Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “Only when he wants to be. Otherwise, you’re rotting away all alone.”

  She halted, owing Fin more than a brush off. He’d been willing to marry her. He’d also been willing to move in so she wouldn’t be alone at night with her backaches and sadness. They would’ve made love, too, which, in retrospect wasn’t all that appealing. In all honesty, it hadn’t been such a great idea to begin with.

  Fin had come up with all of it and Bailey was so confused with everything, she’d agreed.

  “You’re overthinking this,” he said gently. “We’re friends and we could make this work. Maybe, we should move back home, away from here, so you’ll forget—”

  “I’ll never forget. I’m having his baby, remember?”

  “Bailey—”

  “Fin, I’m sorry I got you into this.” The restrained violence in Lucas’s eyes had shocked her. He’d been a scary biker to Fin and she didn’t doubt he would’ve done something horrible to her friend if Fin hadn’t run off. He’d also left her alone with Lucas, not knowing if she were in danger or not. Pursing her lips, she eyed him. “I think of you as a brother. I never should’ve agreed to marry you or sleep with you.”

  “Bailey—”

  “I have to go. Lucas is probably outside.”

  Not giving Fin a chance to respond, she hurried off.

  Mortician leaned against the wall near the club entrance and released the smoke from his roll into the air, glancing at his watch. It seemed like it was taking forever for Prez and the others to get the fuck gone, so Mort could go to the room he had Bailey in. As far as they knew, she was there to visit Meggie, Kendall, and Chester. No, as far as he claimed.

  They knew he was fucking her, which wouldn’t be a problem if he hadn’t claimed to be able to give up her pussy any time he felt like it. If they discovered how much he lived for the moment he felt Bailey beneath him, he’d never hear the fucking end of it.

  “Coast clear, Mortician.”

  Digger’s amused voice reached through Mortician’s thoughts and he snapped his head up. His little brother hadn’t been around too often lately. Ever since he’d met that bitch, Peyton, the night Prez handed John Boy his cut back.

  Now, the motherfucker could bring his ass right the fuck back where he’d been if he was starting out with bullshit.

  Mortician dragged on the weed and held the smoke in before releasing it. “What fucking coast? Not like I’m hiding shit.”

  “Just that bitch you can’t stop fucking.”

  The moment Mortician shot forward and grabbed his brother’s cut was the moment Mortician knew Digger was baiting him. He shoved him back. “Fuck you, son,” he growled, frustrated. “And don’t call Bailey a bitch if you like walking on two fucking legs.”

  Snatching the joint from him, Digger laughed. Something about his demeanor was off, but Mort couldn’t put his finger on it. His brother’s liveliness was gone. He seemed distant, even when he pretended to be interested in the goings-on of their club.

  “I’m about five thousand bucks closer to a bigger bank account.”

  “Fuck off. Just because I’ll fuck you up if you call Bailey a bitch don’t mean shit. It just mean she get respect as K-P’s daughter and my friend.”

  “What bitch you have for a friend?”

  “Meggie girl and Red. Even Chester a little bit, assfuck. If you’d been around, you’d fucking know.”

  “I been doing what I got to do, so fuck off.”

  “What the fuck you have to do that’s more important than our club?”

  Digger went rigid and his mouth tightened into a thin line, a sure sign he was involved in shit he shouldn’t be.

  “Not everything revolve around the Death Dwellers MC, Mortician. You might not have no options, but I do.”

  “Don’t,” Mortician warned, “not if you don’t want to need superglue to reattach your fucking head to your neck. You know that’s bullshit. I’m here because I want to be here. No other fucking reason. I thought you were here because you wanted to be. If you not, get to fucking stepping. No skin off my fucking teeth. I still got my fucking money. You spend your shit as fast as you get it. Your dumb ass going to get in serious problems. All you ever need is more fucking money to spend.”

  “And all you ever do is talk about the bank you have. Stingy motherfucker. Can’t even open your wallet to pay the fucking bet. Just determined to tip around this motherfucker and stay one step ahead.”

  Mortician clenched his jaw to stop himself from knocking Digger on his ass. He wouldn’t fucking stop until he’d pummeled his little brother to a pulp. “This about the fucking principle. I couldn’t give less of a fuck about some fucking bills, but I do want to win.”

