Misalliance (Death Dwellers MC #4.5)
Read Misalliance (Death Dwellers MC #4.5) Online
Authors: Kathryn Kelly
Misalliance
By
Kathryn Kelly
Copyright © 2015 by Kathryn Kelly
Edited by TSRBR Promotions
Scene divider image obtained via DollarPhotoClub.com
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Manufactured in the United States of America
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to
Dedication
To all of Kendall’s fan. Thank you.
Angie, Kristin, CJ, Ana, Tamela, Mel, and Fran for cheering me on and urging me to give Johnnie and Kendall their happily-ever-after.
Danni, I appreciate all your care and concern. It means a lot.
Blurb
Kendall Miller walked away from the VP of the Death Dwellers to heal. She'd made mistake after mistake. Just weeks before she delivers Johnnie's baby, she wants to reclaim the sexy club VP.
Johnnie's angry and hurt that Kendall walked away from him on their wedding day. He swears it's over between them. But Kendall is determined to seal their love once and for all.
Table of Contents
Chapter 2: Just a Fraction of the Amount
Chapter 4: A Whiny Two-Year-Old
Chapter 5: Friends and Enemies
Dear Diary,
I left my Johnnie. Walked away as if he didn’t matter. He’d had this beautiful wedding planned for me, but, I let all my feelings overwhelm me.
What did I do? Why did I leave? I’ve locked myself in one of Charlotte and Brooks Redding’s guest rooms, and I can’t stop sobbing.
I didn’t know he’d purchased a white Navigator for me, and I didn’t know he’d had intentions of building me a mansion like Christopher did for Meggie.
I didn’t know he’d intended to marry me.
In the heat of the moment, I focused on the fact that he’d asked Meggie for help to plan my wedding.
MEGGIE!
Of
all
people. Meggie, who, even now, would welcome me back with open arms, and find a way to get me and Johnnie back together. I love that about her, but I despise her for it, too.
Maybe, I can never go back. I’ll always be faced with seeing her every day, knowing Johnnie would defer to her before he listened to me.
Driving to the outskirts of Portland, breathing in the new car scent, I came to a heartbreaking realization. Perhaps, I don’t know what love is.
I know what survival is. I learned to fight back with tit-for-tat spite. I learned to get ahead, be
noticed
, through sex. Most of all, I learned I could only rely on myself in the long-run.
Therein is the problem…! Johnnie wants me to trust him enough to handle every and all situations that might put me in danger. He wants me to be above board with him. How can I trust him with details, when he can’t even believe in me enough to plan my own wedding?
Is this it for us? I don’t want it to be, but, neither do I want to live in anyone’s shadow. I don’t want to be forced to like someone, if, deep down, I don’t know how I feel.
My thoughts are all twisted and jumbled for Meggie and Johnnie. Until I can unscramble them, I’ll stay away. In a day or two, I’ll be able to talk when she calls me. Meggie always calls, so I know she will this time.
I’ve got to make her understand that she can’t interfere in my relationship with Johnnie. She says she wants us happy together. Now’s the time to prove it. How would she have felt if another woman had planned
her
wedding?
That would never happen. The only person she has to listen to is Christopher.
God, Christopher. Meggie’s barbarian of a husband, who I propositioned.
Shit, shit, shit. How pathetic am I? I’m angry with Meggie for overseeing my wedding, but how would she find it in her heart to forgive me for propositioning her husband?
Most importantly, if Johnnie discovered I offered to fuck Christopher, would I finally have his undivided attention? Or would it matter at all?
Cold February air blasted through the bare trees, the frozen ground crunching beneath Johnnie “John Boy” Donovan’s feet. The anger settling into every cell in his body goaded him to tug his pregnant ex-girlfriend out of his president’s home and along the wooded trail that led to the clubhouse.
The gray, snow-clouded, early evening didn’t help his mood, which matched the frigid temperatures. He couldn’t believe it had been around this time
last year
that he and Kendall had met. A lifetime of heartache and pain, laughter and love, and blood and death had been crammed into twelve, short months.
She’d captured his attention from the moment Christopher shoved her away from him and Johnnie helped her to her feet. He’d been fascinated. But what had she seen? What had he been to her?
“Motherfucker,” he growled, irked by his inability to answer those questions. Yanking her harder, he ignored Kendall’s squeak of protest at his rough handling.
He didn’t give a fuck.
He wanted her gone. She’d walked away from the wedding he’d planned for her, never taking into account
his
feelings. Never stopping for a moment to consider how much he’d truly loved her.
“Johnnie,” Kendall cried, panting. She squeezed his hand and tugged. “Sl-slow d-down.”
He halted and turned, wincing at her red face and heaving shoulders. Her gaze begged for consideration.
Fuck.
In a matter of weeks, she’d deliver their baby. He gritted his teeth and puffed out frustrated breaths. Their second baby. The first she’d lost thanks to her hard-headed determination and her inability to sit the fuck down and trust him to handle shit.
