Misled. Part 23

Meggie refused to say anything more. "I can walk to Patricia's house." She ducked under his arm and around his body, refusing to acknowledge her achy nipples and wet s.e.x.

He caught up to her but she didn't slow her stride. He adjusted his steps to her shorter pace. "Why are you lonely?" she asked after a few minutes of walking in silence.

"My girlfriend decided to marry someone else."

"I'm sorry," she said, meaning it. "That must've been devastating."

"It was," he agreed. "But I wanted her happy. I left the club to make her happy. In the long run, we weren't right for each other."

"It's hard to imagine you not being right for someone."

His teeth flashed again. "That so?" he asked, smug. "That means I'm right for you?"

"I walked right into that, didn't I?" She chuckled.

"I'm afraid you did."

A few moments later, they reached the porch. She opened the door since Patricia didn't believe in locking anything and turned to Johnnie. With the porch light on, she saw his beautiful gray eyes and handsome face. He kissed her again.

"Invite me in. There are other ways to give each other pleasure. I don't have to penetrate you."

Patricia had already retired and the house was quiet. Emptiness loomed and the temptation to give in to Johnnie almost overwhelmed her. He wanted to use his tongue on her and Christopher had taught her how to enjoy that. What would it hurt?

"Licking your p.u.s.s.y isn't the same as putting my d.i.c.k in you," he said, nuzzling her neck.

Meggie pressed her hand to her belly. If Christopher's baby grew inside of her, she couldn't give herself to anyone else. They'd become lovers about a month ago and she was growing more and more anxious waiting for her period.

Johnnie licked her ear and Meggie gasped. "You smell so f.u.c.king good," he rumbled. "And I want you so f.u.c.king bad, Megan."

"Y-you promised," she murmured in an unsteady voice.

"I know but you're so f.u.c.king gorgeous and, tonight, f.u.c.k...tonight, Megan. In that little red lace dress."

He looked like temptation himself wearing a tan Henley, camouflage chinos, and black leather jacket, left casually open.

"Baby, I swear," he said, clasping her waist, "I swear, I'll make you come so many times." His thumb flickered over her sensitive nipple. "Let me come to your room." He kissed her throat. "Lay you on your bed." A lick to the pulse point at her neck. "Shove your dress above your waist." He brushed her lips with his mouth, teased her nipple again. "Spread your p.u.s.s.y open." He sucked her bottom lip and she moaned. "Taste your c.l.i.t with the tip of my tongue." Covering her nipple with his mouth, he suckled, hard, the wet heat of his tongue sparking fire in her, even though her dress still covered her breast. He bit the hardened tip and Meggie cried out, stars exploding behind her eyes, her body weaker than her intentions.

One arm around her waist, he kissed her deeper and Meggie kissed him back, allowing him to guide her hand to his bared p.e.n.i.s. She caressed the slippery head, spreading his moisture, then fisted him, doing everything Christopher taught her. His hand slipped into her panties and he tore his mouth from hers.

"You're f.u.c.king soaked. For me," he growled, caressing her c.l.i.t and slipping two fingers inside her. Her pulls and strokes on his p.e.n.i.s grew harder while the in and out motion of his fingers sent s.h.i.+vers through her and she cried out against his mouth.

His grunts lowered and harshened with each thrust into her hand. Meggie could hold off no longer and shudders racked her body, his fingers ma.s.saging her slippery inner walls, his thumb circling her c.l.i.t. He swallowed her soft cries, her o.r.g.a.s.m tipping him over the edge and hot s.e.m.e.n gushed from him, raining onto her fingertips and his Henley.

Slowly, he backed away from her and she stood there, trembling from the aftershocks of her o.r.g.a.s.m and his overwhelming pa.s.sion. Their heavy breathing punctuated the silence, but Meggie didn't know what to say. He used his s.h.i.+rt to clean her fingers, then tipped her chin up.

"Christopher is one lucky f.u.c.ker." He sighed. "I'd fight an army to have you, Megan, but you don't want me. You want him."

Unable to dispute that, she whispered, "I've never lied to you. But it doesn't matter. He doesn't want me."

"If Christopher doesn't come back soon, I won't rub your p.u.s.s.y while you jerk me off standing on a f.u.c.king porch. We'll be in my bed. You'll be fair game."

"It seems like I was fair game, anyway."

He smiled and knuckled her lips. "Not really. Besides, you're underestimating my cousin."

