Chapter Twenty

Rory gazed at his father’s desk in their library, remembering all the times he’d come home and found Dad, sitting in the big executive chair behind it, especially on weekends when he brought work home with him.

Rory could still remember sitting under the desk while Dad met with Aunt Meggie and Aunt Zoann. It was to restructure the contract between the medical lab that Dad ran and Uncle Christopher owned and his aunts’ home healthcare business.

That had been a good day. Mom was there too, overseeing the legalities. Diesel was fresh out of law school, Mom’s mentee, so she’d invited him to sit and listen, even though it had been decided he’d practice criminal defense.

Brooks had begun to speak of retirement, so of course the club would need a replacement. Mom concentrated on corporate law nowadays, although she too had been a defense attorney once upon a time.

Walking to the bar that held his parents’ expensive alcohol, Rory picked up the whisky decanter. He opened it and sniffed. Missing Dad.

“Do you want a drink?”

Rory jerked at his mother’s question, returned the decanter to the bar and sealed it again. He turned.

She stood in the doorway, her hair clipped up, wearing a ridiculously expensive nightgown that bared her arms, neck, and most of her chest. For the past five days, she’d moped in her room.

Rory refused to go to school. Once Mattie and JJ got home from school, he always went to the club to visit Dad with express instructions to not leave Mom alone for more than ten or fifteen minutes. Rory checked on her religiously.

She padded to him, grabbed two glasses, then poured a finger of Dad’s whisky in each. She picked up hers and nodded to the one still on the bar. “Drink. It’s yours.” She took a sip and closed her eyes. “So good.” Opening her eyes, she gave Rory a sad smile. “Your father does have good taste,” she said with a sigh. “How is he?”

“He’s Dad.” She’d understand.

“Angry.”

He nodded.

She sipped more whisky. “I hate that I love him so much.”

Rory could relate. Dad was decidedly unlovable most of the time.

“But I do.” Tears pooled in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. “I don’t want to divorce him.” She swiped at her cheeks. “How can I stay with him when he intended to hit your sister?”

“You protected her, Mom,” Rory said gently, eyeing the glass that beckoned to him like a beacon on a stormy day. “He’ll think twice about raising his hand to her again.”

He wasn’t sure what Mom needed from him. Was it his approval to allow his father back into the house? Was it advice?

“I’m also investigating Bash.”

Rory snapped his brows together. “Who—?”

“Don’t, son. I know you went to Utah with Johnnie and Ryan.”

“I can explain.”

Mom drained her glass. He couldn’t remember if she’d eaten today. She poured herself another finger.

“I don’t want your explanations, Rory. I want your help.”

That was the last thing he expected.

Turning on her heel, she sailed to Dad’s desk and set her glass aside. After taking a letter opener from the middle drawer, she jimmied the lock on the file drawer and slid it open.

Shocked, Rory looked on in silence. His mother was always so reserved. Except when Aunt Meggie or Lolly got her to dance. The other times, she was elegant and polished, except when Dad pushed her over the edge. Rory expected insane behavior from her. Such as demanding they all undress.

He didn’t expect criminal behavior.

Leaning over, she rifled through files. Rory kept his gaze on the top of her head. He thought about finding a robe or a sweater, so her breasts wouldn’t almost fall out of the nightgown, but she might not even put it on. Then, he would’ve embarrassed both of them. No, it was better for him to feel uncomfortable than her. She was suffering enough.

“Fuck, I forgot my glasses,” she mumbled, yanking a file into her hands and straightening. “I need you to take all the files from this locked drawer to my office and copy them for me.”

“This is club business. Uncle Christopher—”

“Knows,” she interrupted. “He’s given me a few days to try to figure out the mess your father has gotten himself into.” She made a face. “As well as your aunt Meggie.”

“It’s only her.”

Mom set the file aside, bent, and got another one. When she straightened, she glanced at him and shook her head. “No, son. He killed three of his own brothers at that motherfucker’s orders. Johnnie is in deep shit.” Huffing out of breath, she threw the folder aside. “How can a man supposedly so smart be so goddamn dumb?”

Rory gaped at his mother, not knowing what to say. The deaths of the three Dwellers wasn’t common knowledge. He hadn’t even heard talk of it at the clubhouse, so he suspected the mother chapter hadn’t received word.

