Misfit (Death Dwellers MC #6) (48 page)

“Fuck, you a fucking fool?” he growled, remembering Roxanne saying similar words, then shoving that thought away to focus on Mort. “Megan would wanna fuck me up for even saying that shit. She sure the fuck ain’t tellin’ me to kill that cunt.”

“I know she wouldn’t say that. Fuck, only Chester and Red cutthroat like that.”

“And Roxy,” they chorused, then laughed like fucking lunatics at that lame shit.

“What the fuck you mean then?”

“Red pregnant again, so you and Meggie girl going to be her targets. You sure you not wanting to fuck up Red because of that?”

“Who the fuck know? Deep down, fuck, yeah, since she ain’t actively fuckin’ with my girl, right now. I just was thinkin’ about Johnnie though.”

Mort studied him with curiosity. “Prez, don’t take offense at what I’m about to say, okay?”

“What, motherfucker?”

“Since when you say about?”

“Since my boy startin’ to quote me. My kid gotta…he gotta be everything I ain’t."

A shadow loomed against the wall, and Christopher glanced over his shoulder as Digger strolled in.

“What the fuck going on in here?” he asked, stopping on the other side of the table and leaning against it. “We rolling out for a pickup? Need a grave?”

“Don’t sound so fuckin’ hopeful, motherfucker,” Christopher ordered, as Val appeared. “Fuck all goin’ on. We just sittin’ in here remi-fuckin-niscin’.”

“Hey,” Johnnie called from behind Val.

Christopher stood. “All right. Let’s get the fuck to the clubhouse.” He wasn’t allowing this motherfucker to get crowded if they didn’t need to be in the place.

“Bunny knocked up,” Digger said as they stepped into the dull day. Rain was on the horizon, but for now the sun shone. “About six weeks. She all worried because she been drinking.”

Mort grabbed Digger in a headlock. “About time you do something constructive with your cock.”

Digger jerked out of Mort’s hold and jabbed his shoulder. “Fuck off, fool.”

Christopher clapped Digger’s back. “Congratulations, motherfucker.”

“I can’t wait until your sleepless nights of changing diapers and feeding babies,” Johnnie added.

“Unless my tits suddenly get milk, I’m not feeding kids.”

“Since when you got tits?” Val asked.

“Since I decided not to have breasts, fool,” Digger retorted.

Johnnie grinned. “Why not mammary glands?”

“Man boobs,” Mort said, picking up on the teasing.

“Testosterone tatas,” Val declared.

“Cha-chas for cocks,” Christopher said.

“Led Zeppelins,” Val went on.

Johnnie cuffed the side of Val’s head. “Do
not
disrespect one of my favorite bands.”

“Your woman got the big titties, Johnnie.” Val rubbed the side of his head. “You should be happy that we can combine her huge tits with your favorite band.”

“You don’t notice Kendall’s tits, motherfucker,” Johnnie ordered, cuffing the other side of Val’s head.

“You pissing me the fuck off,” Val yelled, feeling the newest spot Johnnie hit. “Stop hitting me. Only Outlaw get to do that.”

“Peep this, Johnnie,” Digger started. “You don’t notice nothing about Bunny?”

“Or Bailey?” Mort asked. “Your fucking tongue hit the bar when K-P first brought Bailey to the club.”

“Yeah, and let’s not forget Meggie.” Val either ignored Christopher’s sudden frown or didn’t see it. “You was pissed for years because me, Mort, and Digger saw her pussy out and you didn’t. Nothing helped until you got to see her naked, too.”

Growling, Christopher swung his fist against the side of Val’s head, not fazed when he slumped to the ground. The other four motherfuckers decided to look anywhere but at him. “Why the fuck this motherfucker always bring up Megan pussy?”

Christopher turned, almost colliding with Fee as she walked toward the clubhouse.

“Hey.” She scraped her fingers along her head, her severe ponytail drawing her skin tight. “I was visiting Meggie and Zoann and…” Her voice trailed off and she stared away.

Pretending to look over Fee’s shoulder, Christopher watched her body droop and followed her line of vision, seeing Stretch heading toward them. The closer Stretch got, the more she wilted. When he finally reached them, he greeted each motherfucker, including Val, who staggered to his feet just as Stretch reached them.

“Ophelia.” Stretch’s mouth was so tight he barely got her name out.

“Hello.” Lips turning down, she lifted on her tiptoes and kissed Christopher’s cheek. “I have a date later tonight, so I have to run.”

“A date?” Stretch echoed, before Christopher said a word, exposing more than he fucking realized. “With who?”

She scowled at him. “Noah Carson.”

“The same motherfucker that had you fuckin’ cryin’ your fuckin’ eyes out? Why the fuck I ain’t knowin’ you back with him til now?”

“You can’t have it both ways.” Tears glistened from Fee’s eyes and she glared between him and Stretch. “You talk about stuff being bitch shit. My dating life definitely falls under that category. Bitch shit isn’t your forte. It’s Meggie’s. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get home.”

Without another word, she stomped past them and headed to her car. Stretch didn’t even try to hide his anger any longer. Whatever had happened between the three of them had been fucked up and traumatic. He’d have to trust that Megan had this, and that it was completely over.

