Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  A wave of paternal feeling buried his lust. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to retreat and at the very least, pull on his trousers. Instead, he couldn’t stop himself: he hadn’t seen Ava in a month, and he refused to wait another moment. He walked to the rocking chair, knelt on one knee and wrapped his fingers around Jordan’s tit.

  She blinked and tilted her head in his direction, smiling sleepily. “Umm, Cam,” she murmured.

  He gently cupped the back of the baby’s head and guided Jordan’s nipple to her mouth, holding both in position. Ava latched on immediately and started fussy sucks. She was giving both Cam and her mother a piece of her mind.

  “Other side,” Jordan mumbled after a few minutes.

  He guessed that meant move Ava to her other breast, a job he was more than happy to do. When Ava fell asleep and he saw Jordan was also out cold, he got to his feet and took the baby in his arms.

  He smiled at her. Since he’d last seen her, she’d grown so much. She was still bald-headed and brown-skinned, with chubby cheeks and long eyelashes. Her little bow-shaped mouth was simply adorable.

  Remembering something he learned long ago in a high-school class, he turned her onto his shoulder and patted her back until she let out a belch that could have come from a construction worker.

  Unable to stop grinning, he turned her around and cradled her in his arm. Ava was a helpless baby, totally dependent upon the adults in her life.

  Then all at once, it hit him again—he was holding the child without a stitch of clothes on.

  For a moment, he felt embarrassed, but then he looked down again. Ava had turned her head against his chest and nestled her little fists under her chin. She didn’t care what her daddy was wearing. She just loved being protected by him.

  Having two adults to care for her.

  He put her back down in her crib and then went back for Jordan, fast asleep in the rocking chair.

  Gathering her into his arms, he carried her to the daybed, tucking her in as best he could.

  He stole this opportunity to study her to his heart’s content. She was simply gorgeous, with her oval-shaped face and a nose as elegant as she was. The corners of her mouth had a small upturn, allowing the world to glimpse her friendliness.

  That this amazing woman loved him gave him a sense of deep satisfaction. He ran a finger along her jawbone and she turned her cheek into his palm, as if she acted on instinct. As if her sub-conscious told her he was there and she was safe.

  That was the reason she’d given in to such a deep sleep. She knew he’d protect her. She knew that she wasn’t alone any longer.

  In the back of his mind, he’d been weighing whether to pull Outlaw into the fight. But her trust tipped the balance. Jordan was his woman. He didn’t need another man defending her.

  His mother hadn’t raised a punk-ass bitch; he had things covered without anyone’s aid.

  Jordan awakened to the scent of bacon and the aroma of coffee. It took her a moment to remember she’d invited Cam in the house the night before. He must be cooking breakfast for himself.

  Bright sunlight streamed through the opened blinds. She bolted up to close them. She didn’t want the sun’s rays beaming on her daughter.

  Yawning, but feeling more rested than she had in days, she walked to the baby bed and found it…empty.

  “Cam!” she called, racing out of the room, all sorts of thoughts dancing in her brain. “Ava’s missing,” she screeched as she reached the bottom of the staircase.

  Cam walked out of the kitchen, and Jordan skidded to a halt. He held Ava in a one-arm cradle, snug against his bare chest.

  She didn’t know which sight was more arresting—Cam holding the baby or his wide shoulders and perfect six-pack. Chiseled muscles led to the waist of his trousers. Suddenly, she became aware that she didn’t have a robe on. She knew the silhouette of her body was clear to him. Her lacy panties covered her pussy but her breasts pressed against the thin silk of her cami.

  The hunger in his eyes made her squirm.

  Ava cooed.

  Without a single word, Cam walked to Jordan, placed a sweet kiss on her lips, then handed her the baby. “Ava’s fine,” he told her, in a husky, protective tone that made her heart thunder.

  “I need to leave for a bit,” he announced, disappointing her, “but I’ve called your nurse, Viola, to come and look after you and Ava while I’m gone.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, finding her voice again and remembering to feel relief that Cam was leaving. He would be safe as long as he wasn’t in the house with her. “Stein plans to visit today. She doesn’t need to be involved in my drama. It’s not safe for her!”

