Johnnie followed behind Christopher. Now that the cake had been cut people were branching off into groups to play pool, shoot darts, and just drink. A lot of kids—make that babies—were present, so Christopher had gone to the boardroom so they could finalize plans while him and Johnnie were overseas. Megan announced she was going to their house, a five minute walk from the clubhouse through the stand of trees. After she left, Johnnie, Val, Mortician, and Digger followed behind their Prez. Stretch was outside on guard duty and K-P was seeing to Dinah, Megan’s mother.
How many minutes had passed before Stretch came running in, screaming Megan was being attacked by some woman? Now, Johnnie was seeing the results of that attack, hearing the absolute fury and horror in his cousin’s voice.
She shuddered and moved her mouth. “H-hurts!”
Christopher swallowed and turned his burning gaze to Johnnie, who was already dialing ‘911’.
She closed her eyes, pale.
“Open your fuckin’ eyes, Megan,” Christopher yelled. “You hear me? Stay with me.”
Her chest rose and fell, blood spreading on her pants.
“We’re gonna get you to a hospital,” Christopher went on. He kissed her forehead. “You gotta keep your eyes open, Megan.” His words croaked out and Johnnie swore tears hoarsened his cousin’s voice.
Not surprising since he felt like crying himself. He knew whatever had happened between him and Megan was history, but he’d always have a special place in his heart for her that no one could ever reach. Watching her bloom in pregnancy aroused and fascinated him, and he’d jerked off more than a few times over the past months with visions of her and memories of how she’d felt in his arms. Sometimes, the Bobs, Club Ass, and random whores didn’t interest him. He just wanted to be alone with thoughts of Megs, imagining she carried his son—
Johnnie frowned. “Where’s Little Man?”
Christopher paused in whatever he’d been about to tell Megan and raised his head. It seemed to just dawn on him his son wasn’t around. But, as much as his cousin loved his son, nothing and no one came before Megan.
Megan moaned and gripped Christopher’s arms, twisting and attempting to sit up.
“Shhh,” Christopher soothed. “Nothin’ gonna happen to you or our boy, Megan. I swear. But you gotta keep the fuck still. You bleedin’ like a motherfucker. Ain’t no fuckin’ way you goin’ nowhere but the hospital.” He nodded to Johnnie. “John Boy—“
A baby’s scream reached him and Johnnie turned. Stretch jogged toward him, clutching Little Man to his chest. He walked to him since Christopher’s arms were full and handed him Little Man.
“We got her, John Boy,” Stretch panted. “The bitch who was trying to take him.”
Johnnie took the little boy and rubbed his back, not pointing out Little Man had been injured, too. He talked in low tones to Christopher Joseph Foy Caldwell, named for his father and grandfather, and took in his sweet baby smell. Johnnie wished he saw something for Megan in the child, but he looked as if Christopher’s seed had been manufactured in the lab in order to clone himself.
Johnnie wondered if Megs’s had had a son for him, if he would’ve looked like him or if the child would have something for Megan.
Christopher got to his feet, clutching his wife, who clung to his lapels. Pain etched her brow.
Johnnie tensed when he saw her trembling and twitching in his cousin’s arms, the last of her color draining from her face.
“I gotta get Megan some care.” Christopher swept Stretch with a cold look. “Get the fuck back in the club and don’t go a fuckin’ step ‘til I get my hands on you. It was your responsibility to make sure everything was safe. Not only wasn’t it safe, my boy was almost took, and the baby in her belly seem to be comin’ out.” He focused on Johnnie. “Get rid of the rest of the fucks inside.” Johnnie hadn’t realized the others had gotten there until Christopher spoke to them. You, Digger, get CJ inside and don’t let my son outta your fuckin’ site. Mortician, go take care of the bitch.”
He started down the pathway as a tall, disheveled woman with the most luxuriant head of red hair Johnnie had ever seen was hustled into the circle created by everyone—the same tall, curvy redhead who’d been inside at his party. The same bitch he’d fucked into oblivion a year ago. Red splotches marred her creamy skin and tears filled her big, brown eyes. He glanced in Christopher’s direction, but he didn’t see a shred of recognition on his cousin’s face. Worry for Megs consumed the man and no other woman mattered. This woman had attempted to seduce Christopher months ago.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” the redhead chanted.
