Misjudged (Death Dwellers #3.5) (3 page)

Even if Meggie was beginning to have doubts about Johnnie’s choice for a bride.

Kendall sighed wearily. “I’ve tried talking to Johnnie about setting a wedding date,” she went on in that same bitter tone. “Every time I bring the subject up, he changes topics. I think it has to do with you. He doesn’t hide anything that goes on at the club, so,
you
might be aware, but he’s told me, on several occasions, how he’s wanted to jump to your defense. We’re being honest? Well, let me tell you this. I wasn’t only jealous of you, I fucking despised you. I wanted you to die so I could have peace. Then, I realized, if you were dead, you’d be immortal, forever young and perfect. But, then I began to get to know you, and I tried to continue to hate you.” She’d let out another sob. “You were everyone’s friend. All someone has to do is say sorry and you forgive them. Even me. I went from detesting you to wanting to be you. I ended up pitying you because you’re married to the biggest goddamn ass in the world. You aspire to be a fucking
housewife
. You can’t think without his permission. Your pussy is his to use and discuss for the world’s amusement. Nothing about you belongs to you. You have no autonomy. Then I started to worry for you. You don’t see he’s going to get tired of having to raise you. He will deride your dependence on him eventually. You bring nothing of value to the table. Not a job. Not an education. Not money. Not experience. Not maturity.
Nothing
. Who can respect you? Your barbarian of a husband is always demanding respect because he knows you can’t get it on your own, being who you are. I’m pretty sure a lot of the women don’t like you or respect you. Those men don’t respect you either. They just want pussy from you because that caveman you’re married to shared every girl he’s ever fucked with whoever wanted a piece of her. He corrupted Johnnie with that bullshit. He fed into Val’s perversions.”

Kendall was being particularly vicious but she needed to vent, and, whether Meggie liked it or not, Kendall was also bringing up some of the very things that had begun to worry Meggie. That fact alone kept the phone glued to her ear, compelling her to keep listening to the vitriol. Would a housewife be enough to keep a man like
Outlaw
Caldwell interested through the years?

“By the way, I’ve searched Char out,” Kendall offered at Meggie’s silence, “and I know she holds him responsible for leading Mortician astray. He
encouraged
Mortician to cheat on her—“

“No, Kendall,” Meggie bit out. “Please, whatever else you might do or think, don’t open that can of worms. Charlemagne lied to you.”

“This is what I’m talking about,” Kendall had argued. “She even asked about Bailey because she knew she’s K-P’s daughter. She asked if they’d been close and if she was grieving. She asked about his belongings and if Bailey had gone through them or if someone else had.”

“She’s just being nosy. She doesn’t mean anyone any good,” Meggie insisted, her head beginning to pound and an upset stomach kicking in. Christopher walking in with their son in his arms and scowling when he saw her on the phone, hadn’t helped. He’d handed her CJ and stalked out. “Not to you,” she said, the moment her husband departed. “Not to Bailey. And definitely not to Mortician. Just leave Char alone. Please.”

“Right. Leave her alone because you’re ordering it?”

“No—“

Kendall ignored her and ranted on. “So I guess you’re going to run and tell Mortician and Asslaw I’ve talked to her.”

“Stop calling Christopher names. He isn’t here to defend himself.”

“Yes, I’m sure. Otherwise, you wouldn’t call me. He wouldn’t allow it.”

“Enough! He’s been right next to me on several occasions when we’ve had our phone conversations. He can’t stop me from talking to you. Will I tell him that you’re being a moron and calling that witch? No. That’s between you, Mortician, and Bailey. I really, really don’t want to speculate on why you did this. I can only hope you think about my plea to you not to call her again. She’s caused a lot of grief. And that’s the real story. Not—“

“You want real? My words to you are the real. Zoann wanting to coddle you is
not
real. As long as you’re making her brother happy, she doesn’t give a fuck about how you act or what you lack. Bailey is so wrapped up in Mortician’s lies, she won’t sit down and try to talk sense into you about going to school. Your mother can’t even help herself. Now? You might think differently—but knowing you, you won’t—but I really do like you most of the time. Maybe, that’s the power of your
sweetness
,” she snarled. “After Johnnie came and left immediately because of something that went on at the club, just brushing off my need to talk about a wedding date, I don’t know how I feel about you.”

