Misjudged (Death Dwellers #3.5) (9 page)

“I don’t know where Little Man at,” Mortician admitted. “He wasn’t with her.”

Johnnie’s phone rang again and he answered. A funny fucking frown crossed his face. He sighed and held the phone out to Christopher. “Kendall wants to talk to you.”

What the fuck that bitch wanted with
him
? “Put her the fuck on speakerphone.”

Complying, Johnnie said, “All right, gorgeous. He’s nearby.”

“I’m on speakerphone?”

Her voice blared through the room, scraping on Christopher’s fucking ass.

“Yes, sweetheart, so—“

“It fucking figures,” she yelled. “Too chicken shit to hear me out like a real man, you perverted piece of shit.”

Johnnie scowled at the phone and started to turn the speakerphone off, but Christopher grabbed it before he could. Her screaming this bullshit was all the fucking reason—evidence—he needed to blow her the fuck away.

His hand shook as he held Johnnie’s phone and listened to her condemning him. Worst fucking part was he didn’t fucking know why.

“You can’t ever keep your dick in your pants. You did this on purpose because you have to make sure everyone always fucking bows down to
Meggie
,” she ranted. “Meggie’s pregnant all over again because of you and she’s fucking scared to tell you because we all fucking know you’re about as mature as your son. She couldn’t even fucking call you to come get her because she was too weak to drive. She had to call Mortician. Well, if anything happens to her, because of you, I’m taking Johnnie’s gun and shooting you…”

Christopher smashed the phone to the ground, then fucking stomped it for good measure. “Mortician,” he started in a lethal voice, staring at Johnnie, who’d gone pale. “You fuckin’ ridin’ to your woman so I can get
my
fuckin’ woman, then you fuckin’ meetin’ me in my fuckin’ office, the fuckin’ moment I get back with Megan. Johnnie, just so you fuckin’ know, I’m gonna let you marry Kendall fuckin’ ass, then I’m fuckin’ her up, cuz, you know, we all should be fuckin’ married once. So, I suggest, motherfucker, start plannin’ her funeral right the fuck along with your fuckin’ weddin’ cuz that bitch is dead.”

Chapter Six: Outlaw’s Wife

“I’m sorry, Meggie,” Bailey said with a sigh, ending the call with Kendall. “She’s furious.”

As if she hadn’t heard Kendall ranting and raving in
her
ear, Meggie thought sourly, her head pounding. No matter what she or Bailey said to Kendall, they couldn’t calm her down when she’d learned of Meggie’s pregnancy.

“Now, everyone’s going to be focused on
you
,” she’d snarled, torn between rage and despair. “They’re going to forget me, Bailey, and Zoann are pregnant, too.”

Kendall made Meggie want to scream in pure frustration. Then, she’d calm herself and realize
one
of them had to be reasonable. When they’d both gone off the deep end, it had led to their tragedies. Besides, Meggie liked Kendall.
Most
of the time. She had crappy delivery, but, then, they
all
did. But she needed Kendall to stand down for a little while, so Meggie could get through to Christopher. Make him realize Kendall did no more or no less than the rest of them. Instead, Christopher would just as soon kill Kendall.

At least, she was hundreds of miles away in Hawaii, so she wouldn’t confront Christopher and get herself and Johnnie, um, disappeared.

Bailey plopped next to her and took her hand, squeezing it. “Kendall was just worried about you.”

“I know. I’m not angry with her. I just wish she’d back down.”

“I shouldn’t have told her. She sounded so panicked, though. She said she couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.”

“It’s fine, I swear,” Meggie said. “She’s safe from Christopher.”

“You are, too,” Bailey giggled. “If she was here, all hell would break loose because she’d confront Outlaw.”

Meggie laughed and nodded in agreement, although the situation was far from funny. “I shouldn’t have gotten Mortician involved,” she said quietly.

“He understands. Better you call him then get in your car and black out and crash.”

Bailey hugged her, but she didn’t look well at all. She seemed not only pregnant but puffy, although Meggie wouldn’t point that out because gaining all the pregnancy weight was bad enough.

“You can spend the night here if you’d like.”

Meggie shook her head. “No, I can’t do that.” The nights Christopher stayed out and didn’t return before she fell asleep were hard enough. “Zoann should be here soon. Mortician just suggested I come here until I felt better, so when I see Christopher, I won’t look weak and sick.”

“Are you going to tell him about the baby?”

