Misfit (Death Dwellers MC #6) (54 page)

Outlaw waited. Or counted. He stood still for a minute, before the door opened and Meggie stuck her head back in.

“See, baby? We fine. You ain’t even heard me raise my voice.”

Relieved, she smiled and backed out. This time, Outlaw didn’t wait. He grabbed Stretch by the throat and slammed him against the wall.

“Listen up, assfuck, you fuckin’ like
your
motherfuckin’ head on your goddamn shoulders, don’t fuckin’ ever,
ever
bring shit up to Megan. Don’t talk ‘bout fuckin’ Big Joe or Dinah and fuckin’ especially not motherfuckin’ Traveler. Don’t mention
no
fuckin’ club shit to my girl. Got me?”

His throat burning, Stretch nodded, afraid Outlaw would strangle him anyway. “I thought she knew,” he choked out.

“Don’t fuckin’
think
nothin’ about my girl. If you don’t
know
, shut the fuck up. Hear me?”

“Yes,” he said, unable to curtail the slight tremble in his voice.

Releasing him with an angry snarl, Outlaw turned to Val. “Know what, motherfucker?”

“What?” Val croaked on a flinch.

“I keep tellin’ my-fuckin-self you wasn’t fuckin stupid e-fuckin-nuff to try and force your fuckin’ cock in my wife. You one of my best fuckin’ friends
and
Bitsy old man. Ain’t matterin’ how the fuck much I press Megan, she ain’t changin’ her fuckin’ story about arguin’ over a fuckin’ dinner. If I ever get the fuckin’ proof I fuckin’ need that you fuckin’ tried to
force
yourself on my Megan while you was fuckin’ high, you fuckin’ dead. I just need real fuckin’ proof cuz that’s what the fuck she expectin’ of me. Not to kill motherfuckers randomly. To have a good fuckin’ reason to blow your fuckin’ brains out. Most days I ain’t believin’ you did something like that. Other days, like now, I ain’t too sure and it’s all I can fuckin’ do not to pull my piece and kill you.” He looked from Val to Mortician. “We all fuckin’ clear?”

“Yeah, Prez,” Mort answered as Val nodded.

The door opened again. Leaning against it to keep it open, Meggie sighed.

“Slipper and the others are getting restless. Zoann suggested we all return to the club and she’ll stay overnight.”

“You ain’t come to tell my fuckin’ ass that, Megan,” Outlaw snapped irritably. “You came to see if I fucked up these motherfuckers.”

“I did,” she admitted. “But I also really wanted to relay that message.”

Mort looked at her. “Meggie girl, we so sorry.”

She offered him a sad smile as Outlaw heaved his shoulders.

“I love you so much, Christopher,” she told him.

“I love you more than I love my own fuckin’ life, baby. Ain’t never wantin’ nothin’ to hurt you.”

“Living hurts,” she told him. “In the sense that we all have to face tragedy and heartache. How we live amidst those times,
beyond
those times, is what makes the difference.”

“Yeah, baby.” Throwing a last glower to Val and Stretch, he allowed Meggie to take his hand guide him off the landing.

Arriving back at the club at almost two-thirty in the morning, Cash joined Outlaw at his corner table with Johnnie, Val, Mort, Digger, and Stretch. Needing to be near Stretch, Cash stayed as close as possible without arousing more of Slipper’s suspicions. Cash understood both Johnnie’s and Meggie’s positions. However, with Fee in ICU and only immediate family members about to see her, Cash needed to be close to Stretch.

Every now and then, the asshole, Slipper, walked to the table, under the pretense of wanting updates, but Cash knew he was being a nosy motherfucker.

Outlaw knew it, too, and glared him away the last time. Slipper hadn’t brought his funky ass over in almost twenty minutes as brothers kept arriving to offer support and eat the breakfast Meggie and Bailey cooked.

“Should I do more coffee?” Meggie asked Outlaw around a yawn. She rubbed her eyes, reddened from all the crying she’d done and plain fatigue.

Outlaw pulled her onto his lap. “Fuck no. You tired, baby. Whatever the fuck we ain’t got, we ain’t needin’.”

“We’re out of eggs,” Bailey announced, walking to the table and stopping next to Mortician. “We need to cook more.”

