Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “Only if my ass goin’ to spit the fuck on his fuckin’ grave.” Outlaw looked at Stretch. “You ain’t obligated to go.”

  “Cash said the same thing,” Stretch admitted.

  “Cash is right,” Johnnie said. “You owe your family nothing.”

  “I owe them me,” he reminded them. “Without them, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Listen up, Stretch,” Outlaw started as Meggie walked in from the kitchen and distracted him. She carried a plate of crackers to the bar, went back into the kitchen, and returned a moment later, guiding Kendall to a stool.

  “Potter, get Kendall a 7-Up,” Meggie instructed.

  “Sure thing,” the Probate responded.

  She smiled and waved to Outlaw. The place was relatively quiet. Stretch was grateful. He didn’t need a bunch of motherfuckers he didn’t trust, in his business.

  He trusted Cash and the men who surrounded him. No one else.

  Meggie and Kendall engaged in a low conversation. It surprised Stretch that neither Outlaw or Johnnie interrupted.

  “This pregnancy is hitting Kendall hard,” Johnnie confided on a whisper. “She doesn’t have morning sickness, but she’s miserable.”

  Val sidled Kendall a dirty look, one they all saw, including Outlaw.

  “What the fuck goin’ on now?” he asked.

  Johnnie flushed and looked away. Val shoved his hands in his pockets. Mort shifted and Digger scratched his chin.

  “Kendall’s pregnant,” Johnnie said. “Need I say more? Their dinner party could’ve been better.”

  It was clear not only Johnnie, but the other men had also heard about the dinner party at Fee’s. Only Meggie and Outlaw were clueless. Stretch winced, watching Meggie care for Kendall.

  “Keep your woman in line,” Outlaw warned. “Then your dick. Get it fuckin’ snipped like my ass soon doin’.”

  “I might do that,” Johnnie said. “Just, please, bear with her.”

  “As long as Megan fine, she fine. She ain’t fuckin’ with the club no more cuz she ain’t at the office.”

  More shifting. Fee had talked to Johnnie, so he must’ve told the others.

  “Stretch has to get on the place,” Johnnie said, a catch in his voice.

  “Yeah, Prez,” Mort agreed quickly. “He do. We holding him up.”

  “Get the fuck goin’.” Expecting Stretch to leave, Outlaw addressed Johnnie, his voice raising. “I ain’t fuckin’ talkin’ to your bitch, John Boy. I’ma over-fuckin-look whatever the fuck she do, for you. Make sure you fuckin’ tell her, her life now de-fuckin-pend on her treatment of my wife and our marriage.”

  “Hey.” Meggie inched between Johnnie and Outlaw. “What’s up?”

  Val snickered. “You heard Outlaw going into Psycho Stalker Wildman, huh, Meggie?”

  She nodded.

  “Girl, you got Psycho Stalker Wildman radar,” Digger added. “We so fucking lucky.”

  “Kiss my motherfuckin’ psycho Wildman stalker ass.” Outlaw glared at Meggie. “You and Kendall gettin’ along?”

  “We always get along,” Meggie said smoothly.

  “Bull-fuckin-shit.” Scowling, Outlaw pulled his ringing phone from his pocket. “Fuck. This Fee. Hold the fuck on,” he instructed, and broke away from their little group.

  “Is everything okay with you two, Megan?” Johnnie asked.

  She shrugged without enthusiasm.

  “Megan. Sweetheart. I’ll owe you my life if you tolerate Kendall.”

  “Johnnie, Kendall is insulting and mean. I believe she’s responsible for the whole Daphne situation.”

  Johnnie stiffened. “Wait a fucking minute.”

  “No, Johnnie. I’m not listening to you. You listen to me,” she ordered, stunning them. “Christopher couldn’t live with himself if he killed Kendall. Because of you. He loves you and he’d have to kill you, too. But you’re like him, so you could kill him. I’ll bow to Kendall, literally, if it keeps my husband safe, alive, and happy. At the moment, I feel for her what she feels for me. Total dislike.” Rubbing her brow, she sighed. “I miss the Kendall we had after Rory’s birth. You love her, so you want to protect her. That’s your job. My job is to stand at my husband’s side, in whatever way he needs me. Am I clear?”

