Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books, page 277
Then, again, according to Kendall, if he got a taste he’d want the full meal. Her very reasoning for not allowing him to toast at the Halloween party.
She’d rewarded his easy compliance with a dick suck and very raunchy sex, appeasing his disappointment at leaving the party early.
“Roxy has Rory again,” Kendall said from behind him.
Grinning at her sultry tone, he turned to her, her beauty hitting him in the center of his chest as always. He’d abandoned his suit the moment he’d gotten home, but she still wore her office attire—a finely cut winter white suit that showcased her height and figure. She’d swept her red hair up, allowing strands to escape and frame her lovely face.
“I have your aperitif,” she announced.
Johnnie offered a chagrined smile. “St. Germain’s again?” Shit. Elderberry liqueur.
She nodded. “I can’t wait until I deliver Matilda, so I can join you.”
“You know, gorgeous, I’d really love a cold beer.” Something she’d stopped stocking months ago, right around the time she stopped her meds. “Just one.”
Her face fell. “I don’t like beer.”
“I’m not asking you to drink it.”
Folding her arms, she sniffed. “You can take the man out of the club…” She trailed her voice off, leaving him to silently add, but not the club out of the man.
“Don’t start. I’m not out of the goddamn club. I don’t want to be. It’s where I belong. Where we both belong.”
Tears rushed to her eyes and she sniffled, turning on her heel. “I have dinner,” she tossed over her shoulder, switching tactics on him. She knew her tears upset him. Being pregnant kept her waterworks in overdrive.
Ever since the argument he’d had with the boys earlier today at the law office, he’d been out-of-sorts. He shouldn’t allow them to affect his thinking, but they did. Mainly, because they were right. No fucking reason he had to live in this misery. Kendall could take her antidepressants. She just chose not to, which, in turn, made her miserable. She didn’t want to be the way she was, but the side effects were so great she’d used the first opportunity available to her to thumb her nose at the pills.
Closing the garage door, he debated calling Megan for advice, then quickly nixed that idea. Kendall would have a shit-fit. Besides, Megan hadn’t spoken to him since Christopher’s stabbing when Johnnie had yelled at her one time too many. He sincerely regretted his behavior. However, that had been the only way he could think of to get her out of the way so they’d move Christopher.
But she was one of the few people who could actually reach Kendall. One of the few people who overlooked all of Kendall’s faults, to the woman beneath the hurt and insecurity.
Unfortunately, at this point, shooting down one of Kendall’s decisions with Megan’s help would do greater harm than good.
Inside the dining room, Kendall sat in her usual spot at one end of the table. He rubbed the back of his neck. Not wanting to have a long fucking table between them, he snatched up his place-setting and moved it to his wife’s end, arranging everything to her right. Once he seated himself, he leaned over and thumbed away her tears, his heart breaking for her.
“You love me. Don’t you?” he added when she remained silent.
“Very much.”
“Then get back on your medicine. Don’t wait until Matilda is born. Call your doctor and start now.”
“I’m not me when I take them.”
“You are,” he insisted. “You’re just an altered version of yourself.”
“I don’t feel the same.”
“Ask for a change of meds. A lower dose. Something,” he said with desperation. “Neither of us can continue on like this.”
Her eyes widened before she dissolved into loud, gut-wrenching sobs.
Jumping from his seat, Johnnie rushed to her and knelt down, gathering her into his arms. “I didn’t mean I’d leave you or send you away.” Fuck, what did he mean? Because what, besides medication or separation, was the alternative? He threaded his fingers through her hair. “We’re in this together, gorgeous. ‘Til death do us part.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly before pulling away and grabbing her cloth napkin to dab at her eyes and nose. “I always swore I’d never, ever be dependent on you like Meggie is with Outlaw.”
“Kendall, please leave Megan out of this. She has absolutely no bearing on our marriage.”
“As long as I take those nasty pills, I’m not me. I can’t focus to do discoveries or briefings or mediation or anything. I’m not me. I can’t win cases. Don’t you understand? My career is the only thing that gives me my own identity. A semblance of me.”
