“You’re the dirt beneath my feet, cow,” Emily spat, recovering fast.
“And you’re the fucking dirt that I walk on, bitch,” Kendall shot back. “I came here with good intentions, but fuck that. Fuck you. Fuck off.” Grabbing her purse, she glared at Emily, slid out of her booth, and stalked away.
Two hours later, Kendall leaned against her headboard, sniffling. She pulled another tissue from the box and dabbed at her eyes and nose. She was watching Two Women, an old movie starring Sophia Loren. Her character had been close to her daughter until tragedy struck and changed them for the rest of their lives.
Just like all the different tragedies she and Johnnie had shared, most of which she caused.
Unable to watch anymore of the movie, Kendall flicked off the TV. Sad movies served as a catharsis lately. That, along with a different medicine, extensive therapy, and self-help books was easing Kendall’s way.
The combination of these things had inspired her to confront her arch-nemesis, Emily. Bitch!
Kendall should’ve slapped the fuck out of her. Emily deserved it, but she’d missed her chance so she’d let it go. Emily was out of her life for good now, therefore she’d lay that ghost to rest.
She had more important things to think about. Such as, she was actually a practicing attorney again! At first, she’d been so shocked that Outlaw relented, she’d meekly—and graciously—accepted all that he’d offered.
Then, she’d thought about it and realized the barbarian had probably been so overcome with guilt over shooting Johnnie, he was using her to atone for all of his sins.
If it got her practicing law again, so be it. Everyone thought she’d enjoy her life so much as a lawyer that she’d decide she didn’t want to be married. But she loved Johnnie and she loved her kids. She just needed to work on being a mother and a wife, and figure out how to process her love. If she still had her family—her friend, Meggie—her life would be perfect.
Well, if she could survive without medication, her life would be perfect. She hated depending on pills to shape her personality. She lost the real her in dosages and side effects. Was she the calm woman who the medicine brought out? Or the hell-on-wheels she was known to be?
She liked her edginess. She liked not knowing what her next adventure would be. And she loved making everyone prove to her that they’d love and accept her no matter what she did. Just as they’d all promised.
Johnnie’s everlasting patience and unconditional love had given her the courage to contact Emily. Yes, therapy and medicine had aided the decision. But it was thoughts of Johnnie who sealed it. It was his strength that had boosted her own. Without him, she felt so lost.
However…and it was a big however…being Johnnie’s wife meant having to deal with a few unsavory people, including that brat, CJ. Outlaw and Meggie had to know how out of hand he was. CJ needed a firm hand and manners beat into him. That thought didn’t make her unmotherly. It made her a disciplinarian. Period.
Marie, Kendall’s mother, had taken that approach and Kendall was the woman she was today because of Marie’s discipline.
Until she got her husband and children back, though, she wouldn’t concern herself with CJ Caldwell. He was little more than a speck of dirt in her pristine life.
She had to tow the line. Behave. She wanted to be in her home, in her bed with her husband, so she’d do everything in her power to better herself and get her family back.
CHAPTER SIX
Stuffing her change away and then dropping the wallet into her purse, Meggie pushed the grocery cart out of the safety of the store and rolled it into the shadows. She’d parked as close as possible to the entrance, so she didn’t have far to walk, but she had to make herself move every time she went through this routine.
This morning, she had the same nausea to deal with that had come upon her last night at their family dinner at Bunny and Digger’s house. It could’ve been something she ate, but Meggie knew her terror contributed to her upset stomach.
The guards Christopher wanted her to have was the easiest solution. She thought of the four, older men. Well, they were kind of the easiest solution. Even without experiencing their rude grumpiness from time-to-time, she didn’t want to go back to the way things had been before her kidnapping.
She liked the point in her life that she’d gotten to. Having alone time. She’d liked the trust Christopher had placed in her and her ability to look out for herself.
