Misalliance (Death Dwellers MC #4.5) (14 page)

In the parking lot, Johnnie escorted Kendall to her Navigator. He’d had to meet her at the office because he’d had other business to take care of beforehand. Although curiosity ate at her, she didn’t ask what had taken him away and he didn’t volunteer the information.

With his activities still heavy on her mind, she headed to the clubhouse, while he took off to wherever. She hoped Roxy was there. She came by every day to talk to Kendall and spend time with Dinah. After the first day, she no longer allowed anyone to come in Dinah’s room with her, so Kendall had no idea if she had made any strides or not.

Unfortunately, she’d missed Roxy’s visit, which meant if Kendall wanted to see her, she’d have to go to Meggie’s house, something she hadn’t done since last week. Meggie had not called her either. Roxy had invited her over, several times, but since it wasn’t Roxy’s house, Kendall always declined.

Picking up the phone, she dialed Charlotte’s number. The woman didn’t do text messaging, claiming they were too impersonal.

“Kendall, dear,” she answered, on the second ring. No matter what, she always had time for Kendall.

“I’m having a boy,” she said with excitement.

“Congratulations. I’m sure Mr. Donovan is ecstatic.”

“He is.”

“I’m happy for you.” She paused. “Cecilia is having a music recital at her house. I intended to call you in a bit. We’d love for you to attend.”

The eldest of Charlotte’s and Brooks’ daughters, Cecilia had always treated Kendall with a kind cordiality. More importantly, she shared Kendall’s interests—opera and fine art. “I’d love to, if Johnnie is welcomed.”

“Of course he’s welcome. You have to live with the man, Kendall. I don’t. It’s for eight pm, day after tomorrow.”

“Attire?”

“Formal.”

“I’ll call Johnnie and talk to him, then confirm with you.”

“Excellent. Talk to you later.”

With that, Charlotte disconnected, and Kendall headed to the closet she now shared with Johnnie to see if any of her new clothes could pass for formal wear.

Dear Diary,

I fucked Christopher. In my nightmare, that is. Some women would classify the way he had his hands and mouth all over me as a dream. I don’t. When I realized I was fingering myself, I felt dirty, and ran to the shower, washing my skin until it burned.

How dare the asshole invade my subconscious? I have never once, in all the times that I’ve known him, or all the times I’ve been at the center, conjured him up in such an erotic manner.

I’ve dreamed of shooting him, and Johnnie becoming club president.

Why would I have such thoughts about Christopher Caldwell, the arrogant ass? I’ve had so many orgasms imagining Johnnie inside of me, his silver eyes burning with the intensity he always had, his blond hair falling all over his head.

The dream about Christopher makes no sense. I can’t reconcile it with the depth to which I loathe him.

During one of the sessions, I referred to him as Outlaw. Dr. Stanton asked me how I came to call him by his Christian name.

It started in Hawaii, I explained, when I determined that he’d see me as good as Meggie. I anticipate the day he demands I go back to calling him by his road name. I’m going to laugh in his face.

I’m so angry. The sex with Christopher nightmare has infuriated me, and brought all my bad emotions back to the surface.

Still, it spurred me on to call Bailey.

With my release date imminent, I need to reach out to them.

When she returned my call, earlier this evening, I was in the shower. Now, I’m debating on whether I should call her or not.

Suppose she tells me Johnnie has moved on?

I was lost in nostalgia when I made the initial call.

Damn it, I’m too curious not to take her return call…

I’m back. I’ve just spent an entire hour on the phone with Bailey. The most I got out of her about Johnnie was the suggestion to call him myself. I promised I would, but not now.

Especially after humiliating myself and…wanting to know every detail about Meggie. I’m beginning to fear Dr. Stanton might’ve been right about the word Christopher tossed my way, too.

Obsession.

My questioning wasn’t the humiliating part. It was when I began an attempt to get Bailey in my corner by dropping hints about my disapproval towards Meggie. Bailey’s avowal that she saw nothing wrong with Meggie’s choices hurt and embarrassed me.

