“How shocking,” she muttered.
“One other fuckin’ thing.”
“What now?” she huffed out.
“The club gotcha back. You gotta learn to have ours.”
She waited a moment longer for him to add something to that, but he didn’t, so she walked away with his words floating in her head.
TODAY WAS FINALLY FUCKING VALENTINE’S Day. Three and a half weeks ago, when Christopher had been searching for Meggie, he hadn’t had the ball on his mind. He hadn’t much of fuck-all on his mind. But as she grew stronger, she started with her plans all over again. Seven days ago, she’d been released from the hospital, and plans really kicked into high fucking gear.
Seeing his Ma was fine, CJ had started acting normal again, too. Megan had made him write a handwritten note to Kendall. The letters CJ made had been crooked, backwards, out-of-shape, huge, tiny…just fucked up, but, hopefully his boy had learned his lesson.
As Megan, CJ, Johnnie, and the entire fucking club was getting right, Christopher was searching for fucking Mystic and whoever the fuck else involved in Megan’s abduction. Except Randolph. That motherfucker Christopher had to let go.
Megan had told him how Hopper had saved her and how she, in turn, wanted to save her son. Although he had a few fucking problems with Randolph, he’d let him live. Further, he intended to pay Hopper for what she’d did on his woman’s behalf.
Riley had interrupted his vacation to compile the list of residences for the Imperials’ local members when Megan had been missing. Therefore, the motherfucker decided to extend his vacation and was still overseas.
That meant Christopher had to rely on Knox and Cameron to help hunt down Mystic for him. They had a nationwide hunt going on for the motherfucker, but, so far, he hadn’t been sniffed out.
Christopher glanced at the time. Soon, he’d have to start getting ready for the ball. Valentine’s Day was important to Megan, so it was now important to his ass.
“Knock, knock,” Knox said, walking into Christopher’s man cave. Unable to leave Megan for too long, he conducted business from home, with the exception of church. That still took place on club premises.
“What?” Christopher grumbled. “Unless you tellin’ me where Mystic, I ain’t wantin’ to talk to your fuckin’ ass.”
Knox held up a piece of paper. “It’s your lucky day, Outlaw. I have a location for Mystic.”
About fucking time. Standing from the bar stool, Christopher snatched the paper from Knox’s hand.
“What about Randolph and his ma?” Christopher asked, distracted by reading the information on Mystic that Knox had printed out.
“They are harder to locate,” Knox admitted. “Every time we think we’ve found them, they move to another location.”
“It ain’t imperative that you find them. When you do, you do. They gonna live, so they can fuckin’ run the next twenty years if they wanna.”
“Uh, yeah.”
The cop in Knox still had a problem with Christopher’s retaliation methods.
“Mystic is about thirty miles from here. Cameron assured me that everyone involved in this is with him. A third of the local chapter’s members.”
Fuck! The motherfucker would be found on the day of Megan’s ball.
Once again, he glanced at the clock on the wall. He needed to get his ass upstairs to see to his sons getting dressed and then to change into his own monkey suit. But he couldn’t let Mystic-the-motherfucker get away and, if he delayed, that might fucking happen. The motherfucker was worse than Houdini, disappearing on a goddamn dime.
Christopher wouldn’t be able to torture Mystic, but he’d take care of him.
“Ima take the shit from here, Knox. Thanks for this.” He flickered the sheet of paper.
Once Knox left, Christopher placed calls to Mutt and Jeff, the two police officers on his payroll. When they understood their roles of going to the address Christopher gave them and “arresting” Mystic, he dialed Mort, Digger, Johnnie, Val, Cash and Stretch, informing them of his plan. They’d been stockpiling shit for weeks, once Christopher decided he was going to take down the Imperials instead of seeking out peace.
Megan’s disappearance had sidelined that. Now, the shit would come in so fucking handy.
His plans in motion, he stood and headed across the hall to Megan’s office.
