Misalliance (Death Dwellers MC #4.5) (4 page)

“And? I left Megan.”

“That’s different,” Johnnie scoffed. “You two weren’t married and were barely in a relationship.”

“I still left her.”

“Would you have taken her back if she’d left you? Do you have any idea—“

“Get the fuck over it, John Boy,” Mortician advised, not giving Johnnie a chance to finish his question to Christopher. “Red did what she had to do. Bailey walked away from me, but I love her. No way would I act like a crying ass woman and hold that against her after the way I treated her.”

“How did I treat Kendall? As I see it, I only ever thought of her.”

“Maybe,” Val agreed, chewing on a toothpick. “Hold a fucking minute.” He went to the bar. Ignoring the probate serving drinks, he procured a bottle each of tequila, vodka, scotch, and rum. Christopher grabbed the tequila while Mort reached for the vodka.

Johnnie took the scotch and gulped from the bottle. “What do you fucks expect me to do? Open myself up for her to fuck me over again?”

“That shit up to you, John Boy.” Mortician drank again. “It’s not us who got to live with Red if you make up with her.”

“Is she at least a little normal?” Val asked, already half finished with the pint.

“Are you?” Johnnie snapped, anger flashing through him.

“Whatever. That’s your bitch. Deal with her however you feel like it. Meanwhile, I’m taking my bitch and my boy to our house. Zoann needs her rest.” Clapping Mort’s shoulder, Val bumped fists with him. “Congratulations, fucker.”

“You up next, brother,” Mort chortled. “Soon as Chester get your other son out of her, you got to have a formal wedding like me and Prez. Chester deserve that.”

“If you tell her that shit, I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

“Too late. Already told her.”

Val grunted and shot daggers at Mort but headed to his wife, who sat next to Megan. Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Megan shifted away as Val leaned down.

“Is it only my fuckin’ ass or does my girl look upset whenever Val around her?”

Although Johnnie didn’t know what had happened the day Kendall heard Megan screaming, it involved Val,
and
Mort had full disclosure of the goings-on from that time.

Mortician cleared his throat. “You just stressed over Meggie girl and the babies she got in her.”

Not answering, Christopher studied Megan until Val pulled Zoann to her feet. Once she headed off to find Ryan, Val nodded to Megan. She responded with an uneasy smile.

Regret and sadness on his face, Val’s shoulders heaved. He guided Zoann out without looking in their direction again.

Mortician closed his eyes and sighed, then emptied his bottle. “Prez, I don’t know what you thinking and shit, but fucking up Val because Meggie seem emotional not the best thing to do,” he advised.

“Megan’s pregnant,” Johnnie said, taking up the argument, although he knew he didn’t have all the facts. “She might be upset because Val said something she didn’t like.”

“Yeah, Val don’t always use his fucking brain.”

Christopher didn’t respond immediately, but studied Megan as she twisted her wedding set. Lost in thought, she stared at the place Val had stood. After a moment, she looked in their direction and saw Christopher’s intense focus on her. Immediately, she smiled and blew him a kiss, which seemed to appease Christopher.

“I ain’t doin’ shit,” he said, thoughtful. He eyed Megan as if he tried to see inside her head and discover what she was thinking whenever she was near Val lately. “For now. Just observin’.”

“Someone said this is your house,” Sherilyn cut in, stepping into their group and focusing on Christopher.

Christopher dragged his attention away from Megan. “Some fuckin body lied then,” he retorted. “This my wife house.”

Glancing around, she paused with a brief look of surprise. She pointed to Megan. “Her?”

“I ain’t fuckin’ stuttered earlier.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be with me?” Johnnie asked mildly. “Shouldn’t you be interested in my house?”

“Hmmm,” Mortician said, hand on chin. “Where the fuck I heard that shit before? Red, maybe? Only she always wondered why your dumb ass stayed so interested in Meggie.”

“The house is beautiful,” Sherilyn said in a bland voice, still looking all around.

