Misfit (Death Dwellers MC #6) (87 page)

“Sign on the dotted line,” Kendall said a week later, sliding the contract to Fee, then handing a copy to Cash and Stretch as they sat in front of her desk in her home office. She’d come a long way from the woman who’d blackmailed Fee to decorating her house and opening her doors for Cash and Stretch’s wedding. “You’re now equal partners of Misfit, LLC.”

Fee drew in a deep breath and penned her name with a flourish. She had another announcement to make, but she’d wait until the end of the ceremony. Their families were in attendance. Meggie, Zoann, and Bailey had cooked a shitload of food that was set out on folding tables in the room, since everything would take place here.

Stretch set his pen aside. “Done.”

“Everyone happy and satisfied with the terms?” Josh called, munching on fried pickles.

“Fine time for you to ask,” Cash grumbled, laying his pen down.

“Be nice, son,” Jocelyn admonished, making the tips of Cash’s ears go red.

“Can you move in with us, Jocelyn?” Stretch asked. “Keep Cash in line.”

Georgie scoffed. “Nothing keeps my brother in line.”

“Can we fuckin’ get on with the weddin’?” Christopher asked.

“I’m with Christopher,” Johnnie inserted. “The sooner the marriage takes place, the sooner we can drink and smoke.”

Father Wilkins cleared his throat as Fee got to her feet. She stopped herself from pressing her hand to her belly. That would be theatrics at this point since her pregnancy was so new. It would also give her away.

“Are you two ready?” the priest asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Cash said. “I can’t believe I’m doing this shit.”

Fee couldn’t either and she had to stop herself from falling into peals of laughter at the irritation on Cash’s face.

“It won’t be so bad, my love,” she promised.

“Whatever. Come on, Woo Woo,” Cash said in the same tone he’d spoken in for the past five minutes. “Ready to make an honest man of me?”

“You’ll be making the honest man of me, asshole,” Stretch retorted, as handsome as Cash in his tuxedo with the royal blue bow ties that matched Fee’s dress.

She stood on tiptoe and kissed Stretch and then Cash. “You’re making honest men of each other.”

Over the past days, they’d reached a lot of decisions and compromises. While Fee had always wanted to be married, what she wanted most of all was love, and she’d found it with two handsome, loving men.

Two men who’d been in a relationship before she’d come along, just as she’d said. She loved them too much to deny them this. Their company would tie the three of them together legally. The baby she carried would give her ties to whoever it belonged to, since they’d reached the mutual decision that it belonged to the three of them. Cash had been at Stretch’s side through thick and thin and Stretch had loved Cash long before Fee came along.

“Got the rings, Fee?” Cash asked.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s get to it, please,” Father Wilkins said briskly. He was attired in a similar fashion as he’d been at Digger’s wedding.

He’d balked the loudest, but Fee was realizing that the club could get him to agree to anything if the price was right.

“I have music,” Meggie announced, holding up her phone.

“Fuck music, Meggie girl, as long as you got my drink,” Mort said.

“Look, fuckheads,” Cash snapped. “I want some fucking class at my wedding.”

“Stretch,” Georgie started, “since your mother wouldn’t have come even if she’d been invited, we decided I’ll walk you to Cash and give you away, since your husband-to-be wouldn’t let Jocelyn do it.”

“That’s
my
mother,” Cash said.

Christopher tipped his flask back. “Your ass sound like my boy, assfuck.”

“Where do you think I got that from?”

“I miss lil’ dude,” Digger said. “Let’s get him from the nursery so he can join us.”

“After the ceremony,” Meggie said.

“Come on, you two. I have something to say,” Fee said, “As soon as you’re pronounced husbands.”

“Lemme guess,” Christopher said with sarcasm. “You knocked up.”

Fee frowned. “How’d you guess.”

Christopher scowled. “Cuz you got a pussy and they got dicks and this a baby factory ‘round this motherfucker.”

“You are, Fee?” Stretch whispered, his eyes wide.

She nodded, glaring at her brother for ruining her announcement.

“While motherfuckers blabbin’ shit, I gotta say something,” Christopher said, nodding to Meggie, who grinned and stepped next to him. He pulled out a piece of paper along with a photograph and handed it to her.

Meggie came to Fee and handed her what turned out to be a deed to land and a photo of the very clearing Fee had been coveting the day she and Kendall first went to naked yoga. Her, Cash, and Stretch’s names were listed as owners. “This is our wedding present to you, Fee. For your house.”

“Oh my God!” she cried, handing the deed to Cash and hugging Meggie. “Thank you so much.”

