Yeah, what the fuck now? McCallister hadn’t come right out and made a threat against Christopher or the club, but now the transfer of the money escalated things to the next level.
On the other fucking hand…What the fuck was wrong with him? Johnnie’s revelation had fucking knocked him off his game for a minute. No fucking way would Christopher do this only on McCallister’s terms. The motherfucker had yet to give a drop-off location stateside or international. If Christopher had to deliver the goods himself then McCallister had to fucking deal on Christopher’s terms. The motherfucker had to give if he expected to take. Otherwise, Christopher had to kill him. Fucking simple as that. He’d interrupt his holidays for a little bloodshed, but oh-fucking-well. Worse shit had happened around this time.
He still might have to kill the motherfucker, whether he accepted Christopher’s terms or not. Riley couldn’t get a heads-ups on McCallister’s clients. Other than knowing the arms dealer, Christopher would be going in blind. And the motherfucker expected him to leave the country. He just hadn’t said to go fucking where.
Fuck, no, this shit wouldn’t fly.
“I’ll tell you what the fuck now.” Setting Rory in Digger’s lap, Christopher pulled out his phone and sent Cash a text. In a moment, a response came through.
“McCallister,” a voice answered after Christopher punched in the numbers Cash sent to him.
“This Outlaw,” Christopher responded.
“Glad we’ve come to a meeting of the minds.”
“We ain’t, so here’s what the fuck I’m thinkin’…” Something he should’ve been considering long before now, after he’d called Val to get their location. "I didn’t sign off on this fuckin’ deal, but I gotcha fuckin’ money. That shit not a fuckin’ problem. I sent it the fuck back to you once before. My ass’ll do it the fuck again.”
“Is that so? Do you know how unhappy that’ll make me? Most people go out of their way to keep me happy.”
“I ain’t most fuckin’ people. I don’t give a fuck ‘bout keepin’ your ass happy, ‘specially if my ass not.” Pacing in front of the bench, he lowered his voice. They wanted him? Then they were going to have to take him on his terms. Besides, one way to get the entire fucking club off the hook for retaliation was to personally piss the motherfucker off. “You fuckin’ hear me?”
“Are ya saying the deal’s off?”
“What the fuck I’m sayin’ is you want this motherfucker to go through, you meetin’ some of my goddamn demands.”
“More money?”
“Fuck you. Fuck no.”
“You insult me.
“That fuckin’ matter to me how?”
“What do you want, Caldwell? Lay down your terms so I can accept or rebuff them.”
“My terms simple,” Christopher said coldly, throwing the motherfucker’s words back at him. “You want the fuckin’ arms, you come stateside and get the motherfuckers yourself. I’ll meet you on the East Coast. Stateside,” he reiterated. “You choose the location.”
“No.”
“Then fuck you. I’ma send your fuckin’ money back.”
“And that’s your final answer?”
“It sure the fuck is. I ain’t the motherfucker wantin’ the guns. I ain’t the motherfucker needin’ your fuckin’ money. I’m the motherfucker with the guns. You ain’t dealin’ this my way, we ain’t fuckin’ dealin’ no fuckin’ way.”
“You’re a hard man to bargain with. How do I know this isn’t a setup?”
“Fuckin’ exactly. How the fuck I know my ass comin’ overseas not a fuckin’ setup? My guns. My turf. Or no fuckin’ deal.” It was as fuckin’ simple as that.
“What would you say if I told you I might have to kill you for your disrespect?”
“Then me and my club ready for your ass.”
“No, not your club. You. According to your attorney, they’re willing to work with me. He said you were, too. You’re saying something different so you’re the one loose end.”
“Motherfuckers been gunnin’ for my ass before.”
McCallister offered a noisy breath. “Let me think about it,” he said and disconnected the call.
“Damn, Prez,” Digger repeated, staring at him with wide eyes.
CJ barreled into his legs and stood on his boots, reaching his hands up. “I tired, ‘Law.”
“You think pissing this dude off wise, Outlaw?” Val asked as Ryan climbed onto his lap.