  The doorbell rang and Cam winked at her. “Too late, doc. She’s here.” He started toward it.

  “Wait!” Jordan cried. “Check through the peephole. It might not be her.”

  Stubborn man opened the door without following her instructions. Thankfully, it was Viola. Though that just put her in danger.

  The older woman walked in, a sly smile on her face as she sidled a glance at Cam. Her grin widened. “Doctor Will, you’re doing better than I thought. Mr. Baptiste went from being your buddy to walking around your house with his bare chest showing.”

  Jordan frowned at the nurse. “Don’t start,” she warned.

  Viola raised her hands. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ll just go put on some clothes,” Cam said, grinning at Viola.

  “Thank you for coming,” Jordan continued. “But you don’t have to babysit me. I gave you six weeks paid leave until I return, and you’re not meant to be at my beck and call.”

  A hurt look crossed Viola’s round face. “I’ve been waiting to see your little one. I thought you would’ve called me. A whole month has gone by. You really don’t want to be bothered with me? ” She turned toward the door.

  “No, wait, Viola,” Jordan called, going after her. “It isn’t you. I value our friendship! I’m having some issues and I don’t want you mixed up in them. I’m doing this to protect you.”

  Viola faced her again, her brow lifted. “Issues, huh? No wonder you haven’t been calling in to the office, checking on the practice. Paula shocked me when she said your practice partner was doing just fine, but she hadn’t heard from you.”

  Paula was the office manager, who was quite close with Viola.

  “I’m adjusting to being a new mom,” Jordan said. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. She held Ava out. “Would you like to hold her?”

  Viola seized the opportunity, ooing and ahhing over the baby. Once they were seated in the family room, Jordan had such a sense of motherly comfort that when the nurse asked her what was going on, she found herself spilling the beans.

  In the middle of her story, Cam came in, handing Viola a mug of coffee and Jordan a glass of milk. Jordan couldn’t tell Viola everything, of course, but she managed to explain that Ava’s father’s family was dangerous.

  “Bullies!” Viola snapped. “I hate them.”

  Stein was more than a bully, but Jordan loved Viola’s ferocity. She gained strength from it, and even more, if she were honest, from Cam. He hadn’t left. Instead he seemed to be everywhere, checking corners, paintings, pillows, rug, and flower pots.

  Even if Jordan hadn’t confessed that Stein had bugged her house, Viola wasn’t stupid. She would’ve sensed something by Cam’s actions.

  After an hour of back and forth, searching every inch, Cam walked into the family room, fully clothed. “Will you three be okay while I’m gone?”

  “Do you have to leave, Mr. Baptiste?” Viola questioned. “Suppose this Stein comes while you’re gone?”

  “That’s for the best,” Jordan said, in a better frame of mind. She still intended to get a gun and take care of the problem herself, but she didn’t feel as emotional. She’d had the best night of sleep she’d had in a month, knowing Cam was in the house. “Cam’s unarmed and what if Stein finds him here?”

 
; Viola scowled at her. “We’re unarmed, too, Doctor Will. I sure can’t shoot bullets out my ass. How am I supposed to protect you?” She glared at Cam. “For that matter, how are you supposed to protect her. You have superpowers I don’t know about? The ability to teleport you, Doctor Will, and little Ava away from crazy killers? The ability to load your fingers with ammunition and blow a bastard away?”

  “I’m a former police officer,” Cam said, grinning at her. He obviously liked Jordan’s nurse. “I know how to unarm a man.”

  “That’ll do us no good if you’re not here,” Viola pointed out with grouchiness. “I’m fifty-five-years old, too young to die, too old to get shot up.”

  “You’re right,” Jordan said. “You don’t have to stay with me. It’s not safe.”

  “I’m not leaving you, child.” A thoughtful look crossed her face. “But I think you should call Roxy to keep you company. She’ll make you laugh. I’ll just sit around, my face as pinched with worry as yours.”

  Jordan hadn’t seen Roxy in days, either. She’d pushed her away, too, just as she had everyone else. Viola was right, though.

  Roxy could take care of herself if Stein happened to show up.

