Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  His dick jumped and she moved away, refusing to acknowledge any desire. She jammed the ring back on her finger just as the guys reached them.

  “You awake, motherfucker,” Mortician chortled.

  “Lucas, what are you doing?” Bailey demanded.

  Mortician hesitated. “What you mean, pretty girl?”

  Bailey placed her hands on her hips. “You were going to kill Knox. That’s what I mean.”

  Later, Roxy would explore why her crushing heartache had lifted the moment she slid the ring back on her finger. For now, her sense was returning and she realized the boys needed to be dealt with.

  “What the fuck were you five thinking?” she demanded, glaring between Mortician and Outlaw. Those two motherfuckers were the ringleaders. “You always fucking talk about family, well, Knox is fucking family, motherfuckers. You don’t fucking kill family! That would devastate me.”

  “If you ain’t with the motherfucker, then the motherfucker ain’t family,” Outlaw imparted. “Especially if you ain’t with him cuz he fuckin’ hurt you in any-fuckin-way.”

  “Better you bastards hurt me, than him, right, Outlaw?” she demanded.

  “Roxanne,” Mortician huffed, “we fuck him up, you just got to go through one, big hurt. We let him live and you might have to go through the shit over and over again.”

  The logic of that statement, and her understanding of it, was frightening. To them, he’d broken her heart, then apologized and she took him back. Perhaps, to hurt her again.

  “Look, baby, I appreciate you wanting to save me a lifetime of heartache and just get it over with in one, fell swoop. While that might seem good to you, it isn’t to me. I would blame myself for the rest of my life if you killed him.”

  “Wouldn’t be your fucking fault, Roxanne,” Digger said. “It would be his fucking fault for being such a uppity-impressed-with-himself motherfucker.”

  Roxy held her left hand up and wiggled her ring finger. “This makes him our family, boys.”

  “That do.” Mortician acknowledged the ring with a nod. “But you wasn’t fucking wearing it earlier.”

  “He pissed me off.” The dismissive words helped her nonchalance sound believable. She slid the ring off and held up her hand again. “He’s still our family. That means he has immunity from your death squad.”

  “That don’t mean shit,” Val put in.

  “Val, if I were you, I’d shut the fuck up and stay the fuck out of this,” Zoann warned.

  Bailey folded her arms as Val scowled but backed away. “Lucas, if you hurt Knox, you hurt Mama. In turn, that hurts me. Back off of Knox.”

  “That’s my woman,” Knox slurred, drawing unneeded attention.

  Clenching his jaw, Mortician balled his hands into fists at his side, but glanced away and nodded at his wife. “Fuck, fine, Bailey. Motherfucker get to live as long as he family.”

  “Come fuckin’ on, Megan.” Outlaw swigged from the bottle. “Say what the fuck you gotta say, baby.”

  Meggie and CJ exchanged glances. Roxy knew Meggie wouldn’t repeat Knox’s words to Outlaw, but CJ? He loved to spill the beans.

  “Baby?” Outlaw cocked his head to the side. “You ain’t a pissed lil’ motherfucker at my ass?”

  Meggie gazed at Roxy, then smiled at Outlaw. “Christopher, Knox is part of Roxy’s family and Roxy is our family. As long as she wants him to stay alive, he stays alive.” She glared at the back of Knox’s head. “And, no, I’m not angry at you.” Without another word, she grabbed CJ’s hand and walked away.

  Outlaw contemplated Meggie as she opened the gate and guided CJ onto their property.

  “Our fuckin’ hands tied.” Outlaw stared at the vintage engagement ring Roxy still held in her hand. The one that seemed to have let all the evil into her relationship. Damn, she really wasn’t a superstitious bitch, but this was some complete bullshit. Until she put the motherfucker on her finger, she and Knox had had a wonderful relationship.

  The moment he’d slid this fucking thing on, chaos had entered their lives. This. Was. BULLSHIT!

  She almost wanted to throw it away…oh, hell no. Maybe, melt the motherfucker down? No, that was some black magic alchemy shit. She could sell it or return it to Knox’s father. By right, it really wasn’t hers anymore.

  “Havin’ second fuckin’ thoughts?”

  She gritted her teeth at Outlaw’s question and slid the ring back on. Bad luck or not, she had to wear the ring for the time being.

  Once the situation settled, she’d give it back to Knox.

  “Roxanne, whether Knox fuckin’ Harrington live or die now completely in your fuckin’ hands.”

