Misfit (Death Dwellers MC #6) (91 page)

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Val joked as Johnnie walked into the living room where him, Digger, Cash, Stretch, and Diesel waited, along with someone else. Brooks.

Christopher growled. “What the fuck you doin’ here?”

The attorney raised his hands defensively. “Meggie,” he said quickly. “She asked me to walk Kendall down the aisle. I wanted to refuse. Please believe me, but she reminded me that Kendall sees me as a father. Meggie swore you wouldn’t hurt me, Outlaw.” Swallowing, he looked at each of them. “None of you.”

“Megan some-fuckin-how got your bitch in the wedding, too, yeah?” Christopher guessed.

Refusing to meet Christopher’s eyes, Brooks stared at the floor. “For what it’s worth, Charlotte apologized to Meggie.”

Christopher drained the rum from his flask. He’d been very generous, sharing it with Johnnie and Mort. “Lemme fuckin’ guess. My girl accepted your bitch boo-hoo sorryness?”

Brooks nodded, ignoring Christopher’s glower, although he paled.

“We not able to fuck Brooks up, then clean up the blood, Prez,” Mort said. “Meggie girl’ll be pissed if you fuck up all her hard work.”

“You know what’s going on?” Johnnie asked. Mort knew a helluva lot about Kendall and Megan, almost as much as he knew about Bailey.

“Fuck, Johnnie, yeah. Prez got me on her detail.”

“Even when I didn’t have you on her goddamn detail, you know what the fuck goin’ on with my wife, motherfucker.”

“We’re in the house of God’s messenger,” Father Wilkins said tightly. “Please refrain from the language.”

“As usual, Wilcunt, you mess up a good thing, goin’ from fuckin’ Jazzman back to your bitch-ass priestiness.”

“Christopher!” Johnnie said in outrage as Val winced and Mort said, “damn, Prez.”

“C’mon, let’s get the fuck to the church,” Christopher ordered. “I’m fuckin’ ready to be the fuck out this motherfuckin’ monkey suit.” He stared at Brooks. “You better hope your bitch don’t fuck up. I killed
my
old man at
my
wedding for fuckin’ with Megan. You know what the fuck I’m gettin’ at.”

“Charlotte will be perfect,” Brooks said quickly.

In silence, they walked across the garden to a side door at the church. When they reached the building, only Johnnie and Christopher continued to follow the priest. The others branched off, heading toward the entrance. Johnnie supposed they were part of the ceremony.

Inside, Johnnie stopped, shocked at the simple beauty of the white and turquoise décor and filled seats. A lot of his brothers and their old ladies were there, dressed in their cuts. Bailey’s sisters and brother. Three of Charlotte and Brooks’ children. Doctors’ Hughes and Wills. Bunny’s parents. Some of Kendall’s socialite friends. Members of Phoenix Rising, although he didn’t see Georgie or Sloane Mason.

Only then did Johnnie pick up on the sound of
piano
music, and glanced in the place where the organ usually stood. Sloane sat at the piano, playing Canon in D, along with two women, one playing the harp and the other the flute.

Seeing Johnnie, Sloane acknowledged him with a nod and continued playing.

People near and dear to both Johnnie and Kendall filled the church to capacity. Choked up for the first time in a while—if ever—Johnnie continued on to the altar.

Father Wilkins beamed at him, obviously in on the plans. Johnnie wondered how much the priest had pocketed this time around, to allow the secular music.

“You have the rings, right?” he asked Christopher, searching for a way to get control of himself.

“Yeah, motherfucker,” Christopher answered, forever the same.

Two minutes later, Potter and another Probate, wearing white gloves, tuxedoes, and motorcycle boots, opened the door, two old ladies of their brothers whispering to Matilda and Ryder and pointing to where Johnnie and Christopher stood.

Wearing a satin and lace dress, Matilda was almost the spitting image of Kendall, with her mass of red curls and big, brown eyes. Johnnie’s heart swelled with pride at the sight of his daughter. Next to her, Ryder was adorable in a tuxedo, a smaller version of what the men wore. Looking at him, Johnnie understood why Kendall had gone off the deep end. From afar, the little boy resembled Johnnie more than Christopher. Understandable, since Ryder was Johnnie’s blood nephew. Up close, Ryder had green eyes, like Christopher, but paler.

So busy contemplating the two cousins who’d been born hours apart, Johnnie almost missed as the women started down the aisle with them as they looked all around. Before Fee could catch him, Lou, Mort’s thirteen-month old son, toddled down the aisle.

Everyone laughed, although the kids were oblivious. Next, came Devon, hands in pockets, and smiling as he marched like a little soldier toward them, just as Matilda, Lou, and Ryder reached Johnnie and Christopher.

Johnnie lifted his baby girl into his arms and kissed her cheek.

