Chapter 14 - Misunderstood - Original Storyline

14

For the next three days, Johnnie’s scarcity frustrated Kendall beyond belief. She saw him in the morning where he grunted a few words in passing. On that first morning, he’d taken her car and didn’t return with it. She was furious, knowing he had taken it somewhere out of vengeance.

The third day, she called Benny and had him pick her up. He was so happy to see her and she felt so vindicated by his reaction to her, she sucked his semi-erect dick while he used his tongue on her. If Johnnie didn’t want her, she didn’t need him. Other men desired her body and she returned to his house that night to flaunt what she’d done in Johnnie’s face.

She didn’t see him for four days and, by then, all types of emotions went through her. She wanted to confront him and demand to know where he’d been and who he’d been with. But he seemed not to even notice her.

As day four blended into the fifth, Benny called her again. She smiled and answered the phone. “Hey, lover man,” she purred.

“Kendall, dear,” he started off and she heard the worry in his voice.

She straightened in the chair she was sitting in. “What is it?”

“The police just my office,” he said in a loud whisper.

Kendall swallowed. “Wh-what?” They’d discovered the help she’d given her mother with those assisted suicides and would charge her with murder. She’d be humiliated, her life in jeopardy.

“There’s a warrant out for your arrest because you assaulted a Megan Caldwell.”

She choked. “How did they…?” Her car. Johnnie had taken her car and turned it over to the police. She didn’t know if she wanted to hate him or felt so hurt and betrayed, she, herself, would die.

“Wh-what did you say?”

“I’m going to cover for you as long as I can, my dear. But I’m not going to risk jail on your behalf. I have to keep you a secret from my wife, children, and grandchildren. You understand, I'm sure.”

“Your phone line might be tapped.” She was blinking furiously, not succeeding in holding back her tears of anger and betrayal. “We need to hang up.”

“Yes, yes, of course. One other thing. They’re keeping watch on your apartment. I advise you to stay away as long as you can.”

            Kendall stared at her naked body in the mirror attached to the dresser, swaying on her feet. After her conversation with Benny, she’d gone to the liquor table and discovered Johnnie had bought Stoli. She assumed it was for her, so she’d partaken. And continued to partake until she was shit-faced.

            She’d gained weight in the days she’d been here and every extra pound showed on her body. That’s why Johnnie didn’t want her, anymore. She’d gotten fat and ugly with monstrous breasts. The only thing she’d ever liked about herself was her hair. Her red hair set her apart and, after she’d gotten out of treatment, it had once again become a shiny mass of glorious fire.

            The only thing glorious about her. Everything else was worthless. She had no heart and no soul, proven by the fact she wanted Megan Caldwell dead so bad she was almost willing to risk going to the hospital and finishing her off. Johnnie had turned her in and she was a fugitive. She’d gone into Johnnie’s library and taken it upon herself to use his computer, just then realizing he had music systems but no television. When she’d googled her name, she’d almost fallen to the floor in a dead faint. She was wanted on charges of attempted murder and feticide.

            If she had to go to prison, it would be for that little slut’s murder and nothing less.

            Her heart twisted and her face crumpled. Johnnie had chosen another man’s wife over her. He’d pretended to care about her and want to help her, then stabbed her in the back.

            Fingers trembling, she touched her belly. It was soft, like her thighs, like the pillows of her breasts.

            You fat, stupid giraffe.

            Kendall covered her ears to drown out Ellen’s words, but they wouldn’t go away. Because they were no longer spoken aloud. It was worse. They were stuck in Kendall’s head. She stumbled to the bed where she had a bag of chips and a plate of scrambled eggs. She sat, ripped open the bag and began stuffing the chips into her mouth, barely stopping to breathe. She’d crunched and couple times, her teeth breaking them apart only enough so they wouldn’t strangle her as she swallowed them.

            Chips fell over her fat, pale thighs, onto the bed, and onto the floor. Nausea churned in Kendall’s belly and she paused, determined not to let this take away her control. She’d control this situation. Not the food or the bile rising in her.

            When she’d emptied the bag, she grabbed a handful of eggs and shoved it into her mouth, gagging, holding onto the contents of her stomach by sheer will. Sweat was pouring off her and her belly was hurting so bad, but she wanted somebody to like her and care about her.

            She shoved more eggs into her mouth and let out a desperate sob, pressing the palm of her egg-less hand against her cheeks and forehead to wipe away her mother’s brain and bone fragments. It was all over her. Marie hadn’t wanted to stay with her fat, ugly daughter. She’d wanted to go and take care of Ellen. Her Ellen.