  Outlaw swept Knox with a cold look, then followed the path Meggie had taken, soon disappearing from view, unconcerned with the weight of responsibility his words held.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  His head pounding as if Thor’s hammer beat upon his skull, the scent of Roxanne’s perfume surrounding him, Knox flopped onto his back and groaned. His stomach churned like an angry sea. As a matter of fact, his entire body hurt, as if he’d been slammed against concrete countless times.

  He groaned again. What happened to him? The last vague memory he had was leaving the office and stopping at a bar. But…

  He lifted his head. The room spun, so he rectified his mistake and laid it back onto the pillow.

  But as he’d started to say…he was in his room at the club.

  How had he gotten there? Certainly, he hadn’t driven in his condition. Had he?

  Had he called Roxanne and she’d acted as his sober driver? No matter how much she hated him, she didn’t want harm to befall him. She’d kept a friendly pretense for days on his behalf.

  Roxanne.

  When he’d tried to sit up, he hadn’t noticed her, but he smelled her. Notes of flowers with an undertone of citrus.

  “Roxanne,” he called, her presence surrounding him. He received no answer. His imagination played tricks on him again.

  Sighing, he patted his pocket, unsurprised to find himself still fully clothed. Feeling nothing in the left pocket, he frowned. Before full panic set in, he repeated his pat-down on his right side. Nothing!

  Jesus! Roxanne’s ring!

  Attempting to sit up again, he gave into the god of hangovers and plopped backwards.

  “Oh, Jesus. God,” he begged, turning onto his side. “Forgive me. I swear I’ll never drink again. Or…or…Just fucking kill me now.” What had he drank?

  Before he could try to remember, his door slammed opened. The noise sent tears to his eyes and vomit twisting in his stomach, like a strange brew waiting to gush out.

  “’Law!” CJ yelled. “Uncle Mudna Fucka awake.”

  “Get out,” Knox tried to demand, afraid to raise his voice above a whisper. He didn’t even care that the kid had cussed him.

  CJ banged on the door. Or kicked it. Or threw his miserable little body against it as a special form of torture.

  “Him up,” CJ said. “Him groaned. I been sitting outside his door just like you told me, ‘Law.”

  Outlaw walked into Knox’s line of vision and smirked.

  “Outlaw, please—” Knox began feebly.

  “Boy, Uncle Motherfucker ain’t wake e-fuckin-nuff. Come jump on his fuckin’ stomach like you do to wake my ass up.”

  “’Kay, ‘Law,” CJ said without hesitation.

  “Please,” Knox mumbled.

  Neither of them heard. Or they pretended not to hear. CJ climbed onto Knox’s bed then bounced onto Knox’s stomach.

  Once…twice…Knox could hold back no longer. He twisted toward the floor, vaguely hearing CJ yell in fear, and released all the vomit created since the beginning of time.

  “You done good, boy,” Outlaw said. “Go fuckin’ wait for my ass at the fuckin’ table.”

  “’Kay, ‘Law,” CJ squealed, apparently just fine.

  Finished with throwing up and thanking the heavens that his guts remained inside of him, Knox sprawled out on the b
ed, flat on his back. “Godddd,” he begged. “Where are you? Is this the reason for my miserable existence? Please strike alcohol out of existence. Turn it into a pillar of salt. Let a whale swallow it. Throw it into the lion’s den…”

  “Knox, shut the fuck up. The fuck you askin’ for that shit? Daniel got the fuck out the lion’s den and the whale spit Jonah the fuck up. About the only one outta the three ain’t survive was Lot wife. Ain’t comin’ the fuck back from just crumblin’ the fuck up.”

  “Have I gone to another dimension?” That would explain the devastating hangover and also how in the hell Outlaw knew about biblical characters. “I didn’t think you knew how to spell church. Yet here you are shocking me with your knowledge of…your knowledge.”

  The door slammed shut, and Knox moaned, Thor’s hammer knocking the fuck out of him again. He had begun to feel better, after he’d thrown up.

  Daddy Thug and Baby Thug were gone now, so he could rest and…A chair scraped across the floor. There was rustling. The sound of a lighter flicking. An exhalation of breath.

  “What do you want?” Knox demanded, remembering he’d lost Roxanne’s engagement ring and annoyed that Outlaw lingered. “Why are you here?”

  “My ass here cuz I fuckin’ wanna be.”