We ended the conversation not long after.

I can’t go back to Johnnie yet. I’m not ready.

However, I’ve made another monumental decision. I will look up Emily, my childhood nemesis, when I’m released. Perhaps, if I can discover from
her
why she disliked me so much, I’ll stop viewing Meggie as the enemy.

If that doesn’t work, there’s nothing that will, in my estimation.

When I discussed this with Dr. Stanton, he sidelined me, and took our questioning in a completely different vein. He
actually
asked me if I’d ever considered hurting Meggie.

He’s such an asshole.

But he kept me in his office, until I seriously considered the question. My conclusions shocked me. Yes, I want to see her suffer. I want her to suffer for being her and for reminding me of Emily.

I want her to suffer for having Christopher’s loyalty, and mostly, from being Johnnie’s first love. She would’ve been a daughter my mother would’ve wanted.

Dr. Stanton is horrible! He refused to let me leave, until he took me through hell. Have I ever fantasized about harming Meggie? Do I think I
could
hurt her in reality?

He’s completely against my contacting Emily. When is he
for
anything I want?

He insists my feeling towards Meggie has nothing to do with Emily. As if he knows me so well!

His final opinion is that I have depression and borderline sociopathic behavior! Me! How dare he pin such antisocial behavior on me? He recommends medication for me, citing my higher risk for post-partum depression.

I’ve declined. I refuse to put my baby at risk, because of a two-bit, shady quack.

I’d never harm Meggie! I just wouldn’t go out of my way to help her.

My feelings are my own, and there’s no one who can change them.

Chapter 11: You Can’t Kill

Johnnie wasn’t sure what awakened him, but his eyes flew open and he listened, attempting to pick up a sound. At the same moment he grew aware of Kendall’s head in the crook of his arm, a chill ran down his spine.

Easing away from her, he sat up, grabbed the .357 he kept in his nightstand, and got to his feet.

Fuck if he didn’t feel…
watched
. He went to the window and squinted out. Not caring about his nudity or his hard dick bobbing in the air, he hurriedly searched under his bed, in his closet, and bathroom, before opening his door and pausing.

The hallway was dark as fuck. It was still early morning, before six. Not even a light shone in the main room.

Trigger finger at the ready, gun poised, Johnnie went to the light switch and flicked it on. After doing a thorough search, he returned to his room half an hour later, still uneasy but unsure why.

Maybe, because Digger was on everyone’s minds. Sharper was just a dead ass whenever they found him, but Digger.

Digger.

Supposedly, he wasn’t even in the area. If he had been, Johnnie couldn’t be certain the man wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk his ass to come on premises. As far as Johnnie knew, all Digger’s shit was still in his old room, which meant his money.

Though Sharper had more than enough dollars to last a few lifetimes, Sharper was an arrogant motherfucker and Digger was ducking reckless.

“Johnnie?”

Kendall’s husky voice brought him back to the present and he turned in her direction. She gasped at the sight of the gun and bolted up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sweetheart.” He sat the gun on the nightstand and climbed back in bed, pulling her into his arms. “A noise woke me up, so I went to investigate.”

She frowned. “Naked?”

“Yes. By the time I put anything on, we could’ve been ambushed.”

“You could’ve been attacked by leaving the safety of this room, all alone.”

He kissed her temple, then threaded his fingers through her hair. “What else am I supposed to do? Besides, this is nothing different than what I’ve always done.”

She nuzzled his neck and heaved in a breath. “Digger could’ve been out there,” she said in a scared whisper.

“Exactly.”

“He probably wouldn’t have been alone!”

“Shhh, Kendall.” He kissed her again. “It’s okay. Just trust me.”

“I do,” she responded without hesitation.

His heart lurched at her simple words. He wanted her well-being, both emotionally and physically. But he wanted her trust most of all. An unwavering belief that he’d never do anything to put her in harm’s way.

Fuck.