“You a fuckin’ lyin’ bitch,” Christopher snarled, his cold green eyes promising retribution. “You ain’t sorry about hurtin’ my girl or tryin’ to take my boy. You fuckin’ sorry you was caught. Take the fuck care of her.” He nodded to Mortician, giving him the go ahead to do what he did best—cause pain and then death—then walked away with Megan cradled in his arms.
In silence, Digger took Little Man. “Stretch, get the fuck back to the club,” he growled. He looked shaken. As shaken as the rest of them. They all adored Megs.
Mortician took a step toward the tall beauty. He narrowed his eyes at her and his eyes widened. “Fuck, wasn’t you the bitch who was pussy grinding Outlaw at the bachelor party?”
“Please!” she cried, holding out her hands in supplication. “Please, don’t hurt me. Please. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…It wasn’t me who did this…I thought you all didn’t hurt women!”
“Shut up!” Johnnie snapped. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked a woman who’d hurt any pregnant woman. Not to mention his Megs. To Johnnie that was unpardonable and unforgivable. “Lying bitch. You were caught with CJ. If it wasn’t you who attacked Megs and stole her son, who the fuck was it?”
“My sister,” she sobbed.
Johnnie balled his hands to keep from choking her, hating her a little more because he noticed her distress and remembered her softness when her body had been wrapped around his.
“I swear,” she continued, near hysteria. “It wasn’t me. It was my twin.”
Of all the fucking bullshit. A twin? And he’d pledged a vow of celibacy. “My fucking ass. No one saw anyone but you,” he snarled.
”Please,” she begged, reaching for him. “I’m…I know it doesn’t sound plausible. But it’s true! I swear. God, I’m not insane. I’d never attack her on club property.”
Johnnie narrowed his eyes and caught her shoulders, shaking her. “What the fuck does that mean? You’d attack her somewhere else?”
“No!” she screeched. “Kayla—“
“Shut the fuck up,” he ordered, turning to face Mortician. “Take her to the shed. Get her ready for transport. Live body transport.” He’d interrogate her himself. Yes, the other brothers loved Megan but they didn’t come close to feeling about her the way Johnnie felt about her. He would do this bitch himself.
Mortician reached for her, but she dodged him, balling her fist and swinging, catching the man’s jaw. He growled, grabbing her hands when she swung again, cursing when she kneed him in the balls. He jerked her arm and twisted it behind her, imprisoning her against his chest by wrapping one arm around her chest and the other around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides. “You fucking through, cunt?” he puffed.
In response, she let out an ear-splitting scream.
“Shut up!” Johnnie gritted, wishing he had a handkerchief to stuff in her mouth. “What the fuck good do you think screaming will do? You’re on hostile territory.”
“Yeah, and whether you live or die rest with the two of us,” Mortician added, shaking her.
“So far, it’s not looking too good from my vantage point,” Johnnie said dryly.
Tears slipped down her cheeks and her chin wobbled. “I can prove it. Please. My name is Kendall. My sister is Kayla. We’re twins. I swear.”
“Then where the fuck is she?” Johnnie snapped, ignoring the little voice of reason that told him her story was plausible.
Plausible? Plausible his dick. After what happened to Megan, he didn’t give a fuck if ten of her ran around. She was still on the grounds, which made her an accomplice, if she really had a twin.
“What the fuck were you doing here?” he asked. “If your twin is the bitch we need.”
“I was here to stop her. I knew this was a bad idea.”
“Right. Because attacking Megs on club property wouldn’t work.”
She sagged against Mortician, her gaze pleading, willing Johnnie to believe her. Tears clung to her thick lashes adding a vulnerability he hated. He couldn’t bear to look at her. She was nothing but a whore and a would-be killer. Last February, she’d been intending to fuck Christopher, but hadn’t had one problem with fucking him instead.
He eyed her with distaste and pulled out a smoke. He needed something to calm himself.
“You doing this bitch?” Mortician asked, his hold easing up a fraction now that she seemed exhausted. “Outlaw want her grounded. I can understand you wanting to personally do it. But I’m not preparing a live transport if she won’t end up as a dead body.”
Johnnie puffed on his cigarette. The only time any of them had ever harmed a woman was when Outlaw had had to get rid of a threat to Megan. Now, Johnnie wasn’t sure if Outlaw hadn’t blown this bitch away himself because he hadn’t wanted to do it in front of Megan or he’d just been too consumed with fear and worry for her.
