Misled. Part 20

"Christopher is my family," she interrupted.

Her brown eyes never wavered from Meggie's face. "He does things. He's done things." She huffed in a breath. "If they're discovered, it will affect everyone." Tears filled her eyes and she hugged herself. "You say he's your family but this life isn't for everyone. You have to be a strong man to face the decisions my son has faced and lived to tell. He's happier than I've ever seen him. You're good for him. Just promise me, you'll stand by his side no matter what."

Though unsettled by Patricia's fierceness, Megan nodded, sure in the knowledge she'd never turn her back on Christopher.

Patricia headed for the door. Hand on k.n.o.b, she asked, "do you cook?"

Finally, a decent topic. "Yes."

"Well, you're on vacation."

"I know," she said timidly. "But I-I'd like to cook a meal for Christopher. And you, of course," she added when Patricia bristled.

"My son is very particular about his food, Megan. About as particular as I am about my kitchen. I have your vow to stand by Christopher and you know where we stand with the cooking and my kitchen, dear. We'll get along fine as long as you remember this discussion."

Giving Meggie no chance to respond, Momzilla walked out of the room and closed the door quietly behind her.

Christopher watched his mom lead Meggie into the house, a breath away from choking the s.h.i.t out of Johnnie. For no reason other than the fact Megan liked him, and his cousin was the type of college- educated, intelligent a.s.shole Megan should have.

He turned to his bike to busy his hands with removing Megan's backpack from one of the saddlebags. "How's Iona?"

"Married and pregnant," Johnnie answered on a sigh.

The news startled Christopher out of his jealousy. "Not to you or by you."

"Nope. To some nerdy f.u.c.k." Johnnie shrugged. "If that's what she wants, I'm happy for her."

His cousin had turned nomad three years ago to please his girlfriend, a beautiful, quiet girl who had turned Johnnie's head the moment he'd met her. She hadn't wanted him in the club, so he'd limited his time there, backing away completely with Boss's shenanigans. Though it worked out in the long run-Johnnie now managed the legitimate business they used to launder money-he still hadn't gotten the girl he'd wanted.

He gripped the strap of the backpack and faced Johnnie. "Stay away from Megan."

A slow grin spread across Johnnie's features. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offered one to Christopher then lit both of them. "Aunt Patricia invited me over for dinner," he explained on a whiff of smoke that the ocean breeze caught and carried away. "Since you were coming to town."

"You and me, we always been close," Christopher began, gesturing with the hand that held the cigarette between two fingers. "We gonna be cool as long as you don't f.u.c.k with Megan."

Unruffled, Johnnie clapped Christopher on the back. "Relax. Megs-"

"Don't f.u.c.kin' call her that!"

He laughed and Christopher knew Johnnie was yanking his chains.

"Come on, a.s.shole. Time to go inside," Christopher ordered, not bothering to see if Johnnie followed.

When he walked into the house, sunlight streamed in all directions from the numerous windows in the open floor plan. The hardwood floors gleamed and everything smelled fresh and clean. Across the room, Christopher saw the dunes beyond the deck, the foamy Pacific crashing onto the sand.

If anyone, he had Boss to thank for this house. He'd gone along with Christopher's idea to begin the hydrogrow operation. Instead of moving herb, they grew it inside one of the warehouses on club property. That first year had surpa.s.sed everyone's expectations and Christopher immediately purchased the medical lab. He needed a legitimate front to make major purchases. f.u.c.king cops might've looked the other f.u.c.king way thanks to payoffs, but the Feds wouldn't be so easy. Boss hadn't complained. He knew how much Christopher wanted a house of his own. He knew, too, that Christopher wouldn't shirk his duties to the club or forget about the Dwellers' collaborative interests and other businesses they worked at to "earn" money.

If it hadn't been for Big Joe's mentoring and his support behind Christopher...he didn't finish and, instead, wanted to throw up. He rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"Outlaw," Johnnie called. He held out a beer. "Go see about your woman. Aunt Patricia said she went to take a bath. Maybe, she needs her back scrubbed or something."

Grabbing the beer, Christopher forced his thoughts away and nodded, glad Meggie remained upstairs. He was pretty sure she needed something and that something was already rising in his pants.