  “Fuck, you’re sounding more and more like Christopher,” Johnnie mock-complained, his gaze touching on every feature of Meggie’s face and body. Her loose hair. Her clear blue eyes. Her serenity. “He hit the jackpot with you, sweetheart.”

  She grinned, flushing in pleasure. Glancing toward the bar where Kendall sat, her smile fell away and she rolled her eyes. “This is for you, not Kendall. Okay?”

  “What?”

  “I know you love Kendall. You’re like Cash and Christopher. Not the most patient person. If you didn’t love her, you would’ve…” Her voice trailed off and she wrinkled her nose. “You would’ve gotten rid of her. Marriage is about the good and the bad. There’s been a lot of bad lately for you and Kendall, but you’re a loyal man, just what Kendall needs. Don’t ever think your love for her goes unnoticed or unappreciated.”

  “I wish Kendall would tell me that. Can you talk—”

  “No.” She sniffed. “I haven’t quite forgiven her for telling Bunny, Zoann, and Fee that I need to suck Christopher off on behalf of her.”

  Johnnie’s mouth fell open. “What?”

  “You heard me. I got an earful from Bunny. She was so furious with Kendall. I’m doing my part with Christopher, but Kendall will give herself away if she keeps it up with Zoann and Bunny.”

  “Megan!”

  At Outlaw’s call, Meggie turned, going to where Outlaw sat at his table, without another word.

  “We so fucked,” Mort complained. “Get Red in line before Prez find out about that dinner party.”

  “He’d fuck us all up,” Digger concluded with worry.

  “Stretch, it’s quarter after three.” Val nodded to the clock. “If you going, you need to hit the road.”

  “You’re right,” Stretch agreed. He shook each of their hands, sorry to leave and miss whatever they decided about this situation. Maybe, Cash would fill him in. “Thanks for coming to offer condolences.”

  “Together we stand,” Mort reminded him.

  “Together we fall,” Johnnie added.

  Meggie hurried over and hugged Stretch as Outlaw followed her, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

  “Call us if you need anything,” Meggie said.

  “Thanks.” He held out his hand to Outlaw, curious about Fee. “Everything okay?”

  “My lil sister tellin’ me she been busy and ain’t had a chance to spend time with her friends. She goin’ away with some bitch name Blue, from a fuckin’ yoga class.”

  Fee did yoga? That was news to Stretch, but it explained why she hadn’t picked up. With a last goodbye, he headed outside, thankful for the sunbreak, although clouds hung in the distance.

  “You sure you okay headin’ out alone?” Outlaw asked as Stretch got on his bike.

  “Yeah, fine.”

  “Keep your fuckin’ head up. Don’t let no motherfucker bring you down.”

  “I’ll try,” Stretch mumbled, then rode away, ignoring the doubts plaguing him.

  Once he forced himself to board the plane, Stretch looked out the window, wondering what would this trip bring? Closure? Or more heartache?

  Both Cash and Outlaw thought Stretch should rejoice that his father was gone and not go to Kansas City. His father’s death left a void in him, trapping him between despair and emptiness.

  “Hey.”

  Stretch started at the sound of Fee’s voice, sure he was hearing things. Turning his head, he met her brown eyes.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She slid into the seat next to him. “I couldn’t let you go through this alone.”

  “Neither of us could,” Cash said from the seat behind. “Money and first class tickets for some travelers talk.”

  “As does bribes to get seat
s close to you.”

  “Outlaw called me and told me your flight number as I requested,” Cash went on. “I called Fee.”

  Wrapping his arm around Fee, he pulled her to him and kissed her forehead, his loneliness deserting him in an instant.

  The plane landed five minutes behind schedule at close to eight that night. None of them had check-ins, so they got a shuttle to the car rental place. By the time they hopped on the 435, darkness had descended. They were tired and hungry

  The drive to Stretch’s childhood home mirrored the plane ride. Under other circumstances, he might’ve looked forward to showing them some of the places he’d once enjoyed. Way back, when his family still acknowledged him.

  “You know what I realized?” Fee said as he pulled into the crowded driveway of his mother’s house, and killed the engine of his rented Impala.

  It felt odd to be in a car, caged up, knowing this would serve as his mode of transportation for the duration of his stay.