“How’d you find out about their deaths?”

“I made a few calls.”

Alarm raced through Rory. “Do not fuck around with Bash. He’s evil Uncle Christopher. He will kill you.”

“Hopefully, not. I’m not looking to die. I’m looking to save that stupid motherfucker.”

“Dad?”

“Do you know of any other stupid motherfucker?”

“Ryan.”

Mom laughed, a truly amused sound that warmed his heart. He smiled. “Touché.”

“I don’t know why Uncle Christopher would ask you—”

“He didn’t. I volunteered.” She grabbed another file. “I want to kill Johnnie, but I don’t want him dead.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind.” She set the file aside, paused for another sip of her whisky, and looked at Rory. “After you copy the files, return the originals to your father’s desk. Lock it back as if it was never disturbed. I want you to record everything you remember from that meeting.”

Other than the fact that he was so scared his father wouldn’t make it out alive, Rory could barely recall anything else. But he’d try.

“Meggie told me CJ is returning to school on Monday. You will, too.”

“You’re inviting Dad back home over the weekend?”

“I have to talk to him to invite him anywhere. Even hell.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand, son. What do you mean?”

“I can’t leave you, Mom. I…suppose…I…”

She stared at him, then her look softened. “Oh, my darling. My darling, darling Rory.” Abandoning the files, she ran and hugged him, then kissed his cheek and grabbed his forearms. “When Johnnie disappeared a few weeks ago, I fell apart. I didn’t know why. I just knew something very bad was going on. But I haven’t been moping because of him. I’m heartbroken on Mattie’s behalf. For what I allowed. I’m scared for Meggie. I’m so very proud of you, son. I need your help. The club needs your help. CJ needs—”

“CJ? What’s wrong with him?”

“Do you know the Byrd brothers?”

Rory snorted. “Who doesn’t know those two buffoons?”

“They aren’t Byrds. They are Barts. Outlaw wants CJ to watch them and report back to him.”

“Uncle Christopher’s giving CJ a real club job?” Rory whispered in awe.

Mom nodded, gave him one last hug, and backed away. “I know you two have grown apart, but I think he’ll need help. If he doesn’t confide in you, don’t hold it against him. Outlaw told him to keep it a secret. Yet, be his eyes and ears. If he does confide in you, then strategize together.”

“You know they’re Ryan’s friends.”

“I know,” Mom said grimly.

He wondered if she knew about how Wallace had hurt Mattie.

She turned back to the desk. “I have some other business to attend to tomorrow, so if you can help sort the files. I want contracts in one pile. Receipts in another. Personal letters in another. Wills and deeds in a fourth, and one for miscellaneous.”

“What do you have to do? Mom, if it’s something to do with Bash again—”

“I have to call CPS.”

“You’re reporting Aunt Bailey and Lolly?” Rory asked with a frown.

“Are you insane? Harley got exactly what she deserved. No, I’m reporting Torie.”

“Torie-Torie? Like nurse Torie?”

“Like bitch Torie. She made the mistake of texting me for more money.” Mom wagged a finger at him. “Do not tell anyone. I don’t want it to get to your uncles.”

“They won’t care what happens to her.”

“We’ll see. Just keep this between us, please.”

“MOM!” JJ called, a moment before he barreled into the room and skidded to a halt. “Hey, Ro,” he said, then went and hugged Mom.

She kissed the top of his head. “Hello, my darling. How was school?”

“It was okay,” he said glumly. “I still wish I could stay home like Rory.”

Before Mom answered, Mattie walked in. She hadn’t been eating or sleeping. Her hair was limp and there were rings around her eyes. “I failed my math test,” she said, hanging her head.

Mom walked to her and wrapped her arms around Mattie. “There are worst things, my love.”

Mattie nodded and hiccupped. She was crying again.

“I think you and JJ should stay home until Monday,” Mom whispered, tangling her fingers through Mattie’s hair.

“Really, Momma?” Mattie sniffled.

“Yeah!” JJ yelled, pumping his fists in the air, and running from the room, shouting to their nanny, “Ella! Guess what?”

Mattie pulled out of Mom’s embrace and twisted her hands together. “Do you think Daddy will talk to me by then?”

Mom cocked her head to the side. “Your father hasn’t spoken to you?”

