Misled (10 page)

“What’s his name?”

“Thomas Nicholls,” she croaked. The same focus and kindness he’d exhibited before Ellen and Kiera walked in returned. That was the hardest to swallow. The way he made her feel, the desire, safety, need and want. The way he
knew
he made her feel and gave so little thought to toying with her and then kissing two other women senseless.

He rose to his feet and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the inside of his vest pocket. “I don’t have what you call a girlfriend,” he began after lighting it and taking a drag. “Second, if you ever act like such a psycho bitch, I’m gonna strip you to nothin’, lay you over my lap, and beat your bare ass.”

She glowered at him. He took another drag of his cigarette, unaffected.

“Next, Ellen ain’t had no business openin’ her fuckin’ trap about Boss.” He
threw an evil look at the woman, who flushed and looked away.

“My father—“ She paused and
the thought hovering in the back of her head broke free. She sucked in a breath and clutched her belly. “Young girls,” she whispered and her voice shook. “My father.” She swiped away the tears she couldn’t stop and pressed down on her trembling lips, determined to control herself. She started over. “My father isn’t like Thomas, is he? I-I mean the whole world looks at Big Joe and sees a biker. They don’t even try to see the real him.” She shuddered. “They look at Thomas and see a math teacher. A wholesome, all-American citizen. But…but he isn’t. He’s worse than my father could ever be. With Big Joe...” She swallowed, blinking rapidly. Thomas was vile, evil, the very bottom of humanity, preying on the weakness of women and children, a sociopath, who didn’t penetrate her because of her mother’s one stand against him, her refusal to put Meggie on any sort of birth control. He’d still hurt her, humiliated her, and held her down to exercise his will. Her father couldn’t have been that man. He just couldn’t have been. “With my father, what you see is what you get. He isn’t…my father wouldn’t—“

Megan saw everyone shift uncomfortably and exchange meaningful glances before all the attention converged and focused on her. She felt their feelings like a heavy hand pressing into her.

Christopher stared at her in brooding silence, smoking his cigarette. When he finished, he walked to the bar and tamped it out into an ashtray. He released the last bit of smoke.

“Shit, Megan.” He leaned on the bar and thrust his hands through his hair. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Another more horrifying thought occurred to her. Until then, she’d been too stupid to put the pieces together. “Christopher,” she breathed, shaking her head in denial. “Why are you in his office? Why do you wear the president’s vest?”

“Cut,” he inserted.

“Cut?” she echoed.

He nodded, holding her gaze, his own guarded. “The vests are called cuts.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the
n scratched his jaw. “Fuck, Megan. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

And, suddenly, she knew. Dread and horror pitched through her and she rose to her feet, everything in slow motion. “He isn’t coming back, is he?”

No one moved or said a word.

She barreled to Christopher and jabbed a finger in his chest. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

How the fuck was he supposed to answer the desperate plea in Megan
’s voice? Her beautiful eyes filled with anger, fear, and dawning grief. Tears spiked her long lashes and disbelief parted her lips, her cheeks flushed with all the emotions rushing in her.

He felt like choking the shit out of Ellen. The stupid whore had gone too fucking far this time. Her words
, as much as her fucked-up display that led Megan down this path, pissed him the fuck off. His part in this entire fucked-up affair saved Ellen’s fucking ass.

He wanted to forget
Zoann’s words, but they’d opened up old wounds. As determined as he was to keep his hands off Megan before speaking to his sister, he’d doubled his determination afterwards.

His brain to
ld him he made the right decision. His dick, however, had different ideas and wanted to fuck Megan with as much determination as Christopher wanted to resist her. Worse, she wanted him and wasn’t making it easy for him to do the right thing by her when he’d hurt so many other people. When almost everyone else, outside of his brothers, saw him as a piece of shit.

The thought chilled his blood, humiliating him with the freshness of
Zoann’s accusations. But, fuck him, if the way Megan looked at him didn’t reach into his loneliness, make him feel as if she saw past the man the world saw. The killer that he was.

If Ellen’s arrival hadn’t interrupted him, Christopher would’ve kissed Megan and not stopped unt
il he had her in his bed. She’d been fucking teasing and tempting him all evening. He hadn’t expected Ellen or Kiera to cause problems. He’d fucked other bitches in the time he’d been fucking them.

He paced again, buying more ti
me. Megan made him feel all sorts of new shit. Maybe, because, she was innocence and sex, a dangerous combination. He’d felt the sweet touch of her fingers in the corner of his mouth all the way to his balls.