  Christopher “Outlaw” Caldwell sat at his table in the corner of the main room at the clubhouse, checking the shipments he’d sent out against the payments the club was due. So far, so good.

  Stretch, the club treasurer, would have an easy time balancing the books this month. Christopher had seen to it, since the motherfucker was so wrapped up in his new baby. Or Cash’s. No one knew for sure, since their girl—and Christopher’s baby sister—had decided she didn’t want to know who her son belonged to.

  Cash and Stretch were married, she belonged to both of them, and now so did their baby. Christopher didn’t give a fuck as long as she was happy. The minute they started making her unhappy, he’d bury those two motherfuckers. Case fucking closed.

  Cash and Stretch were two of his boys, included in his inner circle. Stretch, especially, had been through a lot. Nearly beaten to death, being left scarred and limping. Going through surgeries to fix his shattered leg and smooth over the scar on his face.

  If Christopher had to fuck him up, then he would’ve wasted his fucking money, since he was the motherfucker who’d paid to have Stretch put back together.

  “Prez, I demand a fucking fumigation to get rid of whatever fertility ju-ju around this motherfucker,” the club enforcer, Mortician, grumbled as he walked to the table.

  Christopher snickered and laid his spreadsheet aside. “You the dumb motherfucker that agreed to Bailey bein’ pregnant again.”

  Sitting, Mortician placed his elbows on the table. “I didn’t think it would happen so quick, man.”

  “Mort, all we gotta do is blink and our bitches filled with our kids.”

  Before Mortician responded, his blood brother, Digger, walked to the table, yawning. “How the fuck you make it with four kids? My one keeping my ass awake.” He dropped into his chair and laid his head on the table. His wife, Bunny, had delivered their son, six weeks ago. Bunny was Megan’s assistant and intended to return to the job in two weeks.

  Johnnie, the club VP, joined them at the table. “I’ll be so glad when Kendall delivers. All she does is cry.”

  All that bitch ever did was cry when she wanted her way. All Johnnie ever did, with his dumb fucking ass, was fall for his bitch’s bullshit. Instead of responding, Christopher grunted.

  “I swear to Christ, I’ll never put my lovely wife through this hell again,” Johnnie vowed, taking a seat, looking as if he’d cry himself.

  “And I swear to fuck, you start cryin’ in this motherfucker, and I’m shootin’ the fuck outta you,” Christopher growled.

  “Fuck off,” Johnnie spat.

  “My woman got a lil’ motherfucker in her, too,” Christopher went on. “She ain’t walkin’ the fuck around feelin’ sorry for herself.”

  “Of course she isn’t,” Johnnie returned. “Her body can withstand twenty fucking pregnancies. She’s a baby machine.”

  “John Boy, shut the fuck up,” Mortician ordered, seeing Christopher’s hand go to his nine. “Prez about to shoot the fuck outta your dumb ass.”

  “Why Outlaw about to shoot Johnnie?” Val, the road captain, asked as he walked to the table and sat. He shook his head at Johnnie. “Let me guess. It got something to do with Kendall.”

  Digger made a buzzing sound. “Wrong answer. It has to do with Meggie and his stupid, fucking, brain-dead-ass comments that he can’t keep to his fucking self.”

  “We have a bet going,” Cash, the explosive’s technician, announced as he arrived. “We’re waiting for Outlaw to get enough of your stupidity and blow you the fuck away.”

  “I’m upping the ante,” Digger called, still resting his head on the table. “I say five G’s and it’ll happen before Meggie delivers.”

  Tuning the dumb motherfuckers out, Christopher watched as Stretch walked through the door, straight and proud. Every now and then, a limp could be detected, but, for the most part, the motherfucker had returned to pre-ass-beating stage.

  He took his seat at the end of the table, away from his husband. The love they shared was an open secret, but they were respectful and careful about how and where they exhibited their feelings. During their weekly dinners at each other’s houses, it was out in the open, there for their inner circle to see.

  But not at meetings and shit like that.

  “Since we all here, we can roll the fuck out after I lock up the reports,” Christopher announced. They had a meeting with a smaller club, two towns over.

  “Viola, what the fuck you doing here?” Mort called in surprise, at the sight of her walking towards them.

