outlaw repeated.
She hesitated a moment longer, then turned and guided her son back in the direction she’d come, not saying anything to Outlaw or any of them. Not even looking at them, just responding to the need in her husband’s voice.
He stared at the monitor until he saw her go into their room and close the door. “Cash, hold off on the facility for Dinah. I’m gonna talk to Arrow. Val, I’m givin’ you three days with Zoann. Johnnie, club got more land. E-fuckin-nuff for all you motherfuckers to build somethin’ for you fuckin’ girls.”
“You not going talk to Meggie?” Mortician asked, his eyes twinkling.
Outlaw scowled at him.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Johnnie said, smiling widely.
“You just earned a pussy lockout, brother,” Mortician said, hooting with laughter.
“I guess you right, Mort,” Outlaw agreed without the zest he usually displayed. “At least she still fuckin’ here to keep her pussy to herself, though.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Optimism and anxiety plagued Zoann as Matthew opened the door to the log cabin and indicated she go in. After doing nothing more than looking after Dinah or sitting on her ass for more than a week, Zoann took a breath of relief at being away. Matthew stayed close to her, barely allowing her to take care of Ryan, insisting her healing wounds and new baby took precedence. Perhaps, but she’d threatened to seriously fuck them up if they tried to keep Ryan away from her.
They’d given in. Brilliant reprobates.
Still. Christopher, Johnnie, Mortician, and the other four shadowed her everywhere. She was acquainted with Digger, Stretch, and Arrow, but not Ghost. They questioned who called her, who emailed her, why she needed to use her tablet, how long she intended to stay outside. She was surprised they hadn’t put a camera in the bathroom to monitor her activity there.
They. Were. Driving. Her. Fucking. CRAZY.
She had little female support. Kendall had decided to stay away longer. Bailey had left again and Meggie? She helped out whenever she could, but Zoann bet Meggie would kill Christopher sooner rather than later. Zoann understood why Val called him Mr. Psycho Stalker. He had gone absolutely insane. Meggie told Zoann about the birth control fiasco and the blowup between them, although Val had already dis
hed it to her.
Christopher didn’t do fear well. If she’d ever doubted it, his short-temper with Meggie confirmed it. Meggie couldn’t pacify him and she tried. Zoann had witnessed Meggie swearing to Christopher she’d keep her pills with her and never try to get pregnant again. She’d witnessed her dickhead brother ordering Meggie to take the pill while he watched. She’d comforted Meggie and told her there was always adoption. That was the problem, though. Christopher’s sudden decision not to get Meggie pregnant again contrasted Meggie’s desire for another baby.
She was miserable because she wanted to please him and he was miserable because Meggie wasn’t happy. Zoann hoped Meggie was already pregnant, although she wouldn’t put it past her idiot, overprotective-of-Meggie brother to demand she abort the baby.
Matthew wrapped his arms around her and kissed the back of her head. “Thoughts?”
“Meggie,” she admitted with a sigh, attempting to focus on the room she stood in, but unable to.
He tightened his arms around her and kissed the bridge between her neck and shoulder. “As outrageous as Outlaw acting toward her, I get where he’s coming from.”
Surprised, she attempted to twist to face him and her ponytail bounced against his nose. “You do?”
Bleakness settled into his face and tightened his mouth. “Zoann, you flat lined.” He released her and walked deeper into the place, all cedar wood and exposed beams.
The huge fireplace on the other side of the open floor plan blazed with warmth. An L-shaped breakfast bar divided the kitchen area, filled with modern appliances. A silver ice bucket, overflowing with ice, sat on the small, square table, next to a huge bouquet of roses.
The sound of his voice captured her attention away from the lovely surroundings.
“All I could think of was how empty my life would be without you,” he went on in a subdued voice. “It drove me fucking wild. I never knew what a broken heart was. Seeing you like that made me feel like my heart was bursting into a million different pieces. I wanted to fucking die and I swore I’d do whatever I needed to do to keep you.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 154
