misunderstoodebook (43 page)

“Did you have fun with her?”

He didn’t even try to deny it. “We settled things between us.”

Not knowing what to say to his disarming honesty, Kendall laid back and turned to her side, stiffening when Johnnie stretched out behind her. He rubbed her back, his fingers twirling circles along her skin, burning straight to her core.

“I want us to try at a relationship, Kendall.”

“She gave you permission to do that?” she sneered, unable to stop herself.

“I deserve that, sweetheart. It wasn’t so much permission as it was absolution.”

“Go away.”

He settled a hand on her hip, thrust his erection against her buttocks and nuzzled her hair. “No. She was the first girl I really,
truly
loved. Can you understand that? I had to let her go. She had to allow me to let her go.”

“You made love to her?”

He leaned his cheek against hers. “No.”

“But you would’ve if she’d allowed it.”

He fell silent, thoughtful. Finally, he leaned back and pulled her into his arms. “Months ago, yes. Not now, Kendall. I wouldn’t betray you like that.”

Why should she believe him?
How
could she believe him? He didn’t love her, but she’d clung to him in her head through the awful weeks of Spoon’s imprisonment. She’d built him up in her head to be the man of her dreams well before he’d taken her and she’d spent time with him.

He kissed the top of her head and began to talk. At first, Kendall tuned out his words, lost in her misery, but then it slowly penetrated. His childhood. His teenage years. The first man he’d ever killed.

At the center of it all was Johnnie, caught between two people he revered—Christopher and Logan. But she heard what she’d suspected all along, something inside of him was broken. Shattered by the illusion of a man who couldn’t live up to Johnnie’s hero-worship, a man who didn’t
want
to live up to it. Torn apart by the knowledge of being that man’s favorite while his…
brother
…looked in from the outside, not having an invitation into the gilded cage.

When he fell silent, Kendall thought about what to say. But she was broken, too, lost in a haze of pain and horror. He’d propped himself up an elbow to open up to her. Now, he stared down at her, his beautiful eyes more vulnerable than she’d ever seen them.

He’d opened up to her. Let her in. Instead of words, she lifted herself up and planted a kiss on his mouth. He stiffened and pulled back, studying every inch of her, while she licked her lips, tasted the alcohol from his mouth. He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, his eyelids, and her chin.

And, finally, her mouth, melding their lips together, his fingers caressing her nipple, completely owning her. The kiss went from passionate to possessive and she moaned into his mouth, touching her tongue to his, his taste exploding through her. Their mouths fused together, he rolled onto her, careful to balance his weight in his arms. She opened her legs, cradling him between her thighs and thrusting against his erection.

“I’m not delicate. I won’t break,” she said in between kisses.

He paused and smiled at her, the Johnnie Effect almost blinding her. “Perception, sweetheart,” he said, inserting his hand in the waistband of the pajama bottoms she’d gotten out of his drawer and fingering her clit. He kissed her again, murmuring, “To me, you’re like a rare flower, Kendall. Delicate and gorgeous.”

She threw her head back to allow him access to her neck, gasping when he licked her tender skin. He rolled her nipple between his fingertips and she moaned, yanking at his silky hair. He tugged her pajama pants down then pulled them completely off.

Rubbing his nose against her, he melded his mouth against hers and sank into her in a simultaneous invasion, his in and out motion making her shiver and propelling her to matching hip thrusts.

“Come for me,” he ordered.

Kendall widened her legs, gripped his firm ass, and gyrated against him, falling apart when he pressed his fingers against her clit and massaging her sensitive nub. He growled her name, grunting in release, filling her with warmth.

An explosion rocked the clubhouse building, shattering the stillness of the night and the beauty of the moment.

Chapter 33

With only his jeans on and strapped with his nine in one pocket, .38 in the other, and Glock in his hand, Johnnie pushed through the crowd who’d gathered in the main room at the sound of the explosion, hurrying outside. Fire shot up through the trees, a red ball in a haze of black. Lowering his body, he rushed toward the pathway that led to Megs’s and Christopher’s house—the source of the blaze.

He wondered where Christopher—“

“Motherfucker,” a voice roared behind him.

A bullet whizzed by his head and Johnnie halted. “It’s me, Christopher. Stop shooting.”

Instead, Christopher lifted his nine and squeezed the trigger until he’d emptied the chamber. He wasn’t shooting
at
him, Johnnie realized as another series of shots came.

He dove next to Johnnie. “I’m going to stick a fuckin’ cannon up the ass of whoever fuckin’ responsible for blowin’ up my house,” he growled, snapping another clip into place.

“Fire department on the way, Outlaw,” Stretch confirmed, breathing heavy.

“Fuck me. The fuckin hydro—“

Stretch dropped to the ground, blood spraying from his shoulder.

“We have to split up, John Boy,” Christopher instructed. “Keep your fuckin’ ass down. We don’t know how many motherfuckers out there.”

Stretch moaned and grunted.

“You packin’, Stretch?”

“N-no,” he managed.

