She placed a hand on her chest and mock-shivered. “He’s such a horrible man. He might shoot me.”
“No,” Knox swore, believing his words. “I’ll be there. I’ll keep you safe. We have right on our side. That means we’ll be okay.”
“I don’t know, dear,” Charlotte said. “Don’t underestimate Outlaw. I’m surprised he isn’t suspicious of you.”
“He isn’t. I’ve covered my tracks.” He’d killed someone in front of him. If he thought Knox undercover, he would’ve taken more care. “Now, I have an inside scope on the club and the goings-on. My contact has turned completely to our cause.”
Uncle Avalon boomed with laughter. “I envy your charm, boy.”
Not responding to his uncle, Knox sighed as Roxy’s lovely face rose in his head. She couldn’t matter to him. He had criminals to put away. If he couldn’t use Megan or Kendall to draw Outlaw out, he’d use Roxy. He winced. “Another thought has occurred to me,” he pushed out, the words bitter in his mouth.
“Maybe, you should pay your nephew more, Avalon,” Charlotte chirped. “He’s a plethora of ideas.”
“I still haven’t gotten your agreement to help me, Charlotte,” Knox reminded her, buying time to convince himself it would be right to use Roxy to get to Outlaw.
Hesitation dragged her features down. “I’m not sure. Brooks does have to deal with them on a day-to-day basis. I don’t want my husband to go missing.”
Her fear and concern angered Knox. This fine, upstanding woman shouldn’t have to suffer such worry.
“What happened to so anger Outlaw toward Brooks?” Knox asked, curious.
Charlotte lowered her lashes and sniffled, wiping at a stray tear. “I don’t know. The man’s psychotic.”
Uncle Avalon nodded. “And my poor partner has to suffer him daily. It doesn’t matter if something had happened, Brooks and Charlotte are good and he’s bad. Now, let’s hear your idea.”
Once again, Knox thought of Roxy. “They are all fiercely protective of one another. You have no reason to attack any of the ladies.” He cleared his throat. “Except the one who beat you up. I think if you show up and confront Roxy—”
“Don’t bring that harlot’s name up in this house!” Uncle Avalon boomed.
Knox stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. Your father told me what that trollop did at dinner. Not to mention the scene at the restaurant.”
The developments at J’s were no one’s business, but Knox would address the other accusation. “Mom and Dad acted like jerks, Uncle Avalon,” he snapped.
Charlotte gasped. “Are you siding with that two-bit hussy over your own parents?”
“She’s none of those things. Roxy’s been through a lot and I’d thank you not to discuss her at all if you can’t talk about her with respect.”
Uncle Avalon and Charlotte exchanged glances.
“I see,” Charlotte said through tight lips. “Apparently, Brooks has been keeping your relationship with Roxy away from me.”
“Brooks doesn’t know,” Knox bit out, deciding not to deny her statement. “It’s not his business.”
Deep disappointment creased Uncle Avalon’s brow. “It’s like that, huh, boy?”
“It isn’t like anything.” Embarrassment traveled through Knox. “Roxy’s nothing to me.”
Even as he said the words, they sounded harsh and untruthful. He didn’t send every woman flowers. He didn’t wear costumes or serve as a bodyguard or think about someone constantly. He didn’t miss…No! He wasn’t doing any of those things with Roxy. Thus far, everything had been to soften her and keep her on his side, he reminded himself.
Knox drew in a harsh breath, his mixed emotions an annoyance he’d prefer not to address. “I’ll buy you a designer dress if you do as I’ve suggested, Charlotte.”
“Oh dear, really? I’ve had to suffer through thrift shop clothes.” Another sniffle. “I’m surprised I haven’t gotten lice.”
Knox chuckled. “It isn’t that bad.”
“Be careful, boy,” Uncle Avalon said gruffly. “The woman you’re dealing with is as violent as those men.”
Roxy had a bad temper but she wasn’t violent.
“I don’t want you to get in over your head. Get into a situation you can’t find a way out of.”
For using her to get Charlotte into the party, Roxy would be furious. She might never forgive Knox. He’d have to go a lifetime without ever having her in his arms again.
