Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  Megan gave him a skeptical look. She had fucking ears. She could hear their boy coughing like a motherfucker. “How far away is the skating park from where you are?” she asked, looking pale.

  Christopher would find that nurse-bitch and send her ass in there to see to Megan.

  “Don’t worry ‘bout how the fuck far away it is,” Christopher interrupted. “Get my boy there and keep him fuckin’ safe for me ‘til I arrive.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Wait, let me tell him goodbye,” Megan cried.

  “Put him back on. His ma wanna talk to him.”

  “Mommie?”

  “Daddy is coming for you,” she swore the moment she heard CJ’s voice. “Behave for the boy, okay? As soon as I see you I’m going to hug you so tight.”

  “You ain’t tell me you fuckin’ knew my phone number, boy.”

  “Dig put in pocket.”

  And then fucking left him.

  “Listen up, CJ. How ‘bout this? How ‘bout you talk to your old man as fuckin’ long as our fuckin’ battery work?” Once his son hung up, the connection would be severed. Although the kid didn’t have to call, he had, but Christopher wouldn’t relax until his boy was back with him.

  “Hang on,” he instructed so he could give out orders. “Ghost, hang with Megan. Mort in between sitting with Bailey, check on Kendall. Johnnie, walk with me and get rid of the shit in the meat shack.”

  Anyone who’d helped Digger was their enemy, so Johnny nodded, unperturbed.

  “Mister…sir, there’s a letter,” the kid said, sounding as if he’d wised the fuck up and got the speakerphone on.

  “What does it say?” Megan asked.

  “Um, can I get killed if I read it?” the boy asked.

  “Sound like you already fuckin’ read it, motherfucker,” Christopher growled. “Answer my wife so I can get the fuck.”

  “Where’s Gabe?” Megan asked into the silence after the kid finished the letter.

  Christopher’s mind spun. On the one hand, he couldn’t fucking believe Digger had fucking left such an incriminating fucking letter in his boy’s pocket. On the other hand…

  “Christopher?”

  “Fuck, go get that motherfucker and see to his injuries,” he grumbled, under his breath. “Don’t fuckin’ release him yet. Just take him somewhere until I think ‘bout this fuckin’ letter.” He turned and kissed Megan. “Gabe fine.”

  “Are you sure? Bunny loves him a lot.”

  He sighed. And Megan adored Bunny. “Fuck, I know she love the motherfucker. He fine.”

  “Okay.”

  Because she believed him, she dropped the subject.

  “Rest,” Christopher ordered, determined to put Gabe to rights again. Once she was out of the hospital, he’d tell her the truth. “Hear me? I’m gettin’ our boy and bringin’ him home.”

  She thumbed his lips and smiled sleepily. “I know.”

  “Hold on…what the fuck your name, kid?”

  “Diesel,” he called.

  “Listen up, Diesel. If I lose the fuckin’ call, dial me right the fuck back. Don’t show a motherfucker that letter. Okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He dialed and a moment later Megan’s hospital room phone began to ring. He handed her the receiver, after answering. “Diesel? CJ?”

  “’Law!” CJ squealed.

  “Megan?”

  Her shining eyes told him he’d done this shit right. “If my phone die, boy, your ma on a land line. If she fall the fuck to sleep, Ghost in here with her.” He kissed her again. “Bye, baby.”

  She smiled at him. “Bye, Outlaw.”

  Although he snickered, he shook his head. He’d gotten her point, but he still didn’t like her to call him Outlaw.

  Walking out into the hallway, Johnnie said in a low voice, “You really want Gabe spared?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered back, well aware Megan was on the phone.

  Within five minutes, he hit the road in Johnnie’s Navigator, basking in the sound of his son’s little voice.

  Christopher broke every fucking traffic law on the fucking books to get to his boy. By some fucking miracle, the badges didn’t stop him, and he figured it might be fucking time to sit the fuck down with Father Wilcunt and ask some fucking questions about spirituality. The little fat motherfucker was now the club’s chaplain. Megan and Bailey had put it the fuck in his head he should be fucking called Jazzman. He hadn’t liked Christopher’s suggestion of Priestboy. Mortician had wanted Prelate.

  What-the-fuck-ever. The self-righteous assfuck was in and happier than a motherfucker.

