Misfit (Death Dwellers MC #6) (2 page)

Ophelia Donovan handed the cab driver her fare and departed the vehicle, anxious to forget her cousin-in-law’s latest stunt. Though she’d never work for Kendall again, they’d moved past their differences and settled into a friendship.

But...but…
Jesus
. If Christopher discovered what had gone on in the bridal shop, he’d kill Kendall, despite Fee’s assurances to otherwise. Kendall’s death would dampen Bunny’s growing excitement the closer her wedding date got. Fee didn’t care to consider what Kendall, dying at the hands of Christopher, would do to Meggie. Johnnie. Rory. Matilda.

How could Kendall even fix her mouth to say what she had
again
, after the issue had been addressed and resolved?

Huffing, Fee appreciated
the quiet neighborhood she stood in. The small house with the neat lawn in front of her symbolized her moving past Cash and Stretch. Recovering from the heartache of their relationship hadn’t been easy, but she’d faced much worse than losing the two men she loved with all her heart. 
Had loved.

She’d definitely moved past them.

Definitely.

Strike two for her afternoon. She hoped visiting Noah would calm her, the very reason she’d elected not to return to the club with Kendall and Johnnie, certain their argument raged on. No, thank you.

Maybe, tonight, she’d sleep with Noah. Cash’s and Stretch’s faces rose in her head and she grimaced.

Maybe, she wouldn’t sleep with Noah tonight.

“You’ll never know if you don’t ring the bell,” she scolded herself.

Rubbing a hand over her brow to wipe away sweat, she forced her legs to move.

“Hey, girl,” Noah said, when he opened his door to allow her entry.

“Hey.”

Walking into his scarcely furnished house, she smiled at him and set her hobo bag on the counter. Her stomach didn’t erupt in flutters in Noah’s presence as they had with Cash, nor did she feel the calming influence of Stretch. Noah had a similar look and height. Like her lost loves, her new beau had blue eyes and brown hair.

And
he was a biker.
And
he lived in Cash’s neighborhood, about a block and a half away. Deep down, accepting a date from Noah had more to do with Cash and Stretch than it had to do with Noah.

Visiting someone so close to Cash’s house, she’d hoped to run into him.

No such luck. She barely saw him or Stretch at the clubhouse anymore.

Their threesome was truly over.

Noah clapped his hands right next to her head and she jumped. “What the hell are you thinking about?”

“My friend’s wedding,” she answered, swiping her hair off her neck, murmuring in approval at the cold air blowing on her from the overhead a/c vent. “It’s so hot today.”

Folding his arms, Noah leaned against the counter that separated his kitchen from his living room. He didn’t even have a dining space like she had in her apartment. “What friend is that?”

“Bunny. Remember I told you she’s marrying the sergeant-at-arms?” She kicked off her flip-flips and plopped down in one of his two bean bag seats. “The wedding is a huge deal so she’s planning away. I’m one of the bridesmaids.”

“Your sister-in-law is matron-of-honor, if I remember.”

Fee grinned at Noah, attentive and thoughtful like Stretch, but the complete opposite of Cash. Her smile faded away. “Um, yeah,” she said with less enthusiasm as memories of Cash and Stretch swamped her. “Meggie is matron-of-honor.”

“And Outlaw?”

Noah wanted a meeting with Christopher. Since her brother had no idea she dated a biker, Fee doubted a meeting would ever be arranged if she had to be involved.

The Torpedoes—Noah’s MC—was a former support club to the Dwellers and current club enemy thanks to their former president. According to Kendall, rivals of both the Dwellers and the Torps, bombed their clubhouse and they’d lost the majority of their members. According to
Noah,
the Torps were regrouping, with all the bad apples purged.

He walked to her and held out his hand, drawing her into his arms and nuzzling her neck the moment she stood. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispered in a husky tone that had no effect on her.

“That’s why you’ve been blowing up my phone.”

She threw her head back to allow easier access, wanting a spark to ignite within her. But she remained uninspired at his touch and words.

“Do you know why I haven’t called you in four days?” he whispered, his hot breath fanning her cheek, annoying her instead of exciting her.

“You think you’re punishing me because I won’t get you a meeting with my brother.”

“I’m out of goodwill, time and patience.” He chuckled and nipped her earlobe. “Interesting you should stop by after the very enlightening conversation I had with Kendall Donovan about fifteen or twenty minutes ago.”

“Kendall? How do you know…?” Her voice trailed off, a memory of a lunch date she and Kendall had coming to her.