Christopher lifted CJ into his arms, thinking of Megan and his children. “I ain’t gettin’ the right feelin’, Val. This motherfucker insistin’ I deliver the shit. Why? If I gotta do it, I’m doin’ it here. If shit go down, Megan’ll have it fuckin’ easier. If I’m fuckin’ arrested, she can visit me in jail easier. If I’m fuckin’ injured, she can get to me in a hospital quicker. And if I’m fuckin’ killed, she can get my body back without a buncha fuckin’ bullshit.”
“But, Prez, you pissing him off. You,” Digger reiterated. “At least with the bullshit Kendall did, she kind of had the whole club on the line…” Eyes widening, his voice trailed off. “Fuck, Outlaw, you doing this shit on purpose. To get the heat off the club.”
“I do what the fuck I gotta,” Christopher said. “I’m the president, so I do what I need to when I got stupid motherfuckers tryna get the whole fuckin’ club in fuckin’ shit.”
“Then you didn’t need to shoot John Boy if you going to find a way to take the fucking fall,” Val said angrily.
Christopher lifted a brow. “Tone it the fuck down before I fuck you up.”
“No, Prez, Val right. I mean this some bullshit. You risking your life because of Johnnie and you didn’t even kill the motherfucker for what he did.”
“Cuz it wasn’t him. It was fucking Kendall,” he snarled. “And, yeah, even if I hadn’t lost my fuckin’ shit and thought ‘bout this in Brooks’s office, Johnnie still deserved to be fuckin’ shot. Fuck, if Kendall had been right the fuck in front of me, I probably woulda shot the fuck outta her. But I ain’t goin’ to that cunt with the purpose of fuckin’ her up. She pregnant and I don’t pre-fuckin-meditate the murder of no bitch, let alone one belongin’ to us, and one who pregnant.”
“Outlaw—”
“Prez, if he accept the deal, I’m comin’,” Digger said, interrupting whatever Val might’ve said.
Before Christopher said anything, his phone rang. “Outlaw,” he answered.
“It’s a go, Caldwell,” McCallister greeted coolly. “I’ll call you in a couple of hours with the meeting location.”
As Christopher hung up, McCallister’s behavior struck him as odd. And then it hit him. The motherfucker was acting on behalf of some-fucking-body else. He was a fucking dealer, acquiring guns and ammo from one motherfucker and then disposing them to another. But he’d need authority both ways. In this situation, he seemed to be just the middle-fucking-man, kinda the way Christopher had once been when Big Joe gave him just enough authority to go so far without actually closing a deal.
So just who the fuck was McCallister working for?
Stuffing the last of the endorsed checks into the bank bag and zipping it closed, Meggie leaned back in her desk chair. She’d turned the room across the hall from Christopher’s man cave into an office, decorated in white and lavender. In her office, she kept all the business records for their clients in the file cabinets, while Zoann kept the medical records. They both signed off on all checks and held monthly meetings to go over income, expenses, and clients.
It was a good setup, one that Meggie enjoyed and one that gave her another source of pride. She was a business owner, in addition to being a mother and a wife.
Smiling at the thought, she startled at the sound of her ringing cell phone. Doctor Will’s name and number flashed across the screen, so Meggie answered immediately.
“Hey,” she greeted.
“Hi, Meggie.”
The physician’s cheery voice lifted Meggie’s spirits. She knew Christopher had made an appointment with her. Th
ough she’d offered to accompany him, she hadn’t been upset when he’d said he wanted to go alone. He needed the doctor’s reassurance without Meggie influencing what either of them said.
“Meggie?”
“Oh, hey.”
“Do you have a few minutes?”
“Sure.”
“Mr. Caldwell came to visit—”
“I know.”
Doctor Will sighed. “He asked me to look over your records. I had them faxed from Dr. Howerton and I’ve read through them.
“Thank you so much,” Meggie said with relief. “We’re both worried that Dr. Howerton has missed something. I haven’t been feeling well at all. He said it was just effacement. Ten percent, so I shouldn’t worry.”
“It’s a little more than that.”