He stiffened at the thought, then sighed. Perhaps, he was already in over his head with Roxy.
He had to do Christmas inventory with the kids, but Christopher was using the opportunity of them being out of the house to look for Thanksgiving shit. Already, those Pilgrim motherfuckers sat near the door of the attic, ready to be taken downstairs the day after Halloween.
Besides, it would get Christopher’s mind off the blow he’d received this morning when he’d called to inquire about the bracelet he wanted for Megan. The motherfucker had been sold.
Fucking SOLD! To a motherfucker other than him. That meant, Megan wouldn’t have it.
“Christopher?” Johnnie called from the hallway.
Johnnie and his bitch took fucking liberties using the codes to get the fuck into the house when he had to ring a fucking bell to get into theirs. Not that he wanted to be at that motherfucker.
“What?” he barked, annoyed.
Carrying two velvet cases, Johnnie stepped into the room and looked around. “Mr. Mom,” he said, snickering.
“Fuck off.” Using Johnnie’s appearance as an opportunity to take a break, Christopher lit a cigarette. “What the fuck you want?”
The moment he asked the question he realized he hadn’t told Johnnie about the information Roxy had given to him. That meant, he’d been right about Knox, so he bet his cock he was right about something going on with the bank accounts.
Johnnie shoved the smaller case into his pocket before opening the bigger one. A choker with at least five rows of diamonds sparkled and gleamed in the dim attic light.
Christopher choked, everything else flying out of his head.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Johnnie asked, gloating. “Kendall is going to love this. I had it specially made for her.”
Christopher touched the necklace, imagining Megan with it. It wasn’t often he envied Johnnie. Every now and then, it rose up. For all of their lives, there’d be a rivalry between them. But just remembering Johnnie saying diamonds were above Megan made Christopher long to have what Johnnie held.
Johnnie pulled the case back, got the smaller one, and stuffed the larger one in his pocket where it hung halfway out. The teardrop earrings were just as brilliant as the choker. “I don’t know if I can wait until Christmas,” he said, closing the box and shoving it in his other pocket. “Kendall will love these. I’m not trying to start anything, but it’ll make it even better for her that she’ll finally have something that Megan doesn’t.”
“Get the fuck outta here,” Christopher growled, wondering why the fuck the motherfucker had to get his bitch’s diamonds today when he’d found out he’d lost what he wanted for Megan. “Megan got diamonds. Her engagement ring got fucking diamonds. She got diamond earrings.”
“Studs, Christopher.” He tapped his cut. “These are special.”
“Get the fuck outta here before I shove them special motherfuckers up your ass. Why the fuck…” Christopher narrowed his eyes at Johnnie. “You know, huh, motherfucker? You fuckin’ know about the bracelet I wanted to fuckin’ get Megan.”
Johnnie shrugged. “It’s the jeweler we all used for our rings, Christopher. He mentioned some woman coming in and buying the bracelet you wanted for Megan. I’d already intended to bring the choker and necklace to show you and Megan.”
“She ain’t here, so you just brought your fuckin’ ass in my fuckin’ house to fuckin’ gloat, motherfucker. I thought you was fuckin’ better than that.”
“I’m not gloating,”
Johnnie said sharply. “Am I happy you didn’t get the bracelet for Megan? Yes. It would just be something else to upset Kendall. And Megan wouldn’t appreciate this.”
“Motherfucker—”
“I wouldn’t appreciate what?” Megan asked before Christopher had the chance to blast Johnnie with words and bullets.
Johnnie pulled out the necklace case and opened it.
Megan rushed forward. “Omigod, that’s gorgeous!”
“It’s Kendall’s,” Johnnie announced smugly. “Her Christmas present, along with these earrings.” He showed the earrings.
If Christopher hadn’t been watching closely, so fucking closely, he could see the slight throb of Megan’s temple, he wouldn’t have noticed her disappointment. It was so quick, so subtle, he could’ve missed it.
