A Very Christopher Christmas (A Death Dwellers MC Novella) (28 page)

Instead, he was going to face the blue eyes that regarded him suspiciously because she knew Christopher so very well.
 

Very few things in life were guaranteed. Death. Taxes. Rain. Sunshine.
 

And Christopher keeping in touch with his wife. Megan knew she could count on a call from him when he was away at least once a day, as surely as she knew somewhere in the world the sun would shine.
 

Unless Christopher was dead.
 

Fuck. No. Christopher couldn’t be dead. What the fuck was Johnnie supposed to do without his brother? Worse, if he were gone, he’d died hating Johnnie.
 

The thought immobilized him and he halted, not caring he was getting soaked. Not caring about much except returning Christopher to them and getting Kendall safely back. Hugging her. Holding her. Loving her.
 

After he read her the fucking riot act for all she’d done.
 

Then, somehow, they’d find a way to move forward. Without Christopher.
 

Without Christopher. Who would’ve thought Johnnie would ever face this day? Christopher had always seemed so indestructible.
 

It was fucking ridiculous that a grown fucking man Johnnie’s age considered another motherfucker invincible. But to Johnnie, that was Christopher. The man had more lives than a fucking cat.
 

The cold rain fell harder and a chill traveled along Johnnie’s spine. Moving again, he hurried to Christopher’s and Megan’s house. It was a shining jewel. A huge brick and stucco Palladian boasting  a moat and a drawbridge with an electric gate.
 

But that was Christopher. Over the top and larger-than-life. Had Johnnie ever told him how much he appreciated and admired him?
 

Punching in the code on the gate that led onto the property, Johnnie hurried up the walkway toward the drawbridge. Once the gate raised, he crossed the moat and approached the front door. As he drew closer, he realized the door gaped open.
 

Drawing his Glock as all other thoughts fell away, Johnnie hurried inside. “Megan?” he called, water dripping from him and onto the floor. “Megan?”
 

No answer.
 

His gut telling him he wasn’t alone, Johnnie hurried from the hallway and entered the den, training his weapon in all directions but finding no one. Running to the kitchen, he paused.
 

Puddles of blood trailed toward the mudroom.
 

Adrenaline and blood lust pumping through him, Johnnie inched forward, to the other side of the kitchen. Staying out of the line of fire by leaning against the wall and peeping into the darkness, he stopped and listened at the entrance to the mudroom.
 

One brief inhalation gave the intruder away.
 

His heart pounding with excitement, Johnnie honed his hearing again, searching for location. Straight ahead and slightly angled to the right.
 

Gun paused and ready, Johnnie aimed and fired, rewarded with a grunt and the sound of a body dropping to the floor. Following the sound, he hurried closer and shot once more, enjoying the warm spray of blood on his face. He turned and flipped on the light. There, blocking the doorway, lay the body of an unknown motherfucker, sporting a hole in the cheek and one in the neck.
 

Not bad, considering he’d fired blindly. But now he could clearly see the dead fucker. Smell the blood and bowels released with the violence of his death.
 

Johnnie’s mouth dried at the sudden letdown he felt. He had no one else to kill.
 

Frustrated, he stood over the fucker who’d broken into Christopher’s house and emptied the clip into his head.
 

The easy kill disgusted him, but he still had the challenge of finding Megan once he searched the entire house and found no sign of her. Only her cell phone, forgotten on the floor in the kitchen.
 

Returning to the mudroom, he studied his kill as he dialed Cash’s number, explaining the situation when the man answered. “Is she there by any chance?”
 

“No.”
 

“Fuck. Come get this dead motherfucker and bring him to the meat shack. I told her I was going to my house. She might’ve escaped fuckhead and went looking for me.”
 

“Or she might’ve fallen into the hands of another motherfucker, Johnnie,” Cash snapped. “You shouldn’t be fucking talking to me. You should be looking for her.”
 

“I am as of right now.”
 

 

Water pelting her from all direction, Meggie reached Johnnie’s house. The night was dark, cold, and rainy, and she had little protection from the elements. Or from the man she’d stabbed.
 

Even now, he might be chasing her to kill and dismember as he had…
 

Falling to her knees, she doubled over, unable to endure the grief swamping her. Her mouth opened but no sound came out, only a silent scream of agony. She crawled forward and pounded on Johnnie’s door.
 

He wasn’t home.
 

She needed him to be home. She had to tell him that Christopher was dead. She retched again, then staggered to her feet, stumbling forward. Warm wetness slid down her legs and a cramp tore through her. But she kept moving. Stumbling. Mumbling. Remembering.
 

The moment she’d ever seen Christopher he’d frightened her, but also immediately captivated her. Then, days later, she’d never felt as safe and protected as the first time he’d taken her in his arms after he’d made her cry. The night he’d taken her virginity because she’d wanted no one else but him. His combination of vulnerability and bad assery made him the man he was.
 