Just as he started upstairs, his mother was starting down.

"Megan is getting settled, son," she said briskly, pushing her sleeves above her elbows. "Give her a chance to do what girls do after they've ridden on the back of a bike for hours."

Christopher gripped his beer tighter. "C'mon, Ma. Megan won't mind if I'm in there."

She squeezed past him. "Follow me. I need to talk to you."

Speechless, he stared at his mother's retreating back and emptied the bottle of beer in one, long swig. His very own mother was c.o.c.k-blocking. Stomping through the great room, past a very amused Johnnie-whom Christopher flipped off-he allowed his mother to lead him to the sun room. Enclosed in gla.s.s, the yellow and white decor reminded him of Patricia. He disposed of the bottle in the wicker trash can and stuffed his hands in his pockets, gazing at the three-tiered shelf of pictures. She had photos of her parents, the girls' father, him and his sisters as well as Big Joe, Val, Mortician, and Digger. He'd need to add Megan's photo to the collection. Speaking of Megan, she'd probably like this room, too. Beach gra.s.s broke out from the high rise of the dunes. On a quiet day, the roar of the ocean slipped through the gla.s.s, filling the room with the sounds of nature.

Shadows haunted his mother's eyes. "Big Joe's daughter."

Those three words fell like stones between them and Christopher's eyes widened. "Ma, what-"

"You killed him. You killed her father. How long do you think she'll stick around when she discovers his blood on your hands?"

No. No. NO! Christopher wasn't prepared for this. The anger and condemnation in his mother's eyes almost killed him. This was why he'd stayed away. He hadn't been able to face her, knowing what he'd done to Joseph Foy. In a life filled with hurting the people who meant the most to him just by being conceived, he hadn't been able to face Patricia with Boss's blood on his hands. He'd grieved for the man well before he'd had to make that fateful decision. Now, that grief came back, worse, almost bringing him to his knees. The pain of what had been was nothing compared to the pain of what could've been, what would never be because he'd killed Megan's father.

He held out his hands. "It was me or him." His throat worked and he willed his mother to believe him. He didn't know how she'd found out. She didn't know anyone from the club, other than Boss, Val, Digger and Mortician. Christopher had moved her out of her small house in Hortensia to his house here to keep her safe when things had gotten bad with Boss and the rival clubs.

She came and squeezed her arms around him, almost like she never wanted to let him go, and sobbed against his chest. Christopher just stood there, not returning her hug, staring straight ahead, until she settled down and got control of herself again.

She roamed away from him, faced the windows. "Megan's young. She doesn't know about your world. Boss's world."

He hadn't thought his mother knew about "his" world, either. Not as much as she sounded like she did.

"She'll hate you," she continued.

All the joy he'd felt this past week vanished. Even that shopping bulls.h.i.t with Megan felt good because of the smile it put on her face. She was happy so he was happy. Now, that was gone and he didn't think he'd ever get it back again.

"I was told she went to the club searching for her father."

Although that wasn't a secret, whoever was pa.s.sing information on to his mother had been f.u.c.king thorough. "Yeah. So what?"

"Her stepfather abuses her. Basically, she's homeless."

Christopher drew in a sharp breath, his stupid dream of having Megan by his side in the future already f.u.c.ked. Fury settled into him and he was so f.u.c.king sorry he'd driven to this motherf.u.c.ker he wanted to kick something. "She ain't homeless," he snapped. "She's livin' at the club with me."

His mother faced him and drew herself up. "Do you think she's with you because she wants to be with you?" she asked quietly, sniffling. "Or because she has nowhere else to go? Why would this young girl, with her entire life ahead of her, fall in love with a man who lives on the fringe elements of society, son?"

"What are you tryin' to do here?" Christopher shouted, her words. .h.i.tting him right in the f.u.c.king gut. All his life, he hadn't believed he was worthy of anybody's love. All his life, his mother had sworn he deserved love as much as anybody. Now that he'd gotten the closest he ever had to finding it, she pointed out what he'd known all along. "You ain't got a fu...d.a.m.n right to question her. Or me. We're both adults, Ma. We do what the f.u.c.k we want. If she's usin' me cuz I ain't worthy to love that's my f.u.c.kin' business if I want her to use me." His lip curled in a sneer. "As if I give a f.u.c.k. I got more b.i.t.c.hes than I know what to do with." Turning, he stalked to the door and slammed it behind him. When he reached the great room, Johnnie had left.

