Misfit (Death Dwellers MC #6) (37 page)

“You know what?” Fee jumped to her feet, overwhelmed by the ease in which Cash locked her out of his life. She searched for her purse. “Fuck you. I don’t need this. You’re so right. It was quite easy to say those words. Too easy.”

Seeing her purse on the shelf near the door, Fee hurried to it. She scowled at the metal detector that Cash used before he allowed new people into his house. It showed the depth of his trust issues.

“Fee, I don’t want you to leave,” Cash said, from his spot on his chair. “I’m trying to open your eyes.”

She whirled to face him. “By throwing all these roadblocks at me?”

“You wanted honesty. I’m giving it to you. Or was it only for you and Stretch?”

“It was for all of us, so we could work through our insecurities and mistrust.”

Cash drank from his bottle for the countless time that night. “Work through this. I don’t always want to fuck both of you. Sometimes, I only want you and other times I only want him. Not all the time, but it does happen. Before either of you give me fucking bullshit, be honest with yourselves. Think about when I went to the kitchen. Tell me you couldn’t have ended up giving Stretch pussy if I wasn’t here. Then tell me you still wouldn’t want us to be together. That
you’d
see nothing wrong with fucking him without me, and swear it didn’t change your feelings for me or the desire to fuck both of us at the same time.”

At the time, she hadn’t thought about sex with Stretch, but she’d felt so at ease with him, if he’d wanted her, she wouldn’t have denied him. Afterwards, she would’ve still expected things to go on as normal. Nor would sex with Stretch alone had changed her feelings for Cash.

“Where’s your fucking logic? You two live on emotion,” Cash continued. “You don’t reason shit out, which inhibits your objectivity and rationality. Both of you believe love conquers all. I don’t.”

Stretch shifted in his seat. “You’re right, Cash. I could’ve made love to Fee, without you, and I wouldn’t have felt any differently about our relationship.”

Fee’s body flushed at Stretch’s admission. “We’re playing by your rules, Cash. You threw us together and we’re just adapting.”

“That’s one of the biggest fucking lies you’ve ever told yourself.
I
threw you two together, but if
we
aren’t all attracted to each other individually, and as a triad, then it wouldn’t work.”

“I didn’t know how deeply I was attracted to him without you, until that day in the park. Before, you encouraged it or I was trying to get a reaction from you.”

The admission sounded awful.

Instead of censure, understanding lit Stretch’s face. “Don’t feel bad, Fee. That day in the park was the first time I wanted to be with her for her. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Unlike the other times me and Stretch were together,” she added, all their admissions weaving their bonds ever closer. “What now?”

Cash sighed. “What else do you want me to say, Ophelia? That I’m willing to stay in our relationship, for as long as I can? As long as Outlaw doesn’t find out? I am, but the longer you’re with us, the more you’re going to want.”

“Kids can be easily solved,” Stretch said hesitantly. “She could have a baby for me and one for you. They’d be half-siblings, but still related. Outlaw would beat us within an inch of our lives and kick us out the club, but if we went that far, I don’t think we’d be so quick to throw each other away. But, sweetheart, I agree with Cash about the wedding stuff.”

“We could always go through the motions of a wedding but don’t sign the license.”

“I’m willing to do it, if it makes you happy,” Stretch said, “although I don’t understand your reasoning. The point of marriage is for legal reasons.”

Cash threw them a dirty look. “She wants a ceremony because she’s a typical woman. To protect all of us, we could form a legal partnership. A corporation or an LLC.”

Fee stared at Cash.

“Don’t get fucking ideas,” he snapped. “We’re just talking.”

Only talking or not, Fee’s hopes soared. If Cash had thought it—said it—then there was a chance he’d one day agree to it.

“I’m willing to give us a chance,” Stretch went on. “We don’t have to let anyone know now. Let’s really get to know each other before we decide if we’re going to face the world.”

“See, Woo Woo? I knew you had some sense in that head of yours,” Cash chortled.

“Asshole,” Stretch gritted out. “Stop calling me that.”

“No.”

Setting her purse aside, Fee returned to her spot next to Stretch. “Why do you call him that, Cash?”

“He lives with his head in the clouds most of the time,” Cash answered without apology, as if he wouldn’t give up his nickname anytime soon.