As long as she was at ease, he was at ease. He could effectively be Outlaw and Christopher. One of her jobs as his wife was to make sure nothing interfered with his life to upend the balance he’d created. He led two separate lives because of her, so she was determined to do her part and stand by his side in whatever way he needed her.
Her life was full but hectic. Besides her home healthcare business she had with Zoann, she had her husband to care for and their five children. CJ was the equivalent of four kids. He was so lively and inquisitive—some would say bratty. But he was her first child, whom she’d given birth to months before her nineteenth birthday. Essentially, they’d grown up together. He’d turned into an active little boy with a will as strong as his daddy’s and she’d come into her own as a wife, a mother, and a woman.
Then, of course, there was the club. She still cooked for the members at least twice a week. She didn’t serve them as much as she once had. Sometimes, she even cooked meals in her own kitchen and had one of the brothers pick it up and bring it to the club. But the Death Dwellers were her family, too. She made it a point to go to the clubhouse once a week, to mingle with the old ladies and the brothers, too. Although she wasn’t supposed to interfere, there were times when she had to put in a word or two—drop a hint or two—to Christopher on one of the guys’ behalf.
Then, there was Diesel, preparing for graduation and scouting colleges. He’d very likely win a football scholarship. However, he had his heart set on joining the club. The only way Christopher would allow it was if he got some type of degree. At times, Diesel had struggled in school and with his parents’ abandonment. He’d needed attention but a different type from her younger kids.
She couldn’t forget their ever-growing family, and their weekly get-togethers. Now, she also had Johnnie and Kendall’s children in residence. She really didn’t mind it. Rory spent more time with CJ than any of his other cousins, so having him, his sister, and brother stay with them while their parents worked on themselves was a logical choice.
Given everything, Meggie relished alone time to slow her pace.
Without her escorts, though, she was terrified of being taken again. Usually, she cowered in the shadows for twenty or thirty minutes until she worked up the courage to get to her car. It wasn’t normal. She knew that. Yet, she’d deal with it and overcome her fear in time. She had to. For her sake and Christopher’s sake.
He couldn’t be distracted from club business. Enemies popped up from everywhere and she couldn’t have him preoccupied by having every little move she made reported to him.
Anxiety was getting the best of him anyway. Worse, he was exhausting himself with his nightmares. Admitting any trauma would affect him doubly.
Now, Meggie needed to harden herself more so for Roxy and Bailey, and their upcoming wedding ceremony. She didn’t want the drama in her household to affect their special day. She’d do whatever needed doing to ease her husband’s fears and to keep the peace amongst everyone on Roxy and Bailey’s behalf.
The sound of Harley pipes reached her and she shrank back, tightening her grip on the cart. Bile rose to her throat.
Usually, she spent her time in the shadows talking herself into going to her car. Today, her worry for her husband distracted her. Either way, she never really paid attention to the people around her. She thought it was better that way. If she saw anyone who reminded her of the men who’d taken her, fear would paralyze her.
The noise grew louder and the bike drew closer. Meggie’s stomach heaved but no vomit came up.
; Her kidnapping ordeal had begun with the innocent sound of motorcycles.
Drawing in deep drafts of air, she told herself one day she’d feel normal again. She’d feel confident to take her kids out again. To her relief, Christopher had yet to note that she didn’t go anywhere alone with their kids anymore.
CJ had been in the car when she’d been taken. She’d been so frightened they’d harm him.
A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped. Her heart accelerated. Her stomach lurched.
“It’s me, baby,” Christopher said. “I was callin’ your name but your mind was wanderin’.”
She released a nervous chuckle. “I’m fine,” she claimed in a high voice, feeling anything but fine. “I was just going to the car.”
He stared at her, then glanced at her car. Folding his arms, he met her gaze, and she flushed at his knowing look.
“So, um, I’ll see you at home.”
Sighing, Christopher pulled her into his arms before she could guide the cart away, and kissed the top of her head. “Why you so fuckin’ stubborn?”