“It’s what the fuck she wanted, so that’s what the fuck she got.”

“Lucky her,” she said sarcastically, finally swinging her attention back to Johnnie. “I’ve waited for you as long as I intend to. Either we leave now or jerk your own self off tonight.”

Johnnie had had enough bullshit for one day. “Lucky me,” he said coldly, “I have my choice of women to fuck, so I won’t miss a bitch who decides to close her legs to me. Go. You were just a pussy to fuck.”

She raised her hand to slap him, but she must’ve caught the look in his eyes. Although he couldn’t see it, he felt the rage building inside of him.

She backed away and spat, “fuck you.”

As she rushed toward the door, Johnnie realized only a handful of people remained behind.

A hiccup and a giggle pulled his attention to Bailey.

She laid her hand on Mort’s chest and beamed a smile at him. “Are you ready to head out to PDX, Lucas?” she squeaked.

Mortician gave an unenthused nod. “Fuck, Bailey. I’m not looking forward to no long ass fucking flight. How the fuck my ass agreed to go to fucking Greece, man?”

She gazed at him through her long lashes. “You love me,” she ventured.

The frown smoothed away from Mort’s brow and he kissed her.  “To borrow a line from Prez, I love the fuck out of you.”

She stood on tiptoes and swayed into him. “I love the fuck out of you, too, Lucas.”

As Christopher lit a cigarette, Mort whispered to Bailey. She nodded with vigor. Whatever dirty shit he’d promised, she seemed more than ready for it.

Though amused, Christopher stayed silent.

Johnnie didn’t have a lot of experience with new moms other than what he’d observed with Megan. However, Bailey’s breasts were swollen and he suspected it was because she needed to nurse. From what he understood, she’d pumped her milk hours ago. At some point, Bailey had changed from her wedding dress into a pair of jeans and a form-fitting sweater, which made her tits quite noticeable.

“Are you ready to go?” she repeated, offering the three of them a drunken smile.

Mortician stared at her chest. “I think your tits need sucking.”

Bailey peeped at them. “They do?”

“Yeah, girl.”

She frowned. “You don’t like the milk.”

Johnnie smirked at Mort.

The lying fucking pervert kept a straight face as he said, “You need relief, right? It’s all for the cause, baby. Anything to make you more comfortable.”

“Okay. But we have to go,” she mumbled.

Christopher drew Bailey into a one armed hug and kissed her forehead. “You got this motherfucker right the fuck where he need to be, babe.”

“Pussified?” she said gravely as Christopher released her.

“Yo, Prez, that’s some cold ass shit. Getting my girl to cross over to your fucking side.”

Ignoring Mortician, Christopher bit back laughter and said, “Keep this motherfucker on his toes, Bailey.”

“Okay.”

Christopher offered Mort a man hug.

Johnnie opened his arms to Bailey and hugged her when she came to him. “Take care, sweetheart.”

“Be nice to Kendall,” she retorted on a slur.

Grabbing her by the waist, Mortician turned Bailey towards the hallway that led to the staircase. “Go upstairs and wait for me in the room I was in earlier.”

“Okay. I’ll go pump.”

“Just wait for me,” Mort insisted.

“Okay,” she muttered, and followed the path he’d set her on.

“How the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout Bailey’s tits different than me talkin’ ‘bout Megan’s pussy, motherfucker?”

“Prez, peep this. You can fucking
see
Bailey’s tits. Plain as fucking day. Them two hard, swollen motherfuckers needed to be addressed. Especially when this motherfucker—“ he thrust his chin to Johnnie—“was drooling the fuck over them.”

Johnnie scowled at Mort, but didn’t get a chance to respond.

“So pussy is more fucking private than tits. Tits up for discussion, since they fucking inescapable. They just…
booyah
! Right the fuck in your face.”

“You’re a sick fuck,” Johnnie said with a loud laugh.

“Say the fucking motherfucker who specialize in mental fucking brutality.”

