Misfit (Death Dwellers MC #6) (81 page)

Driving away, Fee settled in for the long drive back home, hope that she’d beat Cash and Stretch to her apartment diminishing. She was busted because she’d gotten lost, and would have to give a detailed explanation about her excursion.

By the time Fee got halfway to Hortensia, darkness had fallen. There didn’t appear to be another soul on the two-lane road as she sped along the curves.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a pair of headlights glared in her rearview mirror, hurting her eyes. She accelerated, but not fast enough. The car rammed her from behind, sending her into a tailspin as she lost control.

Fee screamed, gripping the steering wheel to correct the careening car. It slid into the brush on the side of the road, and she slammed on the brakes as it hit a tree.

Banged up but alive, Fee opened the door and stumbled from the car, her heart pounding in her chest.

The headlights from the other vehicle shone on her and she raised her hands to shield her vision. The driver got out of the car. Stepping out of the glare, he raised a gun and pointed it at her head.

Noah Counts grinned at her. “Hello, Fee.”

Where the fuck was Fee?

After trying to reach her for two fucking hours and failing, Cash went from ire to concern. When he’d left, she hadn’t told him she intended to leave. It was past dinner time. Stretch was on the way home, and food was ordered. She had a special ringtone for him, so she knew he was calling her and, yet, she wouldn’t answer.

So where the fuck was she?

Unable to contain his anxiety, especially with Counts still on the loose, he called Meggie on her cell.

“Hey.” Meggie’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“Hey, Sweetness. Am I disturbing something?” he asked, referring to whether Outlaw was near or not, without actually asking.

“No. I just put Ryder down for the night. What’s up?”

“Fee.” He tried to keep the alarm out of his voice, not wanting to worry Meggie without cause. “Is she there?”

“No. Isn’t she at her apartment?”

“No. I’m here. She isn’t.”

“Let me call Zoann. I’m sure there’s an explanation for this.”

“Thanks, honey,” he said, unease slipping into him. He knew Fee.  If she could, she’d answer her phone.

Jesus!

Within five minutes, Meggie called back. Fee wasn’t at Zoann’s and no one had seen her that day.

“Fuck!” Cash thought about all the places she could be. Not many. Outlaw’s house, Johnnie’s or Zoann’s, if she wasn’t at her apartment, the club, or Cash’s house. Their conversation this morning came back to him…Fuck. She wouldn’t. Kendall? Would she find her way to Kendall for a visit? “I know where she might be. Give me a few minutes and I’ll call you back.”

“Okay.”

Hanging up, he shook his head. Fee was a Donovan. Outlaw’s sister. Those Caldwells and Donovans had a certain gene that made them reckless. He’d told her Kendall’s location and Cash would bet the fucking farm that’s where Fee was.

He dialed Kendall’s number.

“Cash?”

“Yeah, Kendall. I hate to disturb you, but I need to speak to Fee.” He didn’t ask if she was there, certain that she was.

“She left hours ago. She should’ve been home by now.” Concern laced her tone. “Have you tried Meggie?”

“No,” he lied, not wanting to upset Kendall when she was so far away from everyone, considering all she’d gone through, even if she’d caused most of it.

“I’ll call there. Thanks.” He hung up before she responded or he let the truth slip. Fee was missing.

Heaving in a deep breath to calm his fear, Cash walked to the refrigerator and got a beer out, then took a long swallow. Before calling Meggie and alerting Outlaw, he’d try Fee one more time.

This time, he got an answer.

“Who the fuck is this?” The enraged male voice blasted through her phone.

“Who the fuck is this?” Cash blared back.

“Help me!” Fee cried. “Counts has me. Help me, Cash. Please.”

“Shut the fuck up, Ophelia,” Counts barked.

“You’re a walking dead motherfucker,” Cash snarled, already moving, grabbing his keys and running out of the apartment, fury competing with fear.

“She’s a
current
dead bitch.”

Gunfire and a scream made Cash’s blood run cold before the line went dead.

“I want some pussy, Megan.”

It disappointed Christopher to walk into their bedroom to find her still dressed. He would’ve thought she’d be waiting for him after the way she teased the fuck out of him over dinner and in the den, wearing a short fucking dress and bending over when they were alone to tease him with hints of pussy hairs.

“Cash called while I was putting Ryder down,” she said. “Ten minutes ago. He’s looking for Fee. Have you talked to her today?”

Christopher halted, his hard dick deflating at the worry in Megan’s voice. “Ain’t she at Bitsy?”

“She left Christopher. Three days ago.”

Why didn’t he know that? Oh, yeah, because he’d acted like a dickhead and pushed her away.

“She ain’t visitin’ one of her fuckin’ friends,” he persisted, refusing to make the jump that something fucked-up was going on.