  Christopher’s cell phone had died a couple of hours ago, so he’d lost the connection to his son and Megan had fallen asleep before that. Johnnie had taken her place on the phone, and Christopher wouldn’t think about why that motherfucker was in Megan’s room and not his fucking bitch’s.

  The skating park came into view. Patches of frozen grass dotted the areas between large swatches of concrete that dipped into steep valleys and swerved up high. Several parking areas were located amongst the skating rinks, so Christopher pulled Johnnie’s Navigator into the closest one and exited. He walked the perimeter, scanning the area, but finding no sign of his son. Swallowing hard, he headed toward an arched wooden entry to another smaller park.

  Before he adjusted his gaze to get a good look, a ball of energy barreled from behind a tree.

  “’Law! ‘Law!”

  Laughing, he bent and opened his arms as CJ reached him. Relief flooded him and he lifted his son into his arms, squeezing tight, tears stinging his eyes.

  Fuck, Megan was right. Where the fuck had Outlaw gone? Outlaw wouldn’t fucking cry under any fucking circumstances.

  CJ coughed and leaned back in Christopher’s arms, grinning at him and squeezing his cheeks. “Where MegAnn?” he wheezed.

  “Your ma waitin’ for you, boy,” he said, deciding not to correct him about using Megan’s name. There’d be time for that later when he was rested and didn’t look so flushed and weak.

  Christopher felt CJ’s forehead. Hot. His boy was sick and had been left without medical attention. Assfuck, Digger, wouldn’t die easy or fucking quick.

  “I’m gonna fuckin’ bring you to see your ma, but first you gotta see a fuckin’ doctor.”

  “Want Mommie! No hospital. Doc ashfuck. Make me get a boo-boo.” He pointed to his shoulder.

  He couldn’t promise he wouldn’t get a shot of some type, which was the reason he was complaining because of the vaccinations from the last time. “You need to see the motherfucker cuz you sound real fuckin’ sick,” he explained as he started toward the Navigator.

  “Um…mis…mist…I-I mean…O-Outlaw,” a cracky-sounding voice called.

  Gasoline! He’d forgotten about the little motherfucker.

  “S-sir…um…O-outlaw?”

  Fuck, had he fucking sounded so fucked up as a teenager? He turned and found a skinny kid with brownish-blond hair and blue eyes staring in his direction. “Yo, Gasoline. Lemme bring you home.”

  “It’s…it’s Diesel,” he corrected in a trembling tone.

  He knew his fucking name had had some-fucking-thing to do with fucking fuel.

  Christopher stepped in his direction and Diesel backed up. “Listen up, Diesel,” he said on a sigh. He needed to get his boy to the fucking doctor, not pacify some scared little motherfucker. “You ain’t got no fuckin’ reason to be fuckin’ scared of me.”

  Diesel looked at his sneakers. “Digger said the same thing.”

  At hearing Digger’s name, Christopher tensed. “What the fuck else that motherfucker told you?”

  “That he’s sorry and you’d reward me if I took care of CJ, then he left and went back to get Bunny.”

  Adjusting CJ in his arms, Christopher studied the kid. Ghost said he’d fucking seen Digger kidnap Bunny and CJ, but was she still with Digger because she wanted to be? Or because she had no choice?

  But if Digger’s letter was tru
e, then he was on the run now, because he had no choice himself. He’d fucked up. The fucked up part was all the brothers believed Digger had betrayed the fucking club and any fucking change-of-heart now on Christopher’s part would make him seem like a weak motherfucker.

  “CJ called him Dig,” Diesel continued. “He didn’t mistreat him or Bunny. He was just really nervous.”

  Christopher gave Diesel a small nod. Something about the kid reminded Christopher of himself at that age. He wondered if Diesel had grown up in a houseful of women like Christopher had. Or if he had some-fucking-body close to him who fucking despised him, like Logan had with Christopher.

  CJ laid his head on Christopher’s shoulder. “I tired ‘Law.”

  “Okay, boy,” Christopher said gruffly. “Digger—”

  “Dig say we gotta a venture.”

  Christopher frowned. “A fuckin’ what?”

  “Adventure, I think,” Diesel said around a cough.

  That made fucking sense. Digger had always been fond of CJ. Maybe, he had taken him to get him away from fucking Sharper. Per-fucking-haps, he should let assfuck explain before he blew him the fuck away. In spite of leaving his boy with a little unknown motherfucker, he’d tried to fucking ease his boys fears and he’d fucking instructed Diesel to look the fuck after him.

