“Johnnie?” Kendall called, as Rory and Bunny headed toward the bathroom.
Fee sat Ryder on the floor near the table, keeping an eye on him and an ear on Kendall. Whatever she needed to say to Johnnie sounded serious.
He sat next to her in the bucket seat angled closest to her. “That’s me, sweetheart.”
“Ryder,” she said simply.
Johnnie’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “What about him?”
“He has your hair, your eyes, your everything,” she cried. “Are you sure you didn’t fuck Meggie and make him?”
Fee choked, then covered it with a cough. She thought this argument had been settled weeks ago and never expected Kendall to actually bring this outrageousness to Johnnie.
Anger darkened Johnnie’s eyes to a gunmetal gray. Though he wasn’t as surprised as Fee had expected, he was totally enraged.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he bellowed, garnering the attention of the shop owner and two women, who’d been looking at a book of fabrics. “You know fucking well I haven’t touched Megan.”
“So Meggie’s youngest spawn belongs to Christopher? When both his other sons have black hair and green eyes like him?”
“What the fuck are you on?” Johnnie snapped, then released a string of curses. “That’s the problem, isn’t it, Kendall? It’s what you’re not on. I told you after Matilda was born, no more fucking kids if it meant what I think it means. You’re not doing this bullshit when you have the means to help yourself. Take your fucking medicine or abort the baby.” He stormed past Fee. “I’ll be in the car. The place is too rank with fucking shit for me to stay.”
“I am taking my medicine,” Kendall called. “For you to accuse me otherwise, hurts me.”
Johnnie halted at the door. “Kendall, if you were untreatable, I’d stand by each and every decision you make. I’d fix them for you to the best of my ability. What you have is treatable and I refuse to sit back while you use the excuse of no meds to get us into situations. Therefore…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If you’re on your meds, I apologize. If I find out you’re lying to me, you won’t be happy with the outcome.”
Sniffling, Kendall got to her feet and lifted her chin. “You can’t force me to have an abortion. That’s illegal. I know my rights. Marriage doesn’t take away my freedom to make my own choices.”
“You’re so fucking right, Attorney Donovan, but I can move back to the clubhouse until you deliver.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He lifted a brow. “You want to test that theory?”
“If you walk out while I’m carrying this baby, I won’t let Rory or Matilda see you until you come around to my way of thinking.”
“You have a short memory, Kendall. Or is it amnesia? We’ve already been down that road. Don’t push me. I meant what I said before, so back the fuck off if you still want this marriage to work.”
“Dad, ready to go,” Rory said as he and Bunny rejoined them. He grabbed his father’s hand.
“Yeah, let’s go, son.” Johnnie walked out the door without looking back.
“Come on, Fee,” Kendall said in subdued tones. “You rode over with us. We’re heading back to Hortensia.”
No way was Fee sitting in a car for thirty minutes with those two at each other’s throats.
“You all go ahead. I’m going to meet with a friend.”
“Suit yourself,” Kendall said with a shrug, stomping outside.
“You can always ride back with me,” Bunny offered, scooping up Ryder and the diaper bag that had sat forgotten on the floor next to the chair. “Ryder will probably fall asleep on the way home.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.” She needed away from this madness, so she made a snap decision to visit Noah.
Anything was better than the battle that would take place on the ride back to the club.
Present Day
Stretch halted his bike in front of Noah’s house, wanting to blow it up on GP, as the new man in Fee’s life. When John Boy returned to the clubhouse, without Fee, Outlaw had Stretch pick up her location via her cell phone.
Angry, jealous, frustrated, and determined to interrupt their fucking, Stretch left, overcome with dangerous emotion and wanting to hack off Noah’s cock.
Now, he limped to the door of the house he’d identified as belonging to Noah. Heaving in a breath, Stretch knocked, wrestling his rising temper back. He was so angry with Fee, even after six weeks, but he couldn’t imagine her with another…Fuck her!
Why the fuck had he come again? Fee was where she wanted to be. She’d destroyed their relationship, for her own selfish reasons. So, yeah, fuck her. Instead of acting with this confrontational hotheadedness, he’d get on his bike and return to the club.