“You don’t think Megan has her own identity?” he snapped. “She does. She’s a co-partner in the home-healthcare business with Zoann. She does all the office work. Christopher didn’t make her do that. She chose to do it. But even if she was just his wife and the mother of his kids, that would be her goddamn identity. What’s so fucking hard to understand about that? You’re not Megan. You’re not better or worse than she is. You’re not above or below her. You’re you, Kendall. My wife. My children’s mother. The woman I love with everything in me. Attorney or housewife, you will still be you. Witty, educated, cultured, and unrepentant.”
“How do you see Meggie?” she whispered, everything else he’d said flying over her head but how he felt about Megan.
He absolutely couldn’t win where Christopher’s wife was concerned.
No one seemed to give a fuck that Megan had stopped talking to him. No one but him, that was. On the other hand, Kendall was over the fucking moon with satisfaction at the turn of events.
It didn’t matter how much he missed Megan as a friend. Nor did it matter that, to appease Kendall, he kept as much distance as possible when they had been on speaking terms. The only way he knew how to show Kendall she was the only woman for him was to be a jackass to Megan. He’d expected Megan to always automatically forgive him. This time, he’d miscalculated and lost her completely.
To compound matters, Kendall made a concerted effort to break his bond with Christopher. Yes, the man was a fucking dick to her, but, at times, she provoked him past his point of tolerance.
When Kendall allowed herself to get the help she needed, she understood all the dynamics. She wasn’t lost in unreasonableness.
“Does it matter how I see Christopher’s wife? She belongs to him and she hates my fucking guts.”
“Because she’s a spoiled little bitch.”
Fuck. “So are you,” he gritted before he stopped himself.
Gasping, she froze for the briefest moment before anger settled into her brown eyes and she slapped his face. She shot to her feet, toppling him over in her bid to escape.
Instead of allowing her freedom, Johnnie caught her hand and pulled her back to him.
“Let go of me,” she demanded as he stood. “You called me a bitch and I won’t stand for that.”
Not listening to her, he skimmed his lips over hers. “I didn’t call you any such thing.”
“You implied it and that’s just as bad.”
“You called Megan a bitch,” he said as gently as possible, tensing at the flare of anger in her eyes.
“And you’re defending her!”
“I love you,” he said, ending this no-win argument. “But Kendall, gorgeous, you have been acting like a spoiled bitch. This is a part of who you are, but a part of who I am is being your husband. It’s my job to point out when you’re behaving badly. For months, you’ve been acting horribly. You fired Leann, for fuck’s sake.”
“She was flirting with you.”
“She was being friendly to her boss’s husband. That’s it. You had no basis to let her go. You’re opening yourself up to a lawsuit.”
“I overheard her in the bathroom several days after the recital,” she sobbed, clinging to his dress shirt. “She was on the phone. I don’t know who she was talking to but she said the next time I went on a business trip, she’d make her move on you.”
He felt marginally better that she hadn’t arbitrarily released Leann because she was a petite blonde. She still had no real basis to fire the girl, other than her insecurities and jealousy.
“I’m so heavy with the baby and…and…and too tired to make love to you on a regular basis.”
“Sweetheart,” he crooned, caressing her cheek. “You’re the only woman for me. She could’ve strutted nude in front of me and it wouldn’t have mattered. I. Love. You.”
Instead of appeasing her, she cried harder. “Charlotte’s so angry with me.”
“I’ll talk to Brooks. Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”
“That’s his niece by marriage,” she said in a small voice. “I couldn’t force him to choose her side or mine.”
Hugging her, he smiled into her hair, loving the silkiness of it. His wife was misunderstood and underestimated, but that only endeared her to him more.
“Brooks is in trouble,” she said in a high voice, changing the subject and returning to her seat.
“What do you mean?” Johnnie asked once he’d sat back at the table, too.