“Ahh, fuck, princess,” Cash said with regret. “I…my savings…it’ll be at least a year or two before we can build.”

“No, it won’t,” Georgie input. “Sloane and I will have your house built as our wedding present.”

“No.”

Cash’s one word fell between everyone like a shard of ice.

“Fuck no,” he added.

“If Stretch wasn’t looking forward to marrying you, I’d deck you, asshole,” Josh snapped as Georgie’s face fell.

“But—”

“No, Georgiana,” Cash shouted. “You’re not building me a fucking house. That’s past the fucking limit. What the fuck do you think I am?”

“An ungrateful motherfucker,” Stretch said with exasperation.

“A dead, ungrateful motherfucker,” Sloane barked. “This gift isn’t up for negotiation. Georgie wants to build you a fucking house. You’re getting the fucking house, McCall. If you ever fucking raise your voice to her again, you’ll also get a fucking spot in the cemetary.”

Christopher smirked. “See, motherfuckers? I ain’t the only fuckin’ Pyscho Stalker Wildman ‘round this motherfucker.”

“Fuck off, Sloane,” Cash said. “I can talk to her anyway I damn well please. She’s
my
sister.”

Sloane stepped in front of Georgie as if Cash posed an imminent threat to her. “She’s
my
wife and if you don’t talk to her the way
I
approve of, I’m going to push your tongue through your cock before I wrap it around your fucking head.”

“Fuck, Sloane, you come up with some good ass ideas,” Christopher said.

“Really, motherfucker?” Cash argued.

Sloane started forward.

“Wait!” Jocelyn cried, running to her son. “I have an idea.”

“If it involves Georgie buying me a house, Mom, forget it.”

“It doesn’t,” she said quickly, then beamed a smile at Fee. “It involves Georgie buying Ophelia the house.”

“Mother…” Cash began.

“Hear me out, son. Fee’s having a baby. She shouldn’t have to worry about this project with a small child underfoot, which, according to you, will be when you’re about ready.”

“We in all this together,” Cash grumbled. “If her name’s on it, then me and Stretch have to be included.”

“May I say something?” Kendall asked and Johnnie tensed, nervous even now.

“Go ahead,” Fee said. She couldn’t make the situation any worse…well, she could because it was Kendall, but she was behaving.

“Why don’t Georgie give the house as a gift?” Kendall started. “Then, when Cash has the money, he pays half back to her? That way both of them will be appeased.”

Cash and Stretch exchanged looks, then nodded.

“We’re all agreed?” Jocelyn asked.

“Yes,” Georgie, Stretch, Cash, Fee, and Sloane chorused, like preschoolers.

“Thank God,” Father Wilkins said with exasperation.

Cash swept her into his arms. “Are you happy, Fee?”

“Yes, very,” she answered.

“We have to celebrate our new house and our new baby.”

Father Wilkins cleared his throat. “After this wedding, if you want me to preside.”

“If you ain’t fuckin’ presidin’ you givin’ me my fuckin’ money back or you gettin’ fucked up,” Christopher told him, sucking on his teeth, and glaring at the priest.

“Get on with it,” Stretch said, hiding a grin at the priest’s glower.

With love flowing between them, Fee stood at the altar with her two men, knowing she had a lifetime of happiness ahead and a life that would be never boring.

“Be careful, baby,” Christopher moaned, flinching even before Megan laid the ice pack against his cock. Two days after his vasectomy, his dick still fucking ached. When the pain passed, he’d consider the dick snip worth it.
Now,
though, he could do little more than lay the fuck around and keep his cock still.

After applying the ice, Megan sat next to him on the sofa in their bedroom and laid her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head.

“Are you sure you did the right thing?”

“You been askin’ me that for fuckin’ weeks, Megan,” he snapped. One fucking week, to be specific. Ever since he’d announced he’d scheduled the procedure, the Monday after Cash’s wedding. The year he’d promised her hadn’t gone by, but he couldn’t delay. He didn’t want Megan to end up pregnant again. It didn’t matter that she’d had two successful pregnancies after the placenta stuff. To Christopher, carrying a baby always risked her life. “Even if I wasn’t okay, the shit too late to fuckin’ change. My dick fixed up.”

She shifted against him, twisting her wedding set. “Um, yeah. About that.”

“What the fuck about that? Ain’t nothin’ can be done now, so there ain’t nothin’ more you can say.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “Another baby wouldn’t have been bad.”

He hugged her. “Megan, if you woulda wanted ten kids before you lost Patrick and got so injured, we woulda had ten fuckin’ kids. But, baby, ain’t nothin’ reliable.”