The door cracked open. As expected, Noah faced him, breathing heavily. Definitely interrupting some hard fucking. With Fee. She was little better than Cash. It was so easy for them to move on, when, to Stretch, the thought of anyone else turned him off and hurt, almost like a physical pain.
Stretch shoved his hands in his pockets, to keep from punching the fuck out of Noah, his emotions all over the place. One thing was certain. His jealousy did no one any good. “Sorry for the interruption.”
Noah straightened, sudden tension settling into his features, although he didn't seem surprised at Stretch’s appearance or question how his address had been obtained. “I can’t talk right now. I’m busy.”
Stretch bet he was, but he wouldn’t leave without glimpsing the girl who meant so much to him, despite how he pretended otherwise. “I need a word with Fee.”
“Fee?”
“Ophelia Donovan. You know? Outlaw’s little sister.”
“I don’t know a bitch by that name. Sorry, brother.” Noah slammed the door shut.
An inkling of unease traveling along Stretch’s spine, he pounded on the door again. One minute slugged by. Two. Noah refused to answer.
Bracing as best he could on his damaged leg, he stomped until the wood buckled and the door flew open. He almost toppled over and he cursed, taking a moment to regain his balance.
Despite the rush of cold, a strong metallic scent dirtied the air. Blood. Stretch had smelled enough of it, almost drowned in his own, not to recognize it. Panic hit him, and he drew in deep breaths. He hadn’t seen Hanson as he lay dying because Stretch had been too busy fighting for his own life. But he remembered the scent of blood, sweat, and fear.
Suddenly, then didn’t matter. Before or after. Only now. Fee.
His vision adjusted to the dimness. She lay a short distance away in a pool of blood, red splotches patch working her skin. “Fee!” he cried, his voice ragged. She was still and unmoving.
Dead.
Noise from another area drowned out his agonized cry.
Lumbering forward, Stretch pulled his gun. Once again decrying his handicap, Stretch kept his weapon raised, slipping in Fee’s blood as he passed her. He forced himself to keep going. Noah could come out blazing.
Reaching the bedroom, Stretch found the open window. The sound of a motorcycle speeding away filled the silence.
Fuck! Noah had gotten away. Stretch wanted vengeance now. But he’d worry about that shortly-to-be-dead-man later. Right now, he needed to see to Fee.
Kneeling next to her, he forced himself to touch her neck. A huge cut dripped blood and a very weak pulse beat beneath his fingertips. Not dead yet, but so near death she might not survive the next second.
He pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair, not caring about the blood. “Fee,” he whispered, rubbing his cheek against hers. “My Fee. Don’t leave me.”
Laying her down again and swiping at his tears, Stretch stood. With all the shit that had befallen the club the past few months, Outlaw had decided all injuries would be handled on club property. Last year’s shooting had brought a lot of press to the club and they needed shit to die down.
Stretch had no time to call Outlaw for instructions. If there was even
the smallest chance for Fee to live, Stretch had to call ‘911’.
Not only wouldn’t she be taken to a club-supported hospital, the badges who would show up wouldn’t be on their payroll.
Stretch supposed Outlaw would add this extra infraction to whatever revenge he’d plan.
Flashing lights lit up the early evening, the irregular pattern bouncing through Cash’s open door and lighting up his walls. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but since his name was McCall, he knew fuck-all.
Heading to his kitchen, he opened his refrigerator and frowned at the week old Chinese food. Since he’d had a meeting in Portland, he’d decided to stay at his house tonight, a rare occurrence nowadays with all the memories his four walls contained. He’d considered giving up the place completely. It didn’t hold the allure it had, when he’d been with Stretch and Fee. On the other hand, if he rented the place out, he’d have another income stream, since he’d just emptied his savings to invest in Josh’s start-up company.
Realizing he stood like a fucking prick holding his refrigerator door open, Cash scowled, grabbed a beer, then slammed the door shut.
Just as he opened the bottle, his doorbell rang.
Glancing through the peephole and seeing Stretch.