“The arms deal. Brooks. He’s going to get killed if Outlaw doesn’t accept.”
He choked on the St. Germain. “What?”
“Brooks thought Outlaw would accept McCallister’s deal. The money has already been transferred to the law firm on the club’s behalf.”
“What?” he yelled, not quite believing her words. “How the fuck…” Staring at his wife, he sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. “Kendall, gorgeous, please tell me you didn’t take it upon yourself to answer for Christopher.”
“Will you be angry?”
“Fucking furious,” he snarled, her response all the answer he needed. “Christopher will fucking kill you, me, and Brooks, and this time he’d be perfectly fucking justified. What the fuck were you thinking? No, excuse me, you were not thinking. What the fuck is wrong with you, Kendall? You’ve just gotten us fucking put to ground.”
Kendall shivered at Johnnie’s fear and anger, as well as the prospect of Outlaw murdering them. Because he would. The asshole had no conscience. He’d kill his own brother and pregnant sister-in-law in cold blood. How had she underestimated both McCallister and Outlaw? Though she’d assured Brooks that Outlaw would be agreeable, she’d also believed McCallister would allow someone else to deliver the merchandise.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Johnnie roared after she explained her logic to him. “This is club business. You stay the fuck out of it no matter what the fuck you think.”
“I’m so sorry, Johnnie,” she wailed, his words hurting her.
As an attorney at the law firm representing the club, she had every right to know as much as Brooks. In her mind, that right gave her the same legal authority. As the VP’s wife, however, she had an added advantage. More than any of the other club women.
After the run-in at the Halloween party, she’d searched for a way to get on Outlaw’s good side. Once she’d heard about the arms deal and the money that could be made for the club, she knew she’d found the solution.
It was much better than some paltry few hundred thousand dollars Meggie had so generously doled out to everyone from some stupid house that Outlaw had gotten rid of simply because his poor wife couldn’t deal with it.
This arms deal was a money maker.
“Brooks said I could accompany them on the deal and he was going to give me a large chunk of the revenue. He-he already gave it to me. McCallister transferred the money yesterday. I could have my own nest egg where, if I didn’t want to work, I’d have my own money and wouldn’t have to rely on you.”
She’d never get him to understand what it was like to sleep around to advance in life. Coming from her background, having her own identity and her own money was imperative to her piece of mind.
“The holidays start in earnest next week, Kendall. You’re three weeks from delivering Matilda. How the fuck did you intend to hop on a fucking plane?”
“Just what I said,” she answered around sniffles. “I thought we’d be gone a week at most. Then, when I discovered McCallister only wanted Outlaw, I still thought he’d go with the staggering amount of money involved. I thought I could use the time with him to finally make him like me.”
Narrowing his eyes, Johnnie stiffened. “How’d you propose to do that? By offering to fuck him again?”
“No! Of course not.” She wiped her cheeks and blew her nose into the napkin, a part of her pleased at Johnnie’s jealousy. “He would see that I’m good at my job and realize I’m not all bad. I’d make him understand how much I love you. Brooks was going to be there, working on him, too. It could’ve worked, Johnnie. Then he wouldn’t ignore me and you’d be happy that he’d laugh and talk to me just like he does with Zoann and Bailey.”
Heaving in a breath, Johnnie scrubbed a hand over his face. “Zoann’s his sister and Bailey’s K-P’s daughter. He feels more comfortable with her because of that. Think about Bunny. She works for Megan and he barely talks to her outside of the kids. He’s not the most talkative with women.”
“Loquacious,” she supplemented.
Johnnie grunted.
“It could’ve worked. You’re close to him.” As much as that annoyed her considering Outlaw’s treatment of her, it was true. “Eventually, he’d treat me the same way he treats Bailey and Zoann. I’m so sorry, Johnnie. I swear my intentions were good.”
“I know, Kendall,” Johnnie said with a sigh. “And you might be right. If he just took the time to get to know you, you two might become friends.”
“Forgive me.”
“Always. Just remember that when you visit my grave.”