She claimed she’d gotten behind in her paperwork. Christopher wanted her to do nothing but rest. Of course, she wasn’t listening. She didn’t complain about the reinstallation of her detail, although she wouldn’t let him plant a tracking device under her skin.
He considered offering another baby to her, but that meant they’d have to fuck with his cock again, and he didn’t know if he wanted that. How-fucking-ever, she stayed mostly home, to make him feel better, during her pregnancies. If that’s what it took to keep her close, then that’s what he’d fucking do.
Walking into her office, he stopped. She was asleep in her chair. His heart twisted, and he went to her, lifting her into his arms. She opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at him.
Upstairs in their room, he laid her on the bed, then kissed her lips.
“Christopher?”
“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “I gotta run a errand. I ain’t gonna be long.”
“Okay,” she responded, and fell back to sleep.
Once he got the AKs from a locked room at the club and his boys arrive, he could ride and get his revenge.
ARRIVING AT THE WAREHOUSE HE’D briefly stored guns in, him and his boys dismounted, then got their rifles.
Inside, Christopher found Mutt and Jeff, still in their cop uniform, aiming sawed off pump action shotguns at Mystic and six other fucks, all lined against the wall.
“No reason for us to be here!” Mystic snarled.
“I fuckin’ disagree,” Christopher announced, walking in front of Mutt and Jeff so Mystic could see him.
Mystic’s eyes widened. Grunts and groans escaped the other motherfuckers. They knew what the fuck was about to happen.
“Outlaw,” Mystic called, uncertainty in his voice.
Seeing the rifle Christopher held, he shifted.
Christopher beckoned his boys out of the shadows. They walked forward, AKs in hand, and aimed them.
“Outlaw, I can explain!” Mystic started.
“You won’t get away with this,” a smart motherfucker called. “Our club will avenge us.”
“They can fuckin’ try,” Christopher said with nonchalance.
Lighting a cigarette, he jammed it in the corner of his mouth, then nodded to the two cops. Mutt and Jeff lowered the sawed-offs and backed away.
“Outlaw! Outlaw! No, please! It isn’t—"
Opening fire, Christopher cut off Mystic’s words with a round to the neck. The shot threw him against the wall and he bounced into the shots Christopher unleashed. Mortician, Digger, Val, Johnnie, Cash, and Stretch did the same, spraying the seven motherfuckers from left to right, and back again. Blood, flesh and bone flew in all directions, coating the wall, the floor, him, but he didn’t give a fuck.
Mystic had taken his Megan. Motherfucker was getting off easy. Christopher had intended to torture him.
He fired his AK, even when his boys had stopped. Until the dead fucks were faceless, and their bodies were ripped to pieces. Then and only then did he stop and lean the rifle against his shoulder.
He grabbed his nearly depleted cigarette from the corner of his mouth and glanced at the newly-late Imperials. “Happy fuckin’ Valentine’s Day, motherfuckers.”
He had a fucking ball to prepare for.
ARRIVING HOME, CHRISTOPHER REALIZED HE shouldn’t have fucking stayed to watch the warehouse explode. Yet the exhilaration he got from fucking up Mystic and his crew pumped through him and he’d wanted to see them go up in fucking flames.
The Imperials were still on his hit list. That business would come tomorrow. Tonight, was for his girl.
The house was so silent, alarm raced through h
im.
“CJ,” he called.
No answer. Usually, the little motherfucker was tearing up the house.
“Rebel?”
Nothing, when his girl would be right behind CJ.
His heart starting to race, Christopher drew his nine and rushed upstairs calling his children and still not getting responses.
“What’s wrong?” Megan called from the end of the hall as he reached the third floor.
She was halfway down the hallway, haloed in a beam of sunlight, nearly dressed, except for her heels. Her red, floor-length gown clung to her curves. The off-the-shoulder lace neckline led to long, lace sleeves.