"What if I am? I've just betrayed him. Christopher doesn't know who to trust because whoever he trusts always seem to let him down." She lowered her lashes. "Like this. Me. Us. He deserves better than what I've done with you tonight."

Johnnie hugged her and sighed. "I know, Megan. Being in the club, though, we always shared girls."

"I've heard and seen more than I care to in the club," she admitted, then s.h.i.+fted her weight. "Do you really think I've underestimated him? That he'll return?"

He patted her hair. "Yes. Sooner or later. I can't guarantee what he'll say to you or want from you. Just remember-if you two end up together, this is our secret."

It wasn't as if she'd advertise she and Johnnie had m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.ed each other to o.r.g.a.s.m. Nor was it likely Christopher would care even if she did advertise it. Johnnie would only defend Christopher, so she nodded.

"I'm serious, Megs. If you like my pretty face attached to my head, you won't ever mention this to anyone."

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Now, you're being dramatic."

"And, now, you're underestimating not only Christopher but his wrath, too. He'd f.u.c.king kill me if he knew I seduced you."

Meggie shrugged, not believing the sentiment. 'It's our secret. Besides, you didn't seduce me without my partic.i.p.ation." She only wished the o.r.g.a.s.m she'd had had taken away the agony of Christopher's continued absence.

"All right, Megs," he said and gave her a soft kiss on her lips. "I'll see you tomorrow." With that, he backed away, went down the steps and soon disappeared into the darkness, leaving Meggie to dwell on her life until this point and wondering what her next move should be.

Chapter 23.

Christopher leaned his back against the headboard of his bed in his room at the clubhouse, drinking a beer and listening to Apologize by OneRepublic. That song, along with one of Megan's favorites, When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars, and Meant by Elizaveta-a favorite of Mortician-played on repeat. Regret rode him hard. He wished he'd never left Meggie at his mother's house. Several times, he thought of rejoining her. Then, he remembered his predicament caught him between a partial truth and the murder of her father, and he didn't have good answers for either, so he ignored her calls and stayed at the club. It was time well-spent. He checked inventory, and double-checked the books. He sent "gifts" to the police chief and extra money to the hospital for their pediatric ward for the kids to have an extra special holiday.

Business went on as usual. But he missed Megan and regretted not being with her to carry through on all they'd talked about. Everything at the Club was the same, except she wasn't there with him, and everything felt different without her.

All around him, Ellen, Kiera, and some of the other b.i.t.c.hes were decorating, planning a big meal but without Megan included, as she had been for Thanksgiving. It wasn't as if there were old ladies around, who the boys had to hide the wh.o.r.es from. If it wasn't for the b.i.t.c.hes who hung around, it'd just be a bunch of d.i.c.ks there for the holidays. When Christopher saw the Christmas tree in the main room, he winced, remembering what he'd promised Megan. He'd left her in Johnnie's hands, but, as the days pa.s.sed, he realized he'd made a mistake and hoped Johnnie hadn't seduced her yet. Megan was a light in Christopher's life, the s.h.i.+ning star he was doing his best to extinguish.

A knock sounded on his door.

"Come in," he called, grabbing his smokes from the table and lighting one as Kiera pushed the door open.

He blew out smoke through his nostrils and eyed her long legs in a tiny, frilled skirt and cropped tee. It was obvious she wore no bra.

She leaned against the closed door. "I figured since Meggie's gone, we could f.u.c.k."

Silent, Christopher took a drag of his cigarette, then gulped some beer. Kiera wouldn't move without him urging her forward. He could f.u.c.k Kiera, just like he swore to Megan he would. It's just that he couldn't really. He didn't want twenty-five-year-old p.u.s.s.y anymore. He wanted eighteen-year-old p.u.s.s.y and not just any eighteen-year-old p.u.s.s.y, but the one belonging to a beautiful little b.i.t.c.h who skirted the edges of bratdom.

"Ain't interested," he said.

Kiera's eyes widened. "Is she coming back?"

He shrugged, wanting to be with Megan more than anything. He prayed to G.o.d she'd come back. He prayed to G.o.d Johnnie hadn't touched her. After warning Johnnie to keep his hands to himself, he'd pushed her right into his cousin's arms. "We'll see. I ain't sure right now."

"Then-"

He squashed his cigarette. "Then, nothin'. I ain't gonna have her walkin' around here with you smilin' in her face, knowin' you f.u.c.ked me and would f.u.c.k me whenever she's gone."