  Christopher snapped his brows together at the worried look on the woman’s face. She took care of Megan during office visits at Doc Will’s practice. Actually, the prenatal nurse had cared for all their bitches, except Kendall. Psycho cunt was too high-brow to keep Doc Will as her physician.

  Viola gave Christopher a hesitant look before answering Mort. “Mr. Mortician, I didn’t know where to go, but Doctor Will is in trouble.” Another glance at Christopher. “She’s trying to protect you, Mr. Caldwell.”

  “What the fuck you mean, babe?”

  “Oh, Mr. Caldwell, her baby’s uncles were there…” She came closer to him and whispered, “when you killed that good-for-nothing Sulley. I shouldn’t know but I overheard Doctor Will talking to Roxy.”

  More like she’d fucking eavesdropped, but what the fuck ever.

  “Stein and Silton Ward are their names,” Viola continued. “They have photos of you. They’re threatening to use them to send you to jail.”

  Send his ass to jail? Away from his Megan? His kids?

  “Doctor Will said she hurt your feelings and sent you away. Even told you she wouldn’t care for Meggie anymore. She thinks she’s protecting you. Then, there’s Mr. Baptiste. Those Ward boys are threatening to kill him.” She twisted her hands together. “I’m so sorry for coming to you, but I’m scared for her and I’m worried you took Doctor Will’s words to heart.”

  Christopher couldn’t get over the fucking fact that a motherfucker thought they’d take him away from his Megan and live to tell the fucking story. Nobody…no fucking body…came between him and his wife and continued to fucking breathe.

  “You did the right thing,” Cash said, walking over to the woman and guiding her to a chair. He signaled to Potter.

  A moment later, the Probate brought Viola a glass of alcohol. Cash shoved it at her. She was so lost in fear she put the glass to her mouth and drank before coughing and sputtering, water rushing to her eyes.

  “You don’t drink?” Cash asked in surprise.

  “You want a hit on a blunt?” Digger offered as Mortician pounded her back so hard she almost fell out of her seat. “A little herb will calm you down.”

  “Mr. Mortician, you’re going to break my back,” Viola gasped.

  “Oh,
fuck, girl, my bad,” Mortician said, stepping back.

  “Would you like a glass of water?” Johnnie called.

  “Mr. Donovan, I just want to make sure Doctor Will, Mr. Caldwell, and Mr. Baptiste will be okay.”

  Still unable to speak, Christopher snatched his nine from his side and released the clip. For this, he intended to use his hollows.

  “Does Cookie know about this?” Val asked, using Cameron Baptiste’s nickname.

  “She told him this morning. They had her house under surveillance but he had the signal scrambled.”

  No, the fuck he hadn’t. That was Stretch’s work, but Christopher understood the motherfucker wanted to allow Doc Will to believe he had the fucking sense to get that done.

  “Baptiste should’ve come to us,” Johnnie said.

  “He want to be Doctor Will’s everything,” Viola explained. “Surely, you understand that, Mr. Donovan. How would it seem with him having to come to another man to take care of his woman?”

  “As if he liked living,” Cash said. “Him and Knox aren’t even armed.”

  Another brain-dead motherfucker. How those two had a PI firm, Christopher didn’t know. They were the most clueless fucks on the planet. Maybe, it was best if Christopher took over. He’d intended to allow Baptiste to physically protect doc, while the club intercepted their technological surveillance.

  “Prez, you all right?” Mort said, eyeing him with suspicion. “Your skin a devil-red shade and you haven’t said a fucking word in a while. Can you say something so I know you don’t sound like you just rose from the depths of hell?”

  Christopher glowered at Mort. The motherfucker stepped back, and raised his hands.

  “Fool, what you trying to do?” Digger asked, stretching. “Outlaw about to burn you to ashes with that look. Leave him the fuck alone.”

  “Yeah, Psycho Stalker Wildman in the house,” Val observed. “A stupid motherfucker threatened him, and by extension, threatened Meggie.”

  Without acknowledging any of them, Christopher shoved the clip in a pocket, snatched the reports, and stormed toward his office. He had to call Riley, the PI on the club’s payroll, to get photos and addresses of those Ward fucks.