Pulling her hand away, Meggie shrugged, the deeper meaning behind that question more troubling than anything. Would she tell him and keep it? Would she tell him and then abort it? Or would she abort it and never tell him?

She already had two secrets—that the deputy had performed a bare-fingered strip-search on her and that Val had been so drugged he hadn’t realized he was attempting to force her to have sex with him. Sometimes, protecting her husband meant also protecting his brothers. Besides, she liked Val. More than that, though, her relationship with Christopher was built on trust. Once they started withholding information from one another, their marriage would be over.

“I’m going to tell him,” she decided, her insides trembling at his reaction. She already knew he’d demand she get rid of it and that was tearing her to pieces inside. But, then the doctor had recommended termination, too.

“Meggie, I’m sick,” Bailey said quietly. “I’ve started retaining fluid and…and Dr. Will is recommending a high risk obstetrician. It’s bad. Really, really bad.”

Meggie’s heart dropped at the fear in Bailey’s voice and she hugged her friend, not having to ask if Mortician knew. Mortician might’ve been determined to win that stupid bet, but, if he knew Bailey was sick he’d be here with her.

“I’m scared.”

Tears rushed to Meggie’s eyes. She was, too. “We’re going to get through this together.”

“Should I tell Lucas?”

Meggie tucked strands of Bailey’s hair behind her ear. “You already know the answer to that.”

Nodding, she pulled in a breath. “I’ve been getting these strange calls from California—“

Pounding on the door interrupted Bailey. Before she rose to her feet, the door slammed open and four men rushed in, dressed in suits—with guns drawn.

“Who are—?” Bailey squeaked, but snapped her mouth shut when Digger strolled in.

“Digger?” Meggie gasped, jumping to her feet at the sight of her husband’s sergeant-at-arms—and Mortician’s blood brother—pointing a gun at Bailey’s head.

“
Fuck!”
His eyes bugging out, he lowered his gun. His dreads were loose, framing a face that resembled Mortician’s so much, they could be twins. Since she’d met him nearly two years ago, he’d cut his locks to shoulder length. “What the fuck you doing here, girl?”

A woman with dark hair and dark eyes walked in and focused on Bailey before glimpsing Meggie. Hatred brimmed in her eyes. “Well, look who we have here.”

“Peyton, this shit not funny,” Digger warned. “We not here for Meggie. We was sent for Bailey.”

Peyton bristled.

One of the men waved his gun between Meggie and Bailey before aiming it at Bailey. “It was only supposed to be her.”

“Ice them?”

A third man stared at Meggie, sizing her up again. He closed his eyes. “You Outlaw’s wife?” he asked in resigned tones.

“Yeah, fool,” Digger snapped. He threw an apologetic look to Meggie, almost as if he were trying to communicate a silent message to her. His features hardened and he shoved the gun against Meggie’s temple, his hand around her throat, then nodded to Bailey. “Take her.” He signaled one of the other men over to Meggie, and allowed him to switch positions. “I’m so sorry, Meggie girl,” he whispered, kissing her forehead as Peyton slammed the gun against Bailey’s head and she crumpled.

“Plane’s ready for takeoff.” Remorse flashed in Digger’s eyes. “Don’t take too long here,” he ordered, then walked out with Bailey thrown over his shoulder, leaving Meggie with four, unknown, armed men.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Meggie said, failing horribly at keeping her voice from trembling.

“Not interested in your fucking deals. We trying to figure out what to do with you.”

“You leave right now and I won’t ever tell Christopher about this, so he won’t hunt you down and make you die in horrible ways.”

“If we kill you, he won’t know who we are
to
hunt us down.”

“Surveillance cameras,” Meggie countered, her brain working overtime to buy time. Not that it would do any good. Except…the first man winced, paling a little.

“Ice her and toss her body out the window. Least Outlaw would find her. That might work in our favor.”

“You fucking ill or something, partner? Not gonna make a fucking difference. Outlaw loves this bitch. Finding her would only piss him the fuck off more. We just need to bring her body with us and take it apart in the plane and get back to Cali on time, so Sharper don’t bury
us.
”

“I’m pregnant,” Meggie blurted, keeping her face neutral and pretending she hadn’t heard the man mention Mortician’s father. “Don’t hurt me. You’ll hurt my baby, too.”

“Look what you done, fool,” the third man snapped, not responding to her plea. “You went and fucking mentioned Sharper. Now, we
got
to fucking kill her.”