She buried her face against the leather of his cut, then shook her head. “I’m not,” she insisted in a muffled voice. She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him. He was warm and there, a towering, muscular wall of protection that she adored.
“I have to do this,” she whispered, wondering why she still felt so sick. “We have to do this.” Instead of keeping her reasons to herself, she explained them to Christopher.
“You can have me-fuckin-time in the bathroom while you takin’ a shit. I don’t come in then. Pissing, yeah.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m still doing something, Christopher.”
“Well, fuck, baby, ain’t you doin’ something when you shoppin’? Just change the shoppin’ to shittin’, then we all happy.”
“It isn’t the same,” she insisted, suddenly feeling more than a little selfish.
“You say you ain’t wantin’ your fear to affect my ass. I’m still fuckin’ worried, so stop soundin’ fuckin’ ignorant. You out here, alone, scared like a motherfucker, and I’m supposed to fuckin’ concentrate?”
“I shouldn’t have told you,” she said on a groan. “Some things are better left unspoken.”
“Since fuckin’ when?”
She shrugged.
“You ain’t even takin’ our lil’ motherfuckers nowhere by yourself.”
She gave him a sullen stare, and he grinned. He had one of the most beautiful smiles in the world. Seeing it always left her weak in the knees. His grinned deepened and he winked at her. He knew her so well.
Tipping her chin up, he stared into her eyes, his green gaze filled with concern.
“I have to do this,” she whispered. “You trusted me to look after myself.”
“Megan, you got my heart, my soul, my trust. You got my every-fuckin-thing,” he said gruffly. “But there some things you need my ass to hold you up for you to get through. This one of them. It ain’t meanin’ you weak. It just mean you human. You was kept in a fuckin’ hole, naked and starvin’, so—”
“You were taken twice,” she reminded him. “Both times, I thought I’d lost you.”
“Baby, the only thing get my ass and make me cry like a pussy is bein’ buried the fuck alive. If I ain’t had to rescue you when Snake did that shit to me, I’da just been fucked. But you, you, gave me the fuckin’ will to get the fuck outta there. You give me strength.”
“And you give me wings to fly, Christopher, so let me fly this time.”
He grabbed her face between his hands and leaned down to kiss her. “Megan, baby, you one stubborn lil’ motherfucker. Why the fuck can’t you just do this shit my way?”
“Because showing myself, showing you, that I can stand on my own two feet, is important to me.”
“Your safety important to me. I ain’t only worried about you bein’ taken a-fuckin-gain. My ass worry that you gonna start cuttin’ a-fuckin-gain.” His look turned pained. “Tell me you ain’t thought about that shit once or fuckin’ twice?”
“Maybe,” she mumbled. “But not all the time. The idea comes and go, especially after my nightmares.”
“So eatin’ your pussy after you have them ain’t keepin’ you relaxed?”
“Is my sucking your cock after your nightmares keeping you relaxed?” she sniffed.
He scowled at her. “You got my ass, baby,” he admitted grudgingly. “Maybe this gonna help. The only fuckin’ thing I ain’t trustin’ you with is Kendall. You for-fuckin-give that bitch every-fuckin-thing she do. So since I think you stupid and fucked outta your head about her, I ain’t trustin’ you to handle her ass right. Look what the fuck you made me do, when I wanted to ball her fuckin’ hands to fists, cleave them motherfuckers in two, them chop the pieces the fuck off.”
“Forgiven and forgotten,” she lied. “Why are we still on this subject? She came to the ball. CJ interacted with her. There wasn’t a problem.”
“Cuz Knox told my ass I was Kendall fuckin’ Santa. Chafed my fuckin’ nuts. I ain’t gonna forget.”
Meggie wouldn’t, either. Every time Christopher brought up Kendall’s run-in with CJ a few weeks ago, Meggie adopted placid serenity. Once again, if Christopher knew how hearing about Kendall almost punching CJ infuriated Meggie, he’d kill Kendall.