  He started for the Navigator again.

  “C’mon, Diesel,” he called over his shoulder, not talking again until Diesel hurried to his side. “Lemme drop you the fuck off at your fuckin’ house and stuff your fuckin’ pockets with a few fuckin’ bills for lookin’ after my boy. Tell your ma you got the fuckin’ dollars from workin’ or some shit. Or what-the-fuck ever. Tell her what-the-fuck ever you fuckin’ want.” He reached the SUV, opened the back door and strapped CJ in. He hadn’t had time to stop by the club and get the car seat. Once he finished, he straightened and shut the door. “C’mon, hop in,” he ordered Diesel.

  The boy hesitated. “I don’t have a ma, sir. Um, M-mister Outlaw. I-I mean Outlaw.” He frowned. “I don’t even remember her. All I remember is my dad. I woke up one morning and he was gone.” His throat worked but then he shrugged. “He just left me, so you don’t have to drop me nowhere because I don’t have nowhere to be dropped off.”

  The last bit he said with an attitude, almost as if he dared Christopher to comment. Instead of getting angry at the kid’s disrespect, he rubbed his hands through his hair. “Sound like to me your fuckin’ pops was a fuckin’ assfuck.”

  Diesel’s lips compressed into a tight line, and his jaw clenched.

  “Ain’t nothin’ but a thing, boy. Cuz I been knowin’ a lot of fuckin’ assfucks in my fuckin’ life. A bunch of them motherfuckers shoulda covered their fuckin’ cocks cuz they wasn’t fit to have their cum make innocent fuckin’ babies. Even better woulda been havin’ their fuckin’ nuts crushed in a fuckin’ vise cuz they coulda covered their dicks a coupla times and dropped their loads in some bitches a few other times.”

  Diesel’s widened eyes made Christopher smile.

  “My ass take some gettin’ used to,” he said. “But I ain’t hurtin’ no women and I sure the fuck ain’t hurtin’ no kid. How the fuck old you be?”

  “Almost sixteen,” Diesel responded quietly.

  “When your pops skipped out?”

  “Six months ago.”

  That was a fucking long time for a kid to be looking after himself. Even when he was at his worst, Christopher had always had his mother to go to. And if not Patricia, Big Joe had been right there. Diesel sounded like he had no-fucking-body. “You been livin’ on the fuckin’ streets ever since?”

  Nodding, Diesel bowed his head.

  “You go to fuckin’ school?”

  “Not in the last six months.”

  Christopher shook his head. “Get the fuck in. From this fuckin’ point forward, you ain’t alone no-fuckin-more. You took care of my boy so we fuckin’ family now.”

  Diesel didn’t move immediately. He just studied Christopher. From the fear, uncertainty, and hope playing on his face, Christopher knew the kid’s mind was whirling. Not that he fucking blamed him. He was a strange motherfucker, inviting him to go to some fucking unknown place.

  Finally, Diesel nodded and looked toward the windshield, waving at CJ, who’d unstrapped himself and was sitting in the front passenger seat.

  “CJ loves you a lot,” Diesel said, loping to the passenger side. “I don’t ever remember talking about my dad, the way your son talks about you.”

  “Yeah?” Christopher said, careful to keep his face blank and not puff his chest out with pride.

  “Is MegAnn his mom?”

  “Yeah. Her name Megan. His mom and my wife.”

  Diesel gave him a small smile. Christopher didn’t need to ask if CJ had talked about her. He already knew.

  He looked up at the darkening sky. “Come on. We gotta get the fuck on the road. My boy need a fuckin’ doctor.”

  “Okay.”

  The moment Christopher and Diesel slid in, CJ squealed and scrambled to the back seat, clicking his seatbelt back into place while Christopher and Diesel did the same.

  “Deel come, too?” CJ asked as Christopher pulled out of the parking space.

  “Yeah, boy, Deel comin’, too.”

  He’d get his son medical attention and put everything else on the back burner for now. Sometimes, a motherfucker had to do what a motherfucker had to do. His boy needed him, so revenge against Sharper and what-the-fuck ever for Digger would wait.

  Once his boy and his wife was straight, Outlaw would return with a vengeance and end this fucking game with motherfucking Sharper once and for fucking all.