Noah licked her cheek. “I see you’ve put it together,” he said, low, sounding like the man named Counts who Kendall had introduced her to. “Noah Carson Counts at your service, Ophelia.” He tightened his hold on her. “Let me assist you a little more. I had a sister named Daphne. One of your brother’s Bobs. I haven’t spoken to her in weeks. Know why?”

Oh, yes, she knew why. Some might even hold Fee accountable. It wouldn’t matter that Kendall hadn’t given her a choice.

“It’s time to get Outlaw’s attention once and for all. If my sister’s expendable, his is, too. Once I square up with him, all will be good, and I’ll still accept his help.”

Fee frowned at Noah’s words, fear traveling through her. She didn’t have a good track record with men. Either she fell for dudes with commitment issues, some type of emotional trauma, or she chose abusive assholes.

After Cash and Stretch, she’d told herself she was done with guys. She’d join the other team or be celibate for the rest of her life.

Of course, watching Johnnie and Kendall go at it gave
her
trauma. For two people who loved each other, they couldn’t go for long without arguing. Definitely not the type of relationship she wanted.

“You traipse into my house, uninvited, as if you’re my old lady.” Noah’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Not only haven’t you come with what I want to hear, but I just found out about Daphne. Or…have you decided to give me pussy? Is that why you stopped by?”

She shook her head, attempting to inch past him, not liking the vibes wafting from him. The building anger in his eyes alarmed her. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d say hello.”

One moment changed the course of life. The mundane became the maudlin that only time healed. Fee had had several such instances that turned her world upside down. Christopher’s and Zoann’s shootings. Her mother’s death. Fee’s abuse at the hands of her ex-boyfriend. The murder of her sisters and nieces.

Each time, she lived in blissful ignorance, never guessing the next minute would upend everything.

Unlike now.

A moment before Noah lunged, she
saw
his intentions by the reddening of his face. The change in his features might’ve been funny, if it wasn’t so scary.

She sprang for the door. Except
he
stood between her and freedom. He tackled her, slamming her to the wood floor. Pain jarred her head, back, and legs,

Tears filling her eyes, she raised up on all fours and crawled toward the door. Noah’s boot met her stomach before he dragged her to her feet, then punched her down. She gasped and curled into a ball.

Noah grabbed her bag and opened it, pouring the contents out. Coins pinged on the floor, followed by her cellphone, a pen, her wallet.

She closed her eyes, popping them open a moment later at Noah’s growl.

“Condoms?” He loomed above her. “Fucking slut.”

If she didn’t move, he’d kick her in the head. Forcing herself into motion, she grabbed his ankle and lifted herself up, shoving him backwards at the same time. She caught him off-guard and he slammed to his ass, granting her freedom.

Not bothering with her belongings, Fee skirted him. Catching the back of her shirt and the waistband of her shorts, he lifted her again, ignoring her wiggles and screams.

“I can kill you and bring your body to Outlaw. If he thinks I recovered you and want to help find your murderer, I’ll get his attention and gain his trust.”

“Christopher isn’t stupid,” she snarled. “He’ll know. He’ll figure it out.” Her brother figured
everything
out.

Noah lost his hold on her again, dropping her to the floor. Ignoring her pain, she scrambled to her feet, cursing the lack of an available weapon.

As he came toward her, Fee met him head on, raising her foot to deliver a kick to his junk.

She positioned herself too soon. he grabbed her ankle, unbalancing her again. She crashed to the floor. He kicked her thigh, grunting in satisfaction at the sound of her agonized cry.

Sobbing, Fee tried to drag herself to the door. If she could get outside, she’d free herself of this nightmare. Instead, he gripped a handful of her hair and tipped her head back.

“Now, you die,” he spat, puffing out breaths.

Placing the blade of a knife to her neck, he sliced, ignoring her struggles, screams, and tears. The cut stung, burned, and throbbed.

Warm wetness slid down her throat, sensation in her body floating away, her surroundings blurring. The blade of the knife descended toward her thigh, piercing it. She gurgled a cry, tears sliding down her cheeks.

A knock cut through her hazy brain. Or had she imagined it? The doorbell rang and hope swelled within her. She tried to scream, but she had no sound.

Noah stabbed her again.

“Pl-plea...” Too difficult to speak, Fee closed her eyes and awaited death.

Three months earlier

Winter clung to its last gasp in a burst of late March frost that chilled Fee to her bones. Stars dotted the sky, twinkling in the clear, cold night. Burrowing into her jacket, she hurried from her car to the clubhouse door, acknowledging the Probates guarding the sea of bikes, sprinkling of cars, and a crowd of party-goers spilling into the parking lot. Music vibrated from inside the building, pulsing through Fee, heightening her eagerness for fun.

Another Probate opened the door, granting her entry.

