Misfit (Death Dwellers MC #6) (45 page)

Christopher studied her, then nodded. “This motherfucker got a last name?”

“Carson.”

“Address?”

She didn’t know specifics, only that he lived close to the neighborhood bar. Close to Cash. “Let me handle this, please.”

“Fee—”

“Please, Christopher,” she begged. “I swear if I need your help, I’ll come to you.”

He sighed, but relented, leaning down to pull her into an awkward hug. “I know you a grown bitch, Fee. My ass just hate to see you so fuckin’ hurt.”

“Then stay the fuck out of her room, Outlaw.”

Straightening, Christopher cocked his head to the side. “Lemme ask you, Fee. You think psycho cunts know when they pushin’ a motherfucker? Cuz I know one fuckin’ crazy bitch I’m about to pull my piece on and blow the fuck away.”

“You wouldn’t dare while I have Johnnie’s baby inside of me.”

“Megan upstairs with Ryder. Ain’t a motherfucker around stoppin’ my ass from shootin’ the fuck outta whoever and hangin’ them by their big fuckin’ toes in the fuckin’ meatshack.”

“Is that what you did to Daphne?” Kendall yelled, not getting a clue that Christopher was reaching the end of his limit. Besides, he hadn’t addressed Kendall directly.

“C-can I talk to Kendall alone?” Fee asked, before things got worse.

Christopher grunted, glared at Kendall, then stalked away.

The moment he left, Kendall came to Fee’s bedside and sat, taking her into her arms. “I knew those assholes were no good for you.”

“Meggie told you about the argument?”

“Oh please. Meggie is too busy giving my husband advice to talk to me about anything. Me and Johnnie were at the club last night when Mort came in. He mentioned Meggie had brought you to the house because you had an argument with a friend. Johnnie might’ve bought it, but I knew immediately.”

“I see.” Fee sat up, forcing Kendall to release her. “You’ve come to blackmail me again?”

Lowering her lashes, Kendall settled her hand on her stomach, showing the slightest hint of a bump. “Will you ever let me live that down?”

Tears welled in Fee’s eyes again. “You hurt me. Now you’re here for whatever reason.”

“To console you. I swear. You came to me after Daphne’s death, when you didn’t have to. It showed me a lot, Fee.”

As much as she wanted to, Fee wouldn’t easily trust Kendall, so she shrugged and leaned toward the tray, smiling when she noticed two aspirin on a napkin. She did have a splitting headache.

“Do you want the tray?” Kendall asked.

“Yes.”

After taking the aspirin, Fee piled pillows behind her and settled against them.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Maybe, she was being unforgiving and mean, but she had enough to worry about. She didn’t need to concern herself with Kendall taking Fee’s confidence for granted and using it at her whim. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Kendall’s shoulders slumped. “Fine, Fee. Have it your way,” she said bleakly.

Her ringing phone prevented a response. She knew it wasn’t Cash or Stretch because it wasn’t either of their ringtones. The number didn’t register, so she let it go to voicemail.

“Kendall, I’d really like to be alone.”

“Fee, you look horrible. If I leave you alone, you’ll cry yourself into a pathetic stupor that only days of sleep would help.”

“Bye, Kendall,” Fee snapped as her phone beeped, alerting her to a message.

“Aren’t you going to check that?”

Though she wasn’t particularly curious about her unknown caller, Fee decided to take Kendall’s suggestion.

“Hello, Ophelia. This is Noah Carson. Give me a call.”

Fee gasped.

“Is there a problem?”

“Have you ever heard about strange coincidences?” she asked, disconnecting the call.

“Haven’t we all? For instance, the car belonging to James Dean, the 50s movie star—”

“I know all about the cursed car, Kendall. I’m not talking about that,” Fee said with irritation. For a woman into classical music, legal briefs, and prestige, she mentioned pop culture at the most inconvenient times. “I mentioned Noah to Christopher and he called me. I don’t remember ever giving him my number.”

Kendall flushed. If Fee didn’t know better, she’d suspect Kendall was somehow involved. Crap! Now she was stereotyping the woman and, maybe, it was unfair. However, she’d stay on the side of caution and be wary of Kendall’s tactics.

She rubbed her head. “I guess I did if he’s calling me.”

“That’s probably it, Fee. Or, he got it through the grapevine. For instance, I have the code to get into the house because of Johnnie. Outlaw wants his boys to be able to get to Megan if she’s in distress. Therefore, we wives have it, too. It could be something as innocent as that.”

So that’s how Kendall let herself in this morning. “True. But everyone isn’t meant to use that code.” Even Fee knew that without being told. “I wouldn’t advise you to make a habit of walking into Christopher’s house unannounced and uninvited. You might be mistaken for a home invader and you know what happens to them.”

Kendall brushed over Fee’s warning with a shrug. “What did Noah want?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. Neither was she interested in finding out.

Getting to her feet, Kendall smiled. “Call him, Fee,” she suggested. “I know you’re hurt, but you’ve wasted enough of your life on two undeserving assholes. You want a family. You’re not getting any younger, so it’s time to find a man who’s willing to make your dreams come true. You owe it to yourself. Now, I have to head home to put on something more appropriate than yoga pants and a t-shirt. Charlotte and I are meeting for brunch.”

