Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “Meggie wouldn’t have asked him to give it up in the first place,” Roxy yelled. “The girl got more sense than that. You can’t change a motherfucker to suit you. The only person you have control over, have the ability to “fix”, is you.”

  Kendall’s face crumpled. “Even you think she’s better than me.”

  “Bullshit! I think both of you are beautiful, accomplished women—”

  “I’m an attorney. What has Meggie accomplished?”

  “You’re working on my last fucking nerve with your sadity bullshit, girl. You look down on her, so you must look down on me. I don’t have a corporate job. I don’t have a college degree. My highest paid job was working as a receptionist in a doctor’s office, a job I held for fifteen years, until I quit four years ago.”

  “I’d never look down on you, Roxy,” Kendall said on a sob, and bowed her head. “I love you.”

  “Aww, sugar,” Roxy whispered, hugging her. “I love you, too. You’re like a daughter to me. That’s why I want to see you happy with your man. I know you love Johnnie and don’t want to leave. You just don’t know what to do.”

  “Yes,” Kendall sniffled. “I want to cook Thanksgiving dinner for him, but I don’t know how to.”

  “Shhh. I’m going to New Orleans for Thanksgiving but I tell you what. I’ll write down recipes for you. You know the club always has Thanksgiving there, but, maybe, you can do something for the next day, using what I write.”

  “Okay.” Kendall got to her feet. “Let’s finish getting you ready for your date.”

  “Damn it, sound a little more enthused,” Roxy teased.

  “I don’t feel well. I wish Johnnie was here to rub my back.”

  Roxy snorted. “He’s home?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, go on then. I’ll manage.”

  “Meggie is coming,” Kendall reminded her.

  “Meggie is here,” Meggie said, walking into the room. Concern crept into her face. “Are you okay, Kendall?”

  “I’m tired,” Kendall responded.

  “Why don’t you rest?” Meggie said. “Um, tell me what you’d intended to choose for Roxy and I’ll help out.”

  “Kendall didn’t—” Roxy started.

  “Of course, Meggie,” Kendall said, drawing herself up. “You know I’m a fashionista.” She went to Roxy’s closet and came out a minute later, holding a red dress. “This was what we’d settled on with a pair of black stiletto sandals. Right, Roxy?”

  She really shouldn’t go along with Kendall’s bullshit, but, for the sake of time, she would. Besides, Kendall wouldn’t change, until someone put a bug in Johnnie’s ear. “Yeah, sugar. That’s just what we picked out.”

  Once Kendall left, Roxy invited Meggie to finish her nails in silence. Meggie was as talkative as Bailey, so Roxy knew something was on her mind.

  “Spit it out,” she ordered, after they finished her nails and they sat side-by-side on the edge of the bed, waiting for them to dry.

  Meggie sighed, then told Roxy about her conversation with Outlaw, and how he was so bothered by the principal teasing CJ.

  “Listen, baby. Outlaw had a dirty motherfucker for a grandfather. They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Not only did Logan’s grandsons fall from that tree, they left the entire fucking orchard behind. Remind him of that. Don’t let the boy be so hard on himself.”

  “Logan Donovan was a disgusting pig.”

  Chills ran along her spine at the mention of Logan, even though she’d brought him up. She grabbed Meggie’s hand. “I’ve never told anyone this. Not even K-P, but I ran across Logan one night. I was pregnant with Bailey. That dirty bastard called me all kinds of bitches and cunts. Then, he added that word, the most derogatory of all. He told me I was only good enough to spread my legs for K-P and I had a lot of nerve looking any of them in the eye.” Roxy shivered and bowed her head. “He said it in front of a few of the club women loyal to him. The ones who felt like he did. It broke me, Meggie. It took me a long time to get the sound of his voice and their laughter out of my head. That was the beginning of the end for me and K-P.”

  “Oh, Roxy,” Meggie said, leaning over to hug her. “I’m so sorry. I don’t hate many people, but I despise Logan. For what he did to Christopher and my father. Hearing what he did to you only makes it worse.”

  “At least I got to live, sugar,” she said softly, swiping at a tear. “So many women he ran across didn’t come out alive.” She pulled back and laid a hand against Meggie’s cheek. “Outlaw is a good man. If Logan didn’t destroy him, don’t allow him to do it to himself. Keep telling that man how proud you are of him. How proud you are to be his woman. He listens to you. He’ll get it through his thick head.”

  Meggie giggled through her tears. “I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you so much.”

  “I know, baby. I missed you, too. I was so worried about you. I knew you were going through a lot with Dinah gone.”

  “It was hard, but I understand. I know you needed to work through this. Face your mortality in your own way, without us hovering over you and reminding you even more that you were sick because we would’ve wanted to wait on you hand and foot.”

  That was one reason. The other had been her son. Roxy drew in a deep breath. “You do your daddy proud, Meggie.”

  “Thank you for that.” Meggie kissed her cheek. “For what it’s worth, you do K-P proud.”

  “I loved that man so much.” She got to her feet. “I still miss him. If he’d been here when I was diagnosed…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. “I know he’d moved on with Dinah and I wouldn’t have come between that.”

  “You two had a special bond, Roxy. The same reason I came looking for my father to save my mother, would’ve been the same reason K-P would’ve been at your side through your illness. Blood in. Blood out. Ride or die. You loved him and had a daughter for him. That made you his. One of us. Always and forever. That was a bond that Logan could never, ever break. Never forget that.”

  Roxy palmed away another tear, then sat in her vanity chair. “We’ve gotten too fucking sentimental, sugar. Help me pretty myself up. We have a motherfucker to trap.”

  Chapter Seven

  Knox stepped into the clubhouse at precisely eight o’clock that evening, expecting to find Roxy waiting for him. She’d come on to him so he would’ve thought she’d be salivating to be with him. After getting over the shock of his discovery that she’d had cancer, he reminded himself she was the enemy and his sympathy and admiration for what she’d gone through was misplaced.

  Tonight, the club crawled with bikers and almost naked women. One of them caught Knox’s eye and he nodded to her. As she headed to him, Outlaw Caldwell stood up from his seat at his corner table. He gestured to Knox.

  “Hey, lover,” the girl cooed, her breasts red with bite marks. Bright eyes checked him out. “Want some company?”

  He started to say ‘yes’, then remembered Roxy. He must act like he was really interested in her, if he wanted the information he sought. On the other hand, being a lascivious asshole might provoke the reaction he wanted from the club president.

  He tweaked the girl’s nipple. “Maybe, later.”

  She smiled. “If I’m available.”

  “Excuse me,” the man Knox knew as Val, the club’s Road Captain and the president’s brother-in-law, interrupted. “Outlaw need to talk to you. When he call you, don’t fucking ignore him.”

  “Or what?” Knox goaded with a smirk.

  Glaring, Val turned and stomped away.

  Knox laughed at the way the RC ran, with his tail tucked between his legs, then offered the girl a lazy look. “Would you like a drink?”

  She gave a nervous glance over her shoulder, toward Outlaw’s table, where Val stood talking to the man and gesturing to Knox. “Uh, you might want to see what he wants,” she advised.

  “Really? Why would I do that?”

  “It’s his club,” she said, low. “You piss him off, he can
bar you from setting foot on the property.”

  So true, and something Knox hadn’t considered. He’d been too wrapped up in the ease in which he was winning the cat-and-mouse game. Hell, it wasn’t even that. Their gullibility made his undercover work boring. But he’d play by the rules for tonight.

  “You’re right, angel,” he murmured, then held out his hand. “I’m Knox by the way.”

  The girl giggled and slid a finger down the center of his palm. “Gail.”

  “A lovely name for a lovely girl,” he bullshitted. She wasn’t ugly but she could nowhere touch Roxy’s beauty. He frowned, wondering where that thought came from. “If you’ll excuse me, I best see what Outlaw wants.”

  “Yeah, do that,” she said, already honing in on another target to offer her services.

  “Bring me a beer to that table,” he ordered the big man behind the bar.

  The man eyed him with aggravation, but nodded.

  Knox made his way to the table, surprised to see Brooks sitting between Val and Digger. The big bikers had obscured the smaller, more elegant man.