Fee rolled her eyes. “You’re so juvenile.”

Cash and Stretch snickered.

After they quieted, Stretch thought for a moment. “I’m going to head out. So, um, yeah.” Standing, he swallowed. “You two enjoy your evening.”

Fee never would’ve believed there’d come a day when she felt so confident in the relationship not question her place in both their lives. Tonight, cleared up a lot. “No, stay. We need each other tonight.”

“Are you sure?” Stretch asked. “You don’t just want Cash right now?”

“No,” she said firmly. “I want both of you.

“And we both want you.” Cash stood. “Come on, sweetheart.” Taking her hand, he guided her to his bedroom.

In the room, Cash ravished her mouth as he unbuttoned and removed her top. His tongue deep in her mouth, Cash rubbed his hands over her belly. As he did so, Stretch grabbed her waist and kissed her neck, unhooking her bra with skill.

The moment her breasts were bared, Cash bent his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Fee leaned against Stretch, the brush of his lips and glide of his hands combining with Cash’s tugs on her breasts and his fingers dipping underneath her skirt and into her panties, empowering her.

If Fee ever doubted her decision to be with Cash and Stretch, being the center of their attention removed the any remaining reservations.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” Cash swore harshly, abandoning her to tear off his clothes.

She dropped her panties and skirt. “We’re going to fuck each other all night.” Turning, she saw that Stretch had removed his cut and shirt, leaving his pants on as usual. “Take them off.”

His fingers went to his zipper, then he sighed and shook his head. “I can’t, Fee.”

“Okay,” she agreed, respecting his decision.

Her request dented his desire and, instead of resuming his caresses, he hobbled to the edge of the bed and sat. She followed him, hugging him to her breast. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered. “Your limp doesn’t take that away from you.”

“The skin is scarred from the surgery and the damaged muscle makes me look like a freak. It isn’t pretty.”

She silenced him with a kiss. The more Stretch focused on his injury, the more self-conscious he’d become.

Cash lifted her hair to run his mouth along her shoulder blades. “Lay on the bed, Fee, and hang your head over the side.”

Stretch moved out of the way, so Fee could crawl onto the bed and follow Cash’s orders. A moment later, Cash settled himself between her thighs as Stretch positioned himself so she could blow him. The head of his cock touched the back of her throat and Cash sank into her. She groaned around Stretch’s dick, loving the feel of his hot, hard length gliding against her tongue.

Cash pressed into her, sliding to her entrance and slamming into her again, stretching her pussy, over and over again. She wrapped her arms around each of Stretch’s jean-clad thighs, speeding up her sucks to the pace of his thrusts. He came with a loud grunt, filling her mouth and breathing harshly.

When he backed away from her, Cash pulled his cock out of her, grabbed her ankles and dragged her up.

“That was so fucking hot,” he murmured, sinking into her again and erasing all other thoughts from Fee’s head.

The ringing cellphone pulled Stretch out of a deep sleep. He opened his eyes and darkness greeted him. It was the middle of the fucking night! Blinking, he wondered if he’d dreamed the sound that awakened him.

The phone started ringing again. Not a dream, then. Snatching it from his nightstand, he looked at the screen and frowned. The familiar number was burned into his memory. The word
Dad
glared at him from the screen, like an omen. He hadn’t heard from his parents in years.

Swallowing his trepidation, Stretch answered. “Dad?”

“Louis?”

His mother’s wobbly voice came through the line. Stretch sat up, feeling around until he turned on his lamp.

“Mom.” The last time he’d seen her came to mind. Once he patched in, he’d called his parents to give them his updated number. She’d never once called him as he recuperated, leading him to believe she hadn’t kept his contact information. “What’s up? Is everything all right?”

“Oh, Louis.”

Pain and grief resounded in her tone. “What’s happened? Is everybody okay?”

One other person in his family mattered—his father. All the others could fuck themselves.

Mom released a sob. “It’s your father. He’s gone. Dead.”

His father couldn’t be dead. They hadn’t made up yet. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s dead!” she shouted around tears. “He’s cold.”

“What?”

“I woke up and he was cold, dead next to me.”

Stretch hobbled to his feet, ignoring the pain in his leg to hurry where his jeans where on the floor. “Call 911!”