He opened the door, and the breath whooshed from him. Blood covered Stretch’s clothes and smeared his hands and cheek. No! Stretch hadn’t gotten injured again. Fuck! Who did he have to fuck up? It was bad but at least he was on his feet. Damn it, he never should’ve left him and Fee. “What the fuck happened to you?”
“Cash,” Stretch started and swallowed. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s Fee.”
Fee? What about Fee? He’d thought Stretch was injured. But Fee? Seeing all the blood, Cash knew it was bad.
Cash stepped aside without a word, allowing him entry. “Talk.”
“She’s in critical condition. She might already be dead.”
Grabbing Stretch’s shoulders, Cash shook him, his heart pounding, its beat pulsing in his ears. “What the fuck do you mean?”
“She went to Noah’s house. He slit her throat and stabbed her all over her body.”
Nausea welled within Cash. Fee had been stabbed. The horror she must’ve endured. Stabbing was up close and personal.
“Fee isn’t going to die.” He couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t exist.
“She’s lost a lot of blood.”
He didn’t give a fuck. Fee was strong. She wouldn’t…Fuck, he couldn’t even bring himself to say it.
Wild fury roared through Cash and he yanked his hair. “No. Just fucking no.”
Stretch nodded. “Yeah, Cash. She’s so bad off. I…Noah got away.”
Noah? Wait a fucking minute.
“Noah,” he spat. “Noah fucking Carson?”
“Yes.”
Noah was a fucking dead man. When Cash got his hands on him, the motherfucker would wish he’d slit his own fucking throat.
“Where’s Outlaw?”
“On his way to the hospital.” Stretch backed toward the door. “I thought you’d want to know.”
The time Stretch had been beaten and nearly died came to him. Cash didn’t leave the goddamn hospital for a week. He thought he’d lose his mind, until he knew for certain Stretch would survive.
Outlaw enabled Cash to be at Stretch’s side as much as possible, without arousing the brothers’ suspicions. They’d come and go as one would normally expect. No one but Outlaw, Johnnie, Mort, and Val, knew how Cash had been glued to Stretch’s side. Stretch didn’t even know.
“She might die,” Stretch repeated again.
“No, she won’t,” he said in a hard voice. “Ophelia is a fighter. She’s a Donovan.”
Stretch swallowed. “I want to go to the hospital to be at her side, but Outlaw might see something. He might know.”
No might in it. Outlaw would know.
Cash closed the distance between them and took his face between his hands. “She’s going to survive this, babe,” he said, soft but fierce. “I’ve missed both of you so much. I owe you a lot. More than a mere apology. Fee will make it. She has to. Then, I’ll figure a way for us to be together.”
He pressed his lips against Stretch’s, appreciating his sigh. Settling his hands at the back of Stretch’s neck, he threaded his fingers through his hair, their tongues tangling. Possessed by urgency, Stretch lifted Cash’s shirt, his touch sending shivers through Cash. Moaning, he deepened the kiss, his cock hardening, his body responding to the familiarity of Stretch’s caress.
In the face of tragedy, he couldn’t remember why he’d let either of them go. In the weeks since, his life had been so empty. If Fee pulled through, he’d repair all the damage he’d done, convince her that the three of them could have a beautiful relationship without anyone knowing. A few times a year, he’d take them to Houston and Denver, even back to Kansas, where they had freedom. He’d show her his way was the best way and he’d do it with patience.
Stretch removed his shirt and unbuckled his jeans. Gazing into Stretch’s eyes, Cash saw the endless turmoil.
Unable to deny either of them the comfort they found in each other, he grabbed Stretch’s hand and led him to the bedroom, their kisses frantic and demanding. Needing the connection, the familiarity, they clung to each other, undressing with urgent tenderness and tumbling onto the bed.
Cash rose to his knees and tapped his cock on Stretch’s lips, not losing eye contact as he sank into the warmth of his mouth. Stretch licked his cock crown, then sucked him into his mouth again. Admiring Stretch’s dick rose from his manscape, Cash groaned, his balls tightening. A bead of cum glistened from Stretch’s dick head, watering Cash’s mouth. Prick still in Stretch’s mouth, Cash laid over Stretch’s body, and took the man’s hard cock between his lips. For a few minutes, they enjoyed the mutual pleasure, until Cash sucked harder, faster, determined to draw Stretch’s cum out.