She wrinkled her nose. "Isn't that what usually happens with old ladies?" she asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"Yeah. Don't make me a difference. It ain't happenin' to my old lady." No matter if she thought that was exactly what would happen. "Just go, Kiera. I have s.h.i.+t to work out in my head."

"I like Meggie," she said quietly. "She's a good girl. Don't seem like she's cut out to be an old lady, though. Especially your old lady. She's a real good girl."

"She's tougher than you think," he snapped, her words getting to the heart of the matter and playing on all his fears. Some of the same fears his mother had played on.

"You love her?"

He glowered at her, refusing to even entertain the notion. "Go."

Thank f.u.c.k. She left.

For the next three days, Christopher took care of club business, disappearing two of the f.u.c.kers who'd been with Snake that day at the mall when Meggie had gone with Ellen and Kiera. He had his boys see to a s.h.i.+pment while he collected the money. He met with the president of the club from the next town over, a.s.suring the man's allegiance against Snake and the other dissenters. Except for smoking Snake out of his pit, he'd gotten s.h.i.+t done, making it relatively safe to get Meggie back.

The wind whispered through the trees edging the cemetery, the breeze cool against Christopher's face. An arc of color-magenta, orange, purple, red-painted the evening sky, but a lone ray of sunlight burst through the coming dusk and glimmered off the black marble he faced.

He stared at the gold lettering."Big Joe" Joseph "Boss" Foy. A man amongst men.

Before he brought Megan, Christopher wanted to make sure everything would suit the man she'd loved. He'd never expected his emotions to well up, unfeeling motherf.u.c.ker that he was. He'd thought he'd want to p.i.s.s on the monument, not fall on his knees and howl with rage at the same time he begged forgiveness.

Heaving in a ragged breath, he traced the inscription. The date of Boss's birth. The date of the man's death.

"You motherf.u.c.ker," he snarled. "Why? Why you make me f.u.c.kin' do that to you?" A sob escaped him and everything knotted up inside of him. He hated Boss so much, but he loved him, too. Despite everything, the vileness of his last months, the jeopardy he'd put the club in, the way he'd let down Megan, Christopher loved Boss. He leaned his head against the headstone. No, not a headstone. Nothing so simple for Big Joe. Christopher had insisted he wanted to impress Megan, so he'd ordered an obelisk with a leaf top carving. It stood alone, on a small rise, towards the back of the cemetery. But, standing there, he knew he believed, somewhere deep inside himself, Boss deserved such a tribute. Or the man he'd once been.

Angry tears. Bitter tears. Tears of grief and guilt, sorrow and anguish. The water leaking from Christopher's eyes and raining down his cheeks contained so much welled-up feelings, he thought he might go mad, as hollow as the empty grave the obelisk rose above.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n you. You hear me, Joseph f.u.c.kin' Foy? G.o.d f.u.c.kin' d.a.m.n you. You turned into a f.u.c.kin', G.o.dd.a.m.n monster. You deserved puttin' down like a f.u.c.kin' dirty dog. But why me? Why you gotta make me do it? YOU HEAR ME, MOTHERf.u.c.kER?"

His yell echoed in the eerie silence, where only the trees, the sky, and the souls of all those buried there absorbed it. He drew in ragged breaths to calm himself, relieved as f.u.c.k he hadn't seen this for the first time when he brought Megan. Right now, Christopher couldn't be sure when he'd let her see this. She needed closure, needed to grieve, but, f.u.c.k, this brought his grief on.

He was such a selfish f.u.c.k, trash, like Zoann said. He'd gotten this to show Megan. To win brownie points with her, he guessed, hoping she'd somehow overlook the fact he'd killed her daddy. As if she'd ever forgive him if she found out. He couldn't stay away from her, though, needing her now more than ever.

"Megan's here," he blurted, not having the strength to be ashamed of his p.u.s.s.y-like behavior. He sniffled. "She's everythin' you always said and more. You'd be so f.u.c.kin' proud of your beautiful baby girl. I know you said she wasn't for me. Long time ago. Remember, Prez? When I asked you her name? You said don't worry about it cuz she ain't for you, a.s.shole." He laughed through his tears and thrust his fingers through his hair, agitated. "I tried to leave her alone. I swear I did. I even left her with John Boy. He's better than I can ever be for her. Motherf.u.c.ker has a heart and a soul. But, Prez, I can't let her go. I just can't. And she want me, too. She thinks I'm worth somethin'. Don't know why cuz she's smart as f.u.c.k, but the way she look at me...Prez, I'm gonna take good care of your baby girl. As long as she want me, I'm gonna lay the world at her feet. I'd kill for her and I'd die for her."