“You have to come and help me.”

“I’m over eighteen hundred miles away. Even if I get a plane, it’ll be hours before I arrive. Maybe, a day or two.”

Why was she calling him? She had her brothers, his father’s brothers, the men who’d taken turns beating the fuck out of him and pinning him with the name
faggot
. Besides, Dillon and Uncle Harry lived in Kansas City, too. She could’ve easily called them.

“Please, Louis. Please, come. Everybody’s gone.”

Shit, what was he thinking? His mother needed him. She’d reached out, so he couldn’t ignore her.

“The bible says
honor your father and mother and your days shall be long upon the earth
.”

Stretch didn’t want to hear anything about the bible, so he ignored her quote. If he got her started, she’d never shut up.

“He’s dead!”

“Fuck, Mom. Call 911. You can’t keep Dad’s dead body next to you.”

A heartbroken sob greeted him.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Blasphemer!” she wailed.

“I’m going to call you back. Okay? Hang up so I can call an ambulance. There might be something that can be done to save dad.” Not if he was cold, but he kept that to himself.

“Okay,” she agreed through her tears.

He disconnected and made the call for an ambulance, giving the address to the house he’d grown up in, the one he tried not to think of after what took place during his last days there. Before he called his mother back, he dialed Cash’s number.

“What the fuck you want at three eighteen in the fucking morning?” he growled in greeting.

“I have to go home, Cash. My father. He’s dead.”

“I never met the motherfucker and I can’t stand him. After the way you were treated, you don’t have to go anywhere.”

“My mother called me. She needs me.”

“She needed to stick by you! Fuck, I can’t believe her.”

“I have to go.”

Cash growled. “You’re not obligated to do fuck all for her. Don’t let her bullshit get to you.”

“You don’t know her!”

“Thank fuck!”

“Asshole, this woman gave birth to me.” If Cash had no family loyalty, that wasn’t Stretch’s fault. Still, he wanted to try and get his point across. “She baked cookies for me.
I
disappointed
her.
”

“You’ve suddenly developed a switch to turn off your homoflexibility?”

“Shut the fuck up, Cash. I don’t need your shit or your politically correct terms.” Of all the times Cash chose to go PC, this was the wrong fucking one. “I’m not looking for your fucking approval.”

Those words rang with truth, startling Stretch. When had he stopped seeking Cash’s approval?

Fee’s lovely face rose in his head. The choice she’d given him,
them
, empowered him. Their conversation had been revealing and healing. Her fairness boosted Stretch’s confidence.

“If you would’ve called either of those motherfuckers, they wouldn’t have been receptive to you,” Cash continued.

Stretch couldn’t deny that. “I know.”

Cash sighed in irritation. “My words are falling on deaf ears so you have my sympathy, babe.” He spoke grudgingly. “Call me and let me know what’s going on.”

“I will.” After hanging up, he dialed his mother’s number. By now, EMTs were on scene.

“It’s too late,” she sobbed. “Your father’s dead.”

“Mom, I’m coming as soon as I can. Call Uncle Harry.” The worst fuckhead in the world. “Until I get there. You can’t be alone.” Later, he’d find out why she hadn’t called his father’s brother in the first place.

“Can you call him?”

“No.” It didn’t matter how overwrought his mom was, he wasn’t subjecting himself to his uncle’s abuse, sooner than necessary. “I’m sorry.”

The call dropped. Or his mother hung up on him. He’d prefer to think it was the former, instead of the latter. After dressing, he called Cash with an update, then telephoned Fee.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can,” he told her.

“We’re here for you,” she swore. “
I’m
here for you.”

One thing Stretch was realizing was they each needed to have separate relationships with the other for their triad to work. If they got along as couples, then all else would fall into place.

“I know.”

“Do you need me to do anything?”

He wished she could go with him, but he wouldn’t place that burden on her. This trip would drain his savings and he only had his ticket to buy. The cost of last minute airfare was ridiculous. If he invited Fee, he’d want to buy hers.

After hanging up with her, he dialed Outlaw’s number. “It’s four-thirty in the fuckin’ mornin’,” he yelled. “What the fuck you want, motherfucker?”

“My dad’s dead.”