“I don’t know. Cash said not to worry. He’s at her apartment, waiting for her and she hasn’t come home. She won’t answer her phone. I’ve tried her, too.”

So Cash was staying with her. Christopher didn’t have the energy to be angry.

“Lemme call Stretch, baby. I’ll have him track her.” As he pulled his phone out of his cut, it rang. Cash’s name came across the screen. “This Cash right now,” he said, and answered. “You got my sister?”

“Noah has her.”

Those three words stopped Christopher’s world. “What the fuck you mean?”

“He has her, Outlaw.”

“Fuck. I’m on my way to the clubhouse. Stretch gonna track her—”

“I love her,” Cash interrupted in a monotone. “
We
love her. We can’t lose her. Outlaw—”

“Shut the fuck up, Cash. I ain’t much carin’ no more. I’ma still kick the fuck outta you for disobeyin’ me, but I just want my little sister back.”

“Outlaw—”

“Hang this motherfucker up,” Christopher yelled. “Take your balls in your hand and pull your motherfuckin’ ass together. Meet me at the club.”

Christopher didn’t give Cash a chance to respond. He hung up himself, then turned to Megan. “Noah got Fee,” he said, holding his shit together by a thread. “I gotta…Fuck, Megan!”

She stood on her tiptoes and hugged him. “You’ll get her back.”

“Megan, I was so fuckin’ fucked up to her. Now, suppose I ain’t able to make it up to her?”

Never mind what she’d done to him, she’d begged his forgiveness, but he hadn’t wanted to listen. This was his fault. He hadn’t even put a guard detail at her place. He tensed. Now, she was gone.

Megan’s arms tightened around him.

“Me, more than any motherfucker, know how quick life can go.”

Megan took his face between her hands. “We all know. Just get her back, then we’ll figure everything else out.”

Christopher nodded. “You right, baby.”

He’d hold onto Megan’s words until he saw his little sister again. He wanted to tell her about Cash professing his love for Fee, but he couldn’t find the words. All he heard was Cash’s heartache. Something he identified with. Each and every time Megan was hurt, Christopher couldn’t think beyond that and he would’ve laid down his life to have her safe, healthy, and happy again.

Her ears ringing from the report of the gun, Fee waited to feel the bullet slicing into her. Glass exploded around her and she screamed again. Noah yanked her head back, using her hair and shoved the gun in her face.

After forcing her into his van at gunpoint, he’d driven her back to Hortensia, daring her to move if she didn’t want to be shot, ignoring Cash’s calls, until he’d finally gotten frustrated enough to answer. He’d come to the same clearing Stretch had taken her to. To kill her.

“You got everybody against me. My club members are in hiding. You’ve ruined everything. It took me forever to track you because of how long you were at Outlaw’s place. Then, that first night you were home, I watched you sleep. I should’ve killed you then.”

She’d felt something was off. That’s why she’d called Cash and Stretch, but none of them had been able to find anything out of place. She wouldn’t question why he hadn’t killed her then. She was grateful that he hadn’t.

“I wanted you, so I decided to let you live. To terrorize you a little bit, before I took pussy from you and then killed you. I wanted to feel the blood drain from you as I fucked you.”

“Noah…” She drew in a deep breath, trying to control her fear. She could tell him he didn’t want to do that, but he
did,
so that wouldn’t work. If she could disarm him, she might have a chance of getting away. “I-I’ll…”
Fuck you
died on her lips. Suppose she didn’t get away? Then, he’d still kill her.

“You’ll what, slut? Suck me off to save your fucking life? Give me your ass? What?”

None of the above. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest, so fast her head began to hurt and dizziness swirled around her. If she fainted, would he allow her to live? If she got the chance, would she kill him?

She didn’t want him to die. She just wanted to disable him.

“Put the gun down, Noah,” she said as calmly as possible. “I understand you’re angry with me and want me to die. But if…if you give me a chance, I’ll call my brother. I-I heard him s-say he was willing to talk to you because you-you let me live.”

Moonlight glimmered into the car, allowing Fee to see Noah’s consideration. He seemed as if he bought her words. That’s how badly he wanted Christopher. Or his help.
Something.

Slowly, he lowered the gun, but kept it in his hand. Fee knew this was as good as she’d get. She had to act now or suffer the consequences.

Striking quickly, she shoved him against the door, stunning him. That wasn’t good enough. Grabbing his hair, she banged his head against the window, wincing at the crack that opened in the glass. He fell against the door, unconscious, the gun dropping to the floor. Those were details she couldn’t concern herself with. She needed to get away and hide.

She took her phone, opened the door, and ran as fast as she could out of the clearing. If Noah found her, he’d kill her.

She needed…The sound of Harley pipes reached her ears a moment before a line of them roared into view. Some of them surrounded her and the rest ringed Noah’s van.

