Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

“It’s fine, Mortician,” Mr. Whittlestone answered.

  Adjusting his shirt, Mortician glanced from Knox to Johnnie. “Why Red think her crib bugged?”

  “She has it in her head Christopher is watching her,” Johnnie answered.

  “Why the fuck my ass would do that shit?” Outlaw asked, finally reacting. “Oh, yeah, psycho cunts think that fuckin’ way. I ain’t got time to fuckin’ watch that bitch.”

  Well, at least, that was the truth. Resentment filtered into Knox and he folded his arms.

  “I told Kendall the same thing,” Johnnie admitted.

  “John Boy, I don’t have the fucking time to deal with Kendall bullshit,” Val said. “You know she’s doing that to make you feel sorry for her.”

  Skepticism crossed Johnnie’s face. “She seemed truly frightened.”

  Mortician looked at Outlaw. When the man’s face remained inscrutable, the enforcer addressed Johnnie again. “Give it two or three weeks, Johnnie. If Kendall still feel that way, then I’ll drag Val to her place myself.”

  Ignoring Mortician’s words, Johnnie stared at Outlaw, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light. Then, Outlaw narrowed his, and Johnnie flushed, and looked away.

  “You still not divorcing Kendall?” Val grouched.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Johnnie admitted. “I did promise her that I’d bring Val over.”

  “Unpromise her,” Val ordered. “I’m not in the mood to do that bitch no favors.”

  “She’s still my wife!” Johnnie bit out. “She’s still family. You’re required to do for her what you’d do for the others.”

  “I’m not required to do a fucking thing for Kendall,” Val said, switching places with Mortician. “She don’t like me. She don’t like Zoann. And she never been nice to either of us. She don’t consider me family and I return the fucking favor.”

  “Can you blame her for the way she feels? Zoann has always been a bitch to her.”

  Val glared at Johnnie. “It takes a bitch to know one, Mr. Bitch.”

  “Fuck you,” Johnnie snapped.

  “Fuck all you motherfuckers,” Outlaw broke in, then knocked Val on the side of his head. “That’s for callin’ Megan a bitch.” He hit him again. “That’s for bein’ too fuckin’ stupid to fuckin’ realize your fuckin’ ass singled my woman the fuck out.” Another hit.

  Val clutched his head. “What was that for?”

  “Lagniappe,” Outlaw answered.

  “That’s Roxanne’s word,” Val complained. “You can’t steal it from her.”

  “Prez, Val right,” Mortician said. “Keep throwing licks on his head and what brains he have left will be knocked the fuck out.”

  “Do you all spend your entire lives insulting each other?” Knox demanded.

  “That’s how we show our love,” Mortician said with a grin.

  “Johnnie,” Outlaw started, “what about this Emily-chick? How you still so torn over Kendall if you runnin’ after another bitch?”

  “You all up my ass and you sniffing after new pussy, motherfucker?” Val asked, outraged.

  Johnnie snatched Rory closer to him and covered his ears with his hands. “I’m not! And I’ll thank you not to talk about another woman in front of my son.”

  Outlaw’s wince surprised Knox.

  “Sorry, John Boy,” Val said, duly chastened. “We just got carried away.”

  “Yeah, motherfucker,” Outlaw added. “I apolo-fuckin-gize. Don’t wanna upset your boy.”

  “I’ve been thinking about going nomad,” Johnnie announced into the ensuing silence. “Take Kendall and our kids and move away. She wants me to come to a session with her. After that, I’ll make my decision.”

  Shock settled into Outlaw’s features, and he swallowed. “You love her that fuckin’ much?”

  “Yes, goddamn it, Christopher!” Johnnie roared. “What the fuck don’t you understand about that? Why is it so fucking hard for you to believe that a couple other than you and Megan can share a deep, abiding love?”

  “That ain’t hard for me to be-fuckin-lieve with other fuckin’ motherfuckers. You and Kendall, though? If you two motherfuckers got a deep, abidin’ fuckin’ love than it would be a blood-fuckin-bath if there was fuckin’ hate there. You don’t know the fuckin’ meanin’ of bein’ in love and she ain’t believin’ she can be loved. So how the fuck that equal you leavin’ the fuckin’ club to make that bitch happy?”

