misunderstoodebook (7 page)

“I don’t think Bailey watch pornos, Mort,” Val supplied, scratching his chin.

K-P puffed up his chest. “My girl’s favorite movie is
The Princess and the Frog
.”

Silence fell at that announcement, spoken with such certainty. How the fuck could they respond to such cluelessness?

“You one dumb motherfucker, you know that, Kitchen Bitch?” Mortician snapped.

K-P growled, but Mortician held up his hands.

“No offense, brother,” he offered, “but you living in a fucking dream world. I admit I made a mistake calling her. If I hung out with her, I probably would’ve ended up in bed with her.”

“That’s never going to happen,” K-P said. “You lucky she called me to
tell
me you were coming to hang out with her and I had nothing to say about it.”

Johnnie’s internal wince matched Mortician’s visible one.

“I ever find out you fucked her and you either walk around dickless or married. And I’m betting I’d go for dickless because you like too many different pussies to marry my little girl. That’d break her heart.”

Though Mortician’s control had returned, Johnnie knew they might have a serious problem facing them. If the brother had called Bailey because he’d lost his fucking mind for a moment…No, they had other things to consider now and would handle that when, and if, the time came.

   
Johnnie cleared his throat. “If you fucks are finished with the saga of the Biker and the Beauty, we have a situation.”

“Yeah, John Boy, I’m finished.” Mortician licked the cigarette paper to seal the grass in. “Don’t want no dickmatized, devirginized bitch on my hands. I’m not fucking her on that principle alone.”

K-P frowned, his brows drawn together as he considered Mortician’s words. The only warning Mortician was fucked was the brief look of fury in K-P’s features before he landed a punch to Mortician’s jaw and the two of them went down in a tumble of fists and kicks.

Johnnie rushed around the bar and grabbed Mortician while Digger dragged K-P away.

“You one stupid motherfucker,” Val called, “talking to K-P like that about Bailey. Any other bitch but a man mama and daughter.”

Mortician rubbed his arm across his bleeding mouth, his muscles straining against Johnnie’s hold.

“I’ll fucking knock you out myself, fuckhead,” he growled against Mortician’s ear, “if you say another goddamn thing.”

“Dad! Lucas!” a voice screeched and Johnnie groaned, his hold slackening for a moment.

Digger shifted his weight and folded his arms. “You talked to the bitch a couple times, huh, bro?”

“Fuck off,” Mortician growled.

Val shook his head and grunted, pain tightening his lips, his features pale. “Bitch know your name. Don’t sound like it’s so innocent,”

“Bailey, what the fuck you doing here?” Mortician said when she stepped between the crowd of men.

“You don’t get to question my little girl, assfuck.” K-P frowned at Bailey. “What are you doing here? I told you you wasn’t welcome here no more.”

Bailey lowered her lashes, hiding her gorgeous eyes. “After you said all those things that you’d do to Lucas—“

“His name isn’t Lucas, baby—“

“Yes, it is,” she insisted, scowling at her father and daring him to refute that she knew Mortician as well as she did. Her creamy skin flushed, contrasting beautifully with her shiny black hair. “Anyway, I couldn’t let you do all that to him and—“

“Back the fuck up, Bailey,” Mortician inserted, attempting to get out of Johnnie’s hold.

“Not on your fucking life,” Johnnie swore.

“I hate your fucking ass right now,” Mortician said under his breath.

“Don’t give a fuck. Besides, you’ll thank me tomorrow when you wake up and still have your dick attached to your body. So say what the fuck you have to say to her.”

Mortician heaved in a breath. “Bailey, girl, what the fuck make you think I’m going to let your old man bitchify me?
He
might’ve been the one who
I
fucked up.”

“I don’t want either one of you fucking up the other one,” she cried, her gaze pleading.

“Cha-ching,” Digger chortled. He bumped fists with Val.

“Fuck off,” Mortician snarled. “What the fuck that mean anyway?”

“Cha-ching?” Digger sauntered to them and wagged his finger. “It mean I’m about to be 5Gs richer. It mean I wish Outlaw was here to laugh in your fucking face. It mean I get to say it for him—cha-fucking-ching.” He pumped his arm with each syllable.

“I didn’t take her fucking pussy, so your bitch ass didn’t win shit.”

“Say again?” K-P called.

“Wh-what are you talking about, Lucas?” Bailey asked, her features absolutely mortified.