  Deciding to bring CJ to the emergency room of the same hospital Megan was admitted and Zoann worked at, it relieved Christopher to discover his boy hadn’t developed pneumonia, but he did have an infection that needed to be treated. He held CJ while the nurse administered injections.

  CJ squirmed in Christopher’s arms. “Ashfuck, ‘Law!” he yelled around a pitiful wail. “Fucka mudna!”

  “Hey, boy, I’m gonna beat your little ass if you fuckin’ curse my ass out one fuckin’ more time. I know this shit hurt, but I’m still your fuckin’ old man. Respect my ass.”

  “Fuck in hell, ‘Law,” CJ screamed. “Want MegAnn! I want my mommie.”

  Growling, Christopher gripped his screaming son closer to his chest, keeping him still until the nurse finished her slow ass up. The moment she did, she gave him a disapproving scowl.

  “Did that child say what I think he said?”

  Unless the bitch was deaf, she knew exactly what the fuck CJ said. But he’d play her fucking game. “Don’t fuckin’ know. What the fuck you fuckin’ think he said?”

  “Never mind,” she snapped with indignation. “I know what he said and so do you. My ears didn’t deceive me. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “I should be, but I fuckin’ ain’t. Now if all you got for me is some fuckin’ lecturin’ bullshit I ain’t interested in fuckin’ hearin’, I’m gettin’ the fuck outta here, so I can bring my boy up-fuckin-stairs to see his ma.”

  Although visiting hours were long over, they made an exception for Christopher.

  The nurse shoved some forms at him. “The doctor’s instructions and two prescriptions. See that he takes every bit of that medicine, Mr. Caldwell. He’s very vulnerable to pneumonia.”

  “Okay. Can I get the fuck gone now?”

  “Sign that paper.” She nodded to the form in question, waiting until Christopher set CJ down and signed his name before saying, “You’re free to go.”

  Scooping CJ back into his arms, Christopher gestured to Diesel who’d been sitting in the corner, out of the way. Seen but not heard. “C’mon, I’m gonna introduce you to Megan.”

  “Yes, sir,” Diesel responded, following Christopher through the double doors and toward the elevators.

  “Hear that, boy?” he asked his son, who’d quieted to sniffles. “We goin’ see your beautiful ma,�
�� he said when they stepped onto the elevator.

  Instead of answering, CJ glared at him and Christopher scowled, satisfied when his boy dropped his gaze. He didn’t want CJ afraid of him, but he sure the fuck wasn’t tolerating disrespect. Sick or fucking not. “I under-fuckin-stand you pissed cuz that needle fuckin’ hurt, but the shit gonna help you. By now the pain gone, boy, so drop the fuckin’ attitude. Hear me?”

  “Okay, ‘Law,” CJ said in a small, pitiful voice.

  Christopher sighed but fell silent. A moment later, the elevator arrived on Megan’s floor. As he headed to her room, he nodded to the brothers who were assigned night duty.

  In her room, he found Megan’s eyes closed, while Ophelia and Ghost sat side-by-side on the window seat, whispering to each other. Ghost caught sight of him first and got to his feet, his guilty look almost identical to Ophelia’s.

  “Hey,” Ophelia said, as CJ yelled, “MegAnn!”

  Startled, Megan jerked awake and blinked a couple of times before her gaze cleared. “CJ!” she said, sitting up and wincing.

  “Hey, bud,” Ophelia offered with a smile, ruffling CJ’s head and earning a laugh.

  “Ant Fee,” he responded, coughing.

  “Oh my, you have a bad cold,” she said.

  “Yep, already got him checked out downstairs,” Christopher explained, still trying to figure out what the fuck was going on with Ophelia and Ghost. Why the guilty fucking looks?

  “I sick, Mommie,” CJ explained, reaching for Megan.

  Before she could move, Christopher sat him next to her, then kissed her lips.

  “Hey, you,” she said, thumbing his lips.

  “Hey, baby.”

  “I hot, Mommie.”

  CJ’s words pulled Megan’s attention away from Christopher and she put her uninjured arm around their son’s small shoulders.

  “I’m going to get home,” Ophelia said, standing on her tiptoes to hug Christopher and kiss his cheek.

  Christopher nodded.

  “I’ll walk you out, Ophelia,” Ghost told her before he lifted a brow to Christopher. “That’s okay with you, Outlaw?”