Misappropriate (21 page)

“I thought you did that band thing and was in a school for filmmakin’.”

She refocused her attention to Christopher at his statement. “I haven’t been doing too well this last year,” she mumbled and bowed her head. “I-I’m glad things worked out for you and Meggie.”

              He glowered at her, refusing to give an inch.

“I wanted her to tell you that I was sorry,” she continued.

That was news. “Yeah?”

Swiping at tears, Ophelia sniffled and nodded. “She invited us to her bridal shower, so I could tell you myself.”

Megan. His soft-hearted, determined Megan. He needed her so fucking bad.

“I’m sorry, Christopher,” Ophelia whispered in a trembling voice. “The way they—“ She swallowed—“I treated you,” she amended. “Can you please forgive me?”

He considered refusing her heartfelt plea. She’d been the bitch who’d delivered the messages for the other fucking bitches. She could’ve taken a stand against them. But, no, they’d all turned their backs on him when he’d needed them.

Fuck. Him. He couldn’t send her away when she looked so vulnerable and sounded so sincere. “Fuck me,” he mumbled, under his breath. He threw her a dirty look. “Apology fuckin’ accepted. Now, if that’s all get the fuck outta my room and leave me and my boys the fuck alone.”

Even with his harsh words, relief brightened Ophelia’s features. She looked as if she wanted to say or do something else. Instead, she sighed and said, “thank you.” She glanced at Val again. “Er, um, V-Val. Zoann…Meggie…
we
talked and Meggie suggested Zoann let you visit Ryan while she’s on duty at the hospital.”

Val straightened, anticipation spreading over his face as he waited for Ophelia to continue.

“Whenever she goes on duty, I’ll give you a heads-up and, if you have time, you—“

Val didn’t need to hear anymore. “When’s the next time she goes on duty?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ll be there.” He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

Ophelia cleared her throat and turned to leave. At the door, she looked back. “Don’t thank me, Val,” she said softly. “Thank Meggie.”

The words hung in the air after she left and Johnnie, Val, and Digger all stared at him.

“Don’t say a fuckin’ thing, fuckheads.”

Not that they had to. Their accusatory looks said it all.

He was being an assfuck to Megan.

Chapter 12

Meggie kept a smile plastered on her face, throughout the day, though inside she felt wrecked. She’d asked Christopher not to announce that their church services had been cancelled, so she pretended to be happy in front of all the women when she and Christopher were at such crossroads. When the shame of the fresh cuts on her thighs stung her physically and mentally.

If Christopher gave her attention only during the good times, then their relationship wasn’t at all what she thought it to be. That hurt more than anything.

During the course of her shower, she managed to get some music going and got some of the ladies to join her in dancing. She, Bunny, Gypsy and Bailey danced to
Timber
and
Blurred Lines
, they played a few more games that Zoann and Ophelia led and, then, finally, it was over.

When she went to save her gifts, she realized Christopher was gone again. Was their marriage over? She looked in on her mother and saw her on the floor, playing with CJ. Since their return from Seattle, Dinah was acting better, different, and more in the present. Dinah had even shocked Meggie and prepared the mac and cheese that Meggie had loved at one time.

Backing out of the room and not wanting CJ to detect her, Meggie decided to go for a drive. She needed her keys, so she returned to the room and wrinkled her nose. Thanks to the boys, the room smelled like smoke and alcohol.

Ugh! She couldn’t bring CJ in there until she freshened it up, so she changed plans—cleaning instead of getting out and clearing her head.

First order of business…opening the window. Next, she removed the empty beer and tequila bottles. No wonder Christopher could be so difficult. He’d pickled his brain with all the drinking.

It surprised her, but restoring the room didn’t take as long as she’d expected. She cleaned it on a daily basis, so that helped. Grabbing her keys and her ID, she headed out. Her car was kept in back and Christopher always sent a Probate to get it for her, but she didn’t feel like talking. Smacking her husband, yes. Conversing with anyone else, no.

The cloudy afternoon was morphing into early evening and she wondered where Christopher was again, not wanting to consider what he might be doing. She tried to keep his dark side from haunting him and, most of the time, refrained from asking questions because she didn’t want to know. But she
did
know. She’d seen the do or die situations firsthand, months ago. It was awful of her, but she preferred Christopher to get his enemies before his enemies got him.

When she drove to the gate, Stretch stopped her, pinning her with his blue eyes. He scratched his mop of brown hair, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline. “Where you going, Meggie?”

“Out.”

“Er, Prez is gonna want to know—“

“Where’s Christopher?” she snapped.

He blinked and she detected Christopher’s whereabouts were as big a mystery to him as they were to her. Not having an argument to give her under the circumstances, Stretch looked at the ground.

“Open the gate.”

He groaned, but nodded.

Meggie didn’t have an exact destination in mind. She just needed a break. For months, someone was always around her. At first, she appreciated the protection and loved the fact Christopher kept her so close. Now, though, she realized he could take a break whenever it pleased him.

Craving a chocolate fudge milk shake, she pulled into the one of her favorite restaurants, surprised at the early crowd. Finding a spot near the exit of the parking lot, close to the road, she hurried inside, stood in line to order, then slid into a booth once she’d gotten her shake.

The chocolate tasted so delicious and she closed her eyes in bliss. For a few minutes, she just enjoyed her shake and the hum of the crowd, the laughter of the little kids.

Thoughts of Christopher crept into her head, anyway, and she sat her shake down, covering her face with her hands. She bit her lip to keep from giving into the urge to sink her teeth into her wrist to make her uncertainty and fear go away.