Once Devon reached the halfway point, Rule appeared with Bryn Mason. The raven-haired daughter of Sloane and Georgie wore a dress, almost identical to Matilda’s. As Devon made it to the altar and Rule and Bryn were at the halfway point, Ryan started down the aisle, looking more and more like Val as the days passed. The kids seemed to have finally fallen into rhythm. Golden-haired Rebel started down the aisle with Chance Mason, both of them grinning with confidence.

“Hurry up, Elle,” CJ called from the doorway, standing next to Harley, who held a basket overflowing with petals.

A crown of roses wreathed her head, as both she and CJ bounced with energy.

Fee pointed to the altar, whispering to them. Once Rebel and Chance sat on the bench with the rest of the kids, CJ pulled Harley forward, making her stumble. Scowling at him, she elbowed his side. In response, he grabbed a handful of her rose petals and took an exaggerated stride forward.

Harley giggled, and followed CJ’s lead, throwing the petals—up into the air, instead of on the ground.

“Between us, there’s twelve children,” Johnnie said to Christopher, including Sloane’s kids in that number, as Rory appeared in the doorway.

“We been doin’ a lotta fuckin’, John Boy,” Christopher responded. “Megan, Fee, and Bunny pregnant. If you wanna count Patrick and the two babies Kendall lost, that’s about eighteen lil motherfuckers.”

“Fuck, a goddamn tribe.” Setting Matilda on her feet, Johnnie watched his son march to him, holding himself perfect, looking neither right nor left, as Fee closed the door again. He was so proud of Rory, his
son
. He would’ve had another son if Kendall hadn’t lost their last baby. A moment of sadness hit him, but he pushed it aside, grateful for his family. “We’re lucky motherfuckers, Christopher.”

“Yeah, John Boy.”

Rory and Matilda were the only kids standing at the altar. The others had sat on the first row of seats. As the kids arranged themselves, several additional musicians joined Sloane and the two women.

While the band played a piece Johnnie recognized as a Handel arrangement, Potter opened the door again. Wearing a tulle gown, Charlotte looked dignified as an usher escorted her to a seat, usually reserved for mother-of-the-bride. She’d lost a lot of weight, but she still had that air of superiority. He supposed she’d take that to her grave, which she’d soon be introduced to if she fucked with Kendall’s head again.

The procession continued, and Johnnie grew more anxious to see Kendall. Other than hearing that squeal, he had no indication if they’d achieved her dream wedding or not.

Cash and Stretch escorted Fee down the aisle, followed by the recently married Bunny—obviously pregnant—and Digger. Next, came Bailey and Mort. Zoann and Val. Georgie Mason and Diesel. Megan…all the women were dressed in the same style and color gowns, everything matched and color coordinated.

All the men headed in his direction, while the women went to the other side. Right before the door closed, he heard Kendall sob.

Various scenarios running through his head, Johnnie intended to rush to her.

“Wait, Johnnie,” Megan called.

“Something’s wrong…” Johnnie trailed his voice off at the opening of the door.

“Fuck, man,” Mort whispered.

“Mama!” Bailey said, bursting into tears and hugging Meggie.

In the doorway stood Roxy, gorgeous in a dress similar to Charlotte’s but the color of the bridesmaids. She’d always had long hair, but now it was close-cropped, just growing out as she recovered from her chemotherapy.

“Kendall’s maid of honor,” Megan said, from across the aisle.

“Fuck, Meggie,” Val sniffled. “You making grown motherfuckers cry.”

More than one sniffle came from Johnnie’s side of the aisle. Across from him, the girls were openly crying.

“Glam-Ma!” Harley squealed, bounding from her seat and rushing to Roxy, who was walking down the aisle, smiling at her granddaughter.

Mort broke rank when his daughter and mother-in-law got to the front. “C’mon, Roxanne, I’ll take you to your seat.”

“You touch me, Magician, and I’m fucking you up. I’m here for one of my babies. No fucking way I’m sitting my ass down.”

“She back, Mort,” Christopher said, laughing at Mort’s glare.

“Fuck, man. I’m trying to treat you like a bitch who just had cancer and you acting all normal and shit. Calling me out my name to try and piss me off. Not working. I don’t want to cause you to have a—”

“Psst,” Zoann called. “Get back in formation, Antichrist. You’re fucking up Kendall’s wedding.”

Roxanne went to the side with the girls while Mort stomped to an empty chair, got it, and brought it to her, pointing.

She flipped him off.

“Madame, please,” Father Wilkins called, nodding to the crucifix behind them.

Roxy slapped Mort’s hand. “Then tell this motherfucker to leave me alone!”

“Roxy!” Megan cried, as the doors opened and Sloane and the mini orchestra started the grand notes of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March. Everyone stood.