Fuck. What was he thinking? Outlaw’s arms had been filled with Megs. He wouldn’t have put her down even for the satisfaction of blowing this bitch away.
He nodded. “I’m going to take care of her, Mortician,” he promised. Besides, if he were to let her live, he’d risk his own life as well as Mortician’s. Christopher had given orders and Johnnie understood why. He wanted blood, too.
Kendall’s color dropped from her face and she began to shake.
The shadows—the sadness and mistrust—in her eyes sucked him in, though. In her arms, for a few, blessed hours, he’d forgotten Megs existed. Fury surged through Johnnie and he eyed her with dislike and disgust. “I think you’re handing me a bunch of bullshit. No one hurts Megan and lives to tell about it.”
“Megan,” she spat with bitterness. “I’m sick of Megan. I came here to stop Kayla from hurting her. But no one will listen to me! No one will believe me.” She drew in a deep breath and released it on a sob. “Maybe, Ellen was telling the truth about everything. Maybe, Kayla was right to seek vengeance against Megan. She killed my sister. She ruined her engagement to Outlaw. Stole him away and sacrificed her to save her own life.”
Mortician shook her. “Shut the fuck up. Megan ain’t never lifted a fucking finger to hurt nobody and Outlaw ain’t never been engaged to no bitch before Megan.”
Johnnie stepped forward and dragged her away from Mortician, holding onto his temper by a thread. She was either the stupidest bitch he’d ever met or the bravest. Surrounded by men with orders to kill her, she had the audacity to call them liars.
She shrank back at his fury. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t do this. I swear. My sister, my twin, did it.” She gripped his shirt. “I swear. God, I swear. I was just trying to get the baby to safety when I ran.”
Johnnie shook her. “By running the fuck away with him? Bullshit,” he roared. “Listening to you spitting out how sick you were of Megan lets me know what a lying bitch you are.”
“I’m not.” She was almost hysterical. “My name is Kendall,” she repeated. “My sister’s name is Kayla. I have my ID in my car. I swear.”
Kendall’s insides shook as the man with the dark brown skin, dreadlocks tied back, diamond eye stud, and skull ring flanked her right side, while the tall, blond man intended remained at her left. They were escorting her to her car. Not that it mattered. She was sure they intended to kill her. Especially the blond man. Johnnie.
As the moments ticked by and she searched for her vehicle, she grew more and more frantic. Her Mazda was gone. Gone. And with a sinking heart, she suspected Kayla had taken Kendall’s car to escape, writing Kendall’s death sentence with her actions.
Johnnie’s voice rumbled through her and she spotted what she’d been looking for. Her sister’s Jeep. Weak, she sagged against a vehicle, the urge to retch almost overwhelming her. Kayla’s ID would be in there, not hers.
“Who the fuck are you working for?”
“N-no one,” she said with a gulp. “I was just here to..to...” Stop one sister from avenging the other.
“I don’t give a fuck actually,” he barked and she wished he’d use the low baritone he’d had as he’d made love to her. “Spitting out lies about Megs isn’t going to end well for you.”
Kendall stiffened at the way he said Megan’s name with such tenderness. He sounded as if he carried a torch for the girl. Another nail in Kendall’s coffin. If he wanted her for himself, he would want to avenge her attack. The realization that Kayla had left her to face the consequences on her own rivaled the pain Kendall experienced after so many years of forcing her food up to keep her weight down.
“Found your car yet?”
He glanced at the Jeep, then lifted a brow at her. She prayed he didn’t remember her car. It had been dark when he’d walked her out.
She licked her lips. The way he regarded her almost made her believe he had a shred of decency in him, as if he cared about other people. About her. But no one ever had and no one ever would. She was…She didn’t want to think about what she was, how Ellen’s mean barbs and her mother’s wild schemes had shaped her entire life. But she’d risen above the way Ellen called her an overgrown giraffe, made her ashamed of her own body. She’d lost the ability to care about what she knew Kayla helped their mother do. Millers were strong. They got what they wanted by any means possible. Schemes. Lies. Manipulations. Whatever and whoever they needed to be to get what they wanted, they became.
“Please. My sister took my car.”