  “You tried that before,” Mortician reminded Johnnie. “You was miserable.”

  “Were,” Knox heard himself saying. “You were miserable.”

  Mortician glared at Knox, but didn’t comment.

  “I left for Kendall to be happy. This time, I’ll leave for both of us to be happy.”

  “Think hard before you do this,” Val advised. “You’ve been so carefree since she moved away. Almost back to your old self. Kendall don’t bring out the best in you.”

  “Excuse me,” Knox cut in. “Rory is still present. How can this conversation be any better for him than the other one that was off-limits?”

  “You’re right, Knox,” Johnnie said. “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” Knox responded.

  He looked at Outlaw again, but the man seemed unaffected by it all, turning a blind eye to Johnnie’s weary sadness.

  Attempting to hold herself stiff, Roxy sat on Knox’s lap, later that night, wishing death on Mortician.

  She’d gone through the torture of the fitting, knowing it was an exercise in futility and opening another wound in her already broken heart. She’d also been on edge, worried about how the girls would act toward Kendall and, more importantly, how she’d act toward them.

  Her concern had been for nothing. Though Kendall arrived late, it had all gone smoothly. Everyone had been polite to her and she’d been on her best behavior. The fittings had turned into a party-like atmosphere where one of the girls used her phone to play music. They’d laughed and talked and danced, having nothing else to do once they were finished with their fittings. Roxy, Bailey, Harley, Bunny, Kendall, Matilda, Meggie, and Rebel had been a far cry from the eighteen men on the other side. If Jordan and her daughter had been in town, and Roxy’s mother and two daughters had flown in from New Orleans, the playing field would’ve been a little more level, even if Cam would’ve also been with the men.

  Roxy had kept up the pretense of happy bride-to-be, but she’d been so relieved when the day was coming to a close. As they were all heading to their cars, Mortician had announced they needed to meet at his house for dinner and to make sure all the plans were moving forward.

  That had been simple enough.

  Kendall had declined, although neither Outlaw nor Meggie demanded she do so. Johnnie, too, decided to cry off and returned to the club, sending his children with Meggie.

  After dinner and discussion, Knox had gotten his mother on the phone to ask about the rehearsal dinner. Everything was full-speed ahead.

  Except, of course, the sham of Roxy and Knox.

  Eventually, Roxy had stood up to leave, tired of the pretense. At that point, Mortician, motherfucker number one, had invited everyone to watch a movie. Motherfucker number two, Knox, seized upon the opportunity. Everyone knew Mortician’s home theater was notoriously small. The huge screen made it seem even more cramped.

  Feeling cornered, Roxy grudgingly agreed. In the room, Mortician, Digger, Val, and Outlaw pulled their wives onto their laps. At one time, Roxy enjoyed these movie nights. Not now, when Knox felt so strong and hard underneath her. His five o-clock shadow gave him a rakish air, and the whisky he was drinking reminded her of all the times they’d kissed after a night out.

  She was on his lap. It would’ve been so easy to fall back into his arms, and pretend their argument had never happened.

  Knox’s fingers played at her nape and she shivered. He leaned forward. “You know, sweetheart, if you’re trying to save my life, you’re not acting too convincing. You’re sitting as far away from me as possible.”
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br />   He was right. It surprised her that Mortician or Outlaw hadn’t commented on how she leaned away.

  Scooting backward, her ass brushed against his semi-hard cock. She regretted that they both wore pants.

  Uh, no. She was happy they both wore pants. No chance of dick-to-pussy contact.

  She settled her back against his chest, her muscles stretched taut.

  He brushed his lips behind her ear, thrusting up, taking advantage of everyone’s attention being focused on the movie.

  “Can we meet later?”

  The husky tone of his voice lulled her to say yes. She elbowed him. “Fuck you,” she whispered.

  “Would you?” he shot back.

  “Not a goddamn chance.”

  “I want you, Roxanne. Can’t you feel how hard my cock is for you?”

  “My pussy is wet for you, Knox. I miss you, but this is the way things are and will continue to be.”

  “Suppose I change? Suppose I learn to ride? Get a tattoo.”