“Go, Johnnie,” Christopher said. “Stretch, you gotta get back to the clubhouse. Keep low. I’m gonna cover both of you, so fuckin’ do it quick.”

Not having time to argue, Johnnie sprinted away, trusting Christopher to have his back. True to his word, he engaged in gunfire until Johnnie reached the pathway and ran for the cover of trees, He smelled the wood and various textures of the furniture and décor of the house.

Metal and glass crackled and sparked, bursting through the night in a hideous cacophony. Whoever bombed the house wouldn’t be standing around in the fucking dark, waiting for a
hi, how the fuck are you
.”

Exhilarated by the adrenaline pumping through him, Johnnie sprinted forward, cutting through the trees instead of sticking to the pathway, the twigs, damp mud, and sticky leaves sticking to the soles of his feet, then flying away at his high velocity.

The house came into view, blazing in red and orange, stunning him for the merest second.

A second was all it took. The report of the gun sounded just before it crashed into his chest.

Twining her hands together, Kendall spotted Meggie, holding her son, and leaning against the counter of the bar. She looked exhausted. For the first time, Kendall placed herself in Meggie’s shoes. Yes, Outlaw protected her. He wouldn’t even allow her own mother to do anything to her. But Meggie had the strength to hold her own against all these big bad bikers. She took care of them all, listened to whoever wanted to talk to her, and still managed to smile.

It was easier to see now that she felt on firmer ground with Johnnie. She wished she could’ve seen it
before,
but she was human with frailties and weaknesses and insecurities.

Not sure of her reception, she stepped forward, nerves pounding through her. “H-hi,” she murmured, awkward and unsure. She’d never had girlfriends. She’d attempted it, once or twice, but always felt so awkward.

Meggie glanced up at her, then frowned. “Hey,” she muttered and went back to leaning against the counter.

Kendall reached for the baby, but Meggie made no move to allow her to hold him. But she wanted to take him into her arms and imagine her own baby. “May I?”

She stayed silent and Kendall thought she’d ignore her. Finally, she lifted him up and held him out to Kendall. He was sleeping and stirred at the exchange of arms, but didn’t waken. His black curls lay against his small face. She smiled and touched his head.

“We got off on the wrong start,” she began, loving his baby smell.

“You think?”

“I’m sorry.”

Meggie rubbed her temples and sighed, the sound of sirens roaring over the din of the conversation. “Just take care of Johnnie. He cares about you and he deserves to be happy.”

“Can we be—“ Her words fell away. Friendships took time to cultivate. Friendships weren’t made because some woman
asked
to be friends.

“I’m tired, Kendall,” Meggie said quietly. “My husband is out there.” She pointed to the door. “I have a very bad feeling my house has been blown to bits and pieces.” She closed her eyes, her exhaustion growing. “The club that Christopher loves, Johnnie,
all
of them, is on the verge of collapsing because of a man who came back to life. Because my father—“ She blinked back tears. “
My father
cared more about Logan’s business of selling girls than he did about justice. We can be friends. We can be anything you want. First, we have to save
them
. My Christopher and your Johnnie.”

Flames licked out at Johnnie, the fire marching closer to him. He groaned, his chest burning like hellfire, but, somehow, he managed to sit up, swaying from the blood loss. He had to get away. Get to his feet, but the haziness and smoke threatened to consume him.

He drew in a breath, tasted his own blood, numbness setting into his extremities. Sirens pounded through his head, drawing closer and closer. He prayed they found him before he burned to death or bled to death.

“Fuck me.”

Christopher.

Johnnie grimaced, not sure if he imagined the man’s voice.

Grunting, Christopher got him to his feet. “Put your fuckin’ arms around me and pray like fuck no motherfuckers left to shoot our asses the fuck off. If that happens, I swear I’ll haunt the fuck out you in hell where we’ll be livin’.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The moment Johnnie opened his eyes, he heard that sound. He groaned at his dry mouth and burning eyes.

“I should fuckin’ kill you myself, motherfucker, for scarin’ me,” Christopher growled.

Somewhere, behind Christopher, Kendall screeched and Megs squealed.

“Shut the fuck up, you two.”

“I’m getting Val and Mortician,” Meggie said in a teary voice.

“Nope. You get the nurse. I’ll get those two motherfuckers, so Kendall can cry over
this
motherfucker.”

The moment, Christopher and Megs left, Kendall leaned over and hugged him. “Oh my God, don’t ever do this again. I thought I’d lost you. What would me and Baby Biker have done without you, Johnnie? Don’t ever, ever do this again.”

“I’ll try to oblige you, gorgeous,” he grumbled, thirsty as hell.

She grabbed his hand and kissed his entire face. “I love you,” she whispered.

He looked at her lovely face, searching for the words to respond to her. He wasn’t in love with her yet. They’d known each other all of a week and there was just no way he could fall in love with
anyone
in that time.

“Kendall—“

She put a hand over his lips. “Don’t, Johnnie. I know we need to spend time getting to know one another. Don’t say the words until you mean it.”