“No,” Mattie said around a sob. “And he’s talked to JJ and Blade, but he won’t take my calls. He won’t even text me back.”

A red hue traveled up Mom’s neck and into her face, stealing the warmth from her eyes. “I see.” She folded her arms and pasted a smile on her face. “Why don’t you take a nice, long bubble bath, Mattie? In my Jacuzzi tub? Use some of my Parisienne oil.”

Mattie turned and trudged away.

“Don’t forget the spa music, darling,” Mom called.

“Okay,” Mattie said, and walked out of the room.

“That motherfucker just does not fucking learn,” Mom snarled, and stormed away.

Stewing in anger and resentment, John “Johnnie” Donovan stared at the ceiling in yet another room at the clubhouse as he recovered from yet more injuries that re-inflamed the bullet wound.

He was furious at his circumstances and livid at his wife, niece and daughter. Kendall actually raised her fucking hands to him. Not only that, she hadn’t attempted to help him when Rebel attacked because Megan interfered in a matter between him and his daughter.

As for Mattie, he couldn’t begin to express his disgust and disappointment at her behavior. It made him feel as if he’d failed as a father and as a man. Girls…women…like her were the one Bash targeted. The whores, who didn’t respect themselves enough to keep their legs closed.

To think, Kendall seemed okay with the fact that their daughter was a fucking slut. How dare she? How could she?

Johnnie wouldn’t ever look at Matilda the same. Which was why he refused her calls and didn’t respond to her texts. First, typing a message was almost impossible with the amount of pain he was in after three ass beatings back to back to back.

Did he look like a fucking punching bag?

Second, what did she want from him now when she’d lied to him for months and pretended she was a little innocent virgin?

She’d fucking played him.

Third, when he’d awakened this morning, and went over the conversation he’d had with Ryan, he’d gotten even angrier. Ryan was jumping on the CJ bandwagon and showing Johnnie absolutely no respect.

Fuck both of them. He should have Tom bring Molly back, just to see his nephews duke it out. Nothing like a piece of pussy to add fuel to an already simmering fire. He had to remind them he was their uncle. They’d respect him, or else.

It was how Grandda controlled everyone…

His thoughts crashing to a halt, Johnnie frowned. Logan Donovan wasn’t a man he wanted to compare himself to. His grandfather had been arrogant, abusive, hateful, spiteful, misogynistic, racist, selfish, manipulative, condescending, and mean.

Fuck.

Zoann’s virginity and Christoper’s life had been collateral damage in his miserable schemes. CJ had been garbage. Kendall had been expendable. Mortician and Digger had been less than human. Johnnie had been his property. And K-P had been the biggest victim—skinned alive because he’d tried to protect Bailey, Megan, Roxanne, and Big Joe.

For the past four days Johnnie had been so furious with Kendall more than anyone. Not only because of the scene outside of the meatshack but also because of her refusal to go along with his plan. Her insistence that he looked for a way to get rid of Megan to finally have peace felt like a betrayal to him and the love he had for Kendall.

But who had more fucking right to say such a thing to him but Kendall?

Without warning, the door opened and the overhead light flipped on. Groaning, Johnnie lifted his head and glared at Axel as he marched in.

“I didn’t invite you in, young man,” Johnnie remarked, dropping his head against the pillow again.

“I didn’t ask to come in, Uncle Johnnie,” Axel replied. He was an adorable kid, if his brattiness could be overlooked.

It couldn’t. Not for Johnnie, anyway.

“As soon as I’m better, I’m beating your ass for the stunt you and your brothers pulled.”

Axel’s grin dimpled his cheeks. “Dad won’t let you. He didn’t punish us or nothing.” He walked to the edge of Johnnie’s bed. “Why won’t you sit up?”

“Because it fucking hurts.”

Axel walked to the other side of the double bed and climbed next to Johnnie. “Here, I can put more pillows behind you so you can stop staring at the ceiling. Rule used to do that a lot whenever we were all together and pretend Ryan wasn’t upsetting him. We don’t need you hearing voices and talking to angels.”

Johnnie covered his amusement with a scowl. He lifted his head to glare at the kid. Axel’s face screwed into a glower.

“I got something to tell you, Uncle Johnnie, but if you don’t look at me nicer, I’m leaving and taking my secrets to my fucking grave.”