Mortician folded his muscular arms, his wide chest only covered by the vest with the word Enforcer etched on the right side and an assortment of other patches. “So your “sister” left you holding the bag after you risked your life because of what again?”
Kendall’s temper flared. This entire situation was a clusterfuck. Her old insecurities flared up. The anger and rage. The grief. Her hatred of everything and everyone. “Megan Caldwell had our sister, Ellen, killed to save her own life!”
Johnnie shook her so hard her teeth rattled. His imagined tenderness and concern evaporated into blazing anger. “That’s a fucking lie. Ellen, if it’s the bitch who used to throw pussy around here, didn’t have goddamn sisters.”
Kendall raised her chin, the black fury in his features pulling up her fear. She tried to stiffen her resolve, remind herself that no one and nothing frightened her. She was a master manipulator and, before it was over, she’d find a way to manipulate and control this beautiful, angry man who clutched her so firmly.
Don’t do this, Kendall. Dial it back. Her conscience begged her to reason this through. Megan Caldwell wasn’t responsible for Kendall’s fucked up upbringing and splintered family ties. Ellen had been hard and unscrupulous and Kayla was even worse. Kendall had been their target too many times to count, which was why she’d wanted to hear Megan’s side of the story.
Kendall might’ve fucked to survive but she had a small bit of morality that didn’t allow her to be able to take a life without all the facts.
Sunlight bounced off Johnnie’s blond hair and Kendall blinked. His eyes studied her, his gaze flickering over her hair, her eyes, her nose. Her mouth. She swallowed, the silver in his beautiful eyes swallowing up the gray and leaving behind a burning intensity that melted Kendall’s insides. Looking at this man, smelling his cologne, hardened her nipples and wet her panties.
“Where’s your car, Kendall?” he asked, his cold tone dousing the flames of her arousal.
“Kayla took it,” she whispered, hoarse with lingering tears.
Johnnie and Mortician faced her, standing side-by-side. For once in her life, she felt dainty. She was five ten and, yet, they were both taller than her with Johnnie being a couple inches taller than Mortician.
“Let me talk to you a minute, Mort,” Johnnie said after a moment.
They stepped away from her, knowing she wouldn’t run. She had nowhere to go, no one who’d help her. There were more men outside now and a couple carried shotguns, staring in her direction. They’d blow her away without hesitation.
So how had Kayla gotten away?
“I don’t like this one fucking bit,” Mortician snapped.
Johnnie shrugged, then sauntered back to her, stopping inches from Kendall. His hair was longer on the top than it was on the sides or in the back. He wore a leather vest, too, that said Vice President. He eyed her and she had an urge to squirm and an urge to offer to fuck him in exchange for her life. He’d made her feel. Whether he’d only believed she was a whore or not, he’d made her feel special and beautiful. But he didn’t like her. Judging by the loathing in his eyes, he hated her.
She shrank back and sniffled.
“You have a twin?” he sneered, surprising her.
Kendall snatched her attention back to him and he gave her a nasty smile.
“I want to see her. If you can prove, there’s another bitch like you in this world, I might let you live. That means taking you somewhere out of Outlaw’s reach until he calms down. I’d be risking my life to save yours, so one sign of bullshit from you and you’ll be sorry.”
His hand circled her throat, not squeezing, just lingering, his fingertips warm against her skin. He pressed his body into hers and she felt every hard plane of him.
“I don’t know what the fuck Ellen told you about Megan but whatever it was, it was nothing but lies. Ellen—“ He spat her sister’s name and the tone cut through Kendall— “threw more pussy around than a whore on a holiday. Yes, Outlaw fucked her, but they were part of a threesome. Ellen knew fucking well she wasn’t anything more to Outlaw than pussy.”
Her heart rate sped up and more fear seeped into her.
“I don’t give a damn what Ellen told you. Ellen lied. The only thing Megs ever did for your sister was try and get along with her. She might not have liked it, but as long as Ellen didn’t give Megs shit, Megs tolerated her.”
Kendall shook her head. Did he know what he was saying? Yes, her sister was hard and harsh and had had a shitty childhood, but she hadn’t lie to Kendall and Kayla about her relationship with Outlaw. Not when she and Kayla had had to console Ellen on so many nights once Christmas had come and gone, and Outlaw had taken Megan to meet his mother in Ellen’s place.
