Faced with his brothers’ happiness with their women really emphasized his solitary existence. Fine, before Kendall. Shit, after her.
“Johnnie?” Kendall whispered again, the question in her voice propelling him forward once more.
Her heels clipped on the concrete and kept in step with his heavier tread. Finally, they reached his room and he unlocked the door, stepping aside so she could enter. Without bidding, she flipped on the light and sucked in a breath.
Not one visible trace of the time she’d lived there with him remained.
“Tell me what you have to say and then leave.” He slammed the door, the sound defining his cold tone. “Why are you here?”
“M-Meggie,” she stammered. “Meggie invited me.”
Megan would. She and Kendall had such a complicated relationship. One moment, they hated one another and, the next, they were defending each other. He’d never understand those two as long as he fucking lived.
His frustration grew and he thrust his hands through his hair. “And you’re such besties with her, that you came right over to the party?” he snapped.
Tears rushing to her eyes, she placed a hand on her bulging belly, round with his baby. Once more, the gesture captured his attention. He stared at stomach, at her, into her brown gaze. In that moment, he hated her. Simply because, he loved her so much it hurt.
“I came for you,” she admitted softly, her tears twisting his heart.
“Shut the fuck up,” he growled. “You didn’t come for me. You left me. Remember?”
“Johnnie?”
No one ever said his name the way she did. Even now, when she sounded so heartbroken. “Stop it, Kendall. Tell me the real reason you’re here? It’s been six months. What do you want now?”
She took a step towards him, but halted when he backed away. “You,” she said around a sob. “Us. I love you.”
With his emotions running so high, her confession couldn’t have come at a worse time. He laughed with bitterness. “Love me? Do you? As I recall, you threw my feelings back into my face. You walked away from me on our wedding day. Thanks for loving me so much that you couldn’t believe whatever I did was to help you. I never once turned my fucking back on you. I busted my ass, walking a tightrope to keep you and Christopher happy.”
“That asshole can’t be happy!” she cried. “It wasn’t your place to make him happy. Meggie is there for that. It was your place to make me happy.”
“Relationships are a two-way street. What the fuck did you ever do to please me?”
“Fucked you.”
“I can get fucked any time I want to,” he scoffed, a twinge of guilt hitting him. She’d been hurt enough. He’d promised to always protect her. Throwing in her face that he fucked other women would definitely hurt her. If she truly gave a fuck about him. After convincing himself for months that she didn’t give two shits about him, he was wavering in that belief. All it took to change his mind was her return. He’d had enough. “I have been fucking. Every night,” he told her.
Her face crumpled and all the fight left her. Instead of vindication, Johnnie felt like a cruel fuckhead.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s over, Kendall. We’re done.” The words hurt him. She was just a few feet away from him. He could touch her, taste her, and love her. She’d returned. But for how long? What would send her packing this time? That decided him.
They. Were. Over.
It had to be this way, especially after the last few moments. He was lashing out, because that’s what he did. He sought revenge on the people who hurt him. Kendall had crushed him.
“We’ll do nothing but hurt one another. There’s no coming back for us.”
He walked to his window and glanced out. He could only see the trees here, not even the trail that led to their houses. Well, not his house. The space where he’d intended to build Kendall a home was just a plot of land with lines of demarcation.
Behind him, Kendall’s sobs reached him and he stiffened, clenching his fists. He felt disconnected and out of place, not unlike the feelings he’d had before she came into his life in a bold bid to frame Christopher. She’d been different then. It was before she’d lost her mother and her little sister. Before Spoon’s violence.
By the time Spoon finished with her, she’d been a shell of her former self. She’d struggled to adjust. Her trust had been out the window, as had her decision-making skills.
She’d fucked up time and again while she’d been on her mission to rescue her little sister. Her bullshit had forced Johnnie to borrow her from society to discover her exact motives. Little by little, she’d gotten under his skin and he’d fallen in love with her. He’d only learned about love thanks to Megan.
Kendall had had so many problems, but it hadn’t mattered. Beneath it all, she’d still been Kendall. A survivor and a woman who managed to face each day head-on, despite everything. Johnnie would’ve spent the rest of his life at her side whether she had issues or not. But he was human. He couldn’t turn off his fucking emotions and wash away his fucking past, out of convenience, for her sake.
Unbuttoning his tuxedo jacket, he flung it over the back of his desk chair. She’d moved to the bed and sat. Her head hung. Loose strands of her pinned-up red hair slipped just past her shoulders. Once, it had been a gorgeous, cascade of fire, before Spoon had cut it off, to humiliate her during the torture he inflicted on her.
Rage and resentment slid into Johnnie. He should’ve kept Spoon alive for a year or two, to terrorize him. His death had been too quick, his injuries too ordinary.
However, Kendall…
Johnnie had sworn to Kendall that Spoon would be taken care of within a day after he’d kidnapped her and taken her to his house in Long Beach. Yes, Johnnie had given her a timeframe that he hadn’t kept. Twenty-four hours had turned into another and another and another. So much shit had come up. Her discovery of her sister’s suicide, K-P’s death, and Johnnie’s shooting. Christopher’s house being blown up.