  “You think I don’t?”

  Cocking his head to the side, Mortician studied his brother carefully. “You stop fronting for bitches and you’ll fucking win. All you ever fucking want to do is impress girls. You one shallow motherfucker—”

  “At least I want to impress girls. You don’t even offer them that—”

  “I don’t have to offer them shit.” Mortician squeezed the tip of the joint to extinguish it and glared at Digger. “They want to be with me because of me. If them bitches don’t, then they come out the loser because I don’t give a fuck one way or the other. I’m definitely not buying a bitch.”

  Digger huffed in a breath and rubbed his forehead.

  “This argument silly, Digger,” Mortician said with a heavy sigh. “You got shit going on, then handle it. I’m here for whatever you need. Whether you in or out. But if you leaving, you have to let Outlaw know.”

  “I’m not out. I just…look, I’m going to visit our old man for a minute.”

  Mortician drew his brows together. “Sharper?”

  “We got another old man, fool?”

  “We don’t even have that old man. He’s a straight-up motherfucker and you don’t have business around him.”

  “Maybe, not to you. But, to me, I feel different.”

  Digger was a grown ass man, so Mortician couldn’t do fuck-all to stop his brother from kicking it with their father. Let his dumb ass find out shit for himself.

  Although Mortician got a strange vibe from Digger, he couldn’t spend his time trying to figure the shit out. He was too busy staying one step ahead of all those motherfuckers who wanted to make him out to be a loser just because he wanted to be with his girl.

  Part Three: The Bet

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Lamentations

  Present Day

  Dizziness assailed Bailey the moment she opened her eyes and blinked, the brightness of her surroundings throwing her off-kilter. A horrible taste filled her mouth, her struggle to reclaim a sense of time and place an uphill battle.

  “She awakens,” a woman’s voice sneered.

  Heaving in a deep breath, Bailey attempted to stand, just then realizing her hands and feet were tied to a chair. Memory seeped into her brain.

  She’d been at her condo with Meggie and…

  “Think you’re too much to talk to me, bitch?”

  Before Bailey answered, pain careened against the side of her head and she cried out. She pulled against her bonds again, too slow. Her entire body seemed weighted down, working at a snail’s pace. Worse, the sluggishness of her brain hampered her.

  A beautiful, dark skinned woman walked into her line of vision, and Bailey squinted at the utter hatred blazing in her face. The woman’s eyes swept her with malicious deliberation.

  “I’m Mrs. Williams,” she said coldly, thumping Bailey against the side of her head. “What does that mean to you? Do you really know who I am?

  Bailey wiggled her hands, a tiny recollection of Lucas and their honeymoon breaking free. When he’d bound her to the chair, it had been all about pleasure.

  Mrs. Williams balled her fist and punched Bailey’s jaw, then got right up in her face. “I asked you a fucking question. Do you know who I am?”

  “Sh-should I?” Bailey pushed out, her head lulling to
the side.

  “Charlemagne, she’s drugged up. You not getting much out of her right now.” That sounded like Digger, Lucas’s brother.

  What was he doing there?

  “I have a heart condition,” she slurred, searching her mind for answers. Hadn’t she been explaining that to Meggie? Had she gotten that far? She’d just found out herself and had decided against telling Lucas, not wanting to influence him one way or the other to be with her. “Mitral Valve Prolapse with some leakage.” She frowned, grasping at the memories of all that Dr. Will had told her. She was scared. “Tachycardia, too.”

  Was that the reason her heart was beating so irregularly?

  Mrs. Williams slapped her again. “I don’t give a fuck what you have.”

  “I’m having a baby.”

  “I especially don’t give a fuck about your brat. I have his son. I own him. His dick. His heart—”

  “Fuck, Char, enough,” Digger ordered. “Mortician different now. He’s going to kill me, you, and fucking Sharper for taking Bailey.”

  “You think?” Mrs. Williams scoffed, narrowing her dark eyes, before backing away and nodding to her. “Untie her.”

  “No.”

  “Either you do it or I’m getting Osti in here and leaving her to him,” she said with meaning, the menace in her voice sending a shiver through Bailey.