  “The scent of vomit should run you away.” If Knox focused on it, he’d vomit again. What kind of irresponsible jerk was he?

  “I ain’t a weak, bitch-ass motherfucker, motherfucker. Seein’ a motherfucker hurl or smellin’ it after, ain’t ever bother me.”

  Knox grunted.

  “My ass also not a fuckin’ stupid motherfucker.”

  “I reserve the right to withhold my opinion.”

  “And my ass reserve the fuckin’ right to shoot the fuck outta you.”

  “Would you get to the point so I can die in peace?”

  “A night of fuckin’ drinkin’ ain’t gonna kill you. If your ass had alcoholic poisonin’, we probably woulda seen some fuckin’ signs by now.”

  “Okay. Leave me alone so I can pray to die and be put out of my misery.”

  “All you gotta do is ask my fuckin’ass to fuck you up.”

  “What do you want, Outlaw?” Knox demanded.

  “You helpin’ me get Kendall outta Johnnie life. The gun deal you brought to me seem to be fuckin’ on the up-and-fuckin-up. But you fuck over Roxanne, and you fuckin’ forfeit your fuckin’ life. I ain’t needin’ your ass no more for Amfinger and I just gotta deal with Kendall longer ‘til I find some-fuckin-body else to do what the fuck I need did if I gotta fuck you up.”

  “She broke up with me.” At some point, Roxanne had text him. A month ago…?...A week?...Today…yesterday…when…? She’d told him to say she ended the engagement.

  “In-fuckin-deed,” Outlaw agreed. “It’s the fuckin’ reason she broke up with your fuckin’ ass.”

  “What are you talking about?” Knox hedged, his brain betraying him for once. A reasonable explanation escaped him.

  “I wantcha to sober your fuckin’ ass up and get the fuck gone. Your ass don’t fuckin’ belong round us. Go to your fuckin’ family e-fuckin-state. You ain’t fuckin’ welcome here no more.”

  The words hit Knox like bricks. “No!” He struggled to sit up and swayed when he did so. The room spun and bile churned in his gut. He didn’t care. He had to make Outlaw understand. The situation was too important for Knox to give into his drunken ailments. He met the club president’s unyielding gaze. “This is where I belong, Outlaw. I love her. This is my home because it is hers.” Why hadn’t he realized that before he’d blown up?

  “Fuckin’ fine time for your ass to figure that shit out, assfuck,” Outlaw grumbled, as if he’d read Knox’s mind.

  “Tell me what to do,” he begged.

  “Tell me what you done,” Outlaw countered.

  Knox looked away, his voice, his words to her, echoing in his head. He couldn’t bring himself to repeat them. Not only because Outlaw would execute him, but because they shamed him so much.

  “You almost fuckin’ died to-fuckin-day. About three, four hours ago. You fuckin’ went to Roxanne, drunker than a motherfucker, while Mort was there.” Outlaw dragged on his cigarette. “Your woman saved your fuckin’ ass.”

  “She’s not my—”

  “If I was you, I’d shut the fuck up, cuz accordin’ to her, you and her just had a fuckin’ argument. She even took her fuckin’ ring back and wearin’ it a-fuckin-gain.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Knox sagged in relief. The ring was safe. More important, she was his again.

  Throwing the cigarette onto the concrete floor, Outlaw stomped it beneath his motorcycle boot. “Ain’t no time for fuckin’ rejoicin’, fuckhead. You want her the fuck back, you gotta lotta fuckin’ work to do.”

  “You just said—”

  “Knox, how you got to be a fuckin’ badge? You one motherfucker that miss the fuck outta clues.”

  “I take umbrage to that!”

  “Re-fuckin-mind me when I told your ass I fuckin’ gave a fuck what the fuck you ain’t likin’? You a stupid, clueless motherfucker. Case fuckin’ closed. Bet your docket went with the most un-fuckin-solved cases. Whatever fuckin’ unit you was in.”

  “That isn’t true!”

  “What-the-fuck ever. Any-fuckin-way, lemme say this shit a-fuckin-gain: Your ass almost fuckin’ died to-fuckin-day.”

  “I heard you the first time.”

  “You musta ain’t. Other-fuckin-wise, you woulda fuckin’ realized that mighta had some-fuckin-thing to do with Roxanne puttin’ your ring back on her finger.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Under-fuckin-stand,” Outlaw interrupted, and folded his arms. “You look clueless like a motherfucker, so you ain’t gotta waste your fuckin’ alcoholic breath sayin’ you don’t know what the fuck I mean.”