“If we can’t find another you, you’re dead.”
Kendall sagged against Johnnie and sobbed. Instead of offering her the comfort of his arms, he stood tense and straight. But she wanted someone to understand her crazed grief over Ellen and her sense of betrayal over Kayla’s actions today. Ellen hadn’t even had an open casket because most of her head had been shot away. And their mother. God, their mother.
For so many years, Kendall had ignored Ellen’s existence. After forgiving the effects of Ellen’s verbal abuse, her older sister had been an embarrassment to her. Kendall hadn’t wanted Kayla tainting her either, but she’d remained in contact with her twin. Somehow, she just hadn’t been able to cut all ties.
Kendall had worked hard to get scholarships and present to the world the person she’d wanted to be. Her academic smarts came naturally to her but not the stylish clothes. Not her pretty car and nice apartment. The men Kendall involved herself with were older, wealthy, sophisticated and caring. They spoiled her and kept her where she wanted to be.
Then, Ellen had come over for Christmas dinner at their mother’s, and, sobbed out the entire sad story of what Ellen had been going through. Kendall’s heart broke for her big sister and the guilt ate at her. She and Kayla had vowed to support their sister and help her through this by any means possible.
A couple weeks ago, Kayla had come to Kendall and told her about a birthday party going on today and the woman Ellen named as being the basis for most of her misery was serving as hostess. Kayla had seen it as the perfect opportunity to avenge both Ellen and their mother, Marie.
Kendall had thought it was a recipe for disaster, so she’d come too, having every intention to get Megan alone to talk to her. But the woman was never alone. Her husband shadowed her every move. And if it wasn’t her husband, it was an older woman. Or Johnnie. Or…whoever. So she’d done the next thing she could and went outside to wait for Kayla.
“Are you through?”
Johnnie’s cold voice snapped Kendall out of her revelry and she jerked away. His look chilled her. She sniffled.
“What are you going to do?” she whispered.
He shrugged. “That depends on you.”
“If you’ve told the truth, I’ll take you somewhere until you find your sister and we can get our hands on her. If you’re telling the truth, I can talk to Megs and have her appeal to Outlaw on your behalf.”
Kendall swayed. She had to find a way to get out of this. Afterwards, she’d murder Kayla herself, but no way would she hand over her sister. She wanted to scream in frustration. Kayla should’ve listened. And, my God, Kayla had been so vicious and brutal in her attack. Kendall shivered just thinking about it.
“Megs better survive this,” he continued. “Because if she doesn’t, your life will be as worthless as your fucking twin’s.”
“Why do you call her Megs?”
Surprise swept away some of his cold anger at her completely irrelevant question. A muscle worked in his jaw. “Since I met her, she’s been Megs to me and she always will be.”
“You have feelings for her.”
“Megan is Outlaw’s wife. He loves her mind, body, and soul, and she loves him just as fiercely. The only thing I want for both of them is their happiness. And if Megs has really lost her baby because of you, neither of them will be too happy.”
“Fuck,” Mortician put in, “none of us will be happy.”
Johnnie nodded in agreement and the wind fluttered through his hair. “You hurt her and you tried to steal her son. I’d die for her and I’d kill for her.”
Dejected at his answer, Kendall’s shoulders slumped. Had he fucked the oh-so-wonderful Megs? Had Megan Caldwell experienced some of what Kendall had felt in the arms of the only man who’d given her a sense of protection? She didn’t like the thought of that and admitted seeing the real love everyone felt for the girl sent horrible jealousy through Kendall. Not to mention she couldn’t have been over five feet two inches and was just gorgeous.
“And if I don’t cooperate?” Her head pounded. She sounded like a mad woman, vacillating between anger and fear, bitterness and reason. “If you find out I’m telling the truth about Kayla and I don’t tell you where you might be able to find her?”
“Then you’re on your own.”
Kendall licked her lips. “Wh-what do I have to do in return for your protection?”
Mortician snorted and the two men exchanged glances.
He stared at her a moment and heat flashed in her veins at the slow smile curving his mouth. Wickedness sparkled in his eyes. “You want to fuck?” he asked lazily.