“Vasectomies can fail, too.”

“I know,” he said, the pain and this conversation irritating him. “Only way I know I ain’t gettin’ a baby in you is to stop fuckin’ you. That ain’t ever gonna happen. Even if I gotta pump my cock to get it the fuck up. Take fuckin’ pills.
Whatever.
That mean comin’ in you. Your pills failed and we got Rebel and Rule. You got fucked up and couldn’t take the motherfuckers and here come Ryder. This the only way.”

More twisting of her wedding set, her actions raising Christopher’s curiosity.

“Okay, baby. Spit it the fuck out. Whatever the fuck it might be, just fuckin’ tell me.”

“I’m five weeks pregnant,” she mumbled, so low Christopher almost missed her words. Another shift and throat clearing. “I’m having another baby.”

Well, fuck.

Leaning back, Bunny watched the rays of the setting sun glimmer off the water, seeming to lose itself in the trees and vegetation in the near distance. It was quiet and peaceful on the island, a far cry from the hustle and bustle of a connected world. Here, in Fiji, where Mark took her, Bunny had nothing to worry about—not money, WiFi, cleaning, laundry, or kids.

They had two days left until they returned to civilization, then she’d have another week before she returned to work.

“Bunny, girl, Bure Mama about to leave.”

Elenoa had taken care of them from the moment they’d set foot on the exclusive island. Everything Bunny did for Meggie, and more, Elenoa did for her.

“You need something or can I tell her to go for now? I’m having her ass come back in a couple hours after our pontoon dinner.”

“I’m fine,” she said, wanting to kiss every inch of his physique, so finely displayed in a pair of athletic shorts and nothing more. He’d put his locks in a man bun, showing off his handsome face and hoop earrings, thanks to both ears now being pierced. Full sleeves covered each arm and when he turned, he had the club name and emblem tatted on his back. “So are you,” she added, winking at him.

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m not going back to her ass. She come looking for me and she’ll see me pumping between your pretty thighs.”

“That can be arranged, once you see her out.”

Digger grinned. “Be right back, girl.” True to his word, he came back in less than five minutes, the alarming disappointment on his face hard to miss.

Bunny sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“Bure Mama said we need to get to the food. It’s already been waiting for us for fifteen minutes.”

Elenoa always put her heart and soul into their meal, so Bunny didn’t want all her hard work to go to waste. “I promise my thighs will open as soon as we get back to the bure.”

“That’s a fucking deal.”

Getting to her feet, Bunny wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and kissed him. “Hmm,” she whispered. “Elenoa is lucky she’s so sweet and such a good cook.”

“My ass sweeter,” he shot back, chuckling at his intended double entendre.

Laughing, Bunny kissed him again, wrapping her legs around his waist when he lifted her and carried her the short distance through the water to their waiting pontoon. Tea candles surrounded the table and two chairs. Although the pontoon wasn’t big, it was large enough to hold a table with dishes of squash and chana dhal, palusami, and homemade bread topped with grated coconut.

The grog Digger had been drinking almost since arriving awaited him in a coconut shell. Bunny wanted a taste so bad, but she refused to risk her baby for a sip. Mark promised he’d take bring her back for their one-year anniversary.

As she settled herself in her seat, Digger prepared plates for them, then set her napkin in her lap before sitting and doing the same for himself.

“What up, girl? You seem like you a million miles away.”

Bunny tasted her non-alcoholic punch. “This is so nice. All of it. From the service to the food.”

“If you like this, then when we get back, I’ll look into getting you a staff.”

Pushing her glass aside and picking up her bread, Bunny thought about the best way to ask this, then decided to just forge ahead. “How much money do you have now?”

“You mean how much we got?”

She nodded, touched by his determination that she consider his money hers. Legally, she knew it was, but his money didn’t matter to her.

“A fucking lot. More than we can spend in our lives. A lot of that shit dirty fucking money. Sharper probably ran it through the church to holy it up to forgive the way he got it through peddling girls. Me and Mort setting up a foundation in our mama name, and donating a lot of money to…I don’t fucking know. We got a financial advisor and shit. Mort such a stingy motherfucker. He’d set up the foundation, then ban any of us from spending. Motherfucker know that shit, too. I intend to do for you what he doing for Bailey.”

“What is he doing for Bailey?”

“Assuring that she don’t fuck him up when she want to buy something.” Drinking some grog, he waved. “This money talk. Let’s wait until we get home and I promise I’ll tell you all about it. Let me know how many motherfuckers you want working for you. Ten? Twenty? You still want to live in our postcard house on club grounds?”

