Misappropriate (15 page)

Christopher and Mouse slapped the hands together and clutched in the universal sign of brotherhood. “Where the fuck you been, motherfucker?”

Mouse smiled. “Around, bro. Your old lady gonna be fine out here. Go in. I’ll watch over her and escort her to you myself.”

He glanced back at Meggie who stood next to his bike, deep in conversation. He wanted to get some intel, have a few drinks as a show of respect, then get the fuck gone and in bed with Megan. He nodded. “Thanks, brother.”

When he walked in, he saw people scattered about. Most of the motherfuckers were heading to the back where he knew the party was taking place. The room was half the size of the Dwellers’ main room. The photos of their Free Bird members hung on the wall to the left of him, a greeting to everyone who walked into the place. He received a few nods here and there. As he approached the bar, two bitches he hadn’t seen in ages rushed up to him.

“Outlaw,” the taller one breathed, planting her mouth against his. “Where’ve you been, baby?” She grew eight fucking hands because she touched him every-fucking-where.

He pushed her away. “Get the fuck off me, bitch.”

“C’mon, baby, don’t be like that,” the other one said, licking his ear, having the same octo-fucking-pussy hands as the other bitch. “Let’s find a spot where you can watch me eat some of her mocha pussy pudding.”

Fuck, if he could remember their names. He
did
remember fucking them, though. “I said get the fuck off me.”

Two guys he didn’t remember being members the last time he’d visited narrowed their eyes at him as they crowded him in. “Yo? Rose, Chantal, this White boy giving you problems?”

Fuck him, he wasn’t in the fucking mood for this bullshit. “No, motherfucker, this White boy ain’t givin’ these two fuckin’ bitches problems. More like these two bitches givin’ this fuckin’ White boy problems. I suggest you get them the fuck away from me.”

“Don’t sweat it, baby,” the tall one said and Christopher didn’t know if she was fucking Rose or Chantal and he really didn’t give a fuck. “Boy and Outlaw tight. And Outlaw don’t fuck around, so drop it.”

Dumb ass snickered. “You can’t do fucking math, you dumb slut? There’s two of us and one of him. What the fuck can he do?”

“This,” Christopher snarled, punching the fuckhead who refused to shut the fuck up in the throat and pulling his nine out, pointing it at the friend of fuckhead. “Now, you got about two fuckin’ seconds to get the fuck outta my fuckin’ face before you missin’ yours. My old lady here, so you gotta fuckin’ make a decision now cuz I don’t want her pretty outfit dirtied with your fuckin’ blood.”

“Who the fuck in here disrespecting my club?” another voice boomed across the sudden silence.

Yeah, Christopher sure the fuck was disrespecting another man’s club, something that could start a turf war, but, fuck it, he’d been involved in them before.

“It’s Outlaw, Boy,” Christopher called through gritted teeth.”

Silence. Yeah. Boy always called him cray-cray. Christopher hated that fucking term, but he’d fucking take it right about now. Of course, the man still had to look like he knew how to hold his own fucking balls in front of his boys, so anything could happen.

“What seems to be the problem?” Boy stopped next to Christopher, his own piece at his side, and scratched his bald head.

“We was just wantin’ to fuck Outlaw,” one of the girls explained. She thrust her chin to fuckhead still on the floor and the dumb fuck who Christopher held his gun to. “And them two got involved.”

“In my fuckin’ business, which ain’t ever a good fuckin’ idea.”

Boy glared at the two pretty girls. If Christopher remembered, he had tag-teamed the taller one with Johnnie. Or had he…? Might’ve been another pretty chick. Or both of them…? Who the fuck knew? That was many fucking condoms ago.

“They displeased you in some way, Outlaw?”

Christopher scowled. “Nope.”

“He say he brought his old lady,” the tall chick volunteered.

“She can always join in,” the shorter one offered.

He switched the gun from his left-hand to his right, and showed his ring finger. “Nope, babe, she can’t.”

Tall chick’s dark eyes widened. “You’re married?”

“Legally?” Short chick squeaked.

He nodded.

“How long?” Boy asked.

“Eleven months.”

The girls snickered. “We won’t tell her. We can sneak out back and fuck and the boys will keep her in here.”

“She’ll never find out,” Tall chick promised, raising her hand. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Since this is my birthday, let’s let bygones be bygones. Don’t want us to become enemies on what should be a celebration.” Boy indicated the two women using his gun. “You two bitches, get the fuck out of the man’s face.”