Her breath caught and her pulse raced at being in his arms again. She nodded. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she hadn’t had sex in exchange for something. She didn’t do one night stands and she didn’t offer services in exchange for money. She just attached herself to men who were in the position to give her things. Sugar Daddies. Having sex with this gorgeous man in return for his protection would be easy.
Mortician’s snicker made her heart sank and he folded his arms.
“Who are you offering to fuck, Kendall? Me?” He nodded to Mortician. “Mort? Or both of us?”
She didn’t want anyone to ruin how she’d felt with Johnnie and having someone else in bed with them would take away her fantasy that she meant something to him. She knew it was a lie. But he had the ability to make her believe she was the most important woman in the world and the only one for him.
But she wanted to live and if she had to fuck both of them to save her life, she would. Mortician was beautiful himself, so at least that was something. Better than her current, dried-up, nearly impotent lover.
“Well, girl?” Mortician asked, his dark eyes all-knowing.
She swallowed. If she wanted them to believe her, she had to be honest with everything. But, Jesus, she was so afraid. Honesty had always come back to haunt her and, now, her life hung in the balance. “If…if I h-have to sleep with both of you,” she managed. To her horror, more tears rushed to her eyes. “But…but I was talking about Johnnie.”
They fell silent, taking their time about lighting cigarettes and releasing the smoke once they’d taken a drag. She coughed. It didn’t matter because they kept smoking and watching her, their silence unnerving.
“What makes you think I want to fuck you?” Johnnie asked after a moment.
From his expression, Kendall knew it didn’t matter to him one way or the other. She couldn’t even be sure if they’d let her live once she slept with them.
He stepped closer, big and intimidating, in her personal space. It took everything in her to stand her ground.
“You’re a cold-blooded, fucking slut. Ready to fuck whichever brother you need to. When Outlaw refused to fuck you, you let me do it. If I refused to fuck you now, you’d let Mort do it.” He tipped her chin up again. “Now, I’m asking you again. Who the fuck are you working for? Did someone send you the night of Outlaw’s bachelor party?”
He had her pegged wrong. She wanted to shout that to him, but his opinion of her had already been formed and she couldn’t change it.
“No one sent me,” she repeated again as she had earlier. But added another truth. “I came to seduce Outlaw. It was going to be our retribution for Ellen and our mom. I failed, so Kayla has been looking for an opportunity to strike ever since.”
Anger and tension radiated from Johnnie’s body. He took another drag and surprised her yet again when he turned away from her to release the smoke. As close as he was, he could’ve blown it right into her face.
The gesture cramped her belly and she was glad when Mortician stepped beside Johnnie.
“Kendall, right?” he asked in a hard voice.
“Okay, Kendall.” He paused to suck on his cigarette and turned away from her just like Johnnie had. “This here’s the fucking deal. We don’t want innocent fucking blood on our hands, but make no mistake we don’t like your fucking ass. As to the issue of you and me fucking—“ He smirked at Johnnie, who scowled in return—“I think I’m better off letting John Boy tap that.”
“And I might be better off kicking your fucking ass,” Johnnie growled, holding the cigarette between his long, thick fingers and gesturing to Mortician. “Take her the fuck away and get her ready for transport.”
Mortician laughed, then grabbed her arm and started to turn her around.
She dug the heels of her sneakers into the gravel. “Please? What are you going to do to me?”
Johnnie stared at her, seeming to be waging a debate whether or not he’d explain things to her or let her stew in all types of awful imaginings. “He’s going to bring you to a shed. Get addresses and telephone numbers from you.” He flicked his cigarette aside and gave her a hard look. “Might risk it and have your ID ran by our guys. See what we can find. All depends on whether or not my dick gets hard for you or not.” His insulting perusal sent waves of anger through her. But it also cut her like a sharp knife. He thought her little more than garbage. “If I can fuck you, I’ll bring you to my house. Tie you up…you’ll be my prisoner, after all…and fuck you some more.”
“Man, John Boy, no way you calling in her ID. Outlaw will know we didn’t ground her and he’ll make us dig our own fucking graves.”
“You’re right, brother.” White teeth flashed with his feral smile. “We’re a family,” he explained in conversational tones. “I’d risk my own ass. Refuse to risk Mort, though. Take her. Do whatever the fuck you want to her, then bound and gag her and throw her in my Navigator. I’ll be in the clubhouse until you’re done.”
He stalked away, not giving Kendall a backward glance.