“Kendall will love those,” Megan said. “They suit her perfectly.” She smiled at Johnnie. “You’re right.” A smile for Christopher. “He’s right. While every girl likes diamonds, this is too much for me. I don’t need that. Besides, I have you, Christopher. My own special diamond.” She came up to him and stood on her tiptoes. “I love you. I just wanted to steal a kiss and let you know we’re back. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes.”
“You done what you came to,” Christopher said. Tomorrow, he’d be over his aggravation at Johnnie’s assfuckery. Tonight, he was pissed and hurt and disappointed. “So fuck off, motherfucker.”
Turning his back on his brother, Christopher went back to sorting through the boxes, dismissing the smug motherfucker without another word.
Chapter Twenty-One
Knox adjusted his geometric patterned tie, smiling at how gangster-ish he looked in his pin-striped black pants, matching vest with a red back, and a starched white shirt.
He couldn’t wait to see Roxy to discover if she’d received—or liked—the roses he’d had delivered yesterday. He hadn’t seen her and she hadn’t called him
She was such a hard-nut to crack. He wished he could see into that mind of hers, if only for a moment, to discover what made her tick.
The thought gave Knox pause and he frowned at his reflection in the mirror. He wanted to discover what drove her strictly for professional purposes, he consoled himself. If he knew that, then he’d know how to keep her in his back pocket. As it was, he’d convinced himself she was playing hard to get to keep up appearances at the club. Getting her back in bed would reinforce her loyalty to him.
His ringing phone interrupted his plans for his next move. Callie. Seeing his ex-wife’s name concerned Knox. She rarely called him. In the months since their divorce had been finalized, he’d heard from her three times.
“It’s Grant, Knox,” she said, once he answered. “He misses you so much. I…Forgive me for keeping him away from you.”
“You mean barring my phone calls?” he said coldly. Because that’s what she’d done by first not allowing him to talk to their son with a bullshit excuse and then blocking his number altogether. Clearly, she knew how to contact him. “Moving across the country so I wouldn’t have access to him?”
“I’m so sorry, baby. Don’t be cross with me,” she cooed. “We share a son. Our little boy needs you. He wants you to spend Thanksgiving with him.”
“Are you serious?” he snapped. “I’m in the middle of an investigation.”
“You were always in the middle of something,” she huffed out, then laughed nervously. “C’mon, Knox. Don’t be one of those dads. Irresponsible and absent.”
Knox gritted his teeth. Callie always knew how to mess with his head. They’d met when she interned at his father’s company. She’d been twenty. He’d been twenty-three. Within six months, she was pregnant, and within nine they were married. For eight years, they’d fought. Fought each other or to save the marriage, Knox wasn’t sure. In the end, all three of them—Knox, Callie, and Grant—had been miserable.
When she’d gotten a job offer in Boston, she’d jumped at the chance. Sometimes, Knox wondered if that had been a last, desperate play on her part to save their marriage. If he fought for her by begging her to stay or agreeing to move across the country with her, she’d know he loved her. Instead, he’d filed for divorce. In her anger and rage, she’d blocked each and every attempt he made to see their son. Now, she was suddenly calling him.
“You can’t come for Thanksgiving or you won’t?”
Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Shouldn’t. The sum total of his and Callie’s relationship was fighting or fucking. At this point, neither would be good.
“Dad!”
Grant’s voice travelled through the line and hit Knox in the center of his chest. He dropped down on the bed and scratched his jaw. He missed his kid. He missed reading the newspaper in the mornings with him. Missed throwing footballs his way.
“Son,” he said, choking up.
“I miss you, Dad,” Grant said quietly, the mischief and happiness missing from his voice. “Come and see me.”
Knox nodded, although his son couldn’t see him. He wouldn’t deny his kid’s earnest plea. “Okay. I’ll be there.”
They both fell silent, the months of separation creating a chasm Knox didn’t know how to bridge. He thought of Roxy. She’d just say how she felt with no qualms and no hesitation.
He cleared his throat. “I miss you a lot, Grant. I promise I’ll try to do better.” It would only be as well as Callie allowed him.
“I miss you, too, Dad,” Grant responded. “My progress report was so good, Mom said I could try out for the soccer team.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you.”