“Thank you,” she said, stepping into a place brimming with laughter and noise.

Instead of breaching the wall of people blocking her, she halted, waiting a few minutes to inch forward. Reaching the game area separated by wooden rails, she craned her neck, searching for two faces in particular. If she found one, she’d find the other.

They
weren’t playing pool or even nearby. Three bikers surrounded one table. Two of them held cue sticks, while the other positioned himself for a shot. At another pool table…
well
. A naked girl laid on the table, her legs spread, offering the world a glimpse of her lady bits. She thrusted her tits up and jiggled, tempting the man already drooling over her display.

As the guy dove between the girl’s legs, Fee dragged her attention away. Her heart pounded in embarrassment and desire, an odd combination, considering she’d never engage in public sex.

Forging ahead, she weaved through the throng, until she reached the back corner table and halted. She’d found one of her bikers.

Cash reared back in a chair, smiling at one of the women surrounding him while another stood at his other side, whispering in his ear. Four additional girls sat at the table, all of them naked.

Jealousy hit her hard, a little worse than the times the feeling reared up over Stretch. Sex between the three of them had its perks and pitfalls. Cash included both of them when they hooked up. Seeing him with the girls and
without
Stretch clued Fee in. Tonight, Cash intended to fuck random people. No wonder she hadn’t heard from him in days.

Fee redirected her steps to the bar, glad that Christopher and Johnnie were long since gone. She spied an unoccupied stool and hastened to it, ignoring the scowls of the bikers and glares of the women.

After a long few days at work, she wanted to unwind. She hadn’t seen Cash and Stretch in a week, so she’d taken matters into her own hands and searched them out. It had been easier to see them during the short time she’d lived with Christopher and Meggie, at his insistence, after the deaths of their sisters and nieces.

Neither Christopher or Meggie had forced her out, but Fee returned to her apartment a few weeks later. Besides, her brother forbade her involvement with a biker, and she wanted
two.

Somehow, Zoann had convinced Christopher of Val’s worthiness. Fee craved the same.

“What can I get you, Fee?”

“Hey, Potter,” she greeted yet another Probate. Recognition at the club made her feel accepted and removed her overwhelming grief, for a little while. “A beer.”

He nodded, then turned to get her order. “Outlaw and Meggie left a couple hours ago,” he said once he slid her a cold bottle.

Taking a deep taste, she sighed in pleasure. “I figured.” Otherwise, she wouldn’t have come.

“You want me to call Prez? It’s crazy around here.”

As if to illustrate the point, a hoarse shout rose above the other noise. Christopher would come running to rescue her. He’d also read her the riot act for subjecting herself to the orgy-in-the-making.

Fee’s shoulders slumped, the beer or the party no longer appealing to her. She
shouldn’t
have come. Both Cash and Stretch had her address and her cell phone number. If they wanted her, they knew how to find her.

She tasted more of her beer.

After her mother’s death, she’d floundered, dropping out of film school and losing interest in life. Despite her own problems, Zoann hadn’t allowed Fee to give up, insisting she return to the land of the living.

Fee had just conquered her grief when a crazy man gunned down her sisters and nieces last year, crumbling her world all over again. She didn’t know what to do, where to go, or who to go to. Both Christopher and Zoann had their own families, though they’d move heaven and hell to help Fee.

At the end of the day, they’d return to their spouses and their children. What Fee wanted most was her own family. Marriage to Cash and his kids.

“Fee?” Stretch’s beer-laced breath fanned her ear and the side of her neck. “What are you doing here?”

Licking droplets of beer from her lips, she turned toward him, warmed by his smile. Locks of brown hair fell across his forehead, his blue eyes drinking her in. If not for the scar running on the left side of his face, he’d be perfect.

“I came to see Cash,” she said, close to his ear, still shouting over the din of the crowd. “And you.”

Stretch’s disapproval at her answer didn’t bode well, but Fee preferred a clean break. Waiting to hear from them wore on her.

Tapping his fingers on the bar, Stretch searched her face. “Potter, give me a beer. Call me when it settles down in here,” he instructed the man after he got his drink. “Come on.”

He clutched her elbow and helped her off the stool, waiting until she grabbed her nearly empty bottle of beer. His uneven gait slowed their progress, but he got them to Cash’s table.

“Cash,” Stretch called.

Grinning, Cash lifted his head from between the breasts of a girl with white-blonde hair. He caught Fee’s gaze, his smile fading away, replaced with an intensity that both drew and repelled. He shot to his feet, his intentions to go to Fee quite clear, but the naked, blonde girl stopped him.

She grabbed his hand, using it to cover one of her breasts. Laying her hand over his, she squeezed.