Her fingers trembled as she placed her hands on her stomach. Their gazes met, clashed, spoke fucking volumes. Unable to bear the turmoil he saw in her eyes, he focused on her stomach and remembered her happiness when she discovered she was pregnant again.
Regret assailed him and he waited until her breathing had calmed, before reclaiming her hand and starting forward again. A guilty conscience slowed his steps. The loss of Baby Biker wasn’t her fault. He didn’t need to continually blame her. But, fuck him, he did, a fact he hadn’t realized until she’d left. He resented the fuck out of her for so much shit, he wondered if she
had
married him, would they have worked out.
Fuck. What was he saying? He loved her…
had
loved her, he meant. When they’d been together, he hadn’t thought of anything but her peace-of-mind and well-being.
What the fuck had she given him in return?
Despite how much he got off on killing and bloodshed, he was fucking human, too, with feelings other than murderous ones.
Throwing open the door, he stepped inside and blinked to adjust his eyes to the dimmer interior. A crowd mulled around today, the members who hadn’t been invited to Mortician’s—the club enforcer’s—wedding there to toast him and Bailey, anyway. Almost as many women as men enjoyed the celebration. Rules had been relaxed for the day, although they had to keep vigil because Public Enemy #1, the Reverend Sharper Banks and his minions, was still on the loose.
But Christopher had the place swarming with “security,” or at least, his version of it. Megan safely inside their house, a five minute walk away, through the woods and buzzed-entry gates, then over a little moat-like creation with guard dogs at the ready, didn’t matter. The clubhouse remained close by, and with Sharper still a threat, everyone was on lockdown.
On the other hand, it was also Mort’s wedding day, so no fucking hit-listed motherfucker would prevent the celebration. It just boded ill for all
stupid
motherfuckers.
A threat wouldn’t be examined. Motherfuckers would be put to ground. Case closed.
“John Boy!” Cowboy yelled, from where he sat at the bar, rubbing the tits of a woman Johnnie had never seen before. She had brown hair, brown eyes, and a hard look, that fell to his zipper, as he approached them, still gripping Kendall’s hand.
He smirked at the whore. It pleased him to have his attention diverted from the woman he couldn’t seem to get over. Seeing Kendall, knowing she carried his baby, put the slightest chink in the hatred he’d built towards her.
No. No. Fuck no. He wouldn’t allow her to get under his skin again. He couldn’t.
Cowboy’s whore seemed ready for dirty fucking. This past month, all Johnnie had been doing was getting in pussy and having his dick sucked. No threesomes or orgies. No taking a woman’s ass. That needed to change. Once he got rid of Kendall, maybe, he’d join the party here, instead of meeting up with his date and joining the celebration of Mort and Bailey’s vow renewal at Christopher’s house. And get rid of Kendall he would.
They were done.
Over!
The first few weeks after she left had been some of the worse days of his life. He’d wanted her back. He would’ve done anything to win her over. He’d attempted to play her husband and keep tabs on her, but her fucking doctor had shot him down. Her doing, for sure. She was so fucking cutthroat when she wanted to be, even when she didn’t recognize her actions.
Her combination of ruthlessness and vulnerability had made him fall in love with her. Kendall wanted what she wanted and steamrolled anyone to get it.
Before, Johnnie
, he reminded himself. Before, everything had happened to her.
Not so
, he argued. The more she’d healed, the more she’d shown her bold, unflinching, opinionated approach.
Cowboy pressed something against his chest. “Have a drink.”
Glancing at the small bottle of whisky, Johnnie shook his head, frowning. The fucker hadn’t had the decency to offer him the imported stuff the club kept just for him.
“Johnnie?”
Kendall’s husky voice sent a small tremor through him.
Fuck, no, she wouldn’t do this shit to him again. He swallowed, summoning his anger. She’d fucking deserted him, a betrayal he refused to overcome. She didn’t have the fucking right to cause the lust he felt growing inside of him for her. He recoiled at the memory of how soft her skin was and how she sounded when she had an orgasm.
Fuck her.
She definitely didn’t have the right to make him remember how lost he’d felt without her.
Tightening his jaw, Johnnie hardened his resolve, then tugged her toward the hallway that led to his room. “Later, Cowboy,” he threw over his shoulder, forcing thoughts of Kendall away.
Maybe, he’d put her in his room and go have fun in the clubhouse. Not at the fucking wedding, where motherfuckers were so fucking happy with their women and children, he wanted to beat someone’s ass.
Just so someone could be as fucking miserable, and in as much pain, as he was.
But Mort was his friend and his club brother. He wanted Johnnie there.
Fuck Mort, too.
Why should Johnnie go back to the wedding, when he’d missed the very beginning of it? It had started almost an hour ago. He’d given Kendall five minutes, at
Mort’s
urging, and demanded the man stay, since he seemed so determined to defend her. Instead, he’d walked away and Kendall’s allotted five minutes had turned into
this.