“Of which you will see shortly if you don’t talk to me with respect,” Johnnie snapped.

“Man to man? Fuck you. I don’t got to respect you. You don’t like Mom. And if a motherfucker don’t like my momma, that motherfucker don’t get my respect.”

“You’re not a man.”

“I got a cock.”

“The conversation is done, mister,” Johnnie said forcefully in a tone that always worked with his children. “One more word and you have timeout and another spanking in addition to the one that’s coming to you.”

“You’re a small fry, man. Once Outlaw’s beat your ass, ain’t no other motherfucker can compare.” The covers rustled as he scooted away. “But since you don’t want my information, I’m leaving you flat on your fucking back and staring at the ceiling. Maybe you’ll find an ant to keep you company since everybody else is done with you cuz you’re so mean.”

Johnnie winced, then remembered Axel was a child and he didn’t have to consider anything he said. “Rory comes to visit me every day after he gets home from school.”

“Rory comes to visit you after Mattie gets home from school. He’s afraid to leave Aunt Kendall. And Rory has to visit you. You’re his dad and he loves you, although I think that reflects poorly on him. If he was my client, I’d advise him to walk away while he’s ahead.”

There was absolutely no fucking way that Christopher’s children were as intelligent, or more intelligent, than Johnnie’s. None. Zero. Yet, Axel was holding a conversation with Johnnie and stringing together words like a grownup. He wasn’t cowering in fear and ceding control out of respect.

“Bye, Uncle.”

Fuck.

“Wait, Axel! Help me with the pillows.”

Axel had a surprisingly kind and patient bedside manner. He didn’t tease Johnnie at his moans and groans or rush him to lift himself. It took several minutes of stops, starts and curses, for Axel to arrange the four pillows behind Johnnie and prop him against him.

“What’s this?” Axel asked, lifting the empty urinal after Johnnie was properly arranged. He unscrewed the top and sniffed, then frowned. “It smells like pee.”

“I piss in it, so I guess it would.”

Snapping his brows together, Axel considered it for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. “So your cock goes in here?”

“Yes, you little nosy motherfucker.”

“Do they make small ones? I have an idea—”

“No!” Johnnie pointed to the nightstand.

Scowling, Axel stomped over and set the urinal down then threw the cap next to it.

“Whatever the fuck it is, push it out of your head.”

“It don’t involve you, so don’t get your knockers all twisted, Uncle Johnnie.”

Squinting, Johnnie searched to see if Axel was fucking with him. How could he go from discussing what reflected badly on Rory to fucking up a simple saying? “Knockers are tits. You mean knickers.”

Axel’s eyes rounded. “There’s another name for boobies?”

Had Johnnie ever spoken so freely with Rory or JJ?

“Dad says they can be called tits, titties, boobs, boobies, bazookas, racks, ta-tas, cha-chas, bazoombas, melons, jugs, milkers, coconuts, hooters, twin peaks, bosoms, juggernauts, and puppies.”

Johnnie laughed.

“I’m gonna add knockers,” he said proudly. “Thanks, Uncle Johnnie.”

“No problem,” he said, a little saddened when he thought of his own interactions with not only his sons but his nephews.

“Do you want to know all the names for pussy?”

“Not today. You disturbed me because you had a secret to tell me.”

Hurt crossed Axel’s features, and he frowned. “You’re not enjoying my company?”

Suddenly, Johnnie felt every bit as mean as Axel accused him of being, which annoyed the fuck out of him. He doubled down on his statement. “If I’d invited you, maybe. But you’re a child and there’s a time and place for everything.”

Axel’s little body stiffened. “Oh.”

“I don’t think you had anything to say to me. I think you came in here to fuck with me, found me awake, and knew you’d have a fight on your hands.”

“Take that back! I’m not a liar. Dad says a liar’s the worst motherfucker in the world and I didn’t believe him until Mom made us feel like the worst motherfuckers in the world for lying about Torie.”

“The conversation is over. I don’t hold conversations with my sons like this, and they are older than you. I am definitely not accountable to children, nor would I allow Kendall to use my kids to make a point.”

“How do they learn to be nice to girls then?” Axel asked.

“Not that way,” Johnnie said irritably. “Megan should be fucking ashamed of herself.”

Rolