Misappropriate (6 page)

She giggled and Christopher rolled his eyes. Give him fucking strength.

After Mortician gave the girl his order, he went behind Christopher and leaned his arms on the top of the office chair. Apparently, this was some fucking signal because Val and Johnnie joined the group. He supposed if K-P and Stretch hadn’t been somewhere getting fucked, they would’ve joined him, too, and then he’d have all his officers at his side. As if he needed baby-fucking-sitting.

“What’s up, Prez?” Val asked. He thrust his chin out to one of the brothers, ordering the man, without words, to give up his seat. Once he sat, he drew out a bud, lit it, took a couple puffs, then began passing it around. “You not enjoying your party?”

“No. I ain’t enjoyin’ my fuckin’ party,” he snapped.

Mortician took his drags, then poured himself a glass of tequila, after passing the herb to Johnnie. “That’s what the fuck I’m talking about. Young pussy. I’m gonna stay far away from that shit. A man get too addicted to showing a young bitch how to fuck. She gets his nose wide open and the next thing you know, a man hooked on one pussy.”

“Fuck off,” Christopher growled. Yeah, he’d taught Megan all about fucking and shit with her—how fucking sensitive to his touch her body was—continued to amaze him. But Mortician sounded too fucking amused. “I bet you one fucking G, you gonna end up with some young pussy yourself.” After he puffed on the roll, he kept it, needing another hit before he passed it to Digger. “When you do, I’m gonna laugh in your fuckin’ face, motherfucker.”

Mortician shifted behind Christopher. “Not happening, Outlaw. Not in a million fucking years.”

Johnnie flicked a lighter to light the cigarette hanging from his mouth. Once he did, he blew out smoke and grinned. “You fucking sure about that, Mort?”

“I’m so sure I’m willing to up the ante to five Gs.”

Digger finally got his turn with Aunt Mary. “What the fuck’s the bet?” he asked, once he’d released the smoke.

“That assfuck here falls in love with a young bitch like Meggie,” Val answered.

“I’m in,” Digger announced, grabbing the tequila from Mortician and drinking straight from the bottle. “You talk too fucking much, Mortician. That shit gonna come back and bite you in the ass. Straight up.”

Mortician just cursed as Val and Johnnie cast their bets on Christopher’s and Digger’s side.

“If Megan was here, you’d be partying like fuck,” Digger pointed out, changing the topic and getting back to his girl.

Yeah, he would. If she’d just
called
he’d be partying like a motherfucker. But she hadn’t and she wasn’t answering
his
calls. Too much worry consumed him for him to think about fucking partying.

“Megan left for nothing if you just sitting around, looking like something from
Paranormal Activity
.”

Christopher opened his mouth to say something, when he noticed a tall, redhead heading for him. At least six feet, the beauty had endless legs, heavy breasts, a slender waist, round hips and a shaved pussy, while her red hair flirted with her ribcage and curled at the ends.

The surety of her movements and the heat in her big, brown eyes made Christopher’s head pound. This bitch better have been sent by motherfuckers who didn’t know Megan. Or the fact that she trusted him enough to leave town with her mother and Christopher’s son, so he could enjoy this shit the boys had planned for him.

The redhead sat on Christopher’s lap and grinded against his crotch. The fact that his dick jumped pissed him the fuck off even more. But he was a man with a well-functioning cock. Having pussy grinded on him would get a response from almost any motherfucker.

He surged up…and shoved her back so hard she landed not only on her ass but flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. He shot to his feet and pulled out his nine, fed fucking up. Everything screeched to a motherfucking halt. Just like the fuck it should.

“I told all you fucks not to send no bitches to me. Bring me the motherfucker who want to smile in my wife’s face then send me a whore to fuck while she’s away?”

“Outlaw, calm down,” Johnnie said. He kept a smile on his face, so the words sounded like they came from some talking fucking puppet or some shit, then glanced at the gun. Christopher knew his cousin was debating on whether or not to touch him and try to force his hand down.

He kept fucking still, which, in Christopher’s opinion was a wise fucking choice.

“You know the boys didn’t mean any harm,” he continued, closer to Christopher so he could speak in low tones, instead of through his teeth. “Don’t ruin your own fucking bachelor party by shooting some dumb fuck.”

Christopher narrowed his eyes, but Johnnie didn’t waver, holding his ground—out of stupidity or sheer determination.

              “Yeah, Outlaw, let it go,” Digger said. “We didn’t tell the stupid bitch to go to you. She done that on her own.”