Cash removed her hand and pointed to Fee, glaring at Stretch. “Get her out of here.”

“I’m trying to, Cash,” Stretch argued. “That’s why I’m bringing her to my room.”

“Stretch…” Cash began in warning tones.

“What do you want me to do? Leave her on her own?”

“Come on, Ghost,” the girl pouted. “I want to fuck you.”

As Fee wrestled her jealousy, Stretch dragged her down the hall, going in the opposite direction of Christopher’s office and the board room, both doors closed. Stretch rounded another corner, passing an additional hallway. At the end, he hooked a right a final time, approaching the last door on the left. There, he unlocked both the knob and a deadbolt, stepping aside so Fee could enter, then flipping on the light and slamming the door closed.

Gasping, she widened her eyes, taking in the bed and nightstand, and a cattycornered chest of drawers. But the bank of monitors on one wall and three picnic tables holding computers and other gadgets that Fee couldn’t identify captured her attention.

“What’s all this?”

Stretch dug in his cut for a cigarette. “Mission control.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

Limping to his nightstand, he got a lighter and lit his cigarette, then grinned at her. “It’s my mission control, Fee. This is where I track Meggie and the kids and where I watch over the club when I’m not on gate duty.” He pointed to the top row of monitors, offering an amateur porn show, thanks to the connected camera overlooking the pool tables. The girl who’d been spread out earlier now fucked two bikers. “I can see almost every angle of the common room if I choose.”

She rocked on her heels and sipped her beer, wondering if she should ask to turn on the monitor that covered Christopher’s usual table, the one where Cash sat at tonight.

“There’s a bank of monitors behind the bar,” she said, instead of making such an insane request. She wasn’t a glutton for punishment.

Stretch alternated between his cigarette and his beer, studying her. Setting his bottle on the nightstand, he picked up a remote. Two of the monitors flared to life, while the top one that overlooked the pool area, changed. Fee took in each of the three monitors and her mouth dropped open. Even before she saw Meggie heading towards CJ’s room, Fee recognized the wooden floors.

“That’s Christopher’s house!”

He nodded. “Every room, except the bedrooms, are monitored,” he explained. “Footage is recorded. In case someone ever gets in my room, they’d see the club if they turned on the monitors. Without special codes, they can’t see inside Outlaw’s house.”

“But…why?”

“You really have to ask me that?” he snorted, finishing his cigarette and throwing it on the ground to stomp it out. “Meggie, of course. After the last attack the night of Ryder’s birth, Outlaw takes no chances.”

“Wow.” She looked at the machine resembling an amplifier, where a pair of headphones rested on top. “What’s that?”

He made his way to her and fired up the computers, turning a few dials on the amplifier thing while he logged on. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he bumped her hip with his own. “Ready for this shit?”

She laughed. “Am I?”

He winked at her, melting Fee’s heart. “Who knows?”

A whirring noise filled the room. “Meggie’s car. Silent now because she’s home.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“Nope.”

“Christopher’s crazy,” Fee squealed.

“Same thing Meggie says.”

Her mouth dropped open. “She
knows
?”

“Well, yeah. About
this
.” He pressed a few more buttons and a map came up, with a very small circle on the screen. “The tracking device on her phone.” The screen switched and an address came up. “The one on her car.” Another screen showed the clubhouse. “The device in her wallet is the one she’s aware of. That one isn’t as accurate, however.”

“No fucking way! This…how is this even possible?”

He raised to his full height, his eyes twinkling. Grabbing her hand, he squeezed it. “The dark web,” he whispered, like it was some deep secret. “We can get anything we need there, with much more sophisticated technology.”

“I don’t know whether to be in awe or to be outraged. This limits where she goes.”

“Hell no! It’s because she goes everywhere that he has all this.”

“Doesn’t she have guards?”

Stupid question. When Fee lived on the premises, she’d had them, too, so it went without saying that Meggie had them.

“Yeah. He just wants her safe.”

“That’s…that’s sweet. In a very Christopher way. I wish I had a man who worried about my safety so much.”

Stretch drew her closer. “You’d be surprised at how safe you are.”

“Yeah, with Christopher as my big brother, right?”

He stroked her cheek. “Don’t underestimate him. Meggie is his primary concern not his only concern. He takes the role as head of the family seriously.”

After brushing his lips against hers, Stretch stepped away from her. “This is our secret,” he said, shutting down all his toys. “I’m not supposed to show this to anyone who’s not an officer in the club.”

She raised her fingers in front of her mouth and simulated turning a key on a lock. “My lips are sealed. You couldn’t drag it out of me.”