Misled (6 page)

So what did that make Big Joe? Christopher?

“Fuckin’ talk to me,” he demanded.

She shook her head, feeling wretched to her soul.

He released her arms and studied her. She wanted to crawl somewhere and never come out again.

“Your mother know you injure yourself?”

“No,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. A question was easier to answer than stringing together words about her impetus.

“How long?”

“T-two years.” After the last time they’d run away and Thomas found her and beat her and her mother so terribly. “I called Daddy and he never came. He always came. Always,” she said, wanting to lean into this big, strong man and know she’d be safe.

He backed away from her. “Jesus.”

One word. So much meaning in it. Regret. Annoyance. Anger.

He rubbed his eyes and stretc
hed out next to her again, as if he were unsure if he wanted her close to him. “Who worked you over?”

H
is sudden change of subject left her reeling, though she acknowledged her relief he’d stopped questioning her about what she did to herself. But he went from one uncomfortable topic to one equally as provocative. Her brain searched for an answer to satisfy all parties concerned. If she told the truth, she didn’t know what the consequences would be. He mightn’t believe Rack’s capability of such violence. “Who’s here?” She had to know. Because if he did believe her and confronted Rack…Meggie shivered at the thought. “H-has my father returned, by any chance?”

“No
.”

Her father seemed to be a sore spot with Christopher. “Christopher,” she blurted to test how his name sounded on her lips.
A strong name for a strong man.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, feeling like an idiot for just wanting to say his Christian name. “Um, who’s here?”

Christopher contemplated her and Meggie squirmed against the hard length of his body. Awareness of how little she wore seeped into her and her entire body flushed. She wriggled and he tightened his grip on her.

“Would you keep fuckin’ still?” he growled.

“I-I’ve never
had the choice to be so close to a man like you in bed before.” She felt as breathless as she sounded. His erection pressed into her belly and she rubbed against him. Her nipples ached.

“One more time, Megan,” he snapped through gritted teeth. “You have one
more time to wiggle against my dick.
One more
,” he repeated, like she was some type of moron. “You move again and I’m fuckin’ you.”

“Umkay.” Meggie’s feminine core burned with heat and she felt her body slickening. If she moved again, she
was
a moron but the idea of making love to him sent her hormones into overdrive. He seemed so sexual and so sure of himself. “Will you fit inside me?”

“Motherfucker.” He shoved her away and jumped out of the bed. He thrust a hand through his hair and glared at her. “You lookin’ to get fucked, little girl?”

“No. Yes. I-I don’t know.”

He paced for a minute before lighting a cigarette. “You ain’t been fucked before.”

He almost made it sound like an accusation. She wished she hadn’t been worked over so she could return his glare. She stared at the ceiling, preferring to be
fucked
on her terms rather than her stepfather’s. “And?”

“Who the fuck hit you?”

“You’re not going to answer me?”

“My answer would be relievin’
you of your virginity.”

At least, her virginity would be relieved with someone she wanted.

“And that ain’t a fuckin’ answer at all,” he went on.

“Are you sure you’re a biker? You can be really sweet and considerate.”

Somehow, her observation insulted him. He stiffened. “I ain’t no pussy, Megan.”

“I didn’t mean—“

“I just got sisters, nieces, and, most of all, a mother.”

“Christopher—“

He kicked the chair against the wall and she jumped, unable to stop her cry of fear. She shielded her head.

“Stop callin’
me that!” He lit another cigarette and Meggie decided it helped to calm him. “I ain’t takin’ your pussy. Case fuckin’ closed.” He drew in deep breaths and changed the subject. “Tell me in your words why Rack worked you over like this? What did he say?”

“You know?”

“Contrary to what girly bullshit you have in your head about me, I live a hard, fast life. If I don’t know motherfuckers, I end up with a real fuckin’ knife in my back.”

Her stomach sank
along with her mood. “You think that’s what happened to my daddy?” she managed, envisioning her father in a situation where someone close to him had put a real knife in his back. She trembled and tears rushed to her eyes. She was just a wreck.

“Stick to one motherfuckin’ subject at a time. You jumpin’ from one conversation to the next and we ain’t finished a-fuckin-one. Why did Rack—“

“Do you think—“

“I don’t have time to fuckin’ run through scenes about why your old man ain’t here. He’ll either turn up
or he won’t and you’ll know.”

“And I’ll know,” she echoed
on a sob.

“Fuck, Megan. Don’t cry.”

The bed dipped again and the warmth of his nearness enveloped her. She sniffled, trying to control her tears but her confusion, fear, and pain made it difficult. She had no one. No matter how safe Christopher…Outlaw…
him
…no matter how he made her feel, he didn’t even want her to say his name in any of its forms. She’d never felt overwhelming sexual desire before, but she knew she wanted to be in his bed. Not that he cared what she wanted. Besides being cranky and disagreeable, he didn’t like her.

He gathered her in his arms and she buried her nose in the crook of his neck, sobbing harder.

Outlaw gritted his teeth against the feel of Megan in his arms and the sounds of her sobs. His dick throbbed and his tight balls ached. Fuck his conscience for beating him to a pulp. No matter how fucked up his past, he just couldn’t bring himself to do anything to hurt this girl. Boss’s daughter. Her presence should’ve had him jumping for fucking glee as another means to exact further revenge on the man who’d turned his life up-fuckin-side down. However, he wasn’t that much of a dumb fuck. Fuckhead Foy was dead, so using his daughter for more revenge wouldn’t do nobody a whole fucking lot of good. It wasn’t like he was around to know and Outlaw knew Snake wouldn’t care since he’d known fuck-all about her existence.