The women scurried off and Boy rocked back on his heels. “I’d appreciate it if you put your piece away, Outlaw.”

For a moment, Christopher stared into the eyes of the other man, hoping he got the message not to fuck with him ever again. Then, he stuck his nine back into his jacket. The fuckhead Christopher knocked in the throat staggered to his feet.

“It’s his fault, Boy,” Dumb fuck complained, flicking his thumb toward Christopher. “Come in here wearing fucking colors that’s not ours.” He looked him up and down and sneered. “And with him being who he is, we didn’t appreciate the way he spoke to those two fucking bitches.”

“I’ve
fucked
those two fuckin’ bitches,” Christopher snapped. “We live in a diversified fuckin’ world, motherfucker. You need to move to the 21
^st
century. You dealin’ with me cuz I had unrecognizable colors I can understand. You dealin’ with me cuz of your other fuckin’ bullshit, pisses me the fuck off.”

“Outlaw ain’t like that,” Boy said, bristling, “and, now, you insulting one of our allies. If anything happened to this fuck or any of the Dwellers…”

Boy’s voice trailed off.

“A reign of fuckin’ terror would happen to whoever was responsible,” Christopher finished.

“Get the fuck out of my face before I knee cap your asses,” Boy ordered, gesturing toward the door with the gun.

The two men hustled away and Boy pocketed his piece. Christopher and Boy greeted one another much the same as him and Mouse had, adding a brief bro hug.

“Here’s your woman, Outlaw,” Mouse said from behind him.

Christopher turned and saw Megan smiling at him. He bent and kissed her. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey, you.” She smiled at Mouse. “Thanks.”

Mouse nodded. “My pleasure,” he said and walked away.

“Where the fuck you been?”

“Talking to Momma, then Mouse and I got to talking. Before I knew it, twenty minutes had passed.”

Christopher shrugged and cursed when he realized he’d lost his cigarette during the exchange with fuckhead and dumb fuck, so he lit another one and said, “Don’t worry, baby. You ain’t missed shit.”

Letting his smoke hang from his lips, he turned Megan toward Boy and wrapped his arms around her waist. “This my wife.”

Boy’s gold grill gleamed when he smiled. “That’s where you’ve been, huh?” he asked with a laugh.

“Yeah. Gettin’ hitched and makin’ my son.”

“Yes, indeed, Outlaw.” Boy gave Megan the once over. Three fucking times. “Always knew you were a smart fucking man.” He held out a big hand to Megan. “I’m Boy.”

Megan grinned and placed her hand in his. “A pleasure,” she said. “I’m Megan.”

“You two stayin’ and partyin’ a minute, right?” Boy asked with a shit-eating grin that Christopher felt like knocking the fuck away.

“Yes,” Megan answered. “We came for your party.”

Boy nodded and lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t fucking say? Mighty strange. I recall having a birthday last year and the year before and don’t remember seeing Outlaw around.”

Christopher glared at Boy and kissed the top of Megan’s head, breathing in the scent of her hair to calm himself. “Didn’t get an invitation,” he responded, sucking on his cigarette and squinting his watering eyes when the smoke hit him the wrong way. “Don’t want to invade another man’s turf uninvited.”

Boy laughed. “Still got that fucking silver tongue, I see.”

“Ain’t nothin’ but a thing,” Christopher said with a smile. “I need to fuckin’ talk to you. Is there a quiet fuckin’ place?”

“For you? Always?” Boy beckoned a girl over, who wore a strip of silver material that concealed her nipples but kept her aureoles revealed. The outfit twisted across her belly in an ‘x’ pattern, met at her pussy, and just managed to cover it. “Take Outlaw’s old lady to Danicka.”

Megan glanced up at him. “His old lady, baby,” Christopher explained.

Tits bouncing, the girl sauntered past Christopher, revealing a bubble of an ass, round cheeks exposed, that was hard not to admire. “Follow me,” she told Megan.”

Biting down on her lip, Megan hesitated, but when the girl lifted a pierced brow, she went behind her.

Five minutes later, Christopher had a glass of tequila, a cold beer, and the situation about Cee Cee on the table. “So far, me and my boys ain’t found no motherfucker matchin’ that description in any of the area clubs. Most recent fuckin’ turnover for president was my club.”

“Agreed.” Boy leaned back in his chair. “You believed his claim?”