Kendall appeared with Brooks at her side and everything else became white noise to Johnnie. Wearing a silk and chiffon wedding sheath, Kendall was stunning. A glittering tiara held her veil in place. It covered her face and hair, but Johnnie saw her hold tighten on Brooks and knew Kendall was nervous.

Finally, she reached Johnnie.

“Who gives this woman in marriage?” Father Wilkins asked and looked at Brooks expectantly.

In turn, Brooks looked toward all the women.

“We do,” they chorused, and Kendall burst into tears.

Brooks looked at her and lifted her veil, kissing her cheek, just as a father would.

“You’re well loved, my dear. Remember that and be happy.” He turned to Johnnie and held out his hand. “Take care of her.”

“Always,” Johnnie responded, taking her trembling hand into his own and raising it to his mouth to kiss it. “From the moment I met you, gorgeous, you were mine. Never doubt that and never forget that.”

As he led her to stand before the priest, Kendall whispered, “We’re having another baby.”

He grinned at her, happy at her news but also, “Always having the last word, Attorney Donovan.”

She giggled. “Always, my love.”

Serendipity had brought her to Christopher five years ago.

Thinking about the first time she’d ever gazed at her husband, Meggie watched Dr. Will glide the transducer over her belly to discover the sex of her new baby. Thanks to Thomas Nicholls, Meggie had run for her life. Run to her father. Instead, she’d met the man who’d come to be her everything. Her friend, lover, protector, the father of her children, and the man of her dreams.

Who could’ve foreseen that Thomas’s actions—Meggie’s decision—would’ve started a domino effect that revealed the evilness lurking within the club? That evilness had killed her father, mother, mother-in-law, brother, sisters-in-law, and nieces by marriage. Not to mention bringing down Sharper Banks and his mega church.

That night, when fate had intervened and had Christopher saunter into her life, Meggie didn’t know that
she
had been the key to so much. Daddy had been dead a year, but the club had been broken, warring within. Those against Christopher had worked to resurrect Logan Donovan, who, in turn, had brought in Cee Cee Caldwell. They were two of the vilest men who’d ever walked the earth.

Meggie hadn’t known it then, but
now
she knew they’d been after her. Big Joe had made it to where he controlled the money so he’d controlled the men. Except, her daddy had put the place housing money and drugs in Meggie’s name, unbeknownst to her.

With his death and her chance meeting with the man who’d killed him—the birth of that man’s son—Meggie had almost been responsible for everyone’s downfall. But she’d survived and become stronger for it.

Her man, her
Christopher
, opened her eyes to a whole new world and gave her life new meaning.
Thank you, Daddy.
No one but Big Joe could have led them to each other. Of that, Meggie felt certain.

“Are you ready to find out the sex of your newest baby, Meggie?” Dr. Will asked, serene in her own pregnancy. Her long braids were up in a ponytail, her brown skin glowing with health and happiness.

Her nurse, Viola, handed her another container of gel.

Meggie was beyond thrilled for her OB. Babies were such awesome little beings.

“Wait, let me call Christopher.” He was at home with the kids. With Bunny pregnant, she wasn’t feeling well, so he’d changed plans to accompany Meggie and turned into babysitter for the day. She pressed the number one on her phone. “Hey.”

“Hey, baby.”

His voice came loud and clear. Until the day she died, his sexy timbre would affect her. Into eternity, she’d adore and cherish Christopher. “Dr. Will is about to tell us the sex of the baby.”

She wanted another girl. Her and Rebel were sorely outnumbered by all the testosterone in the house. This was her last chance to rectify that.

“Ready?” Dr. Will asked.

Viola smiled between them.

Swallowing, Meggie nodded. “Ready. You, Christopher?”

“Yeah, as ready as my ass ever fuckin’ be.”

“You’re having another boy, Meggie,” Dr. Will said gently.

Viola patted Meggie’s arm.

“Oh.” She didn’t mean to sound so disheartened. The most important thing was the health of the baby, not the sex.

“Told you, baby,” Christopher said, his smug grin obvious even through the phone. “Patsy was a fuckin’ nice name, but we gotta go with the boy one now.”

Meggie smirked at the phone, her disappointment evaporating. She already had a lot of boy clothes and boy toys. She’d give Rebel her own room, decorate it in her daughter’s favorite color of pink, then move Rule in with CJ and have Ryder and the new baby share a nursery. “I have a boy name.”

“Paul. Like we fuckin’ discussed, yeah?”

She grinned. “Nope.”

“What the fuck you mean? It was gonna be Patsy for a girl and Paul for a boy, since I banned the fuckin’ letter ‘R’ from your fuckin’ vocabulary.”

“The new baby’s name will be Ransom,” she said with a little sniff. “Anyway, the boys are calling Rebel ‘El’, so…”

“So you tellin’ my ass we gonna have CJ, Rebel, Rule, Ryder, and Ransom?”