“Hey, pretty girl,” he responded, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“You and Megan go the fuck to my old room, Bailey,” Outlaw ordered, kissing Meggie on the mouth. “Sleep for a minute ‘til we through out here.”

“Are you sure?” Meggie asked, getting to her feet and swaying.

Cash wondered how long she’d been awake. Probably close to twenty-four hours.

“Fuck, Megan.” Rising up, Outlaw swept her into his arms. “Follow me, Bailey.”

Bailey yawned, then kissed her husband, stumbling behind Outlaw.

Val held up his phone. As usual, he was texting his wife. “Puff said Fee sleeping peacefully.”

“She’s going to make it, right?” Stretch asked, not looking at anyone in particular, but also not covering the fear and devastation in his voice.

“Rein it the fuck in,” Johnnie warned, surprising Cash. “Christopher isn’t stupid. One look at you and he’ll know that your falling apart has to do with more than you finding her close to death.”

“Fee’s going to be fine,” Cash swore, unable to remain silent. He reminded himself he’d friend-zoned Stretch, who, in turn had placed rules upon them. If he suddenly did something stupid, like touch him in comfort, he’d create a bunch of chaos that no one needed at the moment. “She’s a Donovan. A fighter.”

“Yeah, Donovans and Caldwells not only strong enough to fight for their own lives, they crazy enough to fuck you up once they recover,” Digger said in his version of a pep talk.

Mort frowned at him.

“They is, Mort,” he said defensively. “Motherfuckers fighters
and
killers.”

“Shut it, fuckhead,” Johnnie growled as Outlaw returned to the table, his expression a stark contrast to when Meggie had been around.

Then, he’d had banked fury. Now, he let it shine through and pure rage blanketed his face. Fingers hooked in his mouth, he gave a loud whistle that brought immediate silence.

“I wanna thank all you motherfuckers for comin’ to check on my ass,” he began, walking amongst the members since the podium hadn’t been dragged from the storage closet. “My lil’ sister was fuckin’ attacked by a motherfucker named Noah Carson. Riley workin’ on gatherin’ information so I’ma call his ass and take it from there.”

Stretch raised a tablet. “I have this so you can Skype him.”

Outlaw nodded and returned to the table. “Get him the fuck up for me.”

Although Outlaw held the tablet and no one else could see the club’s PI, his voice came through loud and clear.

“Noah Carson Counts, thirty-one. President of the Torpedoes MC. The club’s a former client of the firm currently on your payroll…”

Riley’s voice droned on, but Cash stuck on the name
Counts
. Counts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Counts. Of course more than one motherfucker in the world had the name but chance wasn’t that much of a bitch that the man Kendall had introduced Fee to and then blackmailed her into keeping secret wasn’t one and the same. The very blackmail Cash and Stretch had been included in by default…Kendall had…

Fuck!

Did that mean Kendall had something to do with Fee’s stabbing? Again, coincidence wasn’t that much of a motherfucker. On the other hand,
live
bitches manipulated fucked-up situations.

Cash opened his mouth to speak. Confess.

Get himself and Stretch killed. Get Johnnie divorced—
killed
…?—in his attempt to defend Kendall when Outlaw executed her for her betrayals.

When would that bitch
ever
learn?

“Noah motherfuckin’ Carson is Noah motherfuckin’ Carson
Counts
,” Outlaw snarled to the assembled crowd.

Apparently, the call to Riley had ended and Cash missed it as he sat about to piss himself, fearing Outlaw’s wrath.

“This motherfucker livin’ on borrowed fuckin’ time for fuckin’ with my lil sister. He one of the Torps that escaped the fuckin’ bombin’. The same motherfucker been tryin’ to contact my fuckin’ ass for weeks.”

Shaking his leg in agitation, Cash shifted in his seat.

“This a club-related attack,” Outlaw continued. “Ain’t no longer just personal. Motherfucker coulda just as soon went after Megan,
any
of your bitches, to get to me cuz I ain’t wantin’ nothin’ to do with them dirty motherfuckers.”

Fuck, that meant unnecessary lockdown for the women.

“The dickhead’s living on borrowed time,” Orange called. “If I see any Torp, I’m fucking them up on the spot.”