She had more than enough reasons
not
to trust him. In each of his quests, instead of prevailing, he’d let her down. He’d probably been the one to help to push her recovery back a few notches.

As the days went along and the thought that she’d voluntarily returned to him diminished his anger, he’d began to once again look forward to their future. He believed they could work through this and have both Christopher and Megan’s support.

Kendall had made great strides. Almost miraculous. Unfortunately, he didn’t believe in miracles with all the shit that had happened in his life to make him cynical.

Yet, Kendall was
proof
that perseverance paid off.

He regarded her, her body round and ripe and beautiful. Her face was unlined, peaceful, and most of all free of the perennial frown. She was one exquisite package.

“I don’t know what I would do if anything happens to you.”

Her eyes were wide and scared, and Johnnie’s heart lurched. Although he believed she overreacted, she was hormonal and vulnerable, so he wouldn’t downplay her feelings.

She planted a soft kiss on his mouth, which he responded to immediately.

“Kendall, it was a false alarm, gorgeous. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“Digger is out there, though. As is his father, who sent someone to kill me.”

“I don’t want to fucking think about that right now,” he growled.

What if Christopher hadn’t made it in time? Kendall would’ve been dead and Johnnie never would’ve forgiven himself.
He’d
sent her away, almost to her death.

Suddenly, it hit him. What love was, and his capability for it. They embraced each other and held on tightly.

“Sweetheart, I’d prefer to know you’re safe and happy than to have you sad and in danger. If you need to leave once our son is born…”

“Is that what you want?”

“Fuck, Kendall.” He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her lips. “No. No, sweetheart. I want…
us
.”

“Do you think we’ll ever get married?” she asked in a small voice.

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She giggled and he couldn’t stop his own smile. “I’ll plan something really simple. Can we do it before the baby is born?”

Was this really happening? Had Kendall just agreed to become his wife within the next five weeks?

Fuck, maybe, he needed to have some bullshit awaken him every morning if this was the way things turned out.

It was all falling into place. Megan was planning a baby shower for Kendall for tomorrow night that Christopher had actually gave a grunt of agreement to.

Now….

Kendall’s lips brushed across his chest, and he groaned, talking himself out of fingering her pussy. She’d given them three months to forge a bond outside of bed.

She licked his nipple.

“Kendall,” he moaned. “Stop it.”

Lifting on her elbow, she caressed his jaw. “I’m so very sorry.”

Fuck, his dick was throbbing. He wanted in Kendall. As desperately as he wanted to fuck her, he couldn’t make the connection from kisses to apologies.

“What for?” he asked hoarsely, fisting his cock and squeezing.

Kendall wrapped her hand around the base of his dick. “Everything. For making you so miserable.”

Fuck, at the moment, she was making him deliriously happy. He pushed into her hand.

She trailed kisses over his stomach, her hair trailing along with her, whisper soft against his skin. “I didn’t know if my feelings for you was need or really love.” She licked his cockhead and he hissed out a breath. “I didn’t know if what you felt for me was pity or lust or sympathy. I was in a very, very dark place.”

She gobbled half his dick into her mouth.

“Fuuuccckkkk.”

Sucking him slow and leisurely, she caught his gaze, then pulled back. “I know who I am now.”

Fuck, if Kendall wasn’t trying to fucking kill him. Of all the times for a fucking heart-to-heart, the middle of sucking his dick wasn’t it.

She tongued his balls. “Do you want to know who I am?”

“Who, gorgeous?” he asked on a strangled breath.

She dipped the tip of her tongue over his cock hole, drew more pre-cum from him. “I’m Kendall Miller. I’ve discovered I’m in charge of my own destiny. I don’t really need anyone to survive.”

She sucked his dick again and stroked the base, her grip firm. Her head bobbed up and down, her tongue wiggling against his hard flesh as she continued her suctioning. This time, she didn’t stop until his cum shot into her mouth and he was trembling from his release. Before he fully recovered, she was sitting next to him and staring into his eyes. She leaned down and offered him a sweet kiss. The scent of her aroused pussy hardened his dick all over again.