That news ruined Fee’s morning all over again and she spent the rest of the day in bed.

Day four after the breakup brought overcast skies that matched Stretch’s mood. He couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been to stick with Cash and then to agree to keeping Fee.

Pressing the remote to close the gate behind a woman there to meet with Bunny for whatever, Stretch limped back to the seat Outlaw made an exception for him to have. He rarely manned the gates nowadays, allowing other brothers to take over the responsibility in his stead while he moped about.

In that, Cash had been right. But what did the motherfucker expect him to do? Jump for fucking joy that he’d lived? Forget Hanson’s horrible death? Stretch’s biggest fear was recovering and
forgetting
the pain and suffering. What would be the point of Hanson’s death then?

What would be the point of his life? If he hadn’t meant anything to anyone else, he’d been something to Stretch.

When he thought about it, life was pointless. He couldn’t take anything with him when he died. Stretch didn’t even know where the fuck he’d go. Heaven? Hell? A black void?

Instead of spouting all her bible verses, his mother should’ve taken the time to explain that to him. No one said a fucking thing that she’d used him to ease her grief, stuck in the land of the dead, while they wanted him to be in the land of the living. His dad, miserable motherfucker that he was, died in his fucking sleep.

Hanson had been murdered.

“Stretch?”

Johnnie’s call broke into his thoughts. He didn’t want to talk to any of the guys, but most especially Johnnie. He was married to Kendall. Alerting her to their secret affair had been the beginning of the end for Stretch, Cash and Fee.

It had been hard enough for Cash to commit without Fee stealing their hearts and ruining Stretch’s life more than it had already been.

“Christopher’s looking for you. He’s been calling you on your phone.”

Stretch left his phone in his room. After the first day with no call from Fee or Cash, he didn’t want to keep the phone with him, hoping it would ring.

“I’m on gate duty.”

“Wrong, motherfucker. If you don’t get the fuck up and walk your ass into the club, Digger will be on death duty. Yours. You should’ve answered your fucking phone.”

“I don’t have it with me, Johnnie.”

Johnnie grabbed Stretch’s cane from the ground and held it out to him. “What’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?” he asked with resentment, grabbing his cane and coming to his feet with no small amount of pain.

“You know what the fuck I’m talking about. What has you in such a shitty mood?”

“Cash,” he grumbled, knowing Johnnie would understand.

“I see.”

They reached the clubhouse door. “What do you see? That Cash is an asshole?”

“I see why Cash hightailed his drunk ass out of town two days ago.”

He’d done what?

Stretch glanced at Cash’s bike, sitting in its usual spot in their line of wheels. He’d thought they were avoiding each other. It hadn’t occurred to him that Cash had left.

“Is he coming back?”

“That’s what Christopher wants to know.”

“How should I know?” Stretch shouted, drawing the attention of patrolling probates.

Johnnie’s eyes glinted. “Strike two, motherfucker. I don’t need to tell you the meaning of strike three.”

“Sorry, John Boy,” he mumbled.

“Christopher is also suspicious that Fee’s devastation has to do with whatever’s going on with you and Cash.”

It didn’t matter. If Outlaw found out, he’d put Stretch out of his misery.

Stretch stepped into the clubhouse, without answering, and headed to Outlaw’s table, where the guys sat, while Meggie cleared away lunch dishes.

At his approach, Meggie smiled at him, her gaze taking him in from head-to-toe, her concern touching him as she scampered away, her hands full.

“Fuck me,” Outlaw growled, and nodded to one of the three empty chairs.

Mort and Val didn’t say a word as both Johnnie and Stretch took their seats.

“What the fuck goin’ on, Stretch?”

Stretch lowered his gaze. Fee wouldn’t want him to bitch out and commit suicide by Outlaw. Wait a fucking minute. He didn’t give a fuck what she wanted. Right? “It’s over between Cash and me.”

“It’s always over between you two motherfuckers,” Val pointed out.

“Yeah, Stretch,” Outlaw agreed. “What the fuck different now?”

Fee.

“Everything,” he snapped, missing her as much or more than Cash. She’d given him the respect he hadn’t felt he deserved in months, if ever. “Cash is an asshole.”

Every time he spoke Cash’s name, thought of Fee’s voice, his heart twisted.

“You fuckin’ my lil’ sister?”

“No.” The lie came easy, automatic. Instead of guilt at telling a blatant untruth to his prez, Stretch felt nothing. “Why?”

“You sounded a little irritable, son,” Mort said, lighting a cigarette. “Talking really sharp to Prez.”

“You should’ve heard how he spoke to me,” Johnnie announced, not in the kindest way.

Four pairs of eyes lasered him, and Stretch flushed, the dire situation breaking through his anger, hurt, and upheaval.

“Cash still fuckin’ Fee, yeah?” Outlaw asked. “He broke it off with you and her, huh?”

Elbows on table, Stretch cradled his head in his hands. “Fee has nothing to do with this. If she’s going through something, we have nothing to do with it.”