  Knox squinted at Outlaw.

  “In case you ain’t realize? Your ring on her finger? Give you fuckin’ immunity. That fuckin’ ring make you our fuckin’ family, and we ain’t killin’ family fuckin’ members un-fuckin-less Megan fucked with.”

  As was the case with Kendall, who’d been removed from Outlaw’s No-Kill list.

  “So lemme spell this shit out for your fuckin’ ass. As long as you ‘round us, Roxanne gonna have that fuckin’ ring on. From the little I fuckin’ got, your ass don’t fuckin’ deserve to fuckin’ still be breathin’.” He shrugged. “But she fuckin’ love you, and you ain’t fuckin’ hesi-fuckin-tate when you say you belong where she at. You probably love her ass, too.”

  “Take the probably out of it.”

  “Knox, lemme clue you the fuck in. A-fuckin-gain. I was comin’ to make peace with your ass. Mostly ig-fuckin-norin’ your lil’ jabs and shit. But let’s just put it the fuck out there: we ain’t likin’ each other.”

  “That’s not true!”

  Dropping his folded arms, Outlaw leaned forward. “Ain’t respectin’ a motherfucker who not man e-fuckin-nuff to live in his own fuckin’ truth.”

  “What do you want me to say? Roxanne sees you as one of her sons. If I don’t like you or Mortician or any of you, my relationship with her is doomed.”

  “You ain’t got a fuckin’ relationship with her,” Outlaw snapped.

  “You just said…”

  Outlaw’s look of disgust offended Knox. “Listen up, motherfucker,” Outlaw bit out, standing. “If you fuckin’ feel that way, then your ass better fuckin’ find a way to reconcile how the fuck you feel about us.”

  “I see you’re not disputing my assumptions.”

  “Mortician her son-in-law, Harrington. Bailey love the motherfucker. When you call his ass a piece of garbage, then, in essence, you callin’ Bailey the same. By extension, you pinnin’ that title on Roxanne, too.”

  “I don’t mean too,” Knox said with sincere regret. “I just…to me you’re criminals. I don’t deal with your type of people.”

  “Oh, yeah, cuz you ain’t got a motherfuckin’ uncle named Avalon, who was embezz
lin’ from my fuckin’ club and tried to kill Roxanne. You fuckin’ disowned his ass, like your fuckin’ kind do, so him and his bullshit tucked away in some fuckin’ coffin.”

  If it hadn’t been for Avalon he never would’ve met Roxanne.

  “Roxanne fuckin’ love you,” Outlaw said as he headed for the door. “Whether or fuckin’ not she truly fuckin’ forgive you in your fuckin’ hands, motherfucker.”

  “Outlaw, wait.” Knox stopped the man just before he opened the door. “I need your help.” He do anything to win Roxanne back. “Tell me what to do. How can I get her to forgive me?”

  “Come off your high fuckin’ horses and respect who the fuck she is, where the fuck she came from, and how im-fuckin-portant this club is to her.”

  “I do…I understand.” Desperation crept into him. “Everything you said. I love her.”

  “Love ain’t e-fuckin-nuff, Knox,” Outlaw informed him. “It’s up to your fuckin’ ass to figure what the fuck else required. I can fuckin’ coach you all-fuckin-day, but if you ain’t really fuckin’ understandin’ then the shit gonna fall apart any-fuckin-way.”

  Turning, Outlaw walked out the room, slamming the door behind him.

  The sound reverberated through Knox’s head. Falling back against the pillows, he moaned, but, for the first time since he’d been such a stupid jackass, he felt something other than despair.

  Hope.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  “How’s Mr. Mortician?” Viola, Dr. Will’s long-time nurse, asked. The older woman had always been kind and helpful to Meggie, and she really appreciated her.

  “He’s fine,” Meggie answered. “Doing his usual.”

  Viola nodded. “That’s good. And Mr. Outlaw?”

  “He’s better now.” Meggie explained about his vasectomy reversal.

  “I always knew you two would end up with another one. That man loves to see you with his baby inside of you.”

  “He does,” Meggie said, smiling with tenderness.

  It was the morning after Knox’s near-murder. Christopher was busy at the club on conference calls with Riley, the club’s PI, discussing a run he and Mortician would leave for tomorrow.