“You were fighting, too, CJ,” Diesel said.
“Him hit Harley. Fucka. My Harley.”
“Who hit Harley?” Mortician demanded.
“Ashfuck Rye. Him like to fight, Uncle Mort. Him don’t fight me. I make him bleed.”
“No, the fuck you ain’t makin’ no motherfucker bleed,” Christopher bit out. “You too fuckin’ young. Wait ‘til you ten or eleven.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Johnnie asked, outraged.
“Val, talk to your boy,” Christopher instructed, ignoring Johnnie. “Tell him not to hit no girls.”
“I do, Outlaw!” Val cried. “I don’t know where he gets that from.”
“Him hit Rebel, ‘Law, but her punched him in the mouth and made him cry. I show her how to fight.”
“Uh, maybe, we should leave,” Knox called, a little pale, although Grant seemed very fucking interested. “Grant isn’t a fighter.”
CJ frowned at Knox, appearing to like him even less than Christopher did. For some reason, the motherfucker had rubbed his boy the wrong way.
“If you call Kendall, I’ll go to the house and get Rory,” Diesel volunteered. He looked at Knox. “I promise I’ll watch him. He looks like he wants to come.”
“Do you, son?” Knox asked.
Grant nodded.
“Okay,” Knox said with a sigh. The moment the boys left, he looked at the ruined food on the table. “What happened?”
“I ain’t got a lot of fuckin’ time,” Christopher started. “You stayin’ for now cuz of your boy, but since the lil motherfucker gone right now, if you wanna stay the fuck in here with us, strip. I need to fuckin’ see you not fuckin’ bugged. Or get the fuck out.”
Knox tipped his head to the ceiling. “I deserve this.”
Before anyone said anything else, Potter stomped back in. “Brooks is here. He wants to see you.”
“Is Charlotte with him?” Johnnie growled.
“No,” Potter responded. “If the bitch is, she’s outside.”
“Send him in,” Christopher said. He needed to find some numbers and get to his office to make the calls. Time was wasting.
When Brooks walked in a few moments later, he paused upon sight of Knox.
“Get the fuck out, Knox,” Christopher ordered. If the attorney was there on his own volition, it was very important. “You want back in here with us, you takin’ off your fuckin’ clothes. And the only reason I’m even fuckin’ entertainin’ bein’ the fuck around you is for my fuckin’ boy. He like your kid. Ain’t makin’ them suffer cuz I can’t stand your fuckin’ ass.”
“I came because of Grant,” Knox rushed out. “But I realize he was my excuse. I’m here for the same reason I think Brooks has come.”
“And that is?” Johnnie asked. Since both of them were preppy motherfuckers, he had an affinity to Knox. He still didn’t know what a double-crossing motherfucker Knox was. “Why has Brooks come?”
“To tell you about my uncle,” Knox answered quietly, unease stealing away his usual arrogance. Without warning, he removed the sweater he wore and began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m not wired. I had no intention of coming here today. Then I met with my dad and his brother.” He held the sweater in one hand and the shirt in the other before turning around to show he wasn’t tapped. “Originally, I came to get information on you for Avalon to bring to the Feds and take down the club. I won’t lie. No matter how I tried, your luck held up and you wouldn’t incriminate yourself. Then, I saw you with your son and I realized you’re just a man like me. Even before this morning’s breakfast, I’d changed my mind.” He sent Brooks a pleading gaze, the look so fucking fleeting Christopher almost missed it. “I refuse to allow my uncle to separate you from your son as my wife took mine away.”
Christopher didn’t doubt Knox’s words. Reading people accurately kept him alive. However, he also believed Knox withheld information. Details that Brooks knew.
Besides, Knox was still an arrogant motherfucker. He really thought he was smarter than Christopher, so only luck had kept Christopher from slipping up. He’d address this shit later. He had to win this fucking bet and he had his own test for Knox.
“Brooks, me and you talkin’ first thing tomorrow,” Christopher started. “Hear me?”
“Yes,” Brooks answered.
“Second, lemme ask you, Knox, Roxy knew what the fuck you was doing here?”
Knox stilled at the question, then cleared his throat and began to put his clothes back on.