The man shrugged. “Thought we would the moment we saw her. She a witness—“

“She a special witness, motherfucker!” Suit One hollered. “Outlaw’s
wife
.”

“So? Outlaw not Sharper. Outlaw didn’t send those fucking letters to Logan and pretend he was Joe Foy like Sharper did. Outlaw not still procuring the girls to send to clients all over the world like Sharper still is.”

The more Suit Two spoke, the blacker Suit One’s mood became, and the more Meggie cringed inside. He was saying all those things on purpose. Even if the others had considered releasing her, it would never happen now.

“Fuck,” the man holding the gun to her head growled. He blew out a noisy breath. “Might as well meet your Maker knowing the rest.”

“The rest of what?” Meggie said, desperate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t heard anything.”

Suit One shook his head. “We not gonna let you suffer. Okay? Just a quick shot to the head and your brain’ll be gone. That’s it.”

“No. Please,” Meggie said, sobbing. “Please.” She couldn’t get away like she had from Spoon because this man’s gun was pressed too close to her head. Besides, there were four of them. “Don’t kill me. I’ll do anything.”

She cringed at the interest in the third man’s eyes.

“This Outlaw’s fucking wife, asshole. You make her suck your dick and let her go, you as good as fucking dead."

“Look,” the man with the gun said. “Big Joe knew about Logan and the girls Logan and Sharper stole and sold, and he fucking hated it. He moved the MC away from that shit, but these girls are runaways, strippers, whores. They sin too much and Sharper and Logan thought the world a better place without them. Your daddy didn’t feel that way. I’m telling you this so you can rest in peace. One day, he was visiting Sharper with K-P because of fucking Charlemagne and we roofied him. He woke up in his bed, not knowing what the fuck happened to himself, but we’d shot him up. Feel me? Logan got Big Joe hooked on the drugs and started sending him those girls to fuck. Big Joe was a motherfucker, but he didn’t fuck around like that before Logan ordered us to get him hooked. But we had to get Logan back. K-P had fucking letters and he was threatening to bring the whole thing down. Logan just wanted Big Joe fucking hooked to keep him in line. He never thought Big Joe would get killed. Logan took K-P out, but Sharper thinks Bailey knows where the letters are and he’s going to torture her until he get it from her.”

All the information that was being thrown at her so fast, it was almost too much to process and comprehend. Big Joe. Logan. K-P. Sharper. They all blended together in her head, one story tripping over the other. She wanted to know how Digger fit into this and who was Peyton. Peyton hated her. Meggie had seen the flash in her eyes. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but saving her life, unhearing all that she’d heard in the last five or ten minutes. Somehow, convincing them to let her live.

She heard the sound of a zipper being unfastened a moment before she was manhandled to her knees and a man’s penis shoved into her mouth. Holding her head in place and sliding his hardness against her tongue, he grunted. “Bitch gonna die anyway,” he got out. “Might as well let her suck my dick.”

“What about Outlaw?”

“Yeah, what the fuck about Outlaw, motherfuckers?”

A strictly rhetorical question coming
from
Christopher a moment before he opened fire.

Megan covered her face and bent over, only her screams and sobs bringing Christopher out of his blind rage as four, dead asses littered Bailey’s living room floor within seconds. He heard his wife’s tears and stalked to the one who’d been holding her head while he pumped his dick into her mouth.  Clicking a new clip into place, he stood over the man and aimed his nine at his cock and balls, still not satisfied when he blasted the shit away.

The place smelled of death and body fluids. Blood, bone, and gray matter was splattered everywhere. He liked his fucking head shots, but decided to blow away all their dicks just for being associated with the one who’d hurt Megan.

Johnnie peeked in and Christopher nodded, signaling him to get on the fucking phone and get motherfuckers there to clean this shit up.

Christopher kicked the last motherfucker, unidentifiable because his features disappeared with one shot. Finally, he went to Megan. His Megan. He bent and lifted her into his arms, nosing her hair, his heart beating hard and fast at the way she clung to him. No, she was trying to climb the fuck up his body, so he swept her off her feet and kissed her forehead, her hair, her eyelids.

“Where’s Bailey?”

Mortician’s voice reached through Christopher’s fog. He shook his head, trying to remember if he’d hidden all the knives in their room. The first thing Megan would do to make herself feel better was to cut her beautiful skin. She was already marked up from her years of managing her step fuckhead’s molestation. She hadn’t done it when she’d lost Patrick, but Christopher knew her main trigger was violence against her person. With Patrick, she’d been lost in grief.