            Kendall’s skin crawled and she swiped at her neck and face and nose. Blood plastered her hair to her head. It had to be blood. Marie’s head had blown apart, spraying Kendall everywhere. She scraped her nails through her scalp, not understanding why she didn’t see blood dripping from her fingertips when she looked at them.

            It was there. She knew it was. She needed to wash away the blood and gore until the water ran cold, just as soon as her mother’s body was removed.

            She shoved the last of the eggs into her mouth, fogginess clouding her mind and vision, blotting out the body of her mother. All that blood and gore. Taking away the feel of a million little bugs crawling over her skin.

            She fell to the floor, holding out her hands to soften the landing. Her breasts jiggled with her movements, hung in grotesque heaps. If she’d had a knife, she would’ve cut them off.

            “Fat slut. The only thing men want you for is your big titties. Who’d want an overgrown giraffe like you, you bitch. You have the nerve to call me a whore? At least I look like a woman. Even with those tits, the only way men are sure what you are is when they see your used-up pussy. That’s why you’re always spreading it.”

            Kendall jammed her fingers down her throat, gagging around the unexpected invasion. She held her breath, kept her fingers stuffed in her mouth until her belly heaved and the contents of her stomach came spewing out, slipping over her forearm and thigh in a mess of chewed up eggs and potato chips, vodka and bile.

            She hated Ellen.

            She hated Marie.

            She hated Megan.

            But, most of all, she hated herself.

            Things were not going good. But when had they in the last few days, Johnnie mused, as he unlocked his door and walked into the house. Since the day after Christopher’s visit, Johnnie had been making back-and-forth trips on a daily basis to keep his cousin clueless about Kendall’s continued existence. He used the excuse of needing to get the lab in order for Johnnie to run things smoothly at the MC when Christopher left.

            He frowned at the silence and the darkness. Usually when he arrived, Kendall was at the breakfast bar. He suspected she practiced the art of glaring all day since she’d perfected the one she always threw him. Entering the kitchen and flipping on the light, he took in the empty egg carton, the shells of a dozen cracked eggs strewn across the counter. A pan and spatula sat on the stove, coated with dried egg. The bottle of Stoli he’d purchased for Kendall lay on the floor, drained of its contents. The cabinet door where he kept chips and other snacks gaped open.

            What the hell happened?

            Knowing he’d only find answers from Kendall, he made his way to the guest room and knocked. She didn’t respond. “Open the goddamn door, Kendall.”

            Shit. He didn’t want to deal with her right now. She’d want to know about her car and he’d have to tell her there was a warrant out for her arrest. If Christopher had wanted this to go away, he would sank that car in a river. He didn’t have to turn it over to the police department. All it did was cost him more money to keep them from snooping into the rest of their shit.

On the good side, Megan had been home for three days. He could only hope his plea that she campaign to Christopher on Kendall’s behalf worked. Because she’d also have to lobby for his life, too. Just thinking about his cousin carrying Megan into the MC made Johnnie’s heart twist.

            It’d surprised him when Christopher had brought her to the club instead of taking her to their house, but, then, he realized he’d just followed Megan’s instructions. Cheers and catcalls had greeted their arrival and she’d thanked everyone and demanded life get back to normal because she was fine now and they could have their president back now that her crisis had passed.

            Undoubtedly, Outlaw was needed. Everything was in a holding pattern and Johnnie knew they’d face some serious shit if those guns weren’t delivered soon. They had half their fee. One brick which equaled a million dollars. They had to get the goods to their buyer. But Christopher didn’t want to leave Megan and Johnnie needed to get Outlaw’s death edict on Kendall lifted, so he’d punked out and told Outlaw he didn’t know the buyer like Christopher and he might somehow offend the man. His cousin was too strung out over planning his little son’s funeral to pay much attention to Johnnie’s poor excuse.

            Feeling lower than dirt, he’d done the only thing he could think of. Once Outlaw got Megan settled and returned to the clubhouse, Johnnie had ducked away to visit her. After drinking in the sight of her, he’d explained the entire situation to her.

            She’d stared at him, blinking away tears. Without warning, she’d grabbed his hand and put it over her belly, her blue eyes filled with grief. “If you would’ve touched my belly three days ago, you would’ve felt my son kicking.” She sniffled. “Now, he’s gone.”

            Desperate, Johnnie had taken her face between his hands and thumbed her tears away. “I know, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry. But think about it. Think about what it’ll do to Christopher once he realizes he’s ordered her death. Gotten a woman killed.”

            “I don’t care!”

            He’d shaken her, forgetting about her incision until she moaned. He laid his forehead against hers and he realized she was groggy from the pain medicine. Otherwise, she never would’ve allowed him to get so close to her, inches from her mouth.

            “Megs,” he’d whispered, brushing his lips across hers. “You do care. Please. Talk to Christopher for me. Get him to rescind those orders.”