“Both your assfucks right about the other motherfucker. You, Mort, saw Johnnie noticin’ your woman tits, so you fuckin’ decided to stake your fuckin’ claim.”

Not denying Christopher’s claim, Mort clapped Johnnie’s shoulder before following the direction his wife had gone.

Fifteen minutes later, they were bidding farewell to the newlyweds. He noticed Megan hadn’t been at Christopher’s side in a while. Now, he followed Christopher’s tender look in the direction of the sofa she’d been on earlier. Megan slept, curled up awkwardly. Sudden regret that he’d left Kendall behind surfaced in him. She would’ve loved being here with the other girls, but he’d denied her out of spite and anger.

“Christopher, can we talk?” he asked, just as Christopher scooped Megan into his arms and she settled against him, trusting him to keep her safe even in sleep.

“I have to get Megan in bed then check on CJ.”

“Are you coming to the club?” he asked unnecessarily. He already knew the answer to that.

Christopher did most of his deals and his retaliations by day, to make sure he was with his wife at night.

“Follow me, assfuck,” Christopher growled.

Walking to the staircase in the hallway, Johnnie remained right behind his brother as they headed to the third floor. Inside the master suite, Christopher nodded to the sofa in the sitting room. As he continued on to the bedroom, he threw over his shoulder a grumbled, “wait here.”

“I’ll check on Little Man,” Johnnie called.

Christopher grunted in response, but didn’t protest. That meant more time with Megan. In the nursery, down the hall, Johnnie headed to his nephew’s bed. A small light glowed in the green and white room.

Little Man slept peacefully on his back. Though a toddler, he resembled Christopher, and Johnnie couldn’t resist a smile. He slid his hand over the boy’s black hair, wondering how his own child would look at this age. Whose genes ran strongest? His? Kendall’s?

Logan’s?

Or would it be Sebastian Caldwell, his and Christopher’s father?

In the final analysis, his baby’s physical characteristics didn’t matter to Johnnie. He just wanted to meet the life he’d helped to create with Kendall.

After making sure Little Man was covered appropriately, Johnnie walked out of the nursery, wondering how long he’d have to wait for Christopher.

He went downstairs and made up a plate of food, then warmed it in the microwave. As he ate, he wondered if Kendall was hungry. Had she even stayed at the clubhouse?

She’d been so soft and yielding in his arms. He’d almost taken her. If it hadn’t been for her fucking bra, he would have. But that barrier had allowed his senses to return.

He yanked out his phone and scrolled to her old number, the one she’d never once answered him on when he’d tried to call her.

U hungry? I can bring a plate of food to u
.

Two minutes passed before she responded.

Yes.

So, she remained at the clubhouse. Fuck, the relief he felt. It didn’t mean shit. Just because she hadn’t bailed yet, didn’t mean she wouldn’t when shit got too fucking hard for her delicate feelings.

Grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, Johnnie fixed Kendall’s plate then found aluminum foil to wrap it up in.

Another ten minutes passed before Christopher sauntered in, wearing only pajama bottoms. He walked to the refrigerator just as Johnnie had done a few minutes ago and grabbed a beer, went to a cabinet and pulled a small plastic bag from the top shelf. Fresh scratches lined his back and Johnnie noticed a bite mark on his neck. Undoubtedly, courtesy of Megan.

Sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar, Christopher opened the bag, took the lone slip of cigarette paper out and prepared a roll.

“What the fuck you want?” he asked after he’d lit the joint and finished half his beer.

Johnnie wanted Christopher to know he
knew
what Kendall had done in Hawaii. He wanted to see Christopher’s reaction, see for himself that he’d spurned Kendall.

Why?

Because he was a stupid motherfucker. The disclosure would piss Christopher off and possibly send him over the edge. If Kendall confessed to Johnnie, it wasn’t a stretch to believe that Christopher would think she’d tell Megan.

Fuck. Would she tell Megan? He didn’t know. He couldn’t get a feel for her mood towards Christopher’s wife.

“Nothing.” He stood. “I have to bring food to Kendall.”