“Will you come to some of my games?”
“We live hundreds of miles apart,” Knox reminded him.
“Mom said you might be able if I tell you.”
His little voice sounded so eager.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Knox promised. “Put Mom on the phone, please.”
“Okay. Guess what, Mom?” Grant yelled. “Dad’s coming.”
“Is he?” Callie said into the receiver. “Are you?”
“Yes. Let me make the arrangements. Find a hotel.”
“There’s no need for that,” Callie said sweetly. “My house is big enough for you to stay here.”
Once again, he thought of Roxy. He wondered how she’d feel if he went to visit his son and stayed at his ex-wife’s home. If the situation was reversed, he wouldn’t like it at all. Not that it mattered what Roxy thought, since they weren’t anything to each other. “I don’t think that’ll be a good idea.”
“Please, Knox,” Callie said, talking over Grant’s singing my dad is coming in the background. “It’ll be good for Grant.”
“Good for Grant, huh? What about when you were keeping him from me? That wasn’t good for him, yet you did it.”
“I know and I’m sorry. We have a history together. Don’t let my bad judgment cloud the fairness that I know you have.”
Knox squeezed the bridge of his nose. Callie could always butter him up, especially when she wanted something. After a while, he’d come to expect her coyness. It had made him feel so manly to know she’d use her feminine charms to get him to capitulate. He’d enjoyed it for a time. Maybe, he still did. He wasn’t sure. What he was certain of was remembering Roxy’s no-nonsense directness. If she wanted something from him, she’d come right out and say it. No games. No anything.
“I miss you.” Callie’s voice floated through the phone. “Grant misses you. We should never have separated.”
“Yes, we should have,” he said without hesitation. “We’d outgrown each other.”
“We’re older now. More mature. I spoke to Joan.”
His mother. “And?”
Callie cleared her throat. “She’s worried about you. She thinks you’re lonely. You hired a street prostitute to have as your date.”
“A what?” Knox asked, so shocked he couldn’t say anything else.
“A hooker,” Callie confided. “A Black one,” she said on a whisper.
�
��What?” Color had never mattered to his parents. “Roxy isn’t a hooker,” he bit out, offended on her behalf. “Furthermore, I can’t believe my parents are concerned that she’s Black.”
“It isn’t that she’s Black,” Callie said with a sigh. “It’s that she’s not White.”
“Same difference.”
“It isn’t,” she insisted.
“It’s semantics, Callie, and you know it.”
“Knox, listen to me. After hearing what this woman did in your parents’ house, the way she acted there and at the restaurant, it doesn’t matter if she’s polka dot. Joan and Hal aren’t aware of your dating history. They don’t know that you like women. As long as they’re gorgeous, young, and quiet, nothing else matters to you.”
“I’m not discussing Roxy with you. If that’s what you called for, then the conversation is over.”
“No, babe. Of course, I didn’t,” she said, backtracking. “I called because Grant has been asking to see you. I’ve missed you, too. We don’t have to make love. But we’ve been friends from day one. For instance, remember when we talked about having a big family? You wanted us to have three or four kids.”
He’d always wanted three or four kids. Being an only child had been lonely. “That didn’t happen, Callie.”
“But it can. Do you really want our son not to have brothers and sisters?”
“This isn’t a conversation to have over the telephone,” he said, her words shaking him. Certainly, Roxy couldn’t have children again. And he wanted more kids. Didn’t he? At least for Grant’s sake. “We’ll…we’ll discuss this when I get there.”
“You’re coming then?” she asked, her relief hard to miss.
“Yes.”
“And you’re staying with us?”
He and Roxy were not in a relationship. Even if they were, she’d have nothing to say about spending time with his son. If he wanted to stay with his ex-wife that was also his business. “Yes. I’ll call you with all my information.”
“You won’t regret this,” Callie said happily. “I promise.”
As he hung up, he imagined Roxy’s reaction. He’d just have to remain on the course he’d set and sleep with her on behalf of his investigation. With Callie calling and Grant needing him, the small seed of hope to cultivate a relationship with Roxy had been extinguished.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 392