The girl was sitting up now, still looking at Christopher with come-fuck-me eyes. Johnnie scowled at her, walked over and yanked her to her feet. She looked too refined to be a whore, but, what the fuck did Christopher know about bitches? Enough money bought off years of wrinkles and hard living with plastic surgery and all that other bullshit.

Val’s tear-drop tat on his left cheek crinkled when he frowned. “We have a bunch of bitches here, Prez. The Bobs and our Club Ass know not to fuck with you, but the outside girls wouldn’t.”

Christopher thought about what Megan would say if she found out he’d put a hole in some stupid motherfucker for disrespecting her by sending a whore to him while she was gone. Fuck. She wouldn’t like it. His piece disappeared inside his cut and he nodded. “Then clue them the fuck in because not a motherfucker alive disrespectin’ my girl like this.” He glared at the room in general. “You hear me, fuckheads? You wanna continue to be welcome on premises, not get a bullet in your ass, you fuckin’ keep it straight with my wife. Fuck as many bitches as you want. Fuck ‘em ‘til your dick drop the fuck off. Ain’t no other bitch gettin’ me
except
Megan. Now, I ain’t gonna fuckin’ repeat myself. Get the word out. Take out a ad in the newspaper:
Outlaw Caldwell only fucks Megan Caldwell.
I don’t give a rat’s fuck. Just don’t let there ever,
ever
be a repeat of this shit again.”

“Not like we’ll ever get the chance, Outlaw,” Mortician reminded him. “In the months since you and Megan been married, this is the first time you two gonna be apart for more than half a day.”

“And she fuckin’ lucky she got to go this time,” Christopher snarled. “Took CJ with her, too.”

“Give Megs a break,” Johnnie protested. Not loud, though. He valued his fucking teeth. “On a good day, you’re a fucking Neanderthal with Megan.”

Then, again, maybe, he didn’t value the motherfuckers.

“Outlaw, we promise we gonna do better about getting the word out, brother,” the barrel-chested president of their bigger support club called. He raised a shot glass. “Now, I propose a toast to you and the missus.”

Hollering and congratulations competed with the sound of glasses, bottles, and cans clanking together. The toast appeased him, but he was fucking through. He couldn’t take one more minute of this bullshit.

“John Boy,” Christopher called, baring his teeth in dislike at the girl he’d all but forgotten about until she peeped from behind Johnnie. “It’s gonna be a long fuckin’ two days. I’m goin’ to my fuckin’ room.”

Johnnie smiled at the girl. “Turn the corner, go left and head to the last room on the left hand side of the hallway. Wait for me there, gorgeous.”

She nodded and scampered away. Christopher realized she hadn’t spoken one word. Of course, whores weren’t there to talk. They were there to fuck. But, hell, the way a bitch sounded could make or break the deal, too.

“Let’s go have another smoke,” he ordered and turned, coming face-to-face with the gigantic mural of the Grim Reaper holding a bloody scythe while his eyes burned like hellfire. A smaller version was now tatted on his left shoulder to cover his most recent bullet wound.

At his door, Christopher rifled through his keys until he found the proper one. Once all five of them were in the room, he locked it again.

A huge framed photo of a pregnant Megan greeted Christopher. She stood sideways, her gorgeous face looking into the camera, her hands covering her breasts. In the photo, he stood behind her, leaning into her, his hand resting on her bulging belly. In size, coloring, and age, he was a stark contrast to her and he figured that’s what drew him the most to her—their differences. Her innocence and youth dug into his darkness and lit him up, dredging up emotions women older than her couldn’t reach because Christopher figured they knew the score. And, even if they hadn’t, so fucking what? Experienced bitches came a dime a dozen and saw in him what he saw in them—a body to fuck.

Looking at the painting now, hearing Johnnie’s sharp breath as he paused next to Christopher  made Christopher wish he’d waited until their house was completed before he hung it. As usual, though, Megan had prevailed and gotten her way.

“Why the fuck ain’t you called, baby?” he asked, like the photo had fucking answers. He ran his knuckles along his jaw, his wedding band speeding up his heart. “You decided you couldn’t take this shit no fuckin’ more and skipped out on me?”

“Stop being dumb,” Digger snapped. “She didn’t leave you, Prez.”

“If she hasn’t left you yet, why would she now?” Johnnie asked. He walked to the entertainment center and pulled out a bottle of whisky, along with five glasses. “She loves you.”

Christopher accepted a filled glass then sat on the side of the bed. “God only knows why.”

“We ain’t figured the shit out either,” Digger said with a shrug, “but the bitch do and that’s what should be important.”