Christopher broke away and came to her, pulling her into his arms and hugging her. “One of your motherfuckers bringin’ you back to the club,” he said gruffly. “Cash, since Stretch at the club making sure you not movin’ from where he first tracked you. Megan and Zoann waitin’ for you, so we can take care of this motherfucker.”

She held onto her brother, remembering Stretch telling her about his obsessive tracking. Undoubtedly, they’d found her by tracking her phone.

“Fee?” Cash said from behind her.

Christopher stiffened, then drew in a deep breath. After a moment, he released her, then nodded to Cash and sped toward the vehicle with Noah.

Getting off his bike, Cash took her into his arms and hugged her to him, cradling the back of her head. “Fuck, Fee. If you…”

The sound of gunfire interrupted Cash’s words.

“Christopher!” she cried, wiggling to get away from Cash. “Noah must’ve shot him.”

“No, babe. I’m sure
he
got Noah.”

“He hugged me. I think he’s forgiven me.” Not only that he’d said to go home with
one
of her motherfuckers. “He knows about us.”

“I told him, Fee. I…Goddamnit, I can’t tell you what it felt like when I heard your scream. I thought I’d lost you.”

Christopher rode up again. “Noah belong to you and Stretch, Cash.”

“You already killed him.”

“I already made him fuckin’ bleed. He still alive. I restrained myself. Val usin’ his van to drive him back to the club. After you two motherfuckers fuck him up, I want you assfucks to report to my fuckin office.”

Fee didn’t like the sound of that, but since Cash didn’t seem worried, neither would she.

Hating to leave Fee, Cash brought her to Stretch’s room before heading to the meatshack, to meet Mortician. It didn’t surprise him that Stretch elected to stay behind, having lost his desire for revenge fuck-ups. On the other hand, Outlaw wanted to be there terribly bad, but Fee belonged to Cash and he intended to avenge her. This would be the first time he’d ever been in the place on his own, with only the club’s enforcer hanging back to finish up.

Mort nodded to Noah, stripped, gagged, secured to the table, and trembling. Outlaw had shot him in the leg but left him otherwise untouched. The man had amazing restraint when it suited him. “It took me, Val, and Digger to get this wiggling motherfucker from the van to this fucking table.”

“Where’s Johnnie and Outlaw?” Cash asked, lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to fuck Noah up quick or torture him first. “They didn’t help.”

“C’mon, brother, you know better than that. Prez want to fuck him up. John Boy, too. If they’d touched him, they wouldn’t have left much of him for you.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that. Puffing on his cigarette, Cash walked around the table.

“You don’t have a clue what the fuck to do, huh?” Mort asked, the amusement in his words irking Cash. “Can I make a few suggestions?”

“Suggest on,” Cash said, not wanting to admit that Mort was right in his assessment. The power of life and death in his hands gave him a heady feeling and fucked with him at the same time.

“Think about your woman. How he stabbed her the fuck up. Think about her fear. Her healing.
Your
fear when you didn’t know if she’d make it.” Mort held up a rolled oil rag. “If you like me, all the tools you need in there.”

Cash took the bundle from Mort and found a stiletto, utility knife, pocket blade, and a machete. “No wonder you’re the enforcer, Mort.”

Picking up a knife, Mort went to Noah’s other side. The motherfucker laid on the table, crying like the sniveling coward he was. With a rag stuffed in his mouth, he couldn’t talk but the fear in his eyes satisfied Cash to no end.

Mort used the stiletto and jabbed Noah a couple of times in different parts of his body. “If it was me, that’s how I’d start. Feel me?”

Blood oozed from Noah’s wounds and dripped from the knife, settling Cash’s nerves. He picked up the machete and hacked at Noah’s knee. For the moment, he wanted to miss the vital areas, so he wouldn’t bleed to death before Cash finished.

“You need my help?” Mort asked. “Or you got it covered.”

“I have it covered. Thanks.”

Satisfied, Mort stepped back and leaned against the counter, enjoying his own cigarette, unconcerned at Cash’s punctures to various parts of Noah’s body or the motherfucker moaning around the gag.

“You wanted her dead,” Cash fumed, in a frenzy by now. “
My
Fee, fucker. Do you know what it did to me when I got the news? You slit her throat.”

He wouldn’t last much longer, not with all the holes in him. The dazed plea in Noah’s eyes left Cash unmoved. He also understood why Johnnie liked torture. There was a beauty to it, an adrenaline rush that a simple kill couldn’t give.

He frowned at that thought. If his mother saw him now, filled with bloodlust, his hands stained red, she’d shit herself.

Noah groaned, drawing Cash’s attention back to him.

Grabbing the machete, Cash thrust the tip into the side of Noah’s neck. A moment of terror entered the man’s eyes before Cash lifted the weapon and struck, sending Noah’s head flying.