The OB’s words knocked Meggie’s breath away. “Is the baby okay?” she asked, recovering herself and finding her voice. “He’s been moving.” All through the day and sometimes at night. He’d been kicking today.
“Nothing’s wrong with your son. However, you’re already dilated one centimeter.”
Meggie’s hand flew to her mouth and she gripped the cell phone tighter. “Dilated? Like I’m in labor?”
“Yes. Pre-term labor. I’m sending in a prescription. Take it every four hours, nonstop, around the clock.”
That would be no problem. Ever since she’d had CJ, she awakened every three or four hours. “Do I have to be hospitalized?”
“Not yet. Not if the drug halts the dilation. You will need strict bedrest.”
“O-okay,” Meggie answered, her voice trembling. Her hand went to her belly. Right now, Ryder was still. Logically, she knew he went silent at some point every day. But she wanted a way to awaken him, to reassure herself he was still alive inside of her. “He isn’t moving right now. Is he okay?”
“I promise you he is.”
“What happens if I go into labor now? Will he live? Or would he…” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she thought of Patrick. She’d been heavily sedated the one time she’d gotten to hold him. He was already dead and…a sob escaped her. “Will he leave, too?”
It was so stupid, her inability to think of her son as dead. She knew that’s what he was, but she hated to say it. Just the word seemed to be a bad omen. Death had stolen her mother just months ago and now it was back, trying to get another son from her.
An image of Dinah raced across Meggie’s mind and fresh grief hit her. Sometimes, it was still hard to believe that Dinah had stabbed Christopher. Meggie wished she’d been there that day. She could’ve stopped her mother, but she and Christopher had argued because she hadn’t wanted him to leave the club.
He loved his MC and she firmly believed he’d regret his decision. Church had taken place that day and he’d intended to resign. Only her anger had stopped him. If not for the argument, she would’ve come to the club as soon as the meeting ended.
“Meggie?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady but failing miserably. “It’s just that I can’t lose him.”
“Listen to me,” Doctor Will said, taking on an authoritative motherly tone. “You’re further along with this baby than you were with Patrick. You’ve suffered no trauma. This child’s survival rate is pretty good. I’d prefer not to take any chances and hope to get you to thirty-seven weeks if at all possible.”
That was about nine weeks away. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get to that point, Dr. Will.” Sniffling, she swiped at her tears. “Did you explain all of this to Christopher?”
“My God, no! He…he wouldn’t be happy with Burt.”
He’d kill Howerton, something he’d probably expressed to Dr. Will. She was very good at what she did and had a lot of integrity, even though Christopher had convinced her to get on the club’s payroll. She’d withhold a lot, but Meggie knew she’d never go for knowing about outright murder, especially of a colleague.
“I don’t trust Dr. Howerton anymore. Please take over my care. I know you’re not a high-risk OB, but the one I have hasn’t done his job.”
“Burt still believes there’s not much to worry about.”
“I disagree.”
“You’re fine,” she stressed. “The baby’s not in any distress.”
“Preterm labor is serious, especially with my history. We both know it. He should’ve been honest.”
“You’re understandably angry, but please calm down. This isn’t helping you.”
She sniffled. “My son’s name is Ryder,” she whispered around tears. “I imagine him with black hair. All of my sons take after Christopher and…and…we’re having no more kids after him and, um, my mother won’t get to meet him because I’ll give birth to him and he’ll be alive.”
“You won’t lose him,” Dr. Will said gently. “I’d like you to come in and see me on Friday at one.”
“That’s three days away.”
“Yes. If you have any problems before then, go to the emergency room, though I don’t anticipate that happening,” she added quickly. “Until then, it’s bedrest for you. No heavy lifting. No sex. No stress. Let your husband do what he’s best at—caring for you.”
The thought of Christopher’s reaction dried some of Meggie’s tears. If she fell apart, there’d be no saving Howerton. She’d have to explain it in a way…Who was she kidding? Any way she told him, Christopher would be furious and the doctor would go missing.
“Thank you, Dr. Will. I’ll be there.”
“Would you like me to call Mr. Caldwell and explain my findings?”