            Drawing in a shuddering breath, she’d fallen against her pillows. They were on the third floor of the house, in the master bedroom, where the glass wall revealed the lush greenery in the woods. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, hard for her.

            “If you never do anything else for me, please, do this for me,” he’d begged.

            “Christopher told me she was the girl who was grinding on his lap.”

            Johnnie had nodded. Christopher didn’t lie to Megan about anything. He didn’t speak of the things he did on behalf of the club, but Johnnie knew if she’d wanted to know, his cousin would’ve told her.

            “Val said you slept with her.”

            Again, he nodded. Why lie to her when she’d chosen his cousin?

            She’d closed her eyes. “All right, Johnnie,” she’d said softly. “If that’s who you want, I’ll get Christopher to change his mind.”

            “Megs, it isn’t like that,” he’d protested.

            Those blue eyes popped open and she frowned. “Like what?”

            “What Kendall and I have is nothing ever-lasting. I’m just sticking to the code of the Dwellers.”

            “That’s her name? Kendall?”

            They’d stared at one another and he wished he could take away her pain. Seeing Megan made him understand why Christopher wanted blood. He’d understood before he’d seen her, but she was just devastated.

            All because of Kendall.

            “Yes.”

            “I want you happy, Johnnie. You deserve it.” She’d sobbed through laughter. “I might not ever be her BFF, but if she makes you happy, hold onto her. I’ll make Christopher see reason.”

From what Johnnie understood, she hadn’t had the surgery Christopher spoke of, but was on birth control pills, a fact he was certain Christopher wouldn’t want known but he’d discovered because Dinah, Megan’s bird-brained mother had asked him to pick up the goddamn prescription as he was leaving the house yesterday.

            God, the woman hadn’t protected Megan from the man she’d married and she didn’t seem to care she was putting Megan’s business out.

            These goddamn women were going to drive him insane.

            Johnnie pounded on the door. “I’m not playing.”

            Knowing she wouldn’t answer it, he turned the knob. Preparing to blast her, he stopped short when he saw her curled up in a pool of vomit and naked.

            “Fuck! Kendall.” Fear curdling his stomach, he rushed to her and lifted her in his arms. She was warm, overly so as a matter of fact, and smelled strongly of alcohol. A soft snore escaped her. Spinning on his heel, he slid in some of the vomit and cursed. His intention was to lay her on the bed until he started the shower, but he saw the empty bag of chips, the plate, the chips and pieces of egg on the bed.

            He redirected his steps and headed to his bedroom, laying her on his bed, praying for a small bit of luck. If she remained still, she wouldn’t soil his bed and he could devote his time caring for her instead of trying to find a clean place for them to lay once he got her out of the shower.

            Ripping open his shirt, he grimaced at the smears of dried blood on his chest. He thought he’d washed away all the blood after Digger had come and removed an asshole who’d gotten on the wrong side of club business. Once Johnnie stood nude, he went and started the shower, adjusting the water so it wouldn’t be too cold, although he wanted it cool.

            Then, he got her and brought her into the shower. He wrapped his arms around her to hold her up. When the first beads of water hit her back, she moaned and swayed in his arms.

            “Easy, gorgeous,” he whispered, tightening his arms around her. Her soft body pressed into his and she felt so fragile and vulnerable. Keeping one arm secured around her, he reached for the bar of soap before laying her head on his shoulder and walking her further under the water, making sure she was completely wet. Moving her hair in a wet heap over her shoulder and letting it covering one of her breasts, he spread the soap over the elegant line of her back down to her buttocks, working up a lather on her before turning her to face the water.

            He allowed the water to hit the top of her head, her brow, and each cheek. She gasped, an encouraging sign, but if she’d really drank an entire bottle of vodka, he wouldn’t let her go. He ran the bar of soap over her breasts, belly, and thighs, replacing the smell of vomit with a clean, citrusy scent. Deciding to press his luck, he grabbed his shampoo and poured it on her head, soaping her hair, then washing it out and slathering conditioner on it. When he finished cleaning her up, he glanced down at her and saw she was staring at him, a dazed look in her eyes.

            He got them out of the shower and wrapped her body and hair in towels, then lifted her into his arms, feeling her trembles.

            “Johnnie?” she whispered as he laid her on his bed and pulled the covers back, so he could tuck her in. She blinked at him and he knuckled her cheek. “You didn’t leave me.”

            Her brown eyes filled with tears and he wondered who this tortured, vulnerable woman truly was. Who was the real Kendall?

            He grazed his lips over her temple. “Rest, Kendall. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

            “No!” she screeched, grasping his wrists and jerking him to her. “You’ll just leave again. I know your true reason for not touching me anymore. You didn’t even care I had oral sex with Benny three weeks ago! And I know why.”