But he pretended he didn’t give a fuck and kissed Ellen back, hugged Kiera and kissed her, too. And fucked up more than anyone else. Because all he did was piss Megan the fuck off. All it did was make him want her pussy more. Make him want her more.

Somehow, he had to convince her about Boss. What, he wasn’t sure.

He glance
d around the room, noting the sympathy in Digger’s, Mortician’s, and Val’s faces. They were his friends. They must’ve recognized how different he treated Megan. He glared at Rack’s smirk. The fucker knew Christopher, too. He was older, had been a man he looked up to as much as Boss. He’d also recognize the difference in the way Christopher treated Megan. He was probably considering how to clue Megan in about her old man before Christopher blew him the fuck away.

Maybe, he should end this sick fucking game between them once and for all
. Megan didn’t have to worry anymore, though. The words
Megan can’t be touched
was carved on Rack’s fleshy, hairy back, assuring Christopher the fuckhead wouldn’t bother Megan again. The wounds were superficial, but had made a fucking lasting impression. As had all the screaming when Christopher had poured rubbing alcohol over the fresh cuts. So, yeah, that motherfucker carried all kinds of hate for Christopher.

He crouched in front of Megan. Might as well get the shit out in the open. Well, part of it. Then, he could get her
somewhere and away from him. Jesus, he had to. He wasn’t for her. She wasn’t cut out for this life. “Boss ain’t comin’ back, Megan.
Ever
.”

A strangled gasp escaped her bloodless lips, her complexion turning sheet white. “No,” she got out, a whisper-sob. “
No.
” The tears slipping down her cheeks brightened her eyes and stripped away all her defenses, leaving behind pain and denial.

If Christopher could resurrect Boss, make him be the man he once was, he would. For Megan. Just to take away her heartache. That meant he might not be standing here, memorizing every feature o
f her perfect face. But who the fuck would miss him? Even Boss, in all his fuckuppedness, had people who’d loved him and needed him. Namely, his beautiful baby girl.

She blinked, a rapid movement of her eyelid
s. “He’s dead.” No question, just a blunt, heartbroken statement.

He nodded, determined to have that point clear.
Gone
to her might’ve meant something different than
dead
.

“How? When? How? What happened?”

Her trembling words shot straight to Christopher’s heart.

“I don’t know,” he lied after a tense moment. Since he was confessing, he
should tell all. But he couldn’t bear to see her look turn to anything other than the one that made him feel like he owned the world. He’d send her away, but he wouldn’t send her away hating him. “I wasn’t there when he died, so I can’t answer what happened last year. We comin’ up onto the one year mark.” Tomorrow.

“Where’s he buried?” she asked around a pitiful sob.

He deflected the answer by giving her what she wanted, pulling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head. She buried her nose in his neck and cried so hard Christopher felt like a complete bastard, so unworthy of Megan he was glad he hadn’t touched her.

He scooped Megan up and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He brought her to his room and got her into bed
, holding her in his arms for a few minutes and thumbing her wet cheeks, caressing her soft hair. She stared at him out of liquid blue eyes, pleading for comfort, something he couldn’t give her. Her flushed cheeks and parted lips told him what else she wanted from him, something he was fighting like a motherfucker not to give her.

He
got out of the bed and her entire body sagged, as if his rejection punched the last of her fight right the fuck out of her.

Pretending to ignore her, he slammed the door behind him and stalked to the bar, his dick hard and heavy for her. The mood had changed since he and Megan first sat at the table several hours ago.
In the short time he’d been gone only a handful of people remained. Ellen sucked on a bud before passing it to Mortician. A filled shot glass sat in front of her amidst several empty ones. Mortician rested his forearms and elbows on the counter. She stood on the stool’s footrest and leaned forward to whisper something in Mortician’s ear. She laughed, a harsh, raw laugh Christopher never liked. Val was cleaning up the mess of broken glass and spilled beer Megan made, the table Christopher knocked over had been righted again and pushed to the corner. Her boots stood on the far end of the counter. So, maybe, he was wrong to get Megan the same boots he’d bought for the other two. He could only be thankful Ellen hadn’t worn hers. Megan would’ve flipped.

He nodded to Digger, who
was busy removing bottles from the other tables and near the pool table and dart board area. Kiera had disappeared altogether. At loose ends, Christopher headed for his office, allowing a crack in the door. He pulled out a fifth of vodka from his desk cabinet, along with his stash of Aunt Mary. Nothing like a little Herb and Al to get his mind off shit.