“Roxy holds you and this club in the highest regard,” he said after a minute of silence.
“Ain’t fuckin’ asked that,” Christopher countered.
A muscle ticked in Knox’s jaw before he finished dressing. “No, Outlaw,” he answered. “Roxanne didn’t know what I was doing. She’d never betray you.”
Roxanne, had, in-fucking-deed, known Knox’s intentions from the motherfucker himself, but his answer satisfied Christopher. If he’d told the truth and blabbed on Roxanne then that meant he’d never have any intentions of defending her. But he’d stood by her and protected what could’ve been seen as a betrayal to the club.
“Fine,” Christopher said. “If your kid wasn’t here, I’d give you her address to surprise her.”
Knox’s eyes lit up, another indication he cared about Roxanne.
“Since he is and you ain’t going there, fuck it. I gotta get the fuck to my office to find some motherfuckers for fuckin’ food, while the rest of these motherfuckers get rid of this fucked up shit.”
Brooks shoved his hands in his pockets. “Can I stay for supper?”
“You can,” Christopher said. “But your bitch ain’t welcomed.”
“Okay.”
With Knox and Brooks staying for the time being, Christopher left the kitchen to get to work on food. Time was rushing by, so he didn’t have another second to spare.
Later that evening, Christopher tipped his bottle of tequila back, quite fucking satisfied with himself. The girls lost by two burned pies, claiming they were forgotten in the oven because they’d been talking.
He was so fucking stuffed. Earlier, at the club, they’d eaten the food everybody thought they fucking cooked. But Christopher had called around until he found a few old ladies who’d cooked for their families, and bought their food, along with their silence. After spending a couple of hours at the club, he’d then led his wife, kids, and their family to his house to eat the girls’ food. The shit had been delicious, but he wasn’t about to go down like a bitch-ass.
Now, the girls sat talking amongst themselves at a table, looking more than a little confused as to how the fuck they lost, while Christopher and the guys, including Knox and Brooks, sat around the bar in his man cave.
With Thanksgiving almost over, Megan was playing Christmas music. Usually, it cheered her up but not tonight. All because she’d lost. Well, the little bitch had agreed to psycho cunt’s contest, so she had to suffer the consequences.
Christopher grinned to himself. Tomorrow, as they ate breakfast in the mall court, he’d confess. Shit would be over. Him and his boys would’ve had bragging rights for the evening. Tonight, he intended to eat her pussy for hours and then fuck her brains out.
“I can’t let Kendall’s first efforts be such a spectacular failure,” Johnnie complained. “She looks so fucking sad.”
“John Boy, I fuckin’ swear you open your fuckin’ mouth and I’m sewin’ your fuckin’ lips to-fuckin-gether,” Christopher promised, outraged that his brother would fuck up all his hard work. The motherfucker didn’t have a month-long pussy shut out facing him.
“Yeah, Johnnie, you agreed to Red conditions,” Mortician pointed out. “Don’t be a turncoat now.”
“We’re not only turncoats, but we’re cheats,” Johnnie insisted. “Look at her gorgeous face. She’s close to tears.”
“MegAnn,” CJ screamed happily, running in and leading a line of children, including Knox’s boy.
“MegAnn!” Rory yelled, grinn
ing and bouncing up and down.
“What did I say, young man?” Kendall called sharply, deflating Rory. “She’s Aunt Meggie or Aunt Megan. Not MegAnn.”
“It’s okay, Kendall,” Megan said in a rush, smiling at Rory. “He’s just following CJ.”
Kendall opened her mouth to speak, but Johnnie said, “Gorgeous, let it go. If Megan says it’s fine, it’s fine. Our son is just enjoying himself.”
Although she didn’t look pleased, Kendall nodded.
“What’s up, potato?” Megan called to CJ.
“Mommie sad?” CJ asked, staring at Megan.
“No, buddy. Mommie’s fine.”
A twinge of guilt hit Christopher, but telling the truth couldn’t happen.
“Mommie lost?” CJ persisted.
Megan sighed. “Yes, CJ. Mommie and your aunts lost to daddy and your uncles.”