“Are you okay?” she asked, moving closer, one of her legs appearing through the long slit at the side of her gown with each step she took. Then, she stood before him, smelling like cherry blossoms and looking as gorgeous as he’d ever seen her, her golden hair swept up with ringlets hanging down. “You’re full of blood.” Her hands went under his cut, to the white, long-sleeved T-shirt he wore. “Omigod! What happened? Are you shot? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“Had some club business to take care of.”
“Oh, um, oh.”
“You ain’t got to worry ‘bout Mystic ever-fuckin-again.”
She knew what that meant. “But you’re okay?” she asked after a moment.
He nodded. “Except wonderin’ where the fuck you and the kids was.”
“The kids are with Roxy and Knox. Cam and Dr. Will are following them to the hall. CJ wants to go in whatever car Harley will be in.”
There were enough cages around to transport all the little motherfuckers safely.
Grabbing his hand, Megan tugged him toward their bedroom, then closed the door behind them.
“Let me help you undress,” she said.
His cock jumped. He hadn’t gotten in her pussy since the night before she was kidnapped. He’d wanted her to heal completely. Besides, he’d remembered the pussy lockout she’d mandated because he’d been such an assfuck, screaming at her about Johnnie after that assfuck threw it in his face.
“I can undress my own fuckin self, baby.” He’d ruin her clothes and makeup. If she put her hands on his body, when him and his cock hadn’t gotten into her in days, they were fucking. “While you finish up, too.”
“I forgot to put on my panties, Christopher,” she whispered, not releasing his hand, and looking at him through her lashes. “Are you going to make me search for them on my own?” She licked her lips. “I also might need help putting them on.”
He grinned at her. “My ass full of other motherfuckers. I got more fuckin’ DNA on me than a fuckin’ crime lab. I ain’t wantin’ to ruin all your make-up and shit.”
Sliding her dress up until she bared her pussy, she backed to the bed, turned and bent over it. Ass cheeks and cunt lips smiled at him. His nostrils flared.
“You can make love to me this way.” She wiggled her ass.
Leering at her pretty pussy, he went to her and dropped to his knees, burying his nose against her and licking her clit.
Megan groaned and backed against his face. He wanted to eat her pussy for hours, but he knew they didn’t have a lot of time, so he stood, and undid his belt and fly.
He buried his cock deep inside of her, groaning at her soft sigh. He clutched her hips and pounded into her, working off the last of his adrenaline rush from the shooting and bombing. Shattering the residual fear held over from her strangling and kidnapping.
Megan was warm and vital, inside and out. He wanted to love her, not fuck her, but they didn’t have time.
She arched her back. “Come,” she demanded.
At her words, he closed his eyes, swiveled against her pussy, the thrust into her, shooting cum into her just as her body trembled and she released a small cry.
ARRIVING AT THE HOUSE KENDALL had moved to, Johnnie rang the doorbell. It felt so odd not opening the door and walking in. She’d given him a key, but he didn’t feel as if this was their home, so he wouldn’t use it.
Kendall opened the door and his breath caught. She was a vision in a sheer floral evening gown that had a plunging neckline and thin straps. Her red hair was long and gorgeous, styled bone-straight.
“Hello, Johnnie,” she said, lowering her lashes. She stepped aside. “Would you like to come in?”
He shook his head. “We’re already running late.”
“I’ll get my wrap then.” She hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want an aperitif…” Her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat. “Or a beer?”
He smiled at her. “No, sweetheart. When I bring the kids to see you Sunday morning.”
Her face fell. “This is Friday evening.”
“Yes.” One word. Non-committal.
She plastered a smile on her face and nodded. “Give me a moment.”
That’s all she took to put on her green oversized fur coat, grab her evening bag, and lock her door.
Christopher had told him of the conversation he’d had with Kendall. What surprised Johnnie the most was the Redding and Donovan Law Firm. If Christopher could go that extra mile to save Johnnie’s marriage, then Johnnie, himself, could certainly put in the extra effort.
“Do you have a case yet?” he asked once they were on the road in his Navigator.
“Not yet. Brooks is letting Charlotte and me handle decorating the office. As soon as that’s finished, I’ll accept cases.”