Until he drew in a deep breath and the words she’d spoken before she sucked him off penetrated his sex-clouded brain. If she didn’t need him, then why did she want to marry him?

He was suddenly wary, afraid all hopes for a reconciliation were headed down the shitter.

“Everybody needs someone, gorgeous,” he said quietly. “Or something.”

For instance, he needed her.

“I don’t need you or anyone,” she stressed, her face flushed and her nipples hard.

His goodwill evaporated. “You don’t need me?” he echoed. “Fine. Does that mean you don’t need my baby, too?”

“I do need the baby,” she said, a teasing light entering her eyes. “As for his father, I want him. I love him so much and fervently hope his feelings for me mirror mine.”

He swallowed, his relief so great he sank into his pillow and heaved in a breath. “I love you, Kendall.”

She beamed a smile at him, laid back and shoved her nightgown over her hips.

Fingering herself, she whimpered, and the sound slid across Johnnie’s nerve endings.

He bit her earlobe. “I don’t have to stick my dick in you to get you off, gorgeous.”

He pushed her fingers aside and replaced them with his own. Her clit was swollen, her cunt slick and hot. She still kept her pussy devoid of hair and Johnnie feasted on her bare outer lips, licking her slit, before tonguing her opening.

She moaned and buried her fingers in his hair, rolling against his mouth.

He’d missed her so much.

He didn’t have to be anywhere for a couple of hours, so he’d spend his time eating her cunt and wringing as much orgasms from her as possible.

Later that morning and more sated than she’d been in months, Kendall waved to Bunny who watched over Little Man and Ryan as they played outside. Her step was as light as her heart, and she couldn’t help the laughter that escaped her.

She hurried to the back door of Meggie’s house and walked in. With the boys out, she knew the dogs were penned safely away, so she didn’t have to worry about her safety.

Remembering how she’d awakened and discovered Johnnie with his gun, Kendall faltered. She didn’t want to even imagine what would’ve happen if Johnnie had ran into an intruder. Arrow and Stretch were somewhere on the premises, but Johnnie hadn’t called them as backup. He’d gone on his search all alone.

Once her panic had passed, she hadn’t considered anything but feeling him again. She still thought the no-sex rule was a good one. She’d just amended it to
no penetration
, until their wedding night, anyway.

Finally, she’d have her Johnnie. She’d be the best wife possible. This morning gave her hope that anything was possible. Charlotte didn’t mind if Johnnie accompanied Kendall…

Oh, fuck! She’d forgotten to talk to him about the music recital.

Last night, he’d been in a phone meeting about the medical lab. When he finished, he’d gone straight to his computer to run reports and compare numbers. She’d fallen asleep waiting for him to come to bed.

Huffing, Kendall stomped forward. When she finished with Roxy, she’d call Johnnie and tell him about Charlotte’s invitation.

The moment she walked into the mud room, Roxy’s singing voice floated to her, along with Harley’s gurgle. She got the tail end of
Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans
, but the next song she went to, Kendall didn’t know, so she just listened, recognizing that Roxy’s musical tastes differed greatly from her own.

“Megan Caldwell, what are you doing downstairs?”

Her happiness slid away for a second.

Biting her lip, Kendall reminded herself of Roxy’s Come-to-Jesus moment during the dinner. She hadn’t been faced with Meggie since that night, so it was so easy to
think
she’d accepted Roxy’s advice.

“I’m not talking to Christopher,” she said sullenly.

Roxy clucked, “You two still arguing about the business you want to open with Zoann?”

Kendall snorted and trudged forward, interrupting any explanations of how Christopher didn’t want his precious wife to work like a normal woman.

“Hey, sugar,” Roxy greeted, when Kendall stepped into view. She had Harley in her arms, rocking her as she sat at the center island. Meggie rested her elbows against it, at the other end.

“Hey, Kendall.”

She offered Meggie a tight-lipped smile, then said to Roxy, “How are you?”