“I can relate, Kendall,” Meggie admitted quietly, wondering how they’d gotten to this point. Kendall couldn’t strike out and hurt other people, just because she, herself, was hurting. It didn’t work that way. Friendship didn’t work that way. They both had some hard truths facing them. “The way you feel about my husband, about me, that’s not always easy to overlook. Or forgive.”

Meggie wanted to stay in a forgiving state, rationalizing that Kendall was in a very fragile place emotionally.

When Kendall had added the last part, Meggie remembered what had started the contempt and she’d brushed aside her hurt and nausea, swiping away her tears. Kendall was hurt that Johnnie wasn’t talking about a wedding date and because of her therapist’s words.

“But you do because you’re just an angel. Perfect.”

“No, I’m not,” Meggie growled. “My God, Kendall.
Listen
to yourself. You sound completely crazy. What are they doing to you? It isn’t helping at all. You’re reverting back to a raving bitch.”

Just what Meggie hadn’t wanted to happen, had. She’d lost her temper.

“You’re so fucking judgmental, Meggie. I don’t know why I even talk to you.”

“Then don’t because
you’re
so fucking judgmental, too. I have other things to do instead of listening to your stupid abuse all in the name of
finding
yourself. You don’t want to talk to me? Fine. I won’t call you and you don’t call me. Just go to hell.”

Had she just said that? She didn’t use profanity, but Kendall would drive a soul in the angelic choir to cuss like a sailor.

Neither of them spoke for long moments and Meggie wasn’t sure why she just didn’t hang up. Kendall made her
so
mad. But she empathized with her simply because of Dinah. Once K-P was killed, her mom had completely given up. All the progress she’d made with K-P’s help had been lost.

Kendall, though, still fought to get better. After everything, she still managed to put her feet on the floor. Some days, they took Kendall forward and other days she went a few steps backwards.

At least, she was fluid, though, moving between progression and regression until she got it all figured out. Meggie’s mom was just
there
.

Still, Meggie couldn’t overlook everything Kendall said. The woman
had
to know that, at some point, Meggie would lash back.

Now that Meggie had, though, she felt a lot of pity for Kendall. The other woman was sad and miserable, unsure of Johnnie, while Meggie
knew
Christopher loved her.

She licked her lips, choosing her words carefully, wanting to block out all Kendall had said about her and Christopher. “Kendall, Johnnie loves you. He’s heard you. He…he…Just trust me,” she’d implored, not knowing what else to say. Kendall needed assurance from Johnnie through action. It was long past the time for words.

“No! Since you have everyone’s attention, especially my man’s, tell him I want us to set a wedding date or else.”

With that, Kendall hung up. Heavy-hearted, Meggie had gotten her son and herself ready for the day. When Christopher suggested a respite for them over breakfast, Meggie had jumped at it. CJ and Ryan were spending the night at Bunny’s house. Meggie had just wanted to forget everything about the conversation, but she had to get to Johnnie and tell him that it might be best if he told Kendall his intentions.

Now, as Christopher walked to the bar with his unmatchable swagger, the past days with all the other women around him, taunted Meggie. Kendall didn’t always have the best delivery, but she always had very good points.

Her shoulders sagging, she clung to him. She’d never been in such a rough looking place before. Realizing her actions made her dependent on her husband, she dropped her trembling fingers and stepped back.

“Dizzy,” Christopher said with a nod to a big, grizzled man behind the bar, “set me up with a bottle and a Diet Coke for my girl.”

“Not seen you around here in months, Outlaw,” the man answered, sizing Meggie up. “We sharing tonight?”

“Fuck no, motherfucker. This my fuckin’ wife. Her pussy mine and mine alone. Sharing days fuckin’ over. Over for John Boy and Val, too. Mort? I ain’t too sure about. Pass that word along, Dizzy.”