As she spoke, she wrung her hands, reminding Johnnie of the nervous woman she’d been when he’d first met her. Was he doing this to her?
“I’m happy for you, Kendall. I know you’ve wanted to go back to work for months.”
“Oh Johnnie,” she whispered. “Look what it took for me to achieve it. Your trust. Maybe, our marriage. The clubhouse and my friends there,” she added, surprising him.
“I would’ve thought you were happy to be away from them.”
“I thought I would be, but I miss them so much. All Charlotte ever does is shop or go to committee meetings. I like that and I love her, but I miss…I miss the club,” she said morosely. “No matter what, I was able to be myself and…”
Tears thickened her voice. Taking her hand in his, he squeezed it.
“I’m so alone. Ella’s here. It’s not the same. My home is where you are.”
Her words lightened his mood, but he wouldn’t rush into anything. “Let’s see how you feel once you get back to work. We’ll talk then.”
“I’ll feel the same way then,” she said quietly. “Remember, right after Rory was born, and everything was good? I was working and…and we were happy.”
“I remember.”
“It won’t be any different this time,” she swore.
Only time would tell.
“How are you feeling?” She gave him a sad smile. “They did a really good job on your cheek. Now that the stitches are out, you can barely tell you were shot.”
“Those jackasses at the club have been saying now I literally have my head in my ass.”
She chuckled. “Actually, you have ass in your face,” she responded, and poked her tongue out at him.
“Not you too, gorgeous.” His special nickname slipped out of his mouth before he caught himself.
Their laughter abruptly dying, they both cleared their throats.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Um…um…I lost the…”
He sighed. “Honesty, remember? You aren’t pregnant.”
“He told you.”
“Who? Christopher?”
She nodded.
“No. You told him?”
“He figured it out,” she muttered.
“He would. I’m starting to believe he could solve the mysteries of the world.”
“Me, too.” She fell silent and then, “How’d you know I’m not pregnant?”
“Seeing used, time of mouth, stuff clued me in.”
A pretty blush crept across her skin. “I didn’t have the house cleaned before I l
eft.”
“No shit.”
“Why are you just telling me now that you know the truth?”
“The kids have been with us every other time I’ve seen you. I didn’t want to bring it up in front of them and I didn’t want to call you. I knew we’d get a chance to talk tonight.”
“I’m sorry for lying to you about the baby.”
He sidled a glance at her, squeezed her hand, then let her go. “It’s not a big deal. I’m glad you aren’t pregnant.”
“Me, too,” she said quietly. “I want to be a good mother, but three kids are overwhelming to me.” She bowed her head. “The kids seem so much happier, especially Rory.”
“The kids miss you. I might be going overboard, but I don’t have many rules in place. They only get to have one childhood. I want them to have a good one.”
“I want that for them, too.”
“I know.” Whenever he brought the kids over, it was an enjoyable family time, much more peaceful than what it had been like at home.
They acted more like a husband and wife with young children who were allowed to run, play, and make noise.
“Would you and the kids come to dinner next Wednesday?”
“We’d like nothing better,” Johnnie responded, feeling down in his soul that, this time around, Kendall had truly changed.
SO FAR, HER BALL WAS a smashing success. The room was decorated with red, pink, and white balloons, and roses. All of the food Meggie had decided on was piled high on the tables.
Johnnie and Kendall had walked through the room the entire night, talking amongst the guest, holding hands and whispering to each other. Bailey, Mortician and Digger stayed on the dance floor, and was joined by Roxy and Knox, and Zoann and Val, as well as Cash, Fee, and Stretch more often than not with a lot of the other partiers. For the most part, Bunny stayed at the table.
Phoenix Rising hadn’t been able to come, but the DJ kept the place jumping.
Meggie couldn’t have been happier. She still hadn’t regained all her strength, but she’d been looking forward to her ball, and she refused to let anything stand in her way. The full house included Boy and Derby’s clubs and their old ladies.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 452