  Digger blew out a breath and stepped next to Mrs. Williams, staring at Bailey as if he were trying to communicate a silent message to her. He crouched in front of her, laid his hand on Bailey’s knee and began to untie the rope around her ankles.

  “Give me five minutes with Bailey,” he said, after a moment of silence.

  “You must be out of your fucking mind. Think I don’t know you’re trying to help this slut out? You chose. You, Mark,” she snapped. “Either her life or Tyler’s and Lucas’s life.”

  Digger’s jaw clenched and he looked at Bailey, water filling his eyes, before he gritted his teeth and swallowed. “Meggie now, too,” he said with misery and hung his head. “I’ll fuck you again if you give me five minutes with her.”

  Interest lit Mrs. Williams’s eyes and she studied her nails. “Will you make Peyton watch?”

  “What the fuck’s wrong with you, cunt?” Digger exploded, shooting to his feet. “What’s with all this either or shit?” He shoved her back and jerked her by the elbow. “I fucked you to buy Mort some fucking time. I took his woman to save his and his son’s life. I left Meggie to die. I got Peyton involved in this bullshit.”

  “No, Moncette got that bitch involved,” Mrs. Williams snapped.

  Bailey’s chest was beginning to hurt, and her heart was pounding so fast now she felt even more lightheaded. She’d heard the name Moncette before, but she couldn’t remember where.

  “Char, why the fuck you doing this? You fucked over my brother. Not the other way around. You almost broke him. Why do you want to destroy him and his son? Your son. All you have to do is send Tyler to him.”

  Mrs. Williams lowered her lashes and flared her nostrils. “Just like Logan feared Big Joe, Sharper fears Outlaw. Whoever we have to use to bring him down, we will.” She shrugged. “If Megan Caldwell is dead that’s all the better. That’s Sharper’s ultimate goal. Destroy him, his wife, and his son for killing Big Joe and, ultimately Logan.”

  “Outlaw didn’t fuckin’ kill that motherfucking Logan. John Boy did,” Digger shouted in frustration.

  To Bailey, it sounded as if he’d been arguing on their behalf for a while.

  Mrs.Williams shrugged. “Kendall has been very helpful. Unwittingly, but she’s helped, so he lives.”

  Digger stomped around Bailey. “Mortician didn’t do anything to Boss or Logan, so…”

  “He sided with Outlaw,” she said simply.

  “And his son, the boy you gave birth to?”

  Her lower lip trembled, but then she shrugged. “Collateral damage.”

  “He’s eleven, Charlemagne. Send him to—”

  “Shut up,” she ordered, digging into her pocket and pulling out a syringe, her face crumpling when she held it up. “Empty.”

  Digger shoved a hand through his dreads. “I’ll get you a hit if you let me talk to Bailey.”

  Tears in her eyes, Mrs. Williams looked at him and then cocked her head to the side, a slow smile sliding across her mouth. “Osti can get it for me. Undress this bitch for me and I’ll give you your five minutes.”

  Bailey frowned and Digger cursed viciously.

  “Fuck,” he said wearily. “I’m dead anyway.” He stepped behind Bailey and encircled his arms around her, settling on the top button of her blouse. He bent and brought his mouth to her ear. “I have to give her a show.”

  Bailey started to struggle, but he tightened his hold on her.

  “You were shot up with morphine. Your reflexes are too slow to fight, so just let me be. That’s the only way I can keep you safe right now.”

  Freezing her movements, Bailey sucked in a breath as Digger’s words penetrated her brain. “Is my baby okay?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  Cool air brushed over her skin and a sob caught in Bailey’s throat as Digger yanked her shirt off before brushing her hair aside and removing her bra. She was already wearing a nursing bra because her breasts had gotten so much bigger.

  “Lick her nipples.”

  The moment Mrs. Williams gave the order Bailey covered her breasts with her hands. For some reason, she hadn’t thought to do that before. Her brain felt so clouded and the pain of Mrs. Williams’s hits didn’t help. Logic and rational thoughts flashed in and out of Bailey’s head, not allowing her to grasp anything for too long.

  As one, her pants and panties were slid to her ankles and Mrs. Williams dark gaze zeroed in on Bailey’s belly.