He only hoped Meggie had remained upstairs while he and his mother had gotten into their argument.

Instead of the happy occasion Christopher imagined, tension hung over dinner, later that evening, preventing any conversation. He couldn't take this f.u.c.king s.h.i.t. Tomorrow couldn't arrive soon enough. At sunrise, he was. .h.i.tting the road, going back to the club. He wouldn't even tell Megan-he didn't owe her any explanation. His mother was right. Once she discovered the truth, she'd hate him.

However, as much as he wanted to ignore Megan, he couldn't. Not when she was observing him through her lashes and sneaking glances at Johnnie. A muscle ticked in Christopher's jaw and he felt as if he'd explode any moment. He'd stormed upstairs earlier and found Meggie asleep, so he'd taken a walk along the dunes, watching the ocean, wishing the water could cleanse the dirtiness of his life.

A spoon clanked and Christopher glared in his mother's direction. She was usually so friendly and warm. Understandable, she wouldn't be so loving toward him, the blight on everyone's lives, but why not chat with Megan? Even Johnnie, always so ready with a joke, kept silent.

Heaving a sigh, looking as miserable as Christopher felt, Megan moved a piece of baked fish around her plate. She'd barely eaten anything. Concerned that maybe she'd heard something, he leaned over and tipped her chin up.

"I've never known you to be so quiet, babe. What's runnin' through your head?"

Megan faked a smile and stabbed a piece of fish then shoved it into her mouth. "Nothing."

"She's probably still tired," Patricia offered with a sigh.

Instead of acknowledging his mother, Megan stiffened.

f.u.c.k him, his mother had said something to p.i.s.s Megan off with her, not him.

"Tell us a little about yourself," she continued with a weak smile. "What high school did you graduate from? What are your career plans?"

Megan threw his mother the evil eye. "I didn't graduate," she mumbled.

"What?" Christopher asked, surprised.

Megan shrugged. "I was supposed to graduate in the spring."

s.h.i.t. What could he say? Any words he spoke would be hypocritical, since he hadn't graduated from high school, either.

Patricia glanced between them. "You're welcomed to stay here with me, Megan. I know Zoann made a similar offer and you refused because she wanted you and Christopher to sever contact." She turned pleading eyes to Christopher before focusing on Megan again. "Don't hate me, but my condition is the same. I think it's for the best."

High color rose in Megan's cheeks and she narrowed her eyes at his mother. "Thank you, Ms. Donovan, but I have to decline. If you-or Zoann-really wanted to help me, you wouldn't ask me to stay away from Christopher in exchange for your help."

"Megan, maybe, we need to talk about this," Christopher said. "You're too smart not to graduate from high school and go to college. Big Joe..." His voice trailed off when his mother raised her eyebrows. He cleared his throat. "Big Joe said you wanted to be a meteorologist. You need college for that. Don't let me or no man stop your dreams." Especially him. He rubbed at hand over his face at the bleak thought.

Megan slid her chair back and jumped to her feet, leveling him with her own glare. She shook with anger and Christopher knew it wasn't only this conversation. No, Megan had a bad f.u.c.king little temper, and if his mother p.i.s.sed her off earlier, and she hadn't said anything, this was like a ripple effect.

"I'll go back to school. Either online for my GED or to the school in Hortensia. As for college, I'll decide that next summer. But this isn't a conversation that's anyone's business but yours and mine." If looks could kill, he'd be so f.u.c.ked. "I thought this would be a happy visit. Family. Food. Getting to know one another. If it's going to be like this"-She spun her finger around. No one needed to ask what this was because this was s.h.i.t. "-then I want to go back to the clubhouse."

"Megan-" Patricia began, her eyes wide.