  Stretch leaned against the headrest and studied the large front porch, illuminated by outside lights.

  On hot summer days, his mom would read to him on the porch swing. So many times he’d fallen asleep against her. Come the morning, he’d awaken in his bed, carried there by his father. To be that innocent child again, whom his parents had loved. “What, Fee?” The reality of his father’s death hit him and he squeezed the bridge of his nose.

  Fee laid her hand on his thigh. “I’ve never seen you drive a car before.”

  “One of the last things my father ever taught me to do,” he admitted.

  At the appearance of one of his cousin’s on the porch, Stretch tensed. Cigarette hanging from his mouth, Dillon grabbed the rusty railing and leaned forward, to better see inside the rental. The moment his cousin’s face darkened, Stretch knew he’d been recognized.

  “Who’s that?” Cash asked from the back seat.

  “An asshole from the looks of him.”

  Stretch hid a smile at Fee’s prim little sniff, pretending the sight of her curves, the way her breasts molded her shirt, didn’t tempt him.

  Dillon banged on the window, indicating Stretch unlock the door.

  He sighed. Though he expected the treatment, he wasn’t ready for it.

  Dillon pounded on the window again. “Open this fucking door, you goddamn freak.”

  As Stretch flinched, Cash inhaled while Fee opened her door and jumped out.

  “What did you say?” she demanded.

  “Ophelia, get back in the fucking car,” Cash ordered.

  Instead of listening, she slammed her door shut and marched to Dillon. Her actions forced both Cash and Stretch out of the vehicle.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Dillon sneered, his insulting perusal not boding well. “Besides a fucking slut Louis hired to pretend to be a man.”

  One moment Dillon spewed insults and the next he sprawled on the ground. Cash loomed over him and shoved his gun in Dillon’s mouth. Unlike Outlaw, who usually travelled without his nine, Cash had checked his gun in, filling out a form and going through other tedious motions, even with the agent’s admiration of the weapon at the end of the inspection.

  “I don’t know who the fuck you are and I don’t give a fuck,” Cash snarled in low tones. “Two things aren’t happening if you wish to keep the back of your head. Number one, you aren’t insulting Ophelia. She’s a lady and you’ll respect her. Two, you’re going to allow Louis to go into this house and visit his mother without another fucking comment. I’ve been a little bored lately. Don’t have me use you to liven my life up.”

  “What’s going on?” Uncle Harry yelled, pounding down the steps and rushing to Cash.

  “Louis?” Mom gasped.

  “Mom?” Stretch returned as she ran behind his uncle, her dark hair flying all over her head.

  If Stretch was tall, his mom was short. He was muscles. She was rotund. His eyes were blue. Hers were black. He was the complete opposite of his mother, but a mirror image of his father.

  Mom clasped his face between her hands and turned his head from side-to-side. “My Louis.”

  “Forget him, Lena!” Uncle Harry yelled. “He’s not my brother. I told you to tell him not to come. He’ll never live up to the man his father was. He has another man with him.”

  Sucking in a breath, Mom dropped her hand and looked at Cash, still aiming the gun at Dillon.

  She held her shawl tight around her. “Who is this man? Don’t tell me you’ve brought a lover to my house.”

  “He has,” Cash snapped, shocking Stretch. Accompanying Cash to Denver to hang out with his family was one thing. They were very accepting. To have Cash expose them now, knowing how his family felt, was beyond belief. “I’m his friend. Fee is his girlfriend.”

  Silence fell at Cash’s cold statement. “However, and let me be very clear about this, what I fucking do with my cock is my fucking business,” he snarled. “Respect me and I’ll respect you.”

  “Respect, sir?” Mom looked Cash up and down, her face pinching. “To show partiality in judgment is not good. He who says to the wicked, "You are righteous," Peoples will curse him, nations will abhor him; But to those who rebuke the wicked will be delight, And a good blessing will come upon them.”

  Groaning at the bible quoting, Stretch leaned against the car, his leg starting to hurt, as usual. Fee grabbed the keys and ran to the trunk to get his cane.

  “Thank you,” he said, accepting it with a smile.

  Mom shivered at the sight of the gun in Cash’s hand, studied the patches on his cut, and sighed. “Please put that away, sir. Do not envy a man of violence And do not choose any of his ways.”