            She was struggling to pull him onto her, fighting to place her lips on his, but in order to do that she had to free one of her hands to turn his head toward her. Johnnie turned his head to the side and caught her wrist, pinning them above her head, her breasts pressing into his chest.

            “I didn’t know you’d had any type of sex with him,” he snapped, not liking—or wanting—the jealousy he felt.

            “You did! You had to. You said you cared about me and if you cared about me, then you would’ve known I used my mouth on another man.”

            “Kendall, sleep off the alcohol. We’ll talk in the morning.”

            He released her and got to his feet, damning his erection. She was in no state for him to make love to her, but, hell, he hadn’t been with a woman since he’d had Kendall on the hood of her car. He passed up every opportunity that presented himself because he just wasn’t interested. To hear she’d gone with her senior citizen lover…What did he expect? Kendall had a shitload of issues.

            Kendall wobbled to her knees, her towels falling away. She hung precariously over the edge of the bed, threatening to topple over. To prevent that, Johnnie grasped her arms. She seized his dick, ducking her head to take him into her mouth.

            “Kendall, goddamn it, no!”

            His attempt to pry her mouth away earned the nip of her sharp teeth and his toes curled.  She was sucking him like a mad woman, her saliva dripping onto his balls, her head bobbing up and down in a frantic motion. He had no chance against her onslaught, so he gripped the damp tangles of her hair and held her in place to fuck her mouth with all the enthusiasm she’d shown him and when he came, she pulled away, allowing his semen to spray her face.

            She collapsed onto her side and rolled onto her back, opening her legs and spreading her pussy like a Thanksgiving feast.

            “I’ll lose weight. I promise. I couldn’t stop myself from eating. I couldn’t…I just got fat again. But I made it come up and I’m going to lose the weight, so you can want me again.”

            “Kendall, hush,” he soothed, crawling beside her and gathering her into his arms. He swallowed, her words hitting him in the gut. “Hush, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous. I didn’t stop touching you because I think your fat.”

            “You did!”

            Of course she didn’t believe him because she never believed one thing he told her and that was the most exhausting thing about her. Jesus, he’d had to pull a gun on her because she refused to give up her hatred of Megan.

            “Take me now, then, Johnnie. Please.” She entwined her legs around his and rubbed her wetness against his thigh.

            While he froze in indecision, she swayed onto him, wrapping her hands around his cock and guiding it to her slick entrance. She impaled herself to the hilt and began a rhythm as wild as her dick sucking had been.

            She bent and grabbed his head, guiding her mouth to her bouncing breasts, stilling herself long enough to allow him to latch on. He drew the turgid tip between his teeth and suckled, pulling a harsh cry from her. He rammed his cock into her, meeting the downward motion of her body.

            She lifted herself up, then speared him back into her hot pussy, her juices drenching his balls and thighs. Switching to the other breast, he licked her nipple, blowing on the tip, his fingers finding her clit and wringing the first screaming orgasm from her.

            He rolled her onto her back, let his cum shoot onto her belly, and cleaned her up with the damp towel.

            He scooted down her body until he reached her feet and he sat up on his haunches. He took one foot into his hand and massaged the arch, bringing his mouth to the top and placing a soft kiss near her big toe. He slid his tongue to her ankle and she lifted up on her elbows, her gaze dazed with passion, alcohol, and secrets. He never removed his gaze from hers, determined to hold her captive, as he laved her calf, her knee, the inside of her thigh before he did the same to the other side and turned her over to kiss the globes of her luscious ass.

            She moaned. Johnnie spread her legs apart and tugged her ass into the air, her clit brushing his nose. He covered her pussy with his mouth and wiggled the tip of his tongue against her, lapping her delicious cream, nipping her tender folds. Gobbling her cunt until she screamed and begged him to stop. Leaving her exposed and vulnerable, he buried himself inside her, bracing his weight on one arm when he leaned forward.

            “I’ve just worshipped every inch of your body with my tongue, Kendall,” he said huskily. “Because I think you’re gorgeous and worthy to be up on a pedestal.” He stroked in and out her, his movements slow and gentle. “I can’t make you believe me, sweetheart. Only you can do that. Only you can be strong enough to conquer the demons haunting you.” He traced the shell of her ear with his lips, his cock working into her at a subdued pace. He caressed her back, felt her shudders. “That’s it, gorgeous, let it go,” he crooned. “Come for me.”

            She groaned and shook, quietly sobbing his name when he flicked his finger over her clit to prolong her orgasm. When she was completely spent, he withdrew from her and released into her back.

            Wondering if he’d convinced her to trust him with the sex she’d demanded, when, so far, nothing else he’d tried had worked.