Misjudged (Death Dwellers #3.5) (10 page)

Now, she was pregnant for Christopher again, sick, had just suffered at the hands of that fuckhead deputy, and, now…
this
.

“Meggie girl, where’s Bailey?” Mortician repeated, obviously not getting Christopher’s message to back the fuck off.

“They took her!” she cried. “Digger and a girl named, Peyton. These men were going to meet them, too. They were! But they didn’t know what to do with my body. They wanted to throw me out the window so you could find me and then they said it wouldn’t matter because you wouldn’t care because I was dead. They just wanted to get back to Sharper with Bailey so she could tell him about letters that K-P had because Sharper sent Logan letters from Big Joe after he got my daddy hooked on drugs and…and…and he…he had to kill K-P after he threatened to bring the whole thing down and…and…and th-they…th-they…h-he…” She pounded against Christopher’s chest, completely losing her shit.

Which was good cuz Christopher sure the fuck was about to lose his. Comforting Megan kept him sane.

Back the fuck up. Letters? “Fuckin’ Sharper sent that dirty, old fucker those letters pretendin’ to be from Big Joe?”

Mortician froze for a moment, before anger transformed his features. “I’m hitting the fucking road, Prez,” he said coldly, transforming from the man famous for his advice and one-liners to the man who’d helped clean up Big Joe’s brutal kills of those girls.

But, unlike then when Mort’s eyes were flat and dead, now they were lit with all kinds of emotions, fear for Bailey leading.

“Wait, Mort.”

The man didn’t stop, though.

Christopher set Megan on her feet and balled his fists at her watery eyes and swollen lips. Swollen from dick-sucking, but that wasn’t fucking important now. “Megan, go put cold water on your face and lie down on Bailey’s bed for a bit.”

She nodded and stumbled away from him, not looking at the bodies.

He glanced at Johnnie, who’d just walked back in. “Badges ain’t fuckin’ here yet. Don’t know when that shit changin’. We all gotta pull it the fuck to-fuckin-gether. I gotta get Megan out this motherfucker.”

“Okay. The brothers should be here any minute.”

Which meant they had to wait. Mean-fucking-while… “Call Kendall.”

John Boy narrowed his eyes. “Fuck off, Christopher.”

“Look here, Johnnie, I ain’t ever forgettin’ what she did and I ain’t lyin’ when I say I was intendin’ to fuck her up. If it ain’t for Kendall callin’ me, I wouldna fuckin’ been here to save my girl. Just when the fuck I think it’s fuckin’ safe for Megan, more shit go down.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “When we get back to the MC and after I cut my dick the fuck off, I’m makin’ it mine and every other motherfucker goal to not stress her the fuck out about anything until she get rid of this baby. One motherfucker stress her out and I’m fuckin’ killin’ you.”

“What do you mean until Meggie gets rid of the baby?” Val asked slowly, pausing in his task of directing the new arrival, Stretch, to start the clean-up now that the bodies were in morgue bags.

When had Val arrived? Fuck, what did it matter?

More important was…“Just what the fuck I said. Megan can hate me all the fuck she wanna. I prefer her fuckin’ alive and hatin’ on me than dead cuz I can’t leave her the fuck alone.”

“Fuck, what the fuck happened in here?” Arrow asked, walking in with Cowboy and Slipper following behind, dressed in uniforms with the name of a housecleaning service stamped on the left pocket, and carrying mops and buckets.

“For real, motherfuckers?” Christopher snarled, unable to believe his eyes at these brain-dead motherfuckers. “Eight o’fuckin’ clock on a Friday fuckin’ night you comin’ to clean a fuckin’ apartment?”

Arrow shrugged. “They liked the idea. Who the fuck am I to tell them don’t do it?” His mouth stretch into a thin line. “Where’s my niece? How is she?”

“Let’s talk, Arrow,” Johnnie demanded, ushering the man into the hallway as Cash McCall aka Ghost sauntered in. “Outlaw—“

He didn’t have time for this bullshit. “I need pills, Cash.”

“Pills?”

“Abortion pills,” Christopher snapped. Megan wouldn’t be fucking thinking clearly right now, so he’d do what he had to fucking do. “I don’t give a fuck how much—“

Ghost’s eyebrows flew up. “You creeping out on Megan and, now, you have some bitch knocked up?”