As it was, Meggie had the distinctly uneasy feeling, her husband was planning dire retribution. He wouldn’t tell her because he wanted vengeance. As usual, she’d tell him to overlook Kendall’s actions for Johnnie.
Meggie understood that the excuse was old. It also gave Kendall license to do whatever she wanted.
Meggie only hoped Christopher wasn’t planning her death and then making it look like an accident. He’d said no, when she asked him weeks ago, then changed the subject. A big, old red flag that he was indeed planning something.
Meggie had already vowed to herself if Kendall even looked at CJ wrong, she’d be sorry.
“You ready to fuckin’ go?”
She nodded, then a thought occurred to her. “What…are you going in the store?”
“No, baby,” Christopher answered irritably. “I fuckin’ came here for you.”
He knew her location because he tracked her via her telephone, her car, and her wallet.
“I’m heading home.”
“I’ma be right the fuck behind you, baby.”
“Everything is going to be fine.” As she spoke, she realized her nausea had lessened.
Christopher’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he nodded. She knew he was thinking of a way to satisfy them both.
The coming months promised to be busy. Christopher would want to fix her issues to make everything easier for her.
Hopefully, whatever method he came up with wouldn’t be needed, and she’d conquer her fear on her own.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I didn’t raise no scary bitch, Roxanne!”
Roxy winced as her mother yelled those words through the phone. It had been several days since the argument with Knox. She knew he was staying at the club because Mortician had come to pick up some clothes for him. Knox was a stubborn motherfucker, determined to have things his way.
Roxy, though, was just as stubborn. He wouldn’t make her change her mind about having a double wedding with Bailey. He could pout, stomp, and kick. She wasn’t entertaining any of it. It was too fucking selfish on his part to want to shut her daughter out.
But she missed Knox so much. In the evenings and on weekends, they did everything together. They loved each other’s company. They loved each other’s bodies.
She glanced at the ring on her finger. Cherished antique or cursed motherfucker?
The ring meant a lot to Knox, prioritizing its specialness over her than stupid fucking superstitions.
Yet, how the fuck had their relationship suddenly become so contentious? She should’ve been calling her mother to bring her up to speed on wedding plans for a ceremony that, in Roxy’s mind, was
six months away. Such a short period was cutting it close to plan the type of wedding Bailey dreamed of and Knox required. She and the girls should’ve started discussing food and alcohol and bachelorette parties and music and flowers and…everything.
Instead of going to shops with Bailey and the other women, Roxy wrote down ideas to be decided upon later. This morning, she’d almost given in and called Knox. But she feared that meant she’d be conceding to his wishes, so, instead, she’d called her mother, Pearllene.
Her response was to fuss and cuss, and accuse Roxy of allowing fear to rule her.
“I’m not afraid.” Roxy gritted the lie. Truth be told, she didn’t want another marriage to fail. “I just don’t want any man thinking he can run my life.”
The only man who hadn’t tried to turn her into something she wasn’t had been K-P. He’d accepted her for her.
“No, you don’t want to face the fact that you got a man that love you,” her momma challenged. “He love you for you. Just like Kaleb Paul did. Just because you failed at three marriages already don’t mean you’re not destined to find true love, baby. If he don’t want Bailey to have a wedding with you, so be it. It’s that motherfucker’s wedding, too. He got a right to say what he do and don’t want.”
Her lower lip trembling, Roxy swallowed. “I didn’t want a big wedding. I only agreed for Bailey’s sake.”
“You must really love Knox,” Pearllene said, not addressing Roxy’s comments. “It’s not like you to be such a pathetic, sniveling coward.”
She sniffled.
“Is that tears I hear?” Pearllene asked in outrage.
“Maybe,” Roxy answered, her cheeks flaming at her mother’s tone.
“Lawd, Jesus, girl, you’re gonna send me to my grave. If I die, you’re gonna be all alone. Your daughters got their own lives, even Bailey. And Duke, that little motherfucker, been hating on you for months.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 458