“Maybe, I keep her too close,” Christopher reasoned after downing the whisky. “She been gone eleven hours, twenty-two minutes, and—“ He raised his wrist up and looked at his watch—“fifteen point seven seconds and I ain’t had one fuckin’ call from her. She ain’t fuckin’ answered my fuckin’ calls neither.”

“Let me just start off by saying I don’t mean no disrespect in what I’m about to say,” Val began, backing closer to the door. Perspiration appeared on his bald head and upper lip. “But your behavior with her is a little possessive. I-I mean like a stalker or something.”

“You forgot what the fuck happened to her, assfuck?” Christopher snarled. If they had, he sure the fuck hadn’t. “My girl was stabbed in the fuckin’ chest. I coulda lost her.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t.” Mortician paused to allow the statement to sink in, he gave Christopher an under-eyed look, then chose another fact to bitch slap him with. “And, since then, you’ve gone on short runs on club business where you couldn’t call her.”

“She ain’t on fuckin’ club business. She left with my son because of this weddin’ shit. A weddin’ we don’t fuckin’ need since we already fuckin’ married. It was
her
idea to leave. I didn’t fuckin’ ask her to do it.”

While he raged through all the possible scenarios, the other three assfucks glanced at Johnnie, who shrugged. Christopher didn’t like that fucking shrug. It meant something was going the fuck on and he wasn’t yet in on it.

He rubbed his eyes. Did these motherfuckers
like
to have him fuck them up?

“What the fuck’s goin’ on with you motherfuckers? Why all you assfucks fuckin’ lookin’ green?”

Before anyone answered,
Love in an Elevator
by Aerosmith blared through the room and relief swept Christopher’s entire body at hearing Megan’s ringtone. About. Fucking. Time.

“Megan,” he growled by way of answer, “where the fuck you been, baby? Why the fuck you ain’t called me all day?”

“Christopher, I’m sorry to disturb you,” she responded, sounding as down as he felt. “I know I promised the guys I wouldn’t disturb you, but I-I miss you.”

“What the fuck you talkin’ about, baby? What the fuck you promised the guys?” And why the fuck was she just telling him now? Unless…Christopher narrowed his eyes at his boys.

Val choked and Mortician’s dark brown skin turned ashen.

“They…I…we wanted you to enjoy yourself without—“

“Been through this shit. Don’t fuckin’ need to go through it again. That don’t have fuck all to do with some fuckin’ promise.”

She went silent and Christopher waited, knowing only moments stood between him and the fucking reason she’d jetted on the spur of the moment. She sighed. “The boys asked me to leave and I promised them I would and not disturb you today but—“

“Come fuckin’ again?”

Judging by Johnnie’s disgust, Christopher guessed he hadn’t encouraged Megan to leave. The other fucks, though?
Those
fuckheads shifted and looked between one another.

“Them fucks told you to do what?”

“I think I left some bitch behind—“ Digger began, creeping away.

Rocketing from his seat on the edge of the bed, Christopher grabbed Digger by the scruff of his collar and halted him, but his heart and his head was settling now that he was talking to his wife. He guided the man to the chair near the bed and shoved him down.

“I miss you so much. I shouldn’t have listened to them. I knew it was a mistake from the moment the flight took off. There was…Mama…“

He’d hear about whiny Dinah in a fucking minute. At the moment, he wanted the fucks to hear his girl’s voice, so when he fucked them up, they’d be fucking clear about why. “Wait, wait, baby. I gotta put you on fuckin’ speakerphone, okay? I need a fuckin’ drink.” Truth. He also needed his fucking fists free. “Repeat what the fuck you said. I wanna make fuckin’ sure I heard you right.” Setting his phone down and tightening his hold on Digger, he glowered at Val and Mortician, daring them to move. “Now, talk to me. Tell me a-fuckin-gain why you fuckin’ left.”

“Christopher!”

Unable to stop himself, he smiled at the exasperation in Megan’s sweet voice.

“I’m trying to tell you what Momma—“

“Don’t give a fuck about that right now. I wanna hear—“

“Fine,” she said with a sniff. “Val, Digger, and Mortician didn’t think you’d enjoy your bachelor party as much if you had to worry about me and CJ. I know I promised them I wouldn’t disturb you until tomorrow, but I really missed you.” She paused and the sounds of his mini-me reached him. She was cooing to his boy, fussing over the baby just like she fussed over him. He could see her now. Opening her bra and pulling her delicious tit out, guiding his son’s little mouth to her nipple. His dick swelled just as she spoke again. Hearing her voice beaded his cock with pre-cum and he gritted his teeth. “CJ has been really fussy,” she went on. “I think he misses you just as much as I do.”