“Fuck you.” Did every motherfucker around think he was fucking other bitches? Had he been that fucking disrespectful to Megan? Fuck him, if all these motherfuckers thought that, what did his girl think? Nothing good, which meant he hadn’t fucking helped her state. Fuck, he’d make this shit up to her.
After
he fixed the latest fuckup he’d done by making her pregnant. “My wife expectin’, motherfucker, and I ain’t losin’ her. I’m gettin’ this baby outta her
and
I’m gettin’ my dick fixed.” He should’ve thought of the vasectomy the moment Dr. Will said it would be a risk for Megan to get pregnant again. But she kept him twisted in knots. All he heard from her was how much she wanted another one of his babies. Christopher wanted her happy, but she had to be fucking alive to
be
fucking happy. “Yeah, my dick gettin’ snipped. Already got the fuckin’ appointment.” And Megan would never know. “What the fuck ever they gotta do. I shoulda thought of that before.”

“Christopher?” Megan called from the doorway.

He glanced in her direction. Pale and frightened as fuck, he wrapped her arms around her waist, protecting their baby whether she meant to or not.

Fuck, could he do this to her? The only thing he’d ever lied to her about was the fact that she’d killed a motherfucker. She fucking thought Christopher had killed Traveler. That shit was fine. Megan didn’t need a murder on her conscience.

He looked amongst his brothers, just wanting to hold Megan. He wouldn’t put his dick in her again anytime soon, too afraid to do so. Her insides were already fragile with the new baby. “You assfucks know whatcha gotta do?”

Although he’d given all of them orders, the question was more for Cash. They nodded. What the fuck else could they do?
He
was their prez. Their allegiance was to him. No matter how fucked up his actions, he was doing it with the thought to protect his wife.

He reached Megan and kissed her, threading his fingers through her hair before wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly. “You havin’ another baby for me?”

Cash sent him a death glare while Megan nodded just as Johnnie walked in, his jaw clenched. There was no sign of Arrow, but Christopher would deal with that later.

“You happy, baby?”

Her fingernails dug into his biceps and she searched his face, almost dazed and trying to play off her feelings. Whatever they were. One fucking step closer to joining Kendall at that fucking psycho camp? Or would this new baby maybe help her mental state but fuck her up physically? She had to be happy, right? She’d wanted this.

At the moment, he needed her fucking happy over the baby to keep her mind off tonight, so he kissed her tenderly. “I’m fuckin’ happy.” He flipped off his conscience at the lie.

Megan pulled away from him and caressed his jaw, her blue eyes captivating him. “You’re happy?” she whispered.

He nodded and realized happiness really did infiltrate a tiny part of him. He just didn’t want to recognize it because he knew the outcome. Deep in his heart, he’d always grieve for his second boy. He and Megan had laid awake at night and felt the baby move. They’d talked about how CJ would be as a big brother. They’d even planned to have some kind of little gift for CJ when Megan got home from the hospital after giving birth, so he wouldn’t feel left out over everybody making over the new baby.

“I’m going to be fine.” She smiled, her eyes shadowed. “Tonight was so horrible. If you hadn’t come.”

If he hadn’t come, she’d be dead and…suddenly Christopher got it. Even from the grave, Logan fucked with him. The moment he’d decided to marry Megan was the moment Logan set out to destroy him once and for all.

Megan always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But the bullshit the club had dealt with since Megan and Christopher got together was related to the bullshit Logan had begun so many years ago.

Sharper hated Christopher, too, and that motherfucker still breathed.
His
death. Megan’s death. His boy’s death. That was their ultimate goal. Because Logan had detested him. For the simple fact that he’d been born.

Now, unwittingly, he’d pulled Mortician into it even more so than if he would’ve been involved as just one fellow brother and the club’s enforcer. It all made sense to Christopher now. The man at the helm…the one who’d manipulated everything to this point—Reverend Sharper fucking Banks. Mortician’s father and the man who’d had a connection to the club for
years.

Sharper wanted something. For some fucking reason, the assfuck thought Bailey had what he needed.

He hadn’t counted on Megan being there and he probably knew how closely guarded Christopher kept her. All secrets he’d learned from motherfucking Digger.

Just what the fuck did Sharper want? Christopher guessed it he’d finally found a way to avenge the money Mortician had stolen from him.

Or did it have something to do with K-P?

Either way, Mort was going headlong into a fucking trap. “Johnnie, Val, Cash, get the fuck on a plane and meet Mort in Cali. Get him the fuck back here.”

“He’s not going to come without Bailey,” Johnnie called.

“It’s a fuckin’ setup.”

“Setup or not for Mortician, Sharper will kill her.”

He looked at the ceiling and shook his head, thinking of how gorgeous Bailey was. Her black hair. Her pretty eyes. They lit up for Mort. When she talked about their baby, they grew soft and tender. “She probably already fuckin’ dead, Johnnie,” he said quietly.

Megan gasped. “Do you think…?”