  “Lucas caresses his baby?” Char asked, staring at Bailey’s stomach and gliding her fingers over the curve of it. She shoved her palm hard against the baby bump, bitterness twisting her face. “Does he? You don’t wear pregnancy well. You’re fat everywhere.” She pressed on Bailey’s belly again and Bailey drew in a sharp breath at the pain, shoving Mrs. Williams back.

  “Stop touching me.”

  “You dared to put your hands on me? Do you know who the fuck I am?”

  “Mrs. Williams,” Bailey said slowly. Not that the name meant anything to her, other than a woman who’d been calling her from LA. Anyway… “I barely know who I am right now.”

  “You’re Lucas’s cunt,” she snapped. “He only married your ugly ass because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants and got you knocked up.”

  Swaying, Bailey pursed her lips. “I wasn’t pregnant when we got married.”

  Mrs. Williams growled and kicked Bailey’s leg, laughing when Bailey cried out and bent to grab it. Before she could, the woman kicked her again and Bailey went crashing to her hands and knees. In her vulnerable position, Mrs. Williams kicked her back and thighs, reining blows on Bailey’s head and forearms when Bailey raised them to shield herself. She curled into a little ball in an attempt to protect her baby, the sobs bouncing in her head reverberating through her body. She didn’t realize she was the one crying until Mrs. Williams snarled, “shut the fuck up,” and put a gun to her head.

  “Char, fuck—”

  The barrel clicked and Bailey screamed, terror now added to her sluggishness and pain.

  “Russian Roulette, Bailey,” Mrs. Williams said with a happy laugh. Happy, like she’d just heard a joke. “Do you know the game?”

  Nodding frantically, Bailey gazed up at the other woman. “Don’t do this.”

  Mrs. Williams pressed the gun against Bailey’s forehead and pulled the trigger. “Lucky cock stealer.”

  “Char, ask her about the fucking letters,” Digger demanded. “She can’t answer fuck all if her fucking brain is on the floor.”

  “You’re ruining my fun,” Mrs. Williams whined, pressing the weapon to the crown of Bailey’s head and pulling the trigger. She got on the floor an
d crawled in front of Bailey, aiming the gun at Bailey’s face. Opening the chamber, she grinned, a gleam in her eyes. “One more time.”

  Mrs. Williams hadn’t finished the words before Digger fell on top of Bailey, the report of the gun deafening.

  Jerking, Digger groaned, and Bailey screamed.

  “Markus!” Mrs. Williams cried, pulling Digger off of Bailey.

  “What the hell happened in here?” a new voice barked out. “What…Mark!”

  “It’s her fault,” Mrs. Williams cried, pointing at Bailey with the gun.

  The older man scowled at her. “Then why are you holding the gun and my son’s shot, Charlemagne?”

  “Sharper,” she drawled. “I’m sorry.”

  He grunted and yelled, “Osti!” Stepping over Digger’s body, he bent and swept Bailey into his arms.

  It seeped into Bailey’s brain that she was looking at Lucas’s father, the man who had caused her husband so much grief and pain.

  He dropped her onto a daybed and swept his gaze over her, then jabbed a needle into Bailey’s thigh. She hissed in a breath while Sharper paused long enough to speak to another man who’d just walked in.

  A hot feeling swept over Bailey and her brain fogged over a little more. She retained a bit of awareness, but she was more heavy-limbed, too.

  “Mark alive, Osti?” Sharper called.

  “Yeah, fuck, I’m alive,” Digger got out. “In pain like a motherfucker.”

  “You’ve done good, son. We’ll take care of you. Find Peyton, so she can look after Mark.” He signaled for the broad-shouldered man to help Digger out. Once they were gone, he turned to Mrs. Williams. “Char, a new item just arrived. In room 2B. Assess her value.”

  Mrs. Williams screwed up her face. “Have you?”

  “Pretty. A whore not a runaway. Seventeen. Sucked me and Osti off. Could be better. Begged me not to fuck her in the ass.” He shrugged. “I decided to let you have her.”

  “Let me guess.” She nodded to Bailey. “You want her?”

  “Come, pet,” he said, holding out his arms.

  Her lip poked out, Mrs. Williams stepped into Sharper’s embrace and something occurred to Bailey. “You’re Lucas’s stepmother?”