“I guess,” she said, her glumness returning. She should’ve left well enough alone, instead of stopping her pills the day she’d gone to the consultation with Christopher about his vasectomy. Given her actions, he had every right to ban a name starting with ‘R’. “Um, we can name him Paul.”

Christopher sighed. “Fuck, baby. He comin’ out your pussy. Name his lil’ ass rattlesnake for all I give a fuck.”

“Okay.”

“My new boy healthy, yeah, Doc?”

Clearing her throat to contain her laughter, Dr. Will said, “Yes. Very.”

“I ain’t even gotta ask about my girl,” he said. “I already know if she wasn’t, you woulda said upfront.”

“You bet.”

“Oh, yeah, Doc, Megan told me you knocked up, too. First baby. Congratu-fuckin-lations.”

Dr. Will smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Caldwell.”

“Tell your old man, congrats, too.”

“I’m not with him any longer,” the doctor confided. “He left when I told him about the baby.”

“Fuck, babe. Gimme his name and shit. I’ma fuck him up just for you.”

“Omigod, Christopher,” Meggie screeched. “You can’t do that.”

“The fuck I can’t. I owe Doc Will. She been at your side since CJ. She saved your life. That make her one of us. If a motherfucker fuckin’ with her, he gettin’ fucked up. Case fuckin’ closed.”

“Goodbye, Christopher,” Meggie hissed, disconnecting before her husband said another incriminating word. It didn’t matter that the doctor was aware of Christopher’s activities. This was her baby’s father he was threatening. “Don’t tell anyone what Christopher said. Please,” she added, as the doctor finished the ultrasound and Viola handed Meggie a towel.

“I say let Mr. Caldwell wipe his ass off the face of the earth,” Viola harrumphed.

“Viola!” Dr. Will snapped, her eyes widening in shock.

“Sorry, Dr. Will,” the older woman said. “That was unprofessional of me. I didn’t mean to overstep my bounds. Mr. Caldwell’s just so…so
real
he makes a body forget where she’s at.”

Dr. Will nodded. “I understand. Just don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Viola hastened through her tasks, then bid Meggie farewell until her next appointment.

“If you have any questions or concerns before you see me again, don’t hesitate to call me,” Dr. Will said.

Meggie got up from the table and pressed the number eight, Mortician’s speed dial number, to let him know she was ready to head back to the club. Her guard detail rotated as usual, although Johnnie was still excluded. Every time Val’s turn came around, Mortician made sure to be there, too, but Meggie was finally feeling comfortable enough with him again to go back to one-on-one.

“See you soon,” she told the doctor, then paused. “Would you like to come to dinner one evening? There’s a couple of single members I could introduce you to.”

“No. I’m fine.”

Right. Not every woman fell apart in the face of having a creep for a man.

“If you ever change your mind, you have my number.”

“Roxy has already introduced me to someone, Meggie,” Dr. Will admitted sheepishly.

“Roxy? Bailey’s mom?”

“Your husband isn’t the only one I have to answer to in that club. She takes her role as
club mother
seriously. Over the course of the months, we’ve become friends.” Dr. Will grinned. “Mr. Caldwell was a few weeks late in his offer. Roxy has offered to, er,
cut the bitch
on my behalf.”

Meggie giggled. “Always remember. We take care of our own.”

“Christopher? Wake up, Christopher. It’s time to go.”

At the sound of the man’s voice, Christopher opened his eyes, torn between hot and cold, searing pain and sweet peace.

“Christopher!”

Blinking, Christopher glanced around and frowned in the direction of Big Joe. A golden aura surrounded Boss, gleaming against the foggy, gray backdrop. In the distance, long shadows hovered, while a small boy with black hair grinned at him, white robes glimmering from his body.

“Come on. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

Christopher squinted, searching for Megan, but not seeing her.

“You’ve done your job. Took care of my little girl. It’s time to come with me.”

Fuck! Was he motherfucking dead?

As if he read his mind, Big Joe nodded, his face full of life and health, not at all the gaunt shell he’d been in the weeks before his death.

“Come on, boy,” Big Joe demanded again, when Christopher just stared, seeming unable to speak.

Definitely dead, then, and without his girl. Where was she?

“Alive,” Big Joe answered, reading Christopher’s mind. “With Johnnie.” Clapping Christopher on the back, Big Joe smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “You don’t remember anything?”

“Fuck all,” he snarled, finding his voice again, surprised when Big Joe started fading.

“Christopher?” Megan called.

“You here with her,” Big Joe said, nodding behind Christopher, ignoring the sound of his baby girl.

Christopher turned, his gaze falling on a frowny-faced Kendall. Blood seeped from the wound at the side of her head, dripping down her bloodless skin.