“You Big Joe girl, baby,” Christopher interrupted, gliding his fingers through her hair and resting his laced hands at the base of her skull. “Remember what he told you? No motherfucker able to bring you down unless you fuckin’ let them. Don’t let what the fuck happen here tonight bring you the fuck down. Hear me?”

“What about Bailey? You think they’ve killed her? What will they do to Mortician when he gets there?”

He held her gaze. “Focus on the new baby in you, Megan. Can’t be worryin’ ‘bout this shit. When I say Bailey already dead, I mean once Sharper get her, he ain’t havin’ intentions of lettin’ her go alive. She not dead
yet
.”

“But—“

“You trust me, baby?” he asked, an unnecessary question. He already knew she trusted the fuck out of him.

“With my life.”

Fuck.
Nope, he wasn’t dwelling on the shit that had to be done with his dick and their new baby. It was what the fuck it was.

“Then trust me to get Mort and Bailey back here safe.”

“Okay.”

“C’mon, baby. We gonna go. I’m gonna let them handle shit. Don’t fuckin’ worry ‘bout this shit. You got my boy and…and the new kid in you to consider.”

She stared at him, her distress easing. “We’re having another baby.” She touched his jaw and then her belly. “Thank you so much for giving me this.”

“Too early, Megan,” he grunted, unable to let her gratitude slide without a dose of sober reality. As if reality wasn’t hitting them like a motherfucker from all fucking sides.

“Dr. Will wants me to terminate.”

Christopher flinched at her devastation. “You got CJ, Megan,” he reminded her. “He need you, baby. If Dr. Will say you gotta get it out of you, you gotta do it.” He tugged her toward the door. “C’mon. Let’s talk about this shit at home.” He paused at the body bag of the fucker who’d been using Megan. “Bring this motherfucker to the meat shack. Me and him gotta fuckin’ date.”

Jaw clenched, Cash nodded. “And the others?”

“Don’t give a fuck. Let Johnnie decide. I gotta see to my girl.”

Keeping a firm grip on her hand, he pulled her in the hallway, not stopping as he heard Johnnie snarling threats to Arrow. Not stopping when Arrow called out to him. And not fucking waiting for the elevator.

He lifted Megan into his arms and carried her the four floors down, then walked to where Mortician had parked her Mini Cooper, settled her in the passenger seat, and was soon heading to his MC.

On the ride home, Megan fell asleep. Fine with fucking Christopher. Bunny met him in the main room with CJ. He ordered her to keep a watch on both Megan and their son, changed into some old sweatpants and headed to the meat shack, laid out all the tools he needed and prepared for the arrival of his fucking date.

Chapter Seven: This Shit Ain’t Real

We just touched down in Cali. U have to pick Kendall up for me
.

Christopher stared at Johnnie’s text, his hands actually fucking trembling. He wanted
him
to get
his
bitch?

No. Fuck no. No fucking way in fucking hell. He wasn’t leaving Megan right now, only hours after the bullshit in Bailey’s apartment. Besides, Cash had made a call and gotten a
package
delivered early this morning to Christopher. The pills he needed to take care of the baby.

You one funny motherfucker askin’ me to get your bitch

Kendall’s in fucking danger, too. While I’m getting Mort back, I need you to get Kendall. Megan’s safe within the confines of the club. Kendall is out in the open.

Before Christopher could text
FUCK NO
, another text came through.

Fuck, Christopher. I can’t lose Kendall and our baby.

This fucking day just got better and fucking better.

Christopher arrived at Kendall’s psycho camp almost twenty-four hours later, after having to wait on fucking stand-by for hours. Megan had wanted to come but he’d refused. No fucking way was she getting on a plane in her condition. Until they got rid of that little thing inside her, she wouldn’t be doing much. Any-fucking-way, this was his chance to get to fucking Kendall alone and put that bitch in her place.

Driving into the lush greenery of a secluded place on the big island, he pulled into a resort that didn’t look as if it housed looney bitches like her. It looked like a place he could vacation with Megan. The hairs on the back of Christopher’s nape stood and he glanced around—feeling as if something was off. Eyes—a gun scope?—felt trained the fuck on him. He studied his surroundings but found nothing out of the ordinary.

He wasn’t even strapped because he didn’t have a fucking contact on the island to pick up a piece while he was there. He intended to kick Johnnie’s fucking ass.

Red roofed buildings, set amidst beautiful grounds, were spread out. Palm fronds swayed from tall trees in the tropical breeze. A shaggy looking groundskeeper nodded to Christopher as he stalked down the pathway following the stupid fucking signs directing him to check-in. What about that motherfucker bothered him? He just seemed out of fucking place, a
Shaggy DA
motherfucker in a peaceful scene.