  For a moment, she stilled, knowing if he’d go that far to win her back, she’d be powerless to deny him the second chance he so desperately wanted. “Don’t,” she warned. “You’ll come to regret it and resent me.”

  “No, sweetheart, I wouldn’t. I’ve scheduled sessions with Gabe, Bunny’s brother. I’m getting a tattoo. I love you. If I want to be a part of your world, I have to fit in.”

  “Don’t do that,” she said, her voice, her feelings, wavering. “It isn’t about aesthetics. It’s about attitude. It’s about your perception and your refusal to understand that these boys aren’t bad people. I’m not a bad person. Crass? Rough-around-edges? Y-yes.” Her voice wavered. She stood. “I’m exhausted,” she said, not lying. “This has been a long day.”

  “For me, too,” Knox admitted, sliding to the edge of the theater-style seat. “I’m not getting a tattoo solely to impress you. I swear.”

  “Why are you getting it then?”

  “Uh…” His voice trailed off.

  When he said nothing more, Roxy sighed. “Exactly, sugar. Don’t get ink, Knox. It’s just a temporary fix to a much deeper problem.” She started off, then decided to turn and kiss Knox’s cheek.

  The gesture wasn’t for show. Purely selfish reasons guided her. Caressing his jaw, she turned on her heel and walked out, noting no one tried to stop her.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Surprised at the dilapidation before her, Emily looked at the ratty exterior of a biker bar in dire need of repairs. In her wildest dreams, she wouldn’t have ever expected Johnnie to take her to such a rundown place. They could’ve stayed in her neighborhood. Just last night, she’d seen two low-level dealers get into an argument, with one shooting the other one in the head, right out in the open. That type of lawlessness abounded in areas plagued with dereliction.

  Like this neighborhood.

  The Johnnie Outlaw had described would offer Emily a taste of her old lifestyle. This Johnnie would keep her mired right where she was.

  She turned to him, snuggling close. As usual, he went rigid. Undeterred, she laid her head against his chest. “I’m all dressed up,” she pouted.

  “And?” He wasn’t stepping away from her, but he wasn’t returning her affection either.

  “My clothes will be wasted in a place like this.”

  He gave her a disapproving look. “This is one of my favorite bars.”

  Suspicion crept into her. “Really?” she asked, determined to get the upper hand. Perhaps, she’d just found the key. Her face falling, she cleared her throat and then made her lips tremble. “Oh,” she said in a small voice. “This is a favorite for you and Kendall.”

  He scowled at her. “No. It’s a favorite of mine. Kendall never liked this place.”

  Damn it! She’d miscalculated. Thinking fast, she pasted a bright smile on her face. “Oh my goodness!” she gushed. “You’re sharing a special spot with me.”

  More like testing her, but she didn’t think that would be good to point out.

  If the exterior was so rough, what was it like inside?

  Dressed as she was, she would stand out. She wore a tight red designer bandage dress with Louboutins on her feet, both gifts from Outlaw by using his money to make the purchases.

  For makeup, she did a smoky eye and red lips, her dramatic look tools of seduction. Her blonde hair was styled in a slick ponytail. That way, Johnnie could see her face.

  Since the scene in her apartment, he’d been quite the gentleman toward her. He hadn’t tried to steal a kiss or cop a feel. She’d pretended to listen while he droned on about his life and his woes and his brats. Honestly, if she’d been offered a million dollars, she wouldn’t be able to repeat a single thing he said. She just knew where to insert her ‘awws’, ‘sorrys’, and ‘it’ll be okays’, so he’d believe she hung onto his every word.

  Now, they were on a date at his favorite place. She’d managed to rope him in, a new luxurious life within reach. It had to happen.

  It would happen.

  Emily grabbed Johnnie’s hand. “Shall we go in, Mr. Donovan?” she flirted, cooing the words.

  He smiled, though his eyes were red-rimmed and tired. “Of course.”

  Pulling his hand away, he placed it at the small of Emily’s back, then guided her past a row of bikes and into the establishment. The place smelled of stale smoke and spilled alcohol. It was small and crowded with tables, chairs, and an oversized bar.

  “John Boy,” a gravelly voice called.