CJ frowned. “Dee copy all the stuffs you want ‘Law to see.”
Christopher choked as Megan gasped. “What the fuck you said, CJ?”
Zoann groaned, Kendall scowled. Bunny bowed her head and Bailey suddenly found the back of the fucking room very interesting.
“What Little Man talking about, pretty girl?” Mort called.
“Nothing, Lucas,” Bailey mumbled.
“Bunny, girl, you helped to cheat your man?” Digger asked with outrage. “All we needed was a little fucking help to make this even and you let Meggie give us bad instructions?”
“Megan, what the fuck he mean?” Christopher demanded. The wicked little bitch. He was so fucking proud of her scheming. Not that she could outmaneuver him. Still… “You know what the fuck you was doing, huh, baby? Setting my ass up to lose.”
Throwing Christopher the evil eye, Megan sniffed and lifted her chin. “I knew you’d try something, given the terms of our bet, so I put out fake recipes. Obviously, you were on to me because you didn’t use any of them. The food you cooked came out really good,” she finished glumly.
“’Law made the food him cooked go in the meatshack, MegAnn,” CJ announced, smiling in Christopher’s direction. “Him buyed food to put out.”
“WHAT?” Megan screeched, jumping to her feet.
“Bye, ‘Law,” CJ hollered, running out as if he hadn’t just made his ma thoroughly fucking pissed with Christopher.
“Now, baby, listen up,” he began after the traitorous little motherfucker left with the other kids.
Megan took off one of her shoes and threw it at his head. He ducked and the flat landed on the bar.
“You big jerk!” she yelled, already removing her other shoe to throw at him.
“Clearly, we’ve won,” Kendall said, glaring at Johnnie. “I can’t believe you cheated!” She sniffled.
“Asshole,” Bailey gritted out, stomping out of the room.
“Aww, come on, pretty girl,” Mort called.
Bailey slammed the door to illustrate her anger. Until then, the motherfucker had been opened.
“Puff…”
“Shut the fuck up, Val,” Zoann ordered.
Val winced as Johnnie rushed to Kendall and drew her into his arms, whispering to her.
“Prez, you got to talk to the lil bro,” Digger pleaded. “He got us in all kinds of shit.”
Ignoring Digger, Christopher got up and went to Megan. “I had to do something, Megan. You think I wanna be locked outta your pussy?”
“You’re the moron that came up with the terms!” she fumed. “All you needed to do was amend them.”
“Fuck no! I ain’t a pussy. When I make a bet, I ain’t goin’ the fuck back on it. Any-fuckin-way, the bet over. We was declared the winner. That mean, I still get to have your pussy.”
“I don’t think so,” she hissed, well and truly pissed. “You’ve been locked out!” she announced, and stomped out.
Frustrated to fuck, Christopher kicked the chair closest to him. Digger was right. He needed to talk to his boy and tell him to shut the fuck up. Because of CJ, he’d go the next month in Pussy No Man’s Land.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Roxy sat on the edge of the bed, as she usually did once she swallowed her Tamoxifen. Six months down for this phase of her treatment, fifty-four left to go. In terms of time, months sounded better than years. She could handle fifty-four months, as opposed to four-and-a-half years. She was crazy like that.
She debated on talking to her doctor about a lower dose, in an effort to get rid of some of the side effects that continued to plague her. However, it worried her that a lower dose would leave her more at risk. Logically, she knew her oncologist wouldn’t take counterproductive measures and would follow the best treatment plan to keep Roxy healthy.
Mentally, though, she needed to continue with the twenty milligrams.
Her phone buzzed. Leaning over, she grabbed it from the nightstand. Her activities for the day popped up. She’d already spoken to Bailey, Kendall, Meggie and Zoann, so she could cross that off. Mortician would call later and Outlaw would send her a text with one word: Yo. She didn’t know why she even included them in her daily tasks.
She’d been in New Orleans for ten days already. Whenever she visited, she felt like she was home. Now, she felt as if she was visiting. In her own damn house.
It no longer felt like hers, though. In her absence, her mother had put her own stamp all over it, despite the fact that this was one of the last things K-P had purchased for her right after she left Portland and returned to New Orleans.