Megan raised her hands. "No, ma'am. Please save whatever you have to say. I didn't come here seeking your approval to be with Christopher or your judgment because I haven't finished school." Folding her arms, she stiffened her spine and raised her chin, staring directly into Patricia's eyes. "Being his lover is my decision, not yours. I'm sorry the visit has turned out like this. I was really looking forward to getting to know you." She stomped toward the door. "Goodnight," she flung over her shoulder.

"That went well," Patricia muttered.

"You've had five girls, Aunt Patricia," Johnnie said, after he finished watching Megan's little a.s.s wiggling in her skinny pants, her long, golden hair fluttering behind her. "s.e.x, men, and advice don't necessarily mix with young women."

Patricia's lashes lowered and she looked tired and drawn, much older than her forty-seven years. "Do you think she'll listen to me?"

"She probably ain't if you gonna repeat your offer. I think Megan should finish school, too, but if she's pushed against a wall, she fights back."

She leaned and rubbed his cheek. "I was out of line, Christopher," she whispered. "For everything. Forgive me?"

He bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile, the words from earlier still replaying in his head. But Patricia was his mother and, despite how much their conversation hurt him, he loved her. "Anytime, Ma," he said gruffly. "Always."

Chapter 21.

After two in the morning, Christopher shuffled the tiles in the boneyard, the smoke from his and Johnnie's cigarettes resting in the ashtray rising between them. He hadn't seen Megan since she'd stormed from the dinner table. It'd been a long day, but he was restless, angry, and frustrated. He could imagine Megan upstairs in his bed, waiting to take him into that tight p.u.s.s.y of hers, wanting his mouth on her. Needing to talk to him about his mother's att.i.tude. But he stayed down here, hiding from her, like he'd hidden from his mother for a year.

A f.u.c.king lot of good that'd done him. She'd still found out he'd killed Boss.

Christopher scowled, threw back his shot of tequila, then chased it with a long swig of beer. His restlessness wasn't the usual sort. He wasn't longing for different p.u.s.s.y. Megan liked f.u.c.king and was willing to try whatever he wanted. Her body was his to do with as he saw fit. On the other side of that, his body was hers to explore, touch, learn, and use.

Yeah, he missed the club. But he missed the way it had been when everyone had each other's backs. When friend was friend and foe was foe.

"You planning on drawing your tiles, bro? Or are you gonna f.u.c.king stare off in s.p.a.ce all night?"

Christopher glowered at Johnnie. "f.u.c.k off," he barked. He drew his allotted number of dominoes and reached for the tequila.

Johnnie leaned back, his bare chest annoying as f.u.c.k. It didn't have as much evidence of their lifestyle as Christopher's bare chest. He was only glad Megan was asleep. Johnnie, the sly f.u.c.ker, sensed Megan's...what the f.u.c.k ever...with him, so he'd drank enough where he'd had no choice but to sleep over. Lying motherf.u.c.ker. He lived right up the road. He could've walked the f.u.c.k home.

The thought of Johnnie touching Megan drove Christopher f.u.c.king insane. But his mother had made a very valid point. Megan had nowhere else to go. She gave him p.u.s.s.y because she knew that's what he expected from her to continue to sleep in his bed. The little b.i.t.c.h didn't know s.h.i.t about f.u.c.king working at a job. She needed him rather than wanted him. But with Johnnie...with Johnnie she had a choice. Even when he'd been a full member in the club, Johnnie was smoother than Christopher. Johnnie, with his light blond hair and light gray eyes, could pa.s.s for your ordinary everyday angel. Christopher, on the other hand, had blue-black hair and green eyes, a devil amongst men.

He chugged the tequila and laid down a 5-4.

"Talk to me, Christopher."

"Whatcha want me to say?"

"What has you so upset and distracted?"

Christopher scrubbed a hand over his eyes. Another idea came to him. "Think I should turn in my patch?"

Johnnie didn't laugh or judge him or even seem surprised. He c.o.c.ked his head to the side. "Because of Megs?"

Unless Christopher knocked Johnnie's teeth out, the a.s.shole wouldn't stop calling Megan "Megs".

"Yeah."

"She know?"

Christopher shook his head.

"So this wasn't her request?"