The war Kendall had waged with Megan from the moment they’d met.
Weeks later, on the day Spoon’s clubhouse had finally been blown up, Kendall had played right the fuck into the man’s hands and went in search of a bullshit flash drive.
Why couldn’t she have believed in him? The club whores under the Dwellers’ protection had more faith in him, than Kendall ever had.
Worse, he could talk to any of them, instead of bottling this shit up, because he feared Kendall’s reactions. Jealousy over Megan. Accusations of desertion and a lack of compassion.
She pushed hair behind her ear, drawing his attention. He still found her to be one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Red splotches of distress marred her creamy, freckle-less skin. She wore an ankle-length burgundy colored dress that only added to her mystery and allure. Her pregnancy made her look ripe and sexy, though he could never express the thought. Not with her self-image issues.
She scraped her fingers over her head.
“Your hair grows fast,” he murmured before he could stop himself.
She glanced up. His head hurt at seeing her tear-stained face, and reddened nose and eyes. Sniffling, she nodded. “What about the baby?” she whispered, not commenting on his observation, still too focused on their relationship.
Clenching his jaw, he shrugged in a display of nonchalance, when, in reality, he couldn’t wait to meet their child. “I’ll always be its father.”
Covering her face, she released another sob. Without being told, he knew his words devastated her. He sighed, his anger wavering, for the moment. “Christopher gave me your address, phone number, everything. He even had a false marriage certificate, so I could keep tabs on your progress. I was more than willing to use it and fight to get you back. I spoke to your doctor once.” He gave her a half-smile. “Did he ever tell you? Probably not,” he said before she responded. “His words were, ‘Brooks warned me you’d try something underhanded, but, let me tell you, Mr. Donovan, she’s bett
er off without you. She walked away from you for a reason. If you love her, don’t pressure her into reconciliation.”
He glared at her, searching for the blazing fury inside of himself, that he’d lived with for so many months. Not wanting to give an inch, he shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “You knew I’d look for you and I’d be desperate to get you back. But you had your escape well planned.”
She’d gone pale and hatred seethed in him. If only he knew who he hated more at the moment. Her or himself.
They stared at each other for the longest time.
She broke first and whispered, “What are you talking about?”
“You told Brooks that bullshit and Stanton was only too fucking glad to repeat it to me,” he snarled with a bitter scowl.
“I didn’t,” she cried. “I swear. I didn’t know you’d called.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I’ve never lied to you,” she said around sobs, blinking rapidly to clear her eyes of the tears overflowing from them.
Johnnie paused at her words, then shook himself. “I loved you enough, at the time, to follow that motherfucker’s orders,” he spat, his anger increasing at the depths of his belief for her words. She hadn’t ever lied to him. She just hadn’t believed in him. “The more I thought about it, the more fucked off I became. How the fuck he knew if I was better off without you, unless you said it?”
“Oh God!” she cried, her features lined with so much pain and horror that Johnnie growled and turned away from her for a moment to regain his composure.
He fucking hated seeing her so devastated.
His nostrils flared. “I’d intended to confront Christopher and demand to know why he’d send me after you when you didn’t want to fucking see me.”
She drew in deep breaths. Johnnie knew it was to calm herself. This was a technique she’d adopted months ago. He’d always taken her in his arms and held her tightly, reassuring her that he was right there for her. He’d whisper to her until she found a semblance of peace again.
Now, he wanted to hug her and love her. But he also wanted to shake the fuck out of her. Near or far, she tormented him.
“I didn’t tell Brooks or Stanton to say any of that to you,” she swore in a desperate, tear-thickened voice. “Even if I had, how would Christopher know that?”
“Christopher got Riley to find you,” he shouted. “He had all the bullshit I needed to be your “husband”.” He used air quotations to emphasize his point. “I know Riley’s MO. He must’ve kept tabs on you for a few days before he reported to Christopher.”
Christopher was fucking ruthless. If only Kendall knew exactly who the fuck Stanton was, she’d be crushed. After talking to Brooks, Johnnie knew the man hadn’t meant for things to go down as he had. Once Johnnie got the full story, Brooks had been caught between Christopher’s and Johnnie’s promises. Where Christopher would’ve fucked him up quickly, Johnnie would’ve tortured the fuck out of Brooks first.
So while Christopher had paid off Brooks, who in turned had paid off his fucking brother-in-law—Dr. fucking Stanton—to find out shit about Kendall, Johnnie had sworn a brutal death to Brooks if he released one more tidbit about Kendall to Riley.
Once Johnnie described to Brooks exactly how he intended to torture and kill him, Kendall’s records were sealed to Riley, and, thus, Christopher. It just boded ill for Brooks that Christopher had already given Kendall’s information to Johnnie. If he’d confronted Christopher and accused him of sending Johnnie after Kendall to separate them once and for all, Brooks still would’ve been a dead man.
“Before I confronted Christopher about what I believed were his motives, I went to Brooks first. Turns out, Brooks did tell his friend that, but he didn’t think Christopher would get involved, and search for you or get illegal documents on my behalf. Imagine what would’ve happened had I confronted my brother? He would’ve killed Brooks.”