He arrived at a one story building, set apart from the others, bright flowers and a carpet of green grass stunning in the color contrasts. Vaguely, he heard the roar of the ocean. Still, the Grim Reaper shadowed him. He felt it to his bones. Death was closing in on him and would mar the serenity.

He hoped like fuck it wasn’t
his
death.

Glancing around again, he didn’t see anything and, yet, the eyes of a thousand unseen forces trained on him. He threw open the door. Of course, the first fucking bitch he had to see was
her
. Controlling his temper and knowing he didn’t have time to fuck with her cuntery, he nodded to the girl behind the reception desk. She wasn’t much older than Megan and seemed absolutely in awe of him. Another woman poked her head out of an office and lifted her brows, glancing between him and Kendall.

What the fuck did they think? Kendall was getting some conjugal visits from him and Johnnie? He glared at them.

Kendall threw him a sullen glower.

“Right fuckin’ back atcha,” he snapped.

Dressed in a sleeveless green jumpsuit, she stood up, signaling him to get the Louis Vuitton luggage surrounding her. She raised her chin, her hand fluttering to her belly. Rage swirled into Christopher and he just stopped himself from grabbing her throat. Shit wasn’t feeling right. They needed to get the fuck out of there.

Clenching his jaw, he turned on his heel, but her husky voice halted him. “I have luggage I need you to carry.”

“Get ‘em your fuckin’ self—“

“Asshole!” she hissed. “Don’t turn away from me.”

Christopher balled his hands into fists and squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in air through his nose and repeating Megan’s name under his breath. Megan liked this cunt. She’d be pissed if Christopher killed her.

Kendall stomped her foot. “
I’m
pregnant, too, Christopher. I can’t carry all of this.”

How the fuck was that his problem? “Bring that shit your-fuckin-self or fuckin’ leave them, Kendall. Either way, we need to get the fuck outta here. I ain’t likin’ the vibes I’m gettin’, so we gotta go.”

Kendall rolled her eyes. “Mr. Dramatic,” she sneered and sat the fuck back down. “I’m
not
fucking leaving without my luggage and I’m
not
fucking carrying them.” She tossed her shoulder-length hair and squinted at him. “So now what?”

“Now, I leave your motherfuckin’ ass.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Kendall, I fuckin’ swear you pushin’ your fuckin’ luck.”

The door opened again and Christopher cursed, a sudden chill sweeping over him, his internal alarms blasting off. He glanced at the frown on the receptionist’s brow. No doubt she was trying to decide the ins and outs of this situation.

Christopher saw her indecision and that shit got motherfuckers killed. Instead of listening to instinct, fuckers hesitated and that was it. The other woman was licking her lips. She was older, a little more guarded with her trust. Slow panic settled into her eyes and she swallowed.

Casually looking over his shoulder, Christopher saw the shaggy motherfucker standing behind him, as out of place as Christopher. This asshole had been sent for Kendall. His amber gaze lasered on her luggage, although he couldn’t see her
yet.
At the moment, Christopher was blocking the other asshole’s view.

Mere moments ticked by while Christopher assessed his options, a small space of time that meant the difference between life and death. Christopher might’ve hated Kendall’s guts but she was Johnnie’s, which meant she was his responsibility, too.

Hoping she remained calm, he placed a finger over his lips, telling her to shut the fuck up.

Kendall’s voice broke the tense silence. “I’m not a dog to order about.”

Christopher rolled his eyes, grabbing her and shoving her to the floor as gunfire erupted. He kicked out, knocking the fucker off his feet, drowning out the screams of the women around him.

Slamming his fist into the man’s face, he grunted at the spray of blood and the crunch of bone. Asshole’s eyes rolled back in his head, but he gave him one, final blow to the throat, crushing his windpipe.

Breathing hard, he got to his feet. Kendall was trembling like fuck, but he’d see to her in a minute.

“You’ve been shot,” the young brunette behind the desk squeaked, barreling into him and sobbing. “You saved our lives.”

He pushed her away and guided her to a seat. “Ain’t nothin’ but a thing.” He looked at the other woman who’d stepped out of her office. “You called the cops?”

“M-murders d-don’t h-happen here.”

“First fuckin’ time for every-fuckin-thing, babe. Get this young bitch some water.” He pulled Kendall by her arm and threw over his shoulder, “Lemme use your fuckin’ office,” already heading to it.

The woman nodded vigorously. Glad to see a couch, he walked to it and sat down, surprised as fuck when Kendall scrambled onto his lap. For a moment, he allowed her to sob against him.