Cash had to move fucking quick, not only to save his own ass, but to keep the girls from being cooped up on clubgrounds. That might not be so bad for Kendall. Unfortunately, he couldn’t single her out. Nor could he threaten her. Or even confront her.

Fee lay in a fucking hospital bed, fighting for her life because of a Torp…and
Kendall
. Cash was sure of it. She might not have been at the house when Noah stabbed Fee, but she was responsible for bringing the enemy amongst them.

A couple hours later, the sun beat down on Cash’s neck and shoulders as he stood in the club parking lot, searching through the glove compartment in Fee’s Ford Fusion.

After everyone came up with all types of revenge to mete out to Noah and company, Outlaw dispatched Mortician and Val to search Noah’s house. Outlaw ordered Johnnie to talk to Kendall to find out anything she might’ve remembered from her time with Spoon. To be a fly on the wall during
that
conversation.

When Cash pointed out he might be able to find some information in Fee’s car and her apartment, Outlaw put him on the job. He’d wanted an escape as much as he wanted action. He and Stretch could very well be the recipient of the torture, if Cash didn’t think of what to do.

So far, he found nothing but the usual shit—two tampons, a hair pin, car registration, proof of insurance, and the owner’s manual in the glove compartment. In the bag on her backseat, she had a folder with several monthly statements, a pair of yoga pants and a matching top and a romance novel with a dog-eared page. In the notebook also in her bag, he found a page with wish list of places she wanted to visit and another sheet where a guest list and a menu were written out. At the bottom was the question:
should I give myself a birthday party?

Several times, Cash stopped himself from holding her clothes to his nose and sniffing her scent. He was so afraid he’d lose her, that he’d never get to tell her how much he missed her, as he’d told Stretch.

If she survived, Cash would give her as many parties as she wanted. Life was fucking short and fragile, destroyed in a goddamn minute.

“Finding anything, brother?”

Startled by the sound of Slipper’s voice, Cash raised his head, bumping it on the edge of the car. “Fuck!” Backing out and straightening, he glared at Slipper. “What?”

Slipper swigged from the bottle of cheap alcohol he held. “I said have you found something we could use.”

“No. Anything else?”

“Need some company?”

“Fuck no. Next.” As usual, the motherfucker reeked of alcohol and body odor.

“You walking around without a shirt for a reason?”

“It’s fucking hot, motherfucker. Moving along.”

By the twinkle in Slipper’s eyes, the fuckhead was baiting him about Stretch, hoping he slipped up.

Noticing Kendall heading their way from the direction of the pathway that led to the houses, Slipper whistled. “Look who the saints brought out. That’s a gorgeous bitch. I want to fuck her raw.”

“Who?” Cash asked in confusion.

“Kendall,” Slipper slurred, swaying on his feet.

A gorgeous bitch with the heart of a viper. He reminded himself she was also Johnnie’s old lady. He wouldn’t appreciate another motherfucker talking about her as Slipper was. He had no love for Kendall, but, as Johnnie’s woman, he’d protect her.

“Go the fuck home, asshole, and sleep off your alcohol. Stop talking about Kendall before you get your ass killed.”

“Fucking whore.”

Cash snorted and pulled Fee’s bag out, setting it on the trunk to continue searching through it. “Ever tell Johnnie that about his woman?”

“We all know she’s a slut. She fucked her way through life. Tried to give pussy to Outlaw. She still want to. I bet if that cunt got to fuck Outlaw in exchange for letting John Boy getting in Meggie’s pussy, she’d agree.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Cash warned. “If I kick your fucking ass on behalf of her, I’ll have to tell John Boy why and he wouldn’t be happy.”

“What’s it to you, brother? Why are you getting in a snit?”

“Outlaw would tell us she deserves our respect as Johnnie’s old lady.” For that reason, he’d be the first to defend her. For so many others, he’d be the first to kill her.

Slipper scowled. “Me and my boys on her guard detail sometimes. I can’t stand that assignment. She orders us around like we’re shit. The bitch thinks she’s better than us. I just told my boys we need to bring her down a peg or two. Remind her she’s nothing special. Club bitches come a dime a dozen. All their whores can be replaced at any time, but especially that uppity slut.”