She blinked and some of her sadness cleared away. “Christopher searched for me?”
Cocking his head to the side, Johnnie studied her a moment, then lifted a brow, curious at her breathless surprise.
Sniffling again, she flushed and averted her gaze.
“Not for the reasons you’re thinking.”
“What would that be?”
Deciding to sit next to her, he thumbed the wetness on her cheeks. Her skin was as soft as he remembered, her scent as addictive as ever. Of all the scenarios he’d anticipated, it wasn’t Kendall’s attraction to Christopher. He gave her a thin smile. “You think he looked for you to fuck you.”
She averted her eyes. “I do not.”
“The very least you can be is honest,” he told her tiredly. “What happened between the two of you in Hawaii? When I got there…” His voice trailed off.
“What do you mean?” Discomfort settled into her features and she squirmed. “You think Christopher hit on me?”
“I know he took a bullet for you.”
“Yes,” she answered carefully. “He saved my life.”
“He did. But he also despises you. Just how deeply his hatred goes only dawned on me after you walked away. Until then…I hoped he’d overcome his dislike someday. After Hawaii, I noticed something different. As if he wouldn’t tolerate you, not even for me, although he said he would. So what happened? What did you do?”
Her eyes narrowed and she bristled. “What makes you think I did anything? He fucks everything he sees, so how am I suddenly to blame if something, in fact, happened between us?”
Her words underscored one of their biggest problems—an inability to openly communicate. Based on her reactions, there was sexual tension towards Christopher from Kendall.
She needed to talk to Johnnie, not hesitate to share anything or everything. Maybe, though, she argued every point because of her profession. He grinned at her. “Defense Attorney Miller.”
The annoyance creasing her brow smoothed into pleasure. She offered him a shy smile, although she still looked so sad. Then, again, he couldn’t remember a time when he’d made her truly happy. No matter how he tried, she’d found fault.
“Why would he search for me after I left?”
“To kill you.” Christopher hadn’t said that and, at the time, Johnnie had been too relieved to dwell on just why Christopher would have Riley, the PI on the club’s payroll search for Kendall. As the days went on, though, it came to Johnnie because he knew his brother so well.
Kendall had dropped completely out of sight and it would’ve been the perfect time to get rid of the woman he held solely responsible for Megan losing their son, Patrick. Johnnie knew, too, Megan had stayed his hand. Perhaps not in reality, although Johnnie couldn’t be certain. Christopher didn’t hide much from Megan, who expected better of Christopher, than to kill just for the hell of it.
It didn’t matter if the thought of her disapproval, or her actual disapproval, kept Christopher from his plans. Megan was still responsible because of how much he loved her.
“Have you ever been in love, Kendall?”
She blinked at his question, as surprised seemingly as him that he’d asked it. But he’d never known the answer. They’d never taken the time to really get to know each other, when they’d had a chance. The club had been going wild with Logan’s reappearance and Christopher’s marriage.
“With you.”
“Besides me? Before me,” he clarified and scowled at her smirk.
“Suppose it’s been since you?” she goaded.
Suppose it had been? “I’d be pissed the fuck off,” he told her.
She licked her lips and beamed a smile at him. Despite the red splotches and the lingering tears, her face lit up. “Then you do still care.”
“You walked away from me. You severed all ties with me,” he reminded her again. “If you’ve fallen in love while you’re still carrying my child, then your reasons for walking away went deeper than getting yourself together, as you claimed.”
“The answer
is no to both questions. I’ve only ever loved you.” She shifted and straightened her back, grunting, starting to scoot back then thinking better of it. “What does that have to do with anything?”
He swept her with a look, noticing her stiff posture. With the little person she carried inside her, she needed to be in a more comfortable position. “Is your back hurting?”
“Yes. So are my feet and ankles.”
“You shouldn’t have worn heels.” He got to his feet again, then kneeled down and removed her shoes. He massaged each foot and she wiggled her toes.
“Curl up and rest, Kendall.”
“Okay,” she responded with a contented sigh.
Too contented.
Fuck him.
He shot to his feet.
No, fuck her.
He stiffened. “I need to get to the reception. I have a date waiting for me.”
Her eyes widened and whatever sparkle that had lit in them in the last few minutes flickered out.
“A date? Or someone you’ve been dating?”
Once again, he wavered at the hurt and defeat returning to her face, but he steeled his resolve and shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“I propositioned Christopher,” she blurted. “In Hawaii, I wanted to have sex with him.”
Be careful what you wish for, fuckhead.
He’d wanted brutal honesty from her and she’d given it to him.
To do something with his hands instead of ramming his fists through the wall, he grabbed his tuxedo jacket and put it on again. Before he did something fucking stupid, he needed to get the fuck away.
“Are you attracted to him?” he asked. As much as he hated to hear her confession, it didn’t really surprise him. It did make him happy to have it out in the open, and even happier she’d admitted the truth.
She must’ve seen his displeasure, so she attempted to turn the tables around. “Aren’t you attracted to Meggie?”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 209