“No! Please. Let’s talk about this. I have an idea to get him to listen to me.”
“No—”
“Yes, and you can do the same with Meggie.” That piqued his interest immediately and hurt her even deeper. He still felt something for Outlaw’s wife. Whether Johnnie knew it or not, or even wanted to admit it. “We find them in a place where they can’t run away and make them listen to us.”
“Christopher would kill you without qualms. At least if everyone’s there, especially Meggie, he’ll hesitate.”
“I just want to feel him out. I promise I won’t say anything else if he doesn’t seem amenable.”
“Fuck, no! Let me face my punishment and get it fucking over with.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’ll tell Christopher I went behind his back and accepted the deal he turned down. Hopefully, taking responsibility will save your life.”
“No! Never! I don’t want to live without you.” Especially if she were the reason he was killed. “Please. I beg you, let’s try it my way. Let’s finish dinner and go to his house.”
“I don’t want to disturb him tonight. He’s doing Christmas inventory with his family.”
“That’s not important. That can be done at any time. Club business supersedes some stupid holiday crap. This is a life or death matter.”
“Fine, gorgeous,” Johnnie agreed after a moment of thought. “I’ve lost my appetite anyway. Let’s just go and get this over with.”
Hot shower water streamed down on Christopher’s shoulders and back, the fast flow hitting all the aching pressure points in his body that indicated how fucking old he was getting. Thirty-seven in several months.
Almost thirty-fucking-seven with a three-year-old son, twenty-month-old twins, another son on the way, and a twenty-two-year-old wife, who was currently curled beneath the covers on their bed, fast asleep.
Sighing, he faced the water stream, throwing his head back so it would hit his chest before grabbing his shampoo and pouring some into his hands. As he worked the shit into his hair, he decided Megan sleeping wouldn’t matter so much if she always took naps at seven o-fucking-clock in the evening. Nor would it bother him as much if she wasn’t carrying another baby in her very delicate womb, one that had gotten filled with his twins before it had completely healed from being so damaged.
He closed his eyes and stood under the showerhead to wash the suds from his hair. What scared him the most, and made him feel every bit his age, was knowing how Megan enjoyed the holidays. She’d been looking forward to decoration inventory for days. For her to be asleep, with their plans for the evening, was concerning.
This wasn’t his girl and he suspected it had something to do with Ryder, the baby she currently carried.
Ryder. Fuck those ‘R’ names around this motherfucker—Ryan, Rory, Rebel, Rule, and now Ryder. Oh, yeah, Roxy. But if Megan wanted their son to have another ‘R’ name, who the fuck was Christopher to stop her? All he wanted was the baby out of her and her safe.
“‘Law!”
Before he had the chance to respond to his boy, CJ grunted and slid the shower door open. Christopher turned the shower off and grabbed the towel hanging on the hook right outside the enclosure.
“Ant Kenda downstairs. Her say her need talking.”
What the fuck was that bitch doing there? This was supposed to be only him, Megan, and their children. He hoped like fuck Megan hadn’t invited Johnnie and his cunt.
Christopher scrubbed the towel over his face and then through his hair. “She wanna talk to me?”
“Uh-huh,” CJ squeaked out. “MegAnn sleep. Her tired.”
Wrapping the towel around his waist, Christopher stepped out of the shower and onto the small, bamboo rug. He’d love to send CJ down with a message of fuck off, cunt, but Megan would have his ass. And, the bitch belonged to Johnnie so he couldn’t have his boy disrespect her. CJ…all the boys…had to respect women.
“Knock, knock.”
Kendall’s voice accompanied a small knock on the bathroom door right before she stepped inside.
Or maybe not. Why respect a bitch who didn’t have the fucking decency to respect herself, her husband, or any-fucking-body else?
As CJ craned his neck back and forth, a frown screwing up his little face, Christopher glared at Kendall.
CJ studied Christopher a moment. “MEG-ANN,” he suddenly screeched, darting out of the bathroom and into their bedroom.