Stretch’s back arched and he grunted, releasing into Cash’s mouth. Satisfied, Cash shot off. Breathing hard, he laid next to Stretch and took him into his arms.
He kissed his shoulder, his grief and heartache assuaged for the moment. Nothing would alleviate it until he saw Fee. “We’re going to the hospital and pretend this doesn’t affect us anymore than it does the rest of the guys. Understand?”
“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted.
Cash grabbed Stretch’s soft cock and massaged. “Of course you can. Fee needs us at her side. We can’t fucking bitch out because we’re afraid of what Outlaw might see in our faces.”
Stretch nodded. “We’d never forgive ourselves if she dies and we’re not at her side.”
“She’s not dying,” Cash gritted out. “Whatever else we’re facing we’re going to get through this.”
“We should have never given each other up,” Stretch whispered, echoing Cash’s thoughts. He’d be easy to convince. It was Fee who was stubborn. “We should’ve continued as we were.”
“She wasn’t happy,” Cash reminded him, releasing Stretch’s cock, and laying on his pillow. “You weren’t fucking happy.”
“Were you?” Bitter laughter escaped Stretch. “You must’ve been. You gave us up easy enough.”
“I wasn’t happy, but I’m not fucking crying over shit I can’t change.” Cash blew out a harsh breath, reminding himself not to lose his temper. “You and I together didn’t feel right without Fee here.”
“She’s not here now.”
“I needed comfort. I thought you did, too.”
Stretch stiffened. “This was a pity fuck?”
“We didn’t fuck,” he reminded him. “A pity suck, maybe?”
“Asshole.”
“Either way, we were pitying each other.”
Stretch faced Cash. “Once again, you’ve used sex in place of emotion. You could’ve comforted me without this. A hug would’ve done.”
Maybe, he did hide behind sex. Cash had never explored the accusation in depth. It wasn’t important now, since rando
m sex was a thing of his past.
The doorbell rang, followed by urgent pounding.
“You’re expecting company?”
“No, but I’m not at the club and my phone is charging.” Standing, Cash reached for his jeans. “This is probably about Fee.”
Stretch stared at the ceiling. “You’re right.”
“Remember to play it cool.”
“I will.”
“Burn the fucking clothes you had on. They’re full of blood. Grab something from my closet to wear.”
“Ghost, you in here?”
Cash’s brows snapped together at the sound of Slipper’s voice. As if the gravity of Fee’s injury wasn’t enough. If the man found Stretch here, he’d kill both of them. Fuck!
Stretch lay frozen in silence and fear. Cash placed a finger over his lips.
As the bedroom door creaked open, Cash stepped into the hallway, forcing Slipper back.
Slipper offered a sly grin and indicated his cock. “I should’ve known you were in here fucking.”
This statement must’ve gone over well with Stretch. Not that Cash’s wild parties were a secret, but Stretch was at a very vulnerable place right now and Cash wanted to protect him. Besides, Cash hadn’t fucked anyone else since the breakup, although Slipper didn’t know that.
“How the fuck did you get into my house, motherfucker?” he growled, not responding to Slipper’s words.
“You don’t want me in your fucking house, keep your fucking door locked.”
Fuck, Cash had forgotten to lock the door behind Stretch. “What’s up?” he asked, irritated with himself.
Slipper made a production of looking up and down the short hallway. “Stretch around?”
“No,” Cash lied without flinching, remembering his bike. It must’ve been parked in front of the house. He wouldn’t ask, though, to raise Slipper’s suspicions even further. “Now what do you want? I’m neglecting my cock and it isn’t happy.”
“Prez sent me here. He wants you at Mercy Hospital. His kid sister bad off. Stabbed and beaten. Stretch reported a motherfucker named Noah is responsible. Outlaw’s real upset. We’re having an emergency meeting.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 339