Megan
’s fucking youth and innocence awakened a restless energy within him. The way she said his name made him want to hear her say it while he moved deep inside of her. It made him remember how it felt to be called by the name his mother had gifted him with. She and his sisters were the only ones who called him ‘Christopher’. His grandparents had called him everything but a child of God, a fact he tried hard to forget.

Something he’d never shared with anyone but Boss and his cousin, Johnnie. And, now, Megan.
Fuck, he’d wanted her to know he wasn’t worth the time of day. He certainly wasn’t worth the way she looked at him. As beautiful and as smart as Boss always said his girl was, if Outlaw wasn’t careful,
he’d
be the motherfucker Megan drove insane.

He didn’t want anyone to hurt her, including herself. He didn’t know much about self-injury, other than remembering one of the whores who came through the club did it.

“
You wanna fuckin’ die, you stupid slut?”

Outlaw couldn’t believe the wild light in Boss’
s eyes, directed at a woman who clearly needed kindness. He might not have understood why she was naked in the middle of Boss’s bed, holding a razor blade dripping with her own blood from the fresh cuts on her breasts and belly. They weren’t deep and he knew what she’d done because she’d once done it when she was with him. He’d smoked. She’d sliced.

“Lemme take care of this bitch for you,” he offered. His heart pounded in his chest, hurt at how far gone Boss
was. The man had been like a father to Outlaw and, now, drugs was eating Boss alive, taking his soul and all the compassion he’d ever had in him.

Whatever else the Death Dwellers might be accused of, physically harming women wasn’t it. Boss kicked the shit out of any of the boys who hurt a woman. If it happened on the down low and Boss never found out about it, then fine.

“Get the fuck outta here, Outlaw. I don’t need your fuckin’ help with this whore.”

“You need to sleep it off, Prez. I promise you, I’ll take Summer out your way and give her a good talkin’ to.”

Outlaw glanced at the girl, frozen in horror at being caught and because Prez slid deeper into the pit of hell with each passing day, where no one escaped his drug-fueled wrath. Outlaw, Rack, or Snake barely reached him anymore.

“You fuckin’ her?
That’s why you wanna get her the fuck outta here?”

Not anymore.
Not that Outlaw would mention that or remind Boss most of the boys in the club had tapped Summer’s pussy. Outlaw wanted to see another sunrise. He wanted to find a way to help his idol and mentor.

Raising his hands, he edged toward Summer, not wanting to play on B
oss’s paranoia. His dilated eyes watched Outlaw. He’d lost a shitload of weight. He barely ate or slept. Outlaw covered for him, having to take over most of his duties. Though Outlaw and Snake danced around each other, they’d bonded for the common cause. The two of them, along with Rack, shielded their Prez, but it had to stop. He had to come back to himself.

Slowly, Outlaw sat on the bed, feeling
the weight of that intense stare. He wanted to look, make sure he wasn’t pulling his piece to blow Outlaw the fuck away, but the man would take even that as a challenge.

Outlaw reached over and grabbed the razor blade from Summer’s trembling fingers. He did it quick. He wanted to do it all quick. Grab her and run the fuck away until…when
Boss returned…FUCK…would Boss ever be normal again? Did the man even want to be? Grasping Summer’s arm, he dragged her to his lap.

“She’s scared, Prez. I’m just doin’ the same thing you’d want somebody to do for your girl.”

Boss’s eyes lit up. For a moment, Outlaw glimpsed his old hero, the one who put his daughter up on a pedestal. “My beautiful girl. What’s her name? I can’t remember her name. Her beautiful face. It’s all gone.” He chewed on his lip, his eyes filling with tears, and covered his face with his hands. All too briefly. He lowered them again and stepped forward. Tears tracked his gaunt cheeks, but pure hatred filled his eyes.

Risking his own life, Outlaw stood with Summer in his arms. He’d never felt a girl tremble with so much fear. He wanted to reassure her, tell her he’d get her out of here. But
, then, Boss stepped in front of Outlaw, blocking his path and pulling his blade out of his boot. Before Outlaw could beg for Summer’s life, beg for Boss to remember his code, he’d slit her throat. As Outlaw held her. Blood poured from her and, if he moved his hand, her head might fall off with the deep, ear-to-ear slit.

Boss backed away, threw his knife on the bed. “Now take her the
fuck away,” he ordered and stormed out of the room.

Jesus Christ. Megan cried
for
that
man. Outlaw had known Boss’s treatment of those girls, but he’d never had to physically clean up after one of his rampages. He’d see Digger’s and Mortician’s haunted eyes, watch them lose themselves in women, weed, and booze. Wonder how they could do what they did to get rid of those women’s bodies on behalf of Boss. Then, he’d done it. Because he’d loved that motherfucker. Because he’d wanted Boss. Wanted the stupid fucker to recognize he had people in his corner. People who loved and needed him and would do anything for him.

Then, a few weeks later, he’d put Outlaw in that same position. Only this time, Outlaw had flat out denied him.

“I ain’t buryin’ no more girls, Prez, and you ain’t killin’ no more either.”

They were in the meeting room and Boss’d just called Outlaw out to go get the bitch from his bedroom for entertainment before disposing of her like they did Summer.