After preparing everything and saving his shit away, he leaned back. He alternated between taking hits and swallowing vodka.
Tomorrow couldn’t come and go soon enough for him. It was the day he’d had to make a split second decision to choose his life or Boss’s. Christopher saw to it that everyone would be extra fucking busy. He’d stay extra busy as well. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to feel. And he didn’t want to hurt.

He took another hit, unable to get Megan out of his head.

“Outlaw?” Ellen pushed the door open before Christopher answered.

Christopher swigged from the bottle, watching her advance with dispassion.

She stopped next to him and gave him a nervous smile. “Wanna fuck?”

Yeah, but not
her.
He slammed the bottle on his desk and unzipped his jeans to pull his cock out. “Suck my dick then get the fuck outta here.”

She
dropped to her knees and he closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the chair. Her tongue swirled around the head before she slurped half his dick into her mouth. The tip hit her throat and he grunted, holding her head in place and thrusting hard, using her skills to release all his pent-up tension. It didn’t take him long to come. Megan had him on edge and he either had to corrupt her or fuck other bitches.

He jerked and held her head in place and made sure she swallowed every drop of his cum before putting his cock away and throwing back more of his vodka. Ellen sat back and stared
at him. Her nipples pressed against her thin blouse and she pulled on them, her smile filled with promises.

“I wanna come, too,”
she said quietly.

He’d never seen nor heard such gentleness from Ellen before. She almost looked soft and Christopher glimpsed the girl she must’ve been before life fucked over her. She wanted to be his old lady and she sensed how Christopher was responding to Megan.
She’d wanted him for herself before Megan arrived, played her hand at every turn to push Kiera out of the threesome. He turned back to his desk.

“Whatever the fuck you have against Megan, the shit stops. As long as she’s
here you be on your best fuckin’ behavior.”

Ellen shot to her feet and whirled around the desk to face him. “That pissy little bitch shoved me.”

“You wanna continue to be let in here, you’ll get over it,” Christopher warned. “You got me?”

Her eyes widened. “You like he
r,” she spat. “Sitting in here, smoking like the fiend you are, all alone. That’s how Boss started. You’re him all over again.”

Christopher shot to her and grabbed her by the throat, pinning her against the wall. “I told Megan I ain’t no woman beater,” he growled, his hand squeezing her slender neck. “Don’t make me no fuckin’ liar to her. Feel what I’m sayin’, you stupid bitch?”

“Yes,” she croaked.

“She’s leavin’, but, i
n the meantime, if you can’t find it in your bitchy ass to be nice to her, you deal with me. You’re a supreme fuckin’ bitch to Kiera, but she been around. She’s used to bitches like you. Megan ain’t. She ain’t been around you bitches. Ain’t had to put up with our world. If you don’t do nothin’ else in your fucked up life, you should wanna help see this girl ain’t hurt no more than she already been by all the fuckin’ bullshit.” He shook her. “Which means, bitch, you breathe one fuckin’ word to her that don’t sit right with her and I’m fuckin’ puttin’ you out your goddamn misery.” He shoved her away. “Understand?”

She swallowed and nodded.

“If you or any other motherfucker likes breathin’, then Megan better be left the fuck alone. She tell your ass to jump. You ask her how fuckin’ high.”

“You—you do like her.” Her words no longer held malice, just genuine shock. She stared at him, taking in the hard set of his features, looking at him as if she’d never seen him before.

“Outlaw?”

“
Val,” Christopher called. “C’mon, man. It’s opened.”

His Road Chief entered and paused when he saw Ellen.

“You headin’ out with the hydrogrows?”

Val
nodded. “Yeah. Should bring a nice buck. We killed it this growing season.”

“Roll out then, brother
.”

Once he was alone again with Ellen, he nodded toward the door, just wanting to be alone. “If you want some fun, go give Mortician some pussy. He’s been sweatin’ you for fuckin’ ever.”

She frowned. “You think him and Digger would come with me to Ki’s?”

Christopher shrugged. “Only way you know is if
you ask. If Digger don’t wanna go to Kiera with y’all, I promise you Mortician ain’t gonna complain.”

“What are you doing the rest of the evening?”

“Gettin’ in my fuckin’ bed.” Next to Megan. He reminded himself not to get used to having her there.

As he watched Ellen leave his office, he told himself the sooner he got Megan Foy the fuck away from here, the better for all concerned.