  “Brooks—” Knox started. He hadn’t crossed paths with the man for the entire day. After Kendall and Roxy left, Knox remained in Brooks’ office for another half hour before he decided to leave. He hadn’t come across anything in the six files he’d read through. There were a bunch more, but he also had to pretend to do the work he’d been hired for, so he’d brought his ass down to the courthouse to file a few documents that Brooks tasked him with and Knox had yet to get done.

  “Sit down, assfuck,” Outlaw ordered in cold tones as a completely naked girl brought Knox the beer.

  “I’ll stand, thank you,” he murmured.

  Outlaw’s hands shook. He picked up his bottle of tequila and drank deeply. “You in my fuckin’ club, motherfucker,” he bit out, his green eyes so filled with rage that Knox paused. “You wanna continue to be able to walk the fuck in this motherfucker, you listenin’ to what the fuck I say when the fuck I say it.”

  The words could be construed as a threat but they could also mean he would be barred. That wasn’t good enough. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Take it however the motherfuck you wanna,” Outlaw snapped, getting to his feet, the words surprising Knox. It wasn’t the threat he wanted but he hadn’t cowered either.

  Fuck, but the biker was tall. Knox was six feet and Outlaw had at least four inches on him. The big hands gripping that tequila bottle could crush his skull or his windpipe or any number of vital body parts.

  Clearing his throat, Knox slid into a seat, trying not to flinch as that cold, green gaze lasered him.

  “You goin’ out with Roxanne,” Outlaw started. “She Bailey ma and Mort’s ma-in-law. Keep your fuckin’ hands to your-fuckin-self and your cock in your pants.”

  “She’s a grown woman.” Knox took issue with the order. It heightened his determination to get her into bed. No man told him what to do, especially a violent offender like the club president. “If she wants my cock out of my pants, there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

  Digger and Val remained silent, enjoying their various drinks and eyeing him with dislike. Brooks looked drawn and haggard. He should want to blab all the secrets of the club to Knox, but so far he’d ignored all hints to talk.

  “Anything else, Outlaw?” Knox asked with cool authority.

  Another long scrutiny before Outlaw grinned without humor, then shook his head. “No, motherfucker, you got shit covered.”

  Catcalls and whistles drew their attention away from the table. Knox blinked as Roxy sashayed toward him in a short red dress that showed off a pair of gorgeous legs. The low-cut neckline drew attention to her breasts. He wanted to know how they looked and felt. He knew about her double mastectomy and reconstructive surgery…Curiosity ate at him.

  Strictly for the case, of course. Knowing her inside and out would help him use her to his advantage.

  It didn’t matter that her straight, black hair reached below her shoulders, turning her into a sultry sexpot. He didn’t care that she wasn’t frail now. If he hadn’t delved into her background, he would’ve never known about her breast cancer.

  Speaking of which…he leered at her tits, lewd thoughts involving them and his cock invading his brain.

  Megan stepped around her and headed to Outlaw. Knox barely took note of her, barely remembered he wanted to use her to smoke out her husband.

  “Evening, Knox,” Roxy greeted, her light brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “Roxy,” Knox responded, not sure what to say. The woman from this morning, the one in the dowdy pajamas, he could handle. Even the one who’d worn the jeans and wedged sneakers. That woman would be happy to be with a man like him. But he’d dated women like the one before him. He’d married one of them. Divorced her, too, though that wasn’t the point.

  “You got to fucking go on a date with this motherfucker?” Mortician grouched, walking up to the table.

  “I don’t got to go no damn where,” Roxy said. “I want to go out with him.”

  That righted Knox’s equilibrium again. She’d come on to him. She was an easy mark.

  “Fuck Roxanne, can’t you just go find some fucking granny clothes?” Mortician’s displeasure came through. “You Bailey mama. You not supposed to look like you got a pussy to give up.”

  Knox choked.

  “Fuck off,” Roxy snapped. “How do you think Bailey got here? I had to have a pussy to give up, motherfucker.”

  “Shit, images,” Digger complained, pretending to gag as Mortician turned a horrified face to Roxy.

  “Don’t look like that,” Roxy ordered. “You brought my pussy up.”