Long moments of silence before Outlaw sighed. “I ain’t sorry. He was a motherfucker. He wanted you to fuckin’ die of your injuries, Stretch.” Another sigh. “Gimme ten minutes. I’m headin’ to the club.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I do, so shut the fuck up. You woke me the fuck up when you coulda fuckin’ waited, so you musta fuckin’ wanted my ass there.”

“Okay,” Stretch mumbled.

Ten minutes later, Outlaw and Meggie arrived just as Stretch entered the main room. While Meggie made coffee, Outlaw sat and talked to Stretch, and arranged airline reservations.

Stretch pushed to the back of his mind that he’d made love to Fee the night before, knowing of Outlaw’s rule, and now watched as the man helped him without second thought. Now that he’d gotten in so deep with Fee, Stretch would have to address his secrets sooner or later.

Only, he didn’t know if he could. He’d either have to give up Fee or leave the club to escape Outlaw’s wrath. Either way, Stretch would lose. Maybe, he’d even have to give up Cash.

What would happen to him then?

As the time drew near to leave, Stretch decided to consider his relationship later. With his father dead, he hoped he and his mother could reconnect.

Shame and guilt rushed through him at the thought. He’d never wanted anything to happen to his dad. He’d just wanted respect and understanding for the person he was.

Swallowing, Stretch decided to push those thoughts away, too. They’d only bring him down. His dad was dead. He’d never have the chance to make up with him.

Back in his room, he tried both Fee and Cash, but neither of them answered their phones, so he left messages for both of them, ignoring his disappointment. Cash was allowing his disapproval over Stretch’s decision to stop him from being a friend. He hoped one of them would return his call, but neither of them did. At three o’clock, he grabbed his bag to head out. The time to head to the airport neared.

Hoping he hadn’t forgotten anything, Stretch flipped off his light, then locked his door and headed to the main room, surprised to find Mort, Digger, Johnnie, and Val there. Still no Cash, though.

Mort held out his hand. “Sorry about your old man.”

“If you need to talk,” Digger started, biting into a cinnamon roll and licking the sugar from his fingers, “hit me up on the phone, bro. I can show you a few moves to dance on his fucking grave.”

“Have some class, fool,” Mort snapped.

“We danced on Sharper graves, Mort. Most of them anyway from where we buried the pieces Johnnie gave to us after he finished making fish food in the chipper.”

“Boring shit,” Johnnie complained. “That meant nothing without participating in fucking him up.”

They all sniggered.

Val clapped Stretch’s shoulder. “Let us know when services are. If it’s a few days from now, we could blaze down there to support you.”

“Only if my ass goin’ to spit the fuck on his fuckin’ grave.” Outlaw looked at Stretch. “You ain’t obligated to go.”

“Cash said the same thing,” Stretch admitted.

“Cash is right,” Johnnie said. “You owe your family nothing.”

“I owe them me,” he reminded them. “Without them, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Listen up, Stretch,” Outlaw started as Meggie walked in from the kitchen and distracted him. She carried a plate of crackers to the bar, went back into the kitchen, and returned a moment later, guiding Kendall to a stool.

“Potter, get Kendall a 7-Up,” Meggie instructed.

“Sure thing,” the Probate responded.

She smiled and waved to Outlaw. The place was relatively quiet. Stretch was grateful. He didn’t need a bunch of motherfuckers he didn’t trust, in his business.

He trusted Cash and the men who surrounded him. No one else.

Meggie and Kendall engaged in a low conversation. It surprised Stretch that neither Outlaw or Johnnie interrupted.

“This pregnancy is hitting Kendall hard,” Johnnie confided on a whisper. “She doesn’t have morning sickness, but she’s miserable.”

Val sidled Kendall a dirty look, one they all saw, including Outlaw.

“What the fuck goin’ on now?” he asked.

Johnnie flushed and looked away. Val shoved his hands in his pockets. Mort shifted and Digger scratched his chin.

“Kendall’s pregnant,” Johnnie said. “Need I say more? Their dinner party could’ve been better.”

It was clear not only Johnnie, but the other men had also heard about the dinner party at Fee’s. Only Meggie and Outlaw were clueless. Stretch winced, watching Meggie care for Kendall.

“Keep your woman in line,” Outlaw warned. “Then your dick. Get it fuckin’ snipped like my ass soon doin’.”