  Emily didn’t see the owner of the voice, lost in a sea of faces and sounds.

  Johnnie waved, receiving several in return.

  She shimmied her hips as he led her through the maze of tables to the back of the place. She ignored the stares and hoots from horny bikers. While most women would be ashamed of this kind of attention, she loved it. She was a beautiful woman. Catcalls and stares came with the territory. Besides, the extra male attention validated her looks.

  “Who greeted you when we walked in?” Emily asked as Johnnie held out her chair and allowed her to sit. “Or do you know?” she added as he sat in his own chair.

  He shook his head. “It sounded like Marion, but I’m not sure.”

  “Interesting name for a biker.”

  He shrugged.

  She clucked with sympathy, reached over and placed her hand against his forearm. “Have you started divorce proceedings yet?”

  His muscles tensed underneath her fingertips.

  “No.” He sounded pathetic.

  Emily slumped her shoulders and moved her hand away from his arm. “You’re just stringing me along then? Once you get into my panties, you’re leaving?”

  “Emily, don’t press me on a relationship. I’m still a married man. If you can’t deal with that, then leave.”

  Annoyance flashed through her, but she breathed in deep and covered her aggravation with a smile. “I feel such a strong connection to you. I won’t leave until you send me away.” She sniffled. “You’ll tear my heart to pieces but I’m a big girl. I’ll deal with it.”

  “I don’t know…do I want you because I’m lonely or because I’m truly attracted to you?”

  To stop her glare, Emily bit her lip.

  Anger and humiliation vied for a place within her. Johnnie still held feelings for her old rival. Not that it was a competition. Emily was above Kendall in almost every way, except looks. For the life of her, Emily couldn’t understand why Johnnie still had feelings for the whore.

  A frown marred his face. “What am I doing here?” he asked more to himself than to her.

  She looked at him through her lashes. “Getting to know me. I’m here for you. Can we please talk over whatever is bothering you? Have a drink or two to unwind?”

  He sighed but nodded his agreement.

  A smile spread over her face. Men had always given her what she wanted. “Thank you.”

  A few more corny words, and he’d be ready to fall at her feet.

  Johnnie stared at Emily,
wondering why he’d invited her out. He was trying his damnedest to get into her and forget her past with Kendall, and give her the second chance he told himself she deserved. If Emily could bring him happiness, why not have a relationship with her?

  Except she seemed like a phony. He wasn’t sure why he felt as he did. Maybe…maybe, because of her looks. Or, maybe, he kept replaying the scene at Kendall’s house in his head. She hadn’t invited him to a session yet. On the other hand, he hadn’t called her to check on her. His actions had to show her how fed up he was.

  Even if Kendall stayed uppermost in his thoughts.

  He and Emily were now on their third round of drinks, and Emily was gushing over something he didn’t care about. She constantly touched him and leaned over to bring attention to her tits, already on prominent display. She was trying hard to seduce him.

  Once upon a time, he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to date, or just fuck, Megan’s doppelganger. Now, however, he felt no desire toward Emily or Megan. The only woman he truly wanted was Kendall. But between his wife’s infatuation with Christopher, her jealously of Megan, and numerous schemes, their relationship was on its last thread. If only Kendall could realize that she was the only woman he wanted.

  Johnnie was so miserable without her. He would give anything for their marriage to work.

  “Johnnie, are you listening?” Emily’s question broke into his thoughts, a frown marring her pretty face.

  “Yes, of course,” he lied.

  She sighed and leaned back. When she crossed her legs, his attention strayed to them. “Kiss me,” she said.

  Johnnie brought his gaze to hers. The depths of her blue eyes gleamed. Before he turned her down, she stood.

  There was a small space between his chair and the table that she managed to insert herself into before sliding onto his lap and straddling his thighs.

  She rocked against his cock. “I don’t have any panties on,” she whispered.

  Johnnie groaned, his dick hardening.

  Planting her mouth over his, she took his face between her hands and tapped the tip of her tongue against his lips. Johnnie opened and allowed her onslaught, returning her kiss, trying to drum up some emotion. He could fuck her then and there, but he was so passed easy lays. His marriage had ruined him for that. He wanted something meaningful. He wanted to matter.