Fee had a way of involving herself with fucking assholes. If this Noah motherfucker was a real motherfucker, like it seemed, the way he’d fucking hurt Fee didn’t sit well with Christopher.

“Find out where the fuck my sister goin’, Stretch,” he ordered.

“You need me to follow her?”

“Yeah, and if this motherfucker ain’t right for her, bring him in.”

Noah fucking Carson. The motherfucker Fee met while she was on a date with Stretch and Cash. Not only had she ruined their relationship but she now betrayed them with a motherfucker Stretch had taken an immediate dislike to.

How fucking dare she!

Furious at Fee’s deceit and hating her a little more because he missed her so much, Stretch hung in his room long enough for Outlaw to clear the premises. He didn’t want to run into the man with a full hour passing. Stretch hadn’t been looking for motherfucking Noah Carson. He’d been in his room fuming and watching until Outlaw left.

The moment he did, Stretch headed to his bike. Destination: Cash.

He wasn’t sure why he wanted to tell Cash who Fee had a date with. Yesterday afternoon, Cash had returned from wherever the hell he’d been, without explanation…Fuck. When had Cash ever explained anything to Stretch?

He should call him. On the other hand, Cash would see Stretch’s number and send the call to voicemail
and
Stretch had to clear his jealous rage away. The open road was cathartic for him. If he’d never been able to ride again, he might’ve lost his mind.

Seeing Cash’s bike in the driveway of his house as Stretch arrived at the house gave him pause. He turned in behind Cash’s motorcycle.

They’d ended on bad terms, unlike any of their other breakups before. Further, Cash had been determined to keep their relationship a secret, so he wouldn’t care that she had involved herself with another motherfucker.
That
motherfucker especially.

Stretch couldn’t put his finger on what he so disliked about Noah.

Cash’s door opened, and he stepped outside in all his shirtless glory.

“You ringing the doorbell or what, Woo Woo?” He drank from a bottle of bourbon and narrowed his eyes. “Your cycle’s not exactly quiet.”

“Stop calling me fucking Woo Woo,” Stretch growled, deciding to take the argument inside. He might’ve been paranoid but he felt as if eyes and ears were everywhere. Leaning on his cane, he stomped ahead of Cash and into the house. “I’m tired of fucking telling you that.”

“Then stop saying it because I don’t intend to stop calling you that.”

Without waiting for an invitation, Stretch went to the living room and sat on the sofa. The same one he’d sat on when Fee had given him the choice. At the time, he’d mistaken it for power and respect.

“What are you doing here?” Cash asked, sitting in his favorite chair.

The usual line of beer bottles was missing from the table. Cash had moved to harder stuff.

“Fee is dating again.”

A look too fleeting to identify and too intense to ignore crossed Cash’s face. “And?” he rasped after a moment. “She’s a woman. She has needs.”

That’s the part that was killing Stretch. Her needs being met by someone else. “Don’t you give a fuck?”

That look reappeared and disappeared like a flash of lightning. He shrugged. “Does it matter if I do? Does it matter if
you
do?
She
made the fucking choice to walk away.”

Wrong.
“She made the choice to end the three of us. You made the choice to end you and I.” Pain and bitterness welled within him. “Because of her.”

Cash drank again. “Tell me this, Stretch. If you see you and I being happy without her, then I’m willing to go forward with you this moment.”

Stretch heart sped up at Cash’s words, his future suddenly not so bleak. Cash would be in his arms again. In his bed. He’d never gotten out of his head and heart. Knowing that Cash was willing to reconcile made Stretch giddy.

Fee’s image rose in his head and intruded on his happiness. The time they’d spent together in Kansas City, and her consideration of him from the moment she’d decided not to compete for Cash, sent aching despair tumbling through him.

Goddamn her. His relationship with Cash had been conducted in secret out of necessity. Different from keeping it from Outlaw, but just as dangerous if discovered. Why the fuck couldn’t she be satisfied with what they shared?

“You can’t, can you?” Cash asked softly, without a hint of arrogance. Just sadness. “Somewhere along the way we fell in love with her.”

“I love you,” Stretch admitted, then cringed, waiting for Cash’s retort.

He leaned his head back on the chair. “I love you, too, babe,” he said, fatigue curling around the words. “It took this fuck-up for me to admit it to myself. I can’t talk for you or how you feel about her, but I love her, too. I want what she wants. What you want. But I don’t want it the
way
you two do. Can you understand that?”

He’d be a cold motherfucker not to. He nodded.

Fee had gotten under Cash’s skin in a way no one else ever had. At one time, that would’ve affected Stretch in a negative way, but he even understood that. She’d gotten under his skin, too. Accepting him for who he was, as she had, made him feel a little less worthless.

“Tell me what to do.”

“I don’t know what to say, Cash.” If he had answers, he wouldn’t feel so miserable.

“I once told Fee that the three of us didn’t have to fuck together all the time. As badly as I want to take you into my arms right now and kiss you senseless, it doesn’t feel right.”

Once again, Stretch understood. The fabric of their relationship had been ripped apart.