Dizzy shrugged. “Sunny was talking about you the other day.”

Christopher guzzled from his bottle and handed Dizzy money at the same time. “Who the fuck Sunny?” he asked, handing Meggie her Diet Coke. Not that she wanted to drink that.

“One of your former Bob bitches. According to her, she did her final interview so well, you had her suck your dick three or four more times.”

Meggie shifted from foot-to-foot but kept her face neutral. Lately, the Bobs had been around Christopher more than they’d been around him since her arrival and she hated it. Those women commanded attention. A lot of them were gorgeous with hot bodies. Everyone knew they were exceptional at oral sex, too. They were brought out for the use of the brothers on special occasions. Those girls were interesting.

Meggie had never seen a problem with being a housewife. But Kendall had a point. She needed her own skills to rely on herself if Christopher left her or cheated on her. For months, she’d been in a fog over losing Patrick. She’d gotten up and faced the world every day for Christopher’s and CJ’s sakes. But, at some point, her thoughts always wandered back to holding Patrick in her arms, sobbing against the stillness of his tiny body.

Christopher had been there and folded her in his arms while she continued to hold their dead son.

All she thought about was being the reason he was gone. She should’ve called Christopher when Kendall insisted on going to the Torps’ clubhouse. If she hadn’t been able to reach her husband, then she should’ve tried Johnnie or Mortician,
one of
them, to help her talk sense into Kendall. They would’ve more than talked sense into her. They would’ve forcibly kept her at the clubhouse.

Kendall had wanted justice and Meggie understood that. Caroline deserved justice.

With so much going on, Meggie hadn’t been thinking straight. Instead of being logical and enlisting help to keep Kendall contained, she’d gone with her.

At the cost of the lives of two, innocent babies, including her own.

With the rush and nonsense of the theme park behind her, Meggie felt at loose ends, a little embarrassed and inept. The simple fact was she enjoyed being a wife and a mother. To her, the most important job in the world was taking care of her husband and children, no matter who she was married to. But so many changes had taken place in her life over the past few months. She didn’t know what was right.

As for Kendall, Johnnie had underestimated her fragile state of mind. She was still healing, so he needed to
let her know
things. She’d gone back to work on a limited basis and felt secure enough to express her opinions to everyone at the club, but he couldn’t expect her to suddenly be the same woman he’d met with the trauma she’d experienced and the years of emotional abuse she’d gone through.

Somehow, Meggie needed to make him understand that, although she suspected he did. He just thought the position he’d taken with Kendall was the quickest way to help her. She’d convince Christopher to let Johnnie go back to Hawaii.

Feeling antiquated, outdated, and weak, Meggie focused on the barman and slid her can of soda back to Dizzy. “I’d like a glass of wine.”

Christopher’s brows snapped together and she narrowed her eyes. He scowled at her, but nodded to Dizzy. “Get her a fuckin’ wine,” he ordered, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

Dizzy shrugged and poured Concorde Grape wine in a plastic cup.

Accepting it, Meggie frowned. Maybe, she didn’t drink wine on a regular basis, but she knew it was supposed to be served in a certain type of glass.

“Let’s get the fuck to a table, Megan,” Christopher growled.

Sighing, Meggie followed her husband to a corner table, so small their knees brushed when she sat across from him. Dim lighting gave it an oddly intimate atmosphere. There was no music, just a low hum of conversation. From the looks of the men, this was a biker hangout, neutral territory. No more than four men in the entire bar wore the same colors. Some rockers on the cuts even identified out-of-town chapters. Then, it hit her. The Rally. They must be close to it.

She sipped from the cup, the wine sweet and fruity tasting, not so bad. She gulped half the contents down.

Immediate heat rushed through her and her head swirled, her eyes feeling as if they crossed. She giggled at the thought, bringing the cup to her mouth. Before she drank, Christopher snatched it from her, sloshing wine everywhere. What he didn’t slosh, he finished in a swallow.