This was no longer her haven. Carissa and Alexia kept their rooms here, but Bailey’s room had been turned into an office/workout studio. Duke’s room was silent, frozen in time, right down to the same sheets and comforter on the bed the day he’d stormed out of the house.
Roxy didn’t belong here anymore. She’d entered another chapter in her life, one she had to embrace—club life. With Knox…No, not with him.
She couldn’t be with a man she didn’t fully trust. The sad part about it was she was just as untrustworthy. She’d gotten with him under the same false pretenses he had her. Instead of coming right out and telling him, she’d hinted, hoping he understood her.
Why she thought he would, she wasn’t sure. He wouldn’t see a boulder falling from the sky.
“Roxanne?” Pearllene called as she opened the door and limped in. She winced. “My bones are creaking and cracking something fierce today.”
“It’s cold outside, Momma.” Roxanne patted the spot next to her. “Your arthritis always worsens in the winter.”
“Winter not here yet. It’s that damn cold snap.” Pearllene dropped next to her. “I got coffee brewing.”
“I could do that.” From the time Roxy arrived, she’d been having this same argument with her mother. “You just need to give me a chance to get up.”
“I didn’t come in here to talk about damn coffee. I came to ask you about this Knox character.”
“Big-mouthed heifers,” Roxy complained, referring to her daughters. She huffed out a breath. “There’s nothing to explain. He was a man I went out with a couple of times. Nothing came of it.”
“You care about him.”
She didn’t want to address that, so she shrugged.
“What did he do?”
Pearllene didn’t know a lot about what went on at the club, and Roxy wasn’t about to break the MC’s confidence and go into details, so she stuck to the simplest answer. “He decided to spend Thanksgiving under his ex-wife’s roof.”
“He did?” Pearllene asked with a frown.
“Can we drop the subject? I really don’t want to talk about him. Are you up for more shopping after your doctor’s appointment?”
“Hell no. We have the tree and all the decorations up. You and the girls go shopping. I have a friend of mine coming over to bring me to my appointment.”
“Who? Ms. Edna?” Her mother’s life-long friend.
“No. A gentleman friend. I’ve been seeing him for about four months now. A baby under me. Fifty years old, but fine as hell.”
> Roxy stared at her mother. “You have a boyfriend?”
“The bastard is too old to be considered a boy. I have a man friend.”
“Oh Lord have mercy.”
“Before I die, I wanted to have a little fun.”
“You’re not dying.”
“The fuck I’m not. Your ass is, too. From the day we’re born, we’re dying. It’s just a matter of when.”
“I’m not…I can’t with you, Momma. This is just too much to handle so early in the morning.”
Pearllene patted her knee. “Don’t worry about me. I have a good life insurance policy. When I join Jesus, you’ll have more than enough to give me a good funeral. I want a Jazz band. Understand? Maybe, a bag piper playing Amazing Grace.”
“You’re planning your funeral now?”
“Why would I do that? I’ll be dead. I won’t know what the fuck you’re doing. It won’t be my problem.”
Roxy groaned.
“Enough about my death, how are you feeling about Duke? We never really had a chance to talk after that scene on Thanksgiving Day. You were crying too much.”
“I’ve accepted it.” The words didn’t sound truthful, but what more could she say? “I have no choice.”
“You gave that boy nothing but love and kindness, so you have nothing to regret. This is all on his ass. The next time I see him, I’m cracking the fuck out of him again.”
“He’s ashamed of me, Momma.” The dinner with Knox’s parents came to her mind. “Maybe, he’s right. I made a plum fool out of myself when I met the Harringtons. Their treatment was so shitty and I lost my temper, cussing them both in their own house, instead of walking away.”
“First of all, it’s your damn mouth. If you want to string nothing but cuss words together, that’s your business. You’re his mother. He’s not your father. Second, if those motherfuckers fucked over you, you had every right to give them the business.”
“In their house? That’s like someone coming here and cussing me or you. I regret that so much.”
“Then fix it, Roxanne. Apologize to them, then move on. I didn’t raise a whiny bitch so stop it this minute.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 406