“Um, no. I’ll bring him with me. Between you and me, we’ll get him to realize it was an oversight. Tell him that after you read over the records, you’d prefer to err on the side of caution.”
“That sounds perfect. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. So’s Ryder.”
“That’s what I like to hear. See you Friday. Call me if you have any questions before then. Bye, now.”
Meggie hung up and leaned back in her chair, covering her face and having a good cry. She’d known something was wrong just from how she’d been feeling. Why had Howerton not mentioned the dilation? He must’ve seen it and written it in his notes for Dr. Will to have diagnosed her.
Since the business day was almost over, Meggie grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and blew her nose, then grabbed a couple more to wipe the tears from her face. She had to pull herself together. Dr. Will promised that Ryder was fine. Meggie trusted the physician, so she’d have to trust her with this, too.
She jotted a few notes down, checked the bank bag again, and then headed to the kitchen to check her beef roast. Diesel walked in from the mudroom, still wearing his hat and coat, his nose and cheeks reddened by the chill of outside.
“How was school?” Each day, she asked the same question. Today would be no different. Keeping everything as normal as possible was imperative. Diesel needed to always know Meggie was interested in him and his education. She hated the thought that both his parents had just abandoned him and knew he sometimes suffered nightmares. “How’s Mindy?” His girlfriend.
Shrugging out of his coat, he smiled and his cheeks seemed to redden a little more at the mention of Mindy. “I got ‘Cs’ on all my tests.”
He struggled in all areas, so for him to get ‘Cs’ was a big deal. She fist-bumped him. “Good job. Christopher is going to be really proud of you.”
“He will?” he asked, beaming at her.
Ever since Christopher had rescued him from the streets, Diesel went out of his way to impress her husband.
“Mindy’s fine. I was wondering if I could invite her to the Christmas party.” He’d already invited her to the Thanksgiving celebration at the club.
Oh God! Thanksgiving. Christopher wouldn’t allow Meggie to help. Biting her lip, she realized that, at the moment, she didn’t even feel like helping. She forced a smile. “Sure. The brothers are bringing their kids and old ladies so it won’t be a problem.”
“Dee!” Rebel screamed as she toddled into the kitchen and bypassed Meggie, heading straight for Diesel. She’d lost her ponytail hours ago and her blonde hair fluttered about her. “Dee,” she said again, raising her arms so Diesel could pick her up.
“El,” Rule cried, following behind her.
Meggie hadn’t decided if he’d tried to say Rebel when he’d began calling his sister ‘El’ a few days ago or if he’d just decided to shorten her name. Either way, she thought it was adorable.
Diesel lifted Rebel into his arms and hi-fived Rule, while Meggie removed the meat from the oven and uncovered it. Garlicky steam percolated in the air and she breathed in the delicious smell.
“Hey, Meggie.” Bunny stopped next to her, a different woman now that Digger was in her life. She’d always been sweet and kind. Now, she seemed relaxed, as if she felt secure in her place in everyone’s lives and content in her own skin.
She and her parents were on speaking terms again. Virginia and Walt’s house had been shot up last winter and they’d fled for a few days out of fear for their lives. Since then, the house had been remodeled using money Christopher sent and they’d moved back in. Bunny’s parents had visited the club a couple of times, while she and Digger had gone to spend time with them in Phoenix over the summer. Even Gabe, Bunny’s brother, had gotten over his fear of Christopher after the meatshack episode. Now, Gabe, Walt and Virginia intended to spend Christmas there.
Meggie was so happy how things had worked out for Bunny.
“What time are we leaving for the photos?”
“We still have a couple of hours before we have to hit the road, Bunny,” Meggie answered. CJ and Christopher should be arriving home at any moment. By then, she needed to be completely normal.
Diesel sat Rebel on the center island. With Rule dogging his steps, he walked to a cabinet and got three cups. “Can we have pizza?”
Rebel swung her legs, following Diesel’s every move. She wouldn’t move from her spot because Diesel had sat her down.
“I’ve already cooked.” Meggie nodded to the roast that was surrounded with carrots and potatoes. “Pizza tomorrow, I promise.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 282