Christopher shrugged, not revealing Cee Cee’s declaration of being his father. Listening to Megan’s description and having Johnnie verify it made Christopher believe their blood ties.

The other shit? He didn’t know. He kept his finger on the pulse of the activities of both his allies and his rivals, but green motherfuckers liked to test established outfits.

“Can’t say. Could be a new outfit, taking balls in hands to get their rep out there and establish cred.”

Boy rubbed his eyes. “Fuck. That’s all the fuck we need.”

“Yeah, stupid motherfuckers challengin’ the hierarchy.” Christopher tasted his tequila, held it in his mouth and sipped from his bottle of beer to chase it. “Usually, it’s young dickheads without the sense to fuckin’ know better.”

Unless it was personal like Cee Cee claimed.

“I’ll put some feelers out,” Boy promised, pulling out a baggie and cigarette paper.

Christopher downed the rest of his alcohol. Fuck, he needed a blunt right now. “Pass, brother,” he said, watching with longing as Boy began to lay the grass on the paper.

“You clean?” he asked, not pausing in his task.

Christopher chuckled. “Fuck, no. Just don’t fuck with it when I have my girl with me.”

Boy waved away Christopher’s reservations. “Danicka won’t leave her and she’d never make the mistake of coming back here unless I give her permission.” He finished the roll and placed it in front of Christopher before starting on a second one. “Let’s go in the alley. I’ll have a couple whores brought to us to suck our dicks.”

Christopher got to his feet and pulled out his wallet, taking out some bills and placing them in front of Boy, not only for the blunt but for the anticipated assistance in the Cee Cee matter. “No, bro,” he said, pocketing Aunt Mary. “Ain’t happenin’. I love and respect my girl too much for that bullshit.”

Boy gave Christopher an under-eyed look. “You saying I don’t respect my bitch?”

Christopher folded his arms. “Don’t give a fuck if you respect your woman or not. If I thought that I sure the fuck would tell you, but since I haven’t thought about it because I couldn’t give two fucks, I don’t care if you respect the bitch or not. Besides, it ain’t my fuckin’ business, so I ain’t commentin’ and if you got a problem with what the fuck I said, just deal with it, motherfucker.”

Shaking his head and pocketing the ten bills, Boy shook his head. “Still off the fucking chain, Outlaw.”

“Just keep your fuckin’ ears to the ground and send me whatever the fuck you find out.”

When Christopher returned to the main room, he searched out Megan and saw her talking to a group of women, including the two bitches from earlier and Danicka.

He considered intercepting the conversation but whatever damage those bitches had wreaked was already done and pulling Megan away would only make the situation worse. Sighing, he went to the bar and ordered a setup. By then, Boy had joined Christopher and they decided to play a game of pool. At the end of the game, he’d had enough of those gossiping bitches keeping Megan away from him, so he removed her from the circle of bitches.

After buying a bottle of tequila and six beers, he guided her toward the back, where the
real
party was taking place. The moment they stepped outside, they heard moaning. Two bikers leaned against the back wall, getting their dicks sucked.

He slanted a glance at her, dying to know her thoughts. And just what the fuck those bitches had been telling her. Taking her hand into his own and keeping a firm grip on her, he weaved through the crowd of dancing people. Sprinkled throughout the group were one or two bitches getting fucked by two, three, or four bikers. Other motherfuckers passed blunts around and Christopher didn’t doubt some of the shit had more than just fucking grass in it.

This was hardcore, a side of the life Megan hadn’t been exposed to because he hadn’t allowed it. He’d kept her away when things got too out of hand with the boys. Her head was swiveling in all directions, her wide eyes taking in everything.

He found a spot for them on the perimeter of the craziness.
His fucking world.
She loved him? But did she love
this
side of him? The side related to
Cee Cee
? No. Not Cee Cee. Sebastian Fucking Caldwell.

“Dirty, filthy little idiot.”

“Devil’s spawn.”

“Evil little bastard.”

His grandfather’s voice floated in his head and Christopher’s skin crawled at the names thrown at him from his earliest recollections. His mother had always sobbed her heart out from her daddy’s meanness.

Because of him.

His sisters had sobbed, too.

Because of him. Because his carelessness had gotten their mother killed.

Megan sobbed. Because of him. Because that’s what he was good for.

He dropped onto the ground and opened the bottle of tequila before pulling out his blunt. He took a swig of liquor, narrowed his eyes at Megan. She was pale as a motherfucker and his heart hurt.