“It mean I’m not fucking you. I’m not fucking calling you. And I’m not fucking visiting you. It mean lose my fucking number, Bailey. That’s what the fuck it mean.” He pulled against Johnnie. “Let me go, John Boy. I need out of this motherfucker for a little while.” He turned in Bailey’s direction. “I need some bitch to fuck.”

Bailey swallowed and raised her chin, the hurt in her eyes taking away the full effect of her glower.

“That’s fucking low, Mort,” Johnnie bit out, low, releasing the man.

Mortician faced him and shrugged, but his eyes gleamed with all sorts of emotion. He clapped Johnnie on the shoulder. “It’s the only thing I could think of to push her the fuck away. John Boy,” he said quietly, then walked around him and headed for the door without once looking back.

It was only then that Johnnie realized the gorgeous redhead was gone.

Chapter 4

The dull gray motel room door blended into the darkness, the cool air rushing against Kendall’s heated face. One of the two men Spoon ordered to guard her grunted a profanity and shoved her aside to unlock the door.

She couldn’t remember their names, even though they’d been right with her for almost five weeks. Spoon hadn’t even allowed her to go to Marie’s funeral. He’d made Guard and Goon—
her
names for them—stay with her. She’d gone from not having to make any decisions to driving her car again, getting her cellphone and credit cards back, and shopping.

“You have to appear like you have a fucking working brain to get in with the Dwellers,” he’d growled to her.

As Goon swung the motel room door open and pushed her inside, Kendall gasped.
Caroline.
Her little sister lay on the bed, bound and naked. She started forward but one of her babysitters wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Let me go!” she demanded, struggling against his hold. She wanted to get to Caroline and wrap her arms around her. Promise her she’d make everything okay.

“Kendall.”

Her movements stopped abruptly and she stilled at the sound of her name. Not from Spoon, Goon, or Guard. No. From
him.
Logan. The enormity of her predicament came rushing back and she prayed she’d discarded the pregnancy tests she’d purchased at the drugstore. It hadn’t even occurred to her she hadn’t gotten her cycle until she’d been on the aisle for feminine products. And, then, it had hit her all at once. For a moment, the prospect of a baby excited her, soothed away all the pain and agony. Then, the horror of what faced her took her newfound joy and anticipation. Within seventy-two hours of her baby biker’s conception, she’d been drugged and remained drugged until forty-eight hours ago. Not only that, Spoon wouldn’t allow her to keep it, so—

A hand shot out and grabbed her, yanking her back to the present and wrenching a cry from her.

“What the fuck you doing back here?” Spoon snarled, holding her by the lapels of her jacket.

Because she’d managed to slip away without any of them at the Death
Dwellers’ clubhouse noticing.
While they’d been absorbed in their argument over Mortician, K-P, and the older biker’s daughter, Bailey, she’d made her escape, not having a doubt in her mind that he wouldn’t have dragged her to his bedroom, stripped her, and had sex with her. The sex in her head that she recalled them having would be different in real life. He’d do all kinds of horrible things to her. Choke her and hurt her.

She attempted to glimpse Caroline again, but only saw Spoon’s mean face. “I did as you told me,” she responded. “Applied to be their attorney.”

No response. He stared at her in the unnerving way that made her recall that day in her office.

Logan grabbed her hair and turned her face to his. His soulless eyes chilled her more than Spoon’s ferocity. He had wispy white hair and weathered features. “Are you sure we can trust her?”

Spoon nodded. “As long as we got Caroline, Kendall wouldn’t even think about running.”

Logan contemplated her a moment longer before releasing her.

“Wh-why are you all here?” Before she thought, the question popped out of her mouth.

Despite his claim that she was freakishly tall and hideously overweight, he lifted her up and slammed her onto the bed, right next to Caroline. Spoon raised a hand and Kendall threw her arms in front of her, praying she shielded both herself and her sister.

The blow never came.

“Don’t,” Logan called. It came out pleasant but Kendall knew an order when she heard one. “She has to go back there and I don’t want questions.”

“Kendall?” Caroline whispered.

Kendall rolled to her side and reached out to touch Caroline for the first time in almost six weeks. She’d lost so much weight. Her green eyes were red-rimmed, almost too big for her elfin-shaped face. She smelled of alcohol and sex—and flowers. Kendall sniffed again, wondering if she’d lost her mind. The floral scent emanated from her hair. Caroline had always had a beautiful head of red hair and they must’ve taken care of it. It wasn’t tangled or snarled. It looked cared for and had a wonderful odor.