  Offering them another sweeping glare and frowning at Mom, Cash nodded, and complied with the request. “I’m Cash McCall,” he said, calling forth the manners he so often hid. “A club brother of your son’s.”

  “Lena King.” She focused on Fee once Cash shook her hand and stepped back. “And you are?”

  “Ophelia Donovan.”

  “Any relation to the club’s vice president?”

  Johnnie had communicated with his family while Stretch had been hospitalized just as Outlaw had. “This is Johnnie’s cousin,” he explained. “Outlaw’s sister.”

  Relief softened Lena’s face and she bristled. “How is Outlaw?”

  “Fine,” Fee told her. “But he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m supposedly spending time with my friend.”

  Stretch widened his eyes. “Really?”

  Mom lifted a brow at Fee. “Whoever walks in integrity walks securely, but whoever takes crooked paths will be found out.”

  Fee drew her brows together. “Really, ma’am? Like, really?” She raised her hands when his mother opened her mouth to speak. “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? Familiar with that verse, Mrs. King? Mathew Chapter 7, Verse 3. One of my mother’s favorite’s. I don’t know the bible as well as you apparently do, but the way you’re throwing little digs under the pretense of religion is insulting and unnecessary.”

  “Indeed you are Outlaw’s sister,” Lena said coolly.

  “Indeed I am.”

  They stared at one another until Mom drew herself up. “Let’s go inside,” she suggested. “Your cousins are here, Louis. Most of the family. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you and meet your girlfriend. Come, son.”

  Stretch hesitated. His mother hadn’t seen him since he’d lost his ability to walk properly. Besides, with his uncle and cousin watching him, he hated to move.

  At Dillon’s smirk, Stretch took a painful step forward, bracing most of his weight on his cane.

  “I’m right beside you,” Fee clucked, falling into step with him. Acting as a girlfriend. Her hand at the small of his back—her sweet consideration and quiet strength—inspired him.

  “Thanks, babe,” he whispered as they topped the porch and walked inside.

  She smiled. “I’m here for you, always.”


  The differences between him, Cash and Fee would be quite telling upon seeing the poor condition of the house. Stretch never felt unwelcomed or inferior around Cash and his wealthy siblings. Comparing the gorgeous Denver mansion they sometimes visited, to the peeling paint on these walls and dull hardwood floors made Stretch wonder what Cash thought. Even Fee, who came from a similar socio-economic background as Stretch, now lived in relative comfort thanks to her brother.

  Once again, Stretch was the misfit. The odd man out.

  Entering the kitchen and seeing family members for the first time in years should’ve thrilled him. The sudden silence humiliated him. Instead of a greeting, they all stared. The smell of coffee scented the air.

  Everything was as he remembered. The house had been remodeled the year Stretch turned ten. At first, he’d loved the light blue-green cabinets, white furniture, black and white tiles, and red table and chairs. Now, nineteen years later, not only did it look outdated and worn, but tacky.

  Relatives crowded the kitchen and hallway. He wanted to turn and flee their stares. Not one of them attempted to understand him. They refused to believe his inner turmoil or allow him to find comfort from the cruelty of the world, with them, his family.

  “You said no one was here, Mom.” That’s one reason he’d moved heaven and hell to get to her.

  “We live minutes away,” Uncle Harry blasted from behind. “Lena wanted you here purely for solace. When she looks at you, she sees him.

  No one said anything until Fee spoke.

  “Stretch needs to sit,” she announced. “Unless one of you are willing to move, we have to get to a seat somewhere else.”

  One of them referred to his four aunts, each sitting in one of the red vinyl kitchen chairs.

  “This is Ophelia,” his mother announced to the room at large. “His girlfriend.”

  “Should’ve got here sooner. We forgot you were coming, boy.” Uncle Harry brushed past him and went to the refrigerator for a bottled water. “All the butterscotch pie is gone.”

  Mom glanced at the floor. She looked haggard, as if she hadn’t slept in hours.

  “I didn’t expect so many guests, Louis,” she started. “I’ll find a place for you to sleep, but I don’t have room for your girlfriend. She’ll have to find a motel. Your, er, club mate can crash in the living room with the cousins. I have an extra sleeping bag for him to use.”