The image in that video pounded through her head again.
 

Had been
. Because he no longer
was.
He was dead.
 

She tripped over a fallen tree branch at the thought as a contraction slammed into her, so hard it almost took her breath away. When it passed, she staggered to her feet and glanced around, greeted by nothing but forest.
 

It didn’t matter.
 

Meggie just wanted to escape her grief.
 

She just wanted Christopher.
 

 

Raindrops pattered on the leaves and beat down upon Johnnie’s head. He circled the flashlight in the area beyond his house, close to the cave, and started to turn away, when a glint of white caught his eye. He raised the flashlight higher.
 

Megan.
 

Soaking wet, wearing only a long white nightgown, and stumbling toward him. She had to be freezing. He ran the rest of the way to Megan, took her into his arms and hugged her. The rain had cleared the blood away from him. Even if it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have cared.
 

“C-cold,” she managed, trembling, and clinging to him. “Christopher’s dead.”
 

“Megan. We don’t know that.” He couldn’t continue to lie to her when he was certain the attack at the house was connected to Christopher’s disappearance. “You have to pull yourself together.”
 

“No! He’s dead.” She let out a sob. “D-dead. D-dead. D-dead,” she chanted, her body jerking as she moaned and grabbed her belly.
 

He swept her into his arms and walked deeper into the forest instead of turning back toward their houses. The cave was closer, safer on this wet, rainy night.
 

She didn’t question him, instead laying her head against his shoulder. Inside the cave, he sat Megan on the ground. Because of the transfer of the crates almost ten days ago, matches, half empty oil lamps, and a bunch of muddy blankets, used to try and cover the crates, were piled in a corner.
 

“I’m c-cold, J-Johnnie.” Megan was shaking and trembling so terribly, he could barely make sense of her words. “H-he pr-promised. H-he s-said h-he w-was c-c-coming ba-back t-to m-me.”
 

“Shhh,” he soothed, ignoring his own fears about Christopher. His priority now was warming her up. Hurriedly, he lit the candles, then grabbed a few blankets. After fashioning a pallet, he guided her back and covered her with another blanket. “Christopher is coming back to you.”
 

“Don’t you know?” she sobbed. “He’s dead.” Crying out, she curled up and clutched her belly. “It hurts!”
 

Johnnie closed his eyes, regretting his decision not to take her to his house or her own. If he’d brought her back, he would’ve been able to get her warmed quicker. Towels were there to dry her off. Warm water. Alcohol. A nice, soft bed she could lay in until an ambulance arrived.
 

“I have to get your wet clothes off.”
 

She curled into a tight ball. “It hurts.”
 

He touched her cheek, then rubbed her back. “You’re freezing and I’m cold, too.”
 

“I’m having the baby,” she whimpered. As the words escaped her, she arched her back, crying out in pain. “I’m in labor.”
 

“It’s okay, sweetheart.
 

“No. It isn’t. I can’t lose Ryder. I’m scheduled for a C-section, but the baby is due weeks away.”
 

And they were deep in the forest, in a cave that would be almost impossible for EMTs to find. Not to mention it would allow officials further onto the club grounds than any of them had ever been.
 

“Do you trust me, Megan?”
 

She nodded, devastation in her eyes.
 

“Christopher isn’t dead.” He couldn’t be. Somehow, he’d know.
Wouldn’t he?
As close as he and Christopher were, he
would know
if his brother was dead.
 

“Yes! Christopher’s gone. Someone pretended to be a deliveryman,” she started. “He showed me a video on a phone.”
 

“Well, that explains how he got in,” he said with a sigh. “But you don’t have to worry about him.”
 

“I saw Christopher,” she whispered, sounding almost dazed and traumatized. “His body. His head was covered with a hood, but I saw the cut.”
 

She finished on another pitiful sob and fear threaded through Johnnie.
Was
Christopher dead? Despite all their differences, he knew Christopher always had his back. He knew the love Christopher carried for his family included Johnnie. He’d always gone out of his way to protect Johnnie, include Johnnie, and encourage Johnnie.
 

What had he been given in return?
 

No, Christopher couldn’t be dead. He needed to be alive so Johnnie could make up for all the infractions he’d committed against him.
 

“No, Christopher isn’t dead.” He couldn’t accept that. He refused to believe it “Whatever you saw isn’t true, Megan!”
 

“I saw him,” she reiterated weakly.
 

Instead of arguing with her any more, he got his cell phone and called Cash, to update him. “Find out the truth,” he ordered.
 

“Should I call 911 first for Megan?”
 

“Find Christopher. Find out if he’s alive or dead. I’ll get Megan from the cave myself. Just find my brother.”
Alive
.
 

“Keep your shit together to take care of Meggie, Johnnie.”