“Kendall,” she repeated again on a sob. “I want to go home.”

Tears rushed to Kendall’s eyes and she drew closer to Caroline. “I know. I’m going to get you back. I’m trying—“

“Mom’s dead.”

Nodding, Kendall sniffled. She hadn’t realized Caroline knew. Lately, she hadn’t comprehended much. “Yes,” she confirmed and her voice broke. “I’m s-sorry.”

Caroline started to cry in earnest and Kendall felt as if her heart were being ripped out of her chest. She’d try to offer herself again. Anything to get Caroline safe.

“I love you,” Caroline said on a sigh, tears slipping down her pale cheeks. “Always remember that, Kenny. No matter what happens. I love you.”

Kendall grabbed Caroline’s cold hands and pressed them between her own. “I love you, too,” she returned as fiercely.

“I can’t…I-I think I’m having a baby. I don’t even know whose baby. I-I can’t do this. I’m
not
going to do this. I…we can’t get away from them. Only through death—“

“Don’t say that—“

“Time’s up,” Spoon announced, scooping Caroline into his arms. “You weren’t supposed to be here tonight. We’ve made other arrangements for Logan, so we have to get a move on.”

Kendall scrambled from the bed, running to block Spoon’s exit. “No, you can’t take her,” she cried. She tugged on Caroline’s arm, wanting to pull her inside of herself and protect her from everything.

Turning away, Spoon handed Caroline to Guard. Until then, she’d been complacent, not acknowledging Kendall until she’d laid next to her. But, now, Caroline began reaching for Kendall, screaming for her.

“Kenny, no! Please! Help me. Don’t let them take me back.”

Kendall charged toward the man walking away with her little sister, intending to flatten him. Caroline was bound and naked but all they needed to do was get to the door. Get it open. Get her
outside.
She’d stay. They could kill her for all she cared.

Spoon looped an arm around her waist and, in spite of Kendall’s curses and struggles, held her in his vise-like grip until Caroline had been carried out. She was screaming. They
both
were screaming. That was good. Someone would hear them.

“Get your cunt in order,” Logan ordered. “And don’t take long.”

Spoon spun her around. “Kendall—“

“Spoon, please, take me. I’ll do whatever you want. I swear. Just let Caroline go.”

“If you fuck this up, you’ll have the pleasure of watching Caroline get her throat slit. Would you like that?”

“No, no, no, no.”

He dragged her toward the dresser and yanked it open, throwing her meager belongings on the floor. At the bottom was Percodan and Stoli. “Take your pills.”

“No.” She had to protect her baby and she had to reclaim her sister. “No, never again.”

Grabbing her by the neck, Spoon jerked her closer to the drawer. “Either you take them or I’ll
give
them to you.”

She twisted her body, attempting to break free of his hold, needing to get to her sister. She freed herself and ran toward the door. Just as she placed her hand on the door knob, Spoon dragged her backwards and threw her onto the bed, climbing on top of her.

One of her guards grabbed her hands and held them over her head, allowing Spoon the freedom to open the vodka and the pill bottle. He poured some of the alcohol onto her face and she gasped, turning her head away.

Taking her chin in his hand, he spun her face toward him again, squeezing her jaws. “Open your fucking mouth, bitch.” His fingers tightened, forcing her lips open, but not her teeth. He shoved two pills on the inside of her cheek before placing the bottle to her mouth and pouring again.

Liquid dribbled down her chin but some managed to remain in her mouth and slip past her clenched teeth. She drew in a deep breath, choked, swallowed a little more alcohol.

“You didn’t learn your fucking lesson, did you, Kendall?” Spoon licked the side of her face. “You want another dick choke?”

“No,” she whimpered.

He chuckled. “You sure the fuck act like it.”

She shook her head. “I-I just want you to let Caroline—“

“Not fucking happening, you stupid fucking cunt. You’ve fucked up too many times. Logan is taking her.”

“You hadn’t even given me a chance tonight,” she cried, the sleeping pills beginning to taste horrible in her mouth.

“Didn’t have to. Because you’re not good for anything but fucking up.” He scooted back and, using one hand, pulled her to a sitting position. He pressed the bottle against her head. “Drink, you good-for-nothing slut. How does it feel being less than a woman?”