She breathed in half sigh and half sob, and refocused on her chocolate shake. She reminded herself how much stronger she was supposed to be now. She
was
stronger. But she was still human. And, sometimes, people took three steps backwards before they leapt ten forward. For the first time since she started cutting, she wanted to talk to someone about it and admit what she did to herself.

She already knew her triggers—violence against her person—where she had no control over her body or if she lived or died.

She’d tried talking to Dinah last night, but when she blurted she injured herself to take away pain and humiliation, her mother had looked at her and said, “It’s a simple decision. All you have to do is stop. It isn’t like cutting yourself will prevent men from doing what they want to you.” She’d hugged Meggie and kissed her cheek. “I hope this has helped.”

Then, she’d started talking about something else.

Meggie winced, her shame deepening at the bluntness of Dinah’s words and wishing with everything in her that it was so simple.

By the time she left, night had fallen and Christopher hadn’t once called or texted her. Though CJ was being weaned, she nursed him at night, so she needed to get home.

“Meggie?”

She paused in the opening of her car door when she heard her name. Bin stepped into the brightness of the parking lot light and smiled at her. He held a box in his hand.

She raised her chin and brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “Hey, Bin.”

He nodded and held the box out to her. “Prez asked me to find you and give this to you. An apology, he said.”

Meggie debated on whether or not to take the big shiny box with a golden bow from Bin since Christopher usually gave her his gifts himself, especially for an apology. Then, again, he hadn’t been acting normal toward her, so this was probably legitimate.

She grabbed it from him, surprised at the weight. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Meggie.” With a last smile, he backed away. “See you round.”

More like see you tomorrow, Meggie thought grumpily.

Opening the back door of her Beetle, she sat the gift next to CJ’s car seat since it was too big to fit inside it, got in the driver’s side and sped back to the compound, relieved to find her husband had gotten back. Not that they’d talk much, but, at least, he was home.

Most of the bikes she recognized, so it looked like nothing big was going on tonight. Fine. Maybe, she could take Christopher to the room and open the present with him since he’d sent Bin to give it to her. Unlikely. This was just Christopher’s way of checking up on her.

Holding the gift, she rushed inside. Christopher stood at the bar and glanced over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Megs!” Johnnie called from the corner where he and Digger sat playing Dominoes.

Christopher stalked to her. “What the fuck you got, Megan?”

She stomped around him, to the nearest table and set the box down. “What do you think?” she snapped, yanking the bow off and lifting the lid, barely paying attention to the dark plastic bag. “The gift you sent Bin to deliver to me.”

She jerked the bag open and staggered back.

“I didn’t send no motherfucker—“

Meggie’s ear-splitting scream cut him off.

Inside the box, a severed head stared at her.

Chapter 13

Grabbing Megan, Christopher wrapped his arms around her. His boys were already swarming around the gift while he tried to calm his wife down. She was shaking like a fucking leaf.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, grabbed each side of her head and forced her to look at him.

“Megan, baby, calm down. It’s okay.” It sure the fuck
wasn’t
okay. Motherfucking Bin was a fucking dead ass. He sent a fucking
head
to Megan? That motherfucker would soon fucking miss his. “It’s okay,” he repeated.

She pounded on his chest. “A head? I was given somebody’s head! A head.” He forced her head against his chest and kissed her crown while she sobbed against him. “H-he g-gave me a head. That’s not okay.”

“No, baby. You right. It’s not.”

“Hey, Megs.” Johnnie held out a glass of alcohol. Whisky, probably, since that’s what he preferred. “Drink this to calm yourself.”

She didn’t move, just clung to Christopher.

“Oh my God,” she shrieked after a moment. “I had that in my car. Next to CJ’s baby seat. I can’t ever get back in that car again.”

“C’mon, Meggie, sit down, babe,” K-P offered, reaching out for her.

Christopher knocked the man’s hand away and threaded his fingers through Megan’s hair, murmuring soft words to her.

She’d buried her face against Christopher’s chest, like she could make the fucking image of seeing a motherfucker’s dead head vanish, but her heart pounded hard enough to break her fucking ribcage. Wetness spread over his stomach and he knew immediately her milk was letting down.

He guided her to a chair and sat her down, then motioned Johnnie over with a wave. He took the drink, crouched down, and held the glass to Megan’s lips. “Drink,” he ordered.

She took a sip, swallowed, and coughed.

“Drink it all,” he said again.

She held her breath and finished it in two gulps, gagging after the last drop. “Why would Bin do that?” Her blue eyes looked at him with trust, like he had all the answers to life’s biggest mysteries. “Is he working with Cee Cee?”

Probably. No use lying to Megan. She always figured shit out. “That’s what the fuck I’m thinkin’, Megan.”

She threw her arms around him and started to sob all over again. “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! What…Oh God, suppose that had been you?” she cried. “Suppose he’d sent me your head?”

The moment she said the words, she leaned over and hurled.

Not that he blamed her. He’d hurled once or twice himself after kills. He scooped her into his arms, needing to comfort her in private. He indicated the vomit with a nod. “See to this. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Inside their room, she stood in silence and allowed him to undress her, just Zombie fucking staring straight the fuck ahead. He unbuttoned her shirt, the swells of her breasts rising from her pretty lace bra. Her chin wobbled, tears slipping from her eyes. He thumbed them away. Urging her down on the bed, he crouched and untied her sneakers, pulling them off her feet and repeating the action with her thick brown socks.

“Up.”

She sniffled, her lips trembling. “I can do this myself.”

He cursed at the distance in her tone. Fuck him, if he didn’t get his shit together, he’d lose her. He saw it in her frown and the complete withdrawal in her features. His phone beeped a text message alert and Megan pulled back further, her gaze accusing. He hadn’t been spending time with her and she hadn’t been fucking him. It wasn’t a big fucking stretch to imagine the conclusions she was reaching.