  “Roxy, please!” Megan’s face reddened. “Should you talk about your vagina to your son-in-law?”

  “Vagina?” Roxy hooted with laughter then pulled Megan to her in a hug. “As soon as I get Kendall sorted out, you and me working on your cuss words.”

  “My ass been tryin’,” Outlaw said with a sigh. “Ain’t happenin’.”

  “Is this normal, everyday talk?” Knox couldn’t help but ask. They were wild and insane. If his father talked about his mother’s intimate parts like these people were, he would’ve been thrown out of the house.

  No one answered him.

  Roxy’s red dress hugged her curves and had him salivating over her ass. Her thin-heeled sandals elongated her legs. He kept picturing the Roxy from the photo. The one with the bald head. It was so hard to associate this woman with that one.

  “You ready, Knox?” she asked.

  “I am if you are,” he responded, feeling completely out of his element. Maybe, he should stick to using Kendall and trying to seduce Megan. Something about Roxy threw him for a loop.

  “Er, Roxanne?” Brooks’ call halted her stride as she sailed ahead of Knox.

  She halted, but didn’t turn, her posture stiffening.

  “Charlotte called me.” The words put Knox on alert. “She said you paid her a visit.”

  “And?” Roxy demanded, spinning to narrow her eyes at Brooks.

  “Did you have to punch her?”

  “You beat up Brooks’ bitch?” Outlaw asked in surprise.

  “That bitch insulted me,” Roxy said without apology. “I was trying to be civil, but I lost my fucking temper. Sue me.”

  “Roxanne, you still a sick bitch,” Mort said gravely. “You can’t be stressing yourself out.”

  A hurt look crossed Roxy’s face before she covered it up. “I’m not sick. I’m fine, so stop bringing it up. Stop treating me like a fucking invalid. You barely let me cook or anything.”

  “I’m just looking out for you,” Mortician said with irritation. “You been through a lot.”

  “And I’m better!”

  “Are you?” Mortician challenged. “Eight in the morning too early for you nowadays, when, at one fucking time you would be awake when the fucking cock crowed.”

  Instead of responding to Mortician, she glared at Knox.
“Let’s roll,” she snarled and stalked away.

  Interesting. What she’d gone through was a sore spot with her. Useful information for future reference.

  Offering a two-fingered salute to no one in particular, Knox sauntered behind Roxy.

  Outside, she lifted her face to the night breeze, her hair and skin illuminated by the lights. He was quite lucky he had such a pretty woman to pass the time with.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, curious about her in spite of himself.

  “Feel that?” she asked, ignoring his question.

  Knox glanced around, wondering what she meant. The brisk breeze was nothing out of the ordinary. “Do I feel what?”

  “The cool air. That’s God’s breath and I bask in it every chance I get.”

  Her answer surprised him. Investigation, he reminded himself, and forced a snort. “I never took you for the naïve, poetic type.”

  She looked at him through her lashes, obviously fake. They’d grown a half inch in the hours since he’d seen her. “I’m not just a hood bitch, boy. I’m a mama, a daughter, a church girl, a divorcee, a college student, a cook, and a problem solver.”

  “I’m not a boy,” Knox returned, wanting to get that clear before he addressed anything else. “I’m thirty-four. Also, a divorced dad to a nine-year-old son.”

  A Probate strolled by, unarmed, unlike when Knox had first visited to interview for the position with Brooks. In actuality, he’d been scoping out his targets.

  “Under me, you’re a boy. I’m forty-four years old.”

  “How about every time you call me a boy, I call you Ms. Roxy. I have to show respect to my elders.”

  “Fuck you. You do that shit and I’ll fuck you up. Age is nothing but a fucking number, motherfucker.”

  “The return of Hood Roxy,” he said dryly. “I’m honored.”

  She flipped him off, and he laughed.

  “Let’s go,” he said, and started off.

  At his car, he unlocked the door, then strolled around to the driver’s side and got in as Roxy slid into the passenger seat.

  As he strapped in, her legs once again drew his attention. He couldn’t wait to feel them wrapped around his waist, preferably while she wore her spiked heels. It disappointed him that she didn’t gush over his Mustang. Most girls did.