Christopher blinked away the last of his tears. He'd bring Megan here. One day. Now, he'd let this remain his secret. He'd forget this place to enjoy the rest of the holidays. With only ten days left to Christmas, he had one more order of business to see to in the morning, then he'd ride out, back to Megan, away from this. As he hurried to his Harley, he hoped Boss found the peace in death that had escaped him in life.

When Christopher walked into the boardroom the next morning, he sat at the head of the table, anxious to get this behind him. Digger, Mortician, and Val sat close to him as they discussed their plan of action. Christopher had decided Val would hang with Rack. He'd stick to that motherf.u.c.ker like a leech and Rack would let him, too, because everyone was going to think Val had gone over to Rack's side. In turn, Christopher hoped the ruse would get them closer to Snake.

At least, that was the plan. Patricia's words ate at him and he missed Megan with a fierceness he hadn't expected.

Mortician leaned back and folded his arms. "You hanging round for Christmas, bro?"

"Nope. Promised Megan we'd spend Christmas together."

The door swung open and Rack sauntered in, helmet held under his arms. He nodded to everyone and set the helmet on the table.

"Showtime," Val mumbled.

Christopher acknowledged the word with a thinning of his lips. Val was one of his best friends, but to pull this s.h.i.+t off, he'd have to focus on the here and now, not antic.i.p.ate seeing Megan again.

Rack's perpetual smirk deepened as he shoved his chair back and dropped into the seat at the end of the table.

Christopher didn't have to pretend to glare at Rack. He disliked the motherf.u.c.ker more and more with each pa.s.sing day. When he buried him, he'd burn his f.u.c.king cut, patches still attached. He didn't want anyone tainted by Rack's stink.

"Yo', Outlaw."

Christopher nodded. "Rack, I been needin' to talk to you about Boss-"

Right on cue, Val snorted. "Like you been f.u.c.king talking about him for months, Prez? You put Boss to ground to save your own f.u.c.king a.s.s. Case f.u.c.king closed."

Mortician and Digger frowned, s.h.i.+fted in their seats. Real discomfort hung in the room. Anything to do with Boss was a tough f.u.c.king topic.

Rack smiled nastily and nodded to Val. "Be sure you around when that little b.i.t.c.h he's f.u.c.king find out."

Just as predicted, Rack couldn't resist the jab.

Val sn.i.g.g.e.red. "I feel sorry for him to be honest. He's too p.u.s.s.y-whipped to get in her face and tell that b.i.t.c.h he killed her father."

Christopher gritted his teeth, reminding himself of the long-term goal and ignoring the nerve Val hit.

"Val, shut your f.u.c.kin' mouth before Outlaw shoves his foot up your a.s.s," Digger warned with a grimace.

"Outlaw?" Val echoed, eyes wide. "Who's Outlaw?"

Rack barked with laughter. "Spot on, Val. He ain't no f.u.c.king Outlaw no more."

Val smiled. "Sure isn't. Nowadays, he's Christopher."

A muscle ticked in Christopher's jaw. This ad-libbing s.h.i.+t was about to get a head f.u.c.king busted. Yeah, Val was goading him but he was going too f.u.c.king far by bringing Megan into this and enjoying himself too f.u.c.king much.

Rack leaned back, pulled out a smoke, and lit it. Christopher got his anger under control. He had a f.u.c.king goal to accomplish and he knew Val had to goad him enough to cause a big-seemingly-irreconcilable fight. As friends, Christopher had to overlook Val's taunts for the time being. If he flew off the handle too f.u.c.king quick, Rack would never believe it.

He glared at Rack and Val, reminding himself he couldn't see Megan for the first time in almost three weeks with bruised knuckles. "You two through bein' f.u.c.kin' comedians? We have some serious s.h.i.+t to discuss, so shut the f.u.c.k up so I can get to it."

Presumably, Rack wouldn't be interested in hearing about Boss. Everyone knew he resented Christopher for how things had gone down. But the man was silent, appearing to be waiting for Christopher to continue.