Who’d suggested he and Kendall go to the clubhouse? Him or her? Johnnie didn’t remember, nor did he know what they’d said to one another, because he’d been determined to tune her out, determined to think of fucking Sherilyn—his date—later tonight. Although happy Mort had finally made peace with his demons and confessed his love for Bailey, it cut through Johnnie, so he’d invited one of the women he saw on a semi-regular basis.
One of
being the operative words. There were several. Along with the club ass he fucked regularly, he refused to be alone to wallow over losing Kendall.
Faced with his brothers’ happiness with their women really emphasized his solitary existence. Fine,
before
Kendall. Shit,
after
her.
“Johnnie?” Kendall whispered again, the question in her voice propelling him forward once more.
Her heels clipped on the concrete and kept in step with his heavier tread. Finally, they reached his room and he unlocked the door, stepping aside so she could enter. Without bidding, she flipped on the light and sucked in a breath.
Not one visible trace of the time she’d lived there with him remained.
“Tell me what you have to say and then leave.” He slammed the door, the sound defining his cold tone. “Why are you here?”
“M-Meggie,” she stammered. “Meggie invited me.”
Megan would. She and Kendall had such a complicated relationship. One moment, they hated one another and, the next, they were defending each other. He’d never understand those two as long as he fucking lived.
His frustration grew and he thrust his hands through his hair. “And you’re such besties with her, that you came right over to the party?” he snapped.
Tears rushing to her eyes, she placed a hand on her bulging belly, round with his baby. Once more, the gesture captured his attention. He stared at stomach, at her, into her brown gaze. In that moment, he hated her. Simply because, he loved her so much it hurt.
“I came for you,” she admitted softly, her tears twisting his heart.
“Shut the fuck up,” he growled. “You didn’t come for me. You left me. Remember?”
“Johnnie?”
No one ever said his name the way she did. Even now, when she sounded so heartbroken. “Stop it, Kendall. Tell me the real reason you’re here? It’s been six months. What do you want now?”
She took a step towards him, but halted when he backed away. “You,” she said around a sob. “Us. I love you.”
With his emotions running so high, her confession couldn’t have come at a worse time. He laughed with bitterness. “Love me? Do you? As I recall, you threw my feelings back into my face.
You walked away from me on our wedding day
. Thanks for loving me so much that you couldn’t believe whatever I did was to help you. I never once turned my fucking back on you. I busted my ass, walking a tightrope to keep you
and
Christopher happy.”
“That asshole can’t be happy!” she cried. “It wasn’t your place to make him happy. Meggie is there for that. It was your place to make
me
happy.”
“Relationships are a two-way street. What the fuck did you ever do to please me?”
“Fucked you.”
“I can get fucked any time I want to,” he scoffed, a twinge of guilt hitting him. She’d been hurt enough. He’d promised to always protect her. Throwing in her face that he fucked other women would definitely hurt her.
If
she truly gave a fuck about him. After convincing himself for months that she didn’t give two shits about him, he was wavering in that belief. All it took to change his mind was her return. He’d had enough. “I have been fucking. Every night,” he told her.
Her face crumpled and all the fight left her. Instead of vindication, Johnnie felt like a cruel fuckhead.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s over, Kendall. We’re done.” The words hurt him. She was just a few feet away from him. He could touch her, taste her, and love her. She’d returned. But for how long? What would send her packing this time? That decided him.
They. Were. Over.
It had to be this way, especially after the last few moments. He was lashing out, because that’s what he did. He sought revenge on the people who hurt him. Kendall had crushed him.
“We’ll do nothing but hurt one another. There’s no coming back for us.”
He walked to his window and glanced out. He could only see the trees here, not even the trail that led to their houses. Well, not
his
house. The space where he’d intended to build Kendall a home was just a plot of land with lines of demarcation.
Behind him, Kendall’s sobs reached him and he stiffened, clenching his fists. He felt disconnected and out of place, not unlike the feelings he’d had before she came into his life in a bold bid to frame Christopher. She’d been different then. It was before she’d lost her mother and her little sister. Before Spoon’s violence.
By the time Spoon finished with her, she’d been a shell of her former self. She’d struggled to adjust. Her trust had been out the window, as had her decision making skills.
She’d fucked up time and again while she’d been on her mission to rescue her little sister. Her bullshit had forced Johnnie to
borrow
her from society to discover her exact motives. Little by little, she’d gotten under his skin and he’d fallen in love with her. He’d only learned about love thanks to Megan.
Kendall had had so many problems, but it hadn’t mattered. Beneath it all, she’d still been
Kendall.
A survivor and a woman who managed to face each day head-on, despite everything. Johnnie would’ve spent the rest of his life at her side whether she had issues or not. But he was human. He couldn’t turn off his fucking emotions and wash away his fucking past, out of convenience, for her sake.
