Friday, October 7, 2016

Chapter 10 - Misunderstood - Original




10

            Locked in his bedchamber, Johnnie paced, damning the anger still ruling him. Damning Kendall and Megs. They were the reason he was in his current predicament. He rubbed his neck and gritted his teeth. No, they weren’t. His damnable temper was. With everything veiled in humor, he coped with anything. But there wasn’t anything humorous about this situation.
            He scowled and paced, his dick throbbing. He shouldn’t have walked away from Kendall. Instead, he should’ve fucked her half to death. Yet, he hadn’t been able to. No, hadn’t wanted to. His dick had been quite ready and willing. Fucking her, just then, with him so furious with her, would’ve only been an act of domination.
            Her questions about Megs frustrated the hell out of him. He was interested in Kendall. Couldn’t the aggravating witch see that? Didn’t she understand what his protection was costing him? Yet, she’d been hell bent on questioning what had happened in the past with Megs.
            After the fucked-up scene with Outlaw, why would that wench provoke him so thoroughly? He knew why. He’d had enough dealings with Ellen to figure out some things about her sisters. Kendall was unlike Ellen in many ways, but like her in so many others. He sensed she was used to manipulating everything and everyone around her. Those sly little glances she sent him clued him in. While they were sexy as hell, he’d dealt with enough women to know what type of woman he was dealing with.
            And, yet…yet…goddamn it. She had no one. Certainly not fucking Kayla. The bitch had left Kendall to deal with the ramifications…
Fuck! What was he thinking? He wasn’t making excuses for Kendall, was he? Maybe, somewhere, she had a boyfriend, a close girlfriend, and he was seeing what he wanted to see to justify how much she fascinated him. Because he didn’t want or need this complication in his life. By her own stubbornness, Kendall was all kinds of complications.
            Even if he figured out how the hell to save her—and keep Mortician alive—it wasn’t as if he could bring her to the MC as his old lady. Megs’s was the Dwellers’ princess, the angel amidst the devils. Few people would overlook her sister’s actions against her.
            Besides, in all his conversations with Kendall about Megs and for all her protestations of her guilt, her lingering hostility was hard to overlook. Was he trying to save a woman determined to hurt his cousin’s wife? Maybe, pick up where Kayla had failed?
            Outlaw was right. If he loved Megs so much, why wouldn’t he hand over the sister of her attacker? Because he was human. Kendall was the first woman who’d caught his attention since he’d fallen for Megs. He didn’t think it was wrong of him. On the other hand, maybe, he was seeing what he wanted to see in Kendall because of his loneliness.
            His ringing cellphone halted his pacing and interrupted his thoughts. He frowned at the sound, indicating Outlaw was calling. He took it out of his pocket and laid it on his bureau, allowing it to go to voicemail. He didn’t think Outlaw had suddenly had a revelation and was calling to make peace with him. More likely, he was calling to order him to the clubhouse so he could beat him within an inch of his life for what he’d revealed.
            On second thought, that might save Kendall and Mortician. Johnnie wasn’t dumb enough to believe that his cousin would stop once he’d broken every bone in his body and crushed his balls. And that was the biggest problem. He’d gladly submit to an ass-beating in exchange for their lives, but he wanted to walk away with his life, too.
            If not for Mortician, he could take Kendall away for a few days.
            His phone began to peal Outlaw’s ringtone again. He’d ben relentless until he answered. Glowering, he snatched the device up and pressed the green button. “What do you need?” he bit out.
            “Johnnie?”
            Johnnie’s heart stuttered and then sped up again to hear her weak, little voice. “Megs?” he croaked.
            “Are you all right?”
            He choked out a laugh. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Why wouldn’t I be?”
            “V-Val,” she managed. She sounded drugged and he realized she must’ve been sedated against the physical pain and emotional trauma. “He told me.”
            Johnnie’s jaw clenched. Asshole. Valentine had absolutely no right, disturbing Megs in her sickbed.
            “Christopher…” Her voice trailed off and she fell silent, drew in a deep breath. “Christopher l-loves you, Johnnie. I’m going to…you two are cousins.” Her voice was drifting away and he swallowed, wanting to hang onto their connection a moment longer. But he shouldn’t encourage her. If Christopher knew they were speaking, he’d go insane.
            “He hates me.”
            “No. Never,” she denied.
            “Megs—“
            “I-I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” She sucked in a breath. “I did call from his phone?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I think I did because he dialed.”
            “Where is he now?”
            “Where’s Christopher?” she asked, puzzled.
            “Right the fuck next to her, you fuckin’ motherfucker,” an angry voice blared in the background.
            “Would you talk to him?” Megs asked and she sounded exhausted. None of them deserved her. She was trying to save a relationship that might be irreparable.
            “Fuck no!”
            A sigh.
            “Now, you heard that motherfucker’s voice. I ain’t fuckin’ offed him. Happy, Megan?”
            “With you, always, Christopher,” she slurred.
            “Aww, fuck, Megan. How you do this shit to me?”
            Johnnie hung up, unable to hear anymore. Even in her drugged state, her adoration for Christopher came through.
            The ringtone blared again and Johnnie didn’t hesitate to answer. “Megs?”
            “No, motherfucker. It ain’t Megs. She went to sleep. She been through enough, so this is the deal. I’m givin’ you one fuckin’ more chance to atone for you fuckin’ sins, assfuck. By the time Megan come home, I want that fuckin’ bitch in the ground. Understand? This bitch ain’t understandin’ nothin’ but violence. Her dead sister was a fuckin’ violent bitch. The prototype of her is a fuckin’ violent bitch. And ain’t no motherfucker in the world gonna tell me she ain’t a violent motherfucker, too.”
            “You don’t know her, so you can’t be sure of that.”
            “And I don’t ever want to fuckin’ know her. I don’t have to know her to know she a violent slut.”
            “Stop it, Christopher.”
            “No, motherfucker. I ain’t Christopher to you. I ain’t Christopher to you ever again. I’m Outlaw or Prez. Got me? I don’t give a fuck what you think about her. You pumpin’ her pussy. I ain’t. Even if I was, if she was a violent slut, I’d say she was a violent slut.”
            Johnnie heaved in a breath. He couldn’t refute that because Christopher would certainly say it. If Kendall had gotten a reprieve, then…”What about Mortician?”
            “Insurance,” Christopher said without remorse. “You fucks know the deal.”
            “Where is he?”
            “On lock fuckin’ down. Brought out to see Megan under the threat of an even more violent death than what he facin’ if you choose to protect that bitch if he say one fuckin’ thing to my wife. I thought we was family. But families stick together. Families don’t let no bitch come in and hurt one of us, especially the most important one of us.”
            Shit. “How’s everyone else?” Johnnie asked slowly.
            “You ain’t meanin’ everyone else, fuckhead. You meanin’ Val cuz you know bringin’ shit to Megan right now was the wrong fuckin’ thing to do.” Christopher growled. “All you fucks touched in the head. I don’t know whose asses you been livin’ in these past two years not to know the fuckin’ rules.”
            Johnnie couldn’t help but wonder the same thing because if there ever was a girl who managed to bring them all together as quickly as she could divide them up, it was Megan. They overlooked that because she overlooked it. Without her to balance things, the only one who didn’t overlook it was Christopher.
            “Valentine in recovery,” Christopher said after a quiet moment.
            Not surprising.
            “So what now?”

            “You know what the fuck now. I’m not havin’ her upset. Period. I want her home. ‘Til she released, I’ll let her talk to you every day. I’ll bring Mortician to see her every day. I’ll let you handle the business of Ellen’s sister. When she home, though, all bets are fuckin’ off.”

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