“Kendall, you havin’ a fuckin’ baby—“ The words galled the fuck out of him, but she fuckin’ was. Even if she wasn’t, didn’t mean Megan would be any less at risk being pregnant again. “Calm down. Okay?”

“He was going to kill me,” she cried.

“As long as you associatin’ with us, motherfuckers gonna go for you girls fuckin’ first. That’s why you gotta fuckin’
listen
and stop bein’ such a stubborn fuckin’ cunt about shit.”

She hugged him tighter, her tits pressing into his chest, her ass wiggling against his cock. She smelled good but his dick didn’t even twitch. He sighed.

“I swear, Kendall, you need to back the fuck off my lap.”

“I’m scared and I need comfort,” she got out. “That’s the least you could do.”

“No,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “The least I could fuckin’ do is just what the fuck I did. Saved your fuckin’ life. The most I can do is what the fuck I’m doin’ now. Havin’ you on my fuckin’ lap without shovin’ you the fuck off.”

Whimpering, she trembled a little more.

“All right, this fuckin’ e-fuckin-nuff. Get the fuck up.” When she didn’t move, he plopped her next to him and she fell over, dissolving into a heap of tears.

“If roles were reversed, Johnnie would be hugging Megan and comforting her,” she sobbed, reaching for him.

No fucking shit. “Do I look like fuckin’ Johnnie to you?”

“Why can’t you do the same for me?” she wailed, determined to get back in his lap.

He growled and got to his feet, moving out of the vicinity of her claws. “First? I love my fuckin’ wife and I only comfort her like that. Second? I can’t stand your fuckin’ ass. Whether it’s fuckin’ right or not, every-fuckin-time I look at your miserable ass, I see Megan beaten half to death. I see her with those fuckin’ paddles bein’ shocked the fuck back to life. I see her standin’ over my son’s coffin. I ain’t
ever
gonna like you. Fuckin’ sue me. Spit the fuck in my face. I don’t really give a fuck.”

“Then you should’ve let him kill me. But you couldn’t face Johnnie, knowing you’d let me die. You’re heartless and cruel. In case you forgot, I lost my baby, too. I was brutalized and I’m
still
a target.”

Christopher rubbed his shoulder, wondering if Kendall missed the danger to the others, too. Megan was a target. Zoann was a target.
Bailey
was a hostage. 

He studied Kendall. Like Megan, Bailey, and Zoann, Kendall was fucking gorgeous. He’d give her that. All that red hair and those big, brown eyes set in a lovely face with creamy skin and fine bone structure. Didn’t take away the fact that she was a first-class cunt.

He gazed at Kendall’s lips, thinking how great a pleasure it would be to sew them the fuck up so he’d never have to listen to her bullshit again. She flushed, glancing away. Just like that, it hit him. Her entire fucking problem.

Fuck him, but this shit wasn’t real. Just in case it was…“I ain’t fuckin’ you, Kendall.
Ever
. I ain’t sure what’s in that psycho fuckin’ head of yours, but get my fuckin’ dick the fuck out of it.”

“Why? Johnnie and Meggie had something. He’s made me miserable because of it. He won’t even set a wedding date. Because of your wife.”

“Who fuckin’ call you every-fuckin-day as
your
fuckin’ friend. Now, you tryin’ to gimme pussy. What kinda fuckin’ shit is this? Don’t you think this shit complicated e-fuckin-nuff?”

Her lower lip trembled. “He doesn’t want me. He sent
you
to get me.”

“I ain’t wantin’ you, either, and we tryin’ to get every-fuckin-body back to the compound safe. I was the
only
one who could get you.”

“So it’s true!” she sniffled. “He doesn’t want me.”

How the fuck had she gotten that shit out of what he’d said?

Christopher scowled at her. “Your ass all kindsa fucked up, Kendall. Lemme put this shit in terms you might finally fuckin’ understand. Let’s get the dick stand you gave me out the fuckin’ way. Pussy grind equal dick stand. It don’t mean I wanted to fuck your ass. I ain’t
ever
gonna wanna fuck you. Hear me?” His fucking shoulder was starting to burn. “Understand shit now?”

She gave him a sour look, but her shakes were stopping and her fear was abating.

“If Johnnie and Megan had fucked? You can betcha we wouldna been havin’ this fuckin’ conversation cuz I woulda killed him. He know. I know. We all fuckin’ know it.”

“Yes, because, you’re one, barbaric asshole.”

“And you one, stupid bitch, so fuck you.”

She glanced around. “You were looking at me like you wanted to kiss me.”

He shrugged and winced. “I was just tryin’ to figure out your crazy ass. Beyond that, I don’t want fuck all from you.”