“You’ll still be in the club, right?”

“Fuck, yeah! Just ‘cause I got more money than I know what the fuck to do with, don’t mean I’m a different motherfucker. I’m investing some of the shit. Stuff like that, so my dumb ass don’t fuck up money like I did before. I’m going to see if Outlaw want another bike. He kind of married to the one he got. He love that motherfucker, so maybe he don’t. I’m tricking mine out.”

“You’re giving up the one we rode back to the club on?” She was rather sentimental about that bike.

“Fuck no! I’m just putting the club emblem on it. Making it a little stealthier. That’s about it. If you learn to ride, after our kid born, me and you can have matching bikes.”

“I’d love that!”

“Then that’s what the fuck we’ll do.”

“As to living in our postcard house—” Her dream cottage surrounded by an English garden—“I haven’t changed either. I want the house we’re building, where we’re building it.”

“Cool with me, although we can have like six servants tops. The thing not even two thousand square feet, Bunny.”

“I know, but I like cozy. You saw where I grew up at.”

“Okay, so a housekeeper, a nanny, and a cook sound good?”

“If I have servants, then it’ll look funny taking care of Meggie’s kids,” she mumbled, afraid he’d tell her she couldn’t work.

Sometimes, her life with Trader came back to haunt her. Mark was as different from Trader as night was from day. With her, Mark was kind, considerate, and gentle. He wouldn’t disparage any of her ideas or ignore anything she needed or wanted. She’d wanted to keep Trader happy out of fear. She wanted Mark happy of her own free will and to reciprocate his actions.

“You want to fucking still work for Meggie and Prez?”

Bunny squirmed. “I want to talk to Meggie about investing in the company. I love kids, Mark. I’d miss CJ—and the other kids—so much. Meggie would never let me work for her without payment, but if I had a small interest in the company, then we could have a happy meeting of the minds.”

“Bunny, baby, as long as you happy, I’m behind you one hundred percent. You and Meggie would be lost without each other. The happier you is, the more pussy I get.”

Throwing her napkin at him, she laughed when he ducked. “I love you, babe.”

“I know. I’m a lovable motherfucker.”

“You’re awful!”

“I’m just kidding. I love you, too, Bunny. I intend to lay the world at your feet. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

Unable to stop her tears, Bunny jumped to her feet and skirted the edges of the pontoon. Unprepared for her to launch herself into his arms, Digger reared back. Together, they plunged into the sea, the cool water hitting them and shocking their systems.

“This fate, baby,” he said, kissing her face and carrying her onto the sand. “We supposed to fuck tonight. Not eat.”

Bunny grinned. “You’re right. Who am I to mess with destiny?” she asked, allowing him to bring her into the bura for a long night of hot sex.

“Ashfuck Dig!” CJ called as he skipped into the clubhouse with Outlaw right behind him. The kid ran to Digger and held up his little fist. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, kid,” Digger responded, bumping his fist against CJ’s.

“Yo,” Outlaw greeted, taking his seat in his usual spot at the corner table, while CJ climbed into the empty seat closest to his father.

“How the honeymoon went?” Outlaw asked, leaning back.

“Got pussy galore,” Digger said, wondering where he’d be without his beautiful wife. He hadn’t wanted kids or a woman, then he’d found Bunny and his entire outlook changed.

“How the fuck that’s different from all the fucking you and Bunny do anyway?”

Digger sniggered. “Fuck, thank God for girls and their pussies. I’m not too sure where the world would be without the softness of a woman.”

“No-fuckin-where,” Outlaw said. “Most motherfuckers’ cocks was just made for women pussies. Case fuckin’ closed, brother.”

“When I’ma have a cock, ‘Law?”

Outlaw and Digger exchanged looks.

“You already got a cock, boy,” Outlaw answered. “You was born with one.”

“You and MegAnn, too?” He frowned. “Where’s MegAnn’s cock?”

“Girls don’t got a cock, lil dude,” Digger answered, wanting practice for his own kids when the time came to answer these types of questions. “Girls got pussies.”

“Okay,” CJ responded with a nod, grinning.

“Your woman here,” Outlaw announced nodding toward the door.

“Bun-Bun!” CJ cried, scrambling off the seat and barreling to Bunny.

She was so fucking gorgeous in some type of flowy dress that wrapped around her neck and tits with a swirling skirt and geometric print. Digger felt like the luckiest motherfucker alive to have her as his woman and he straightened with pride and love as CJ returned to the table, holding Bunny’s hand.

“She all mine for one more day, kid,” Digger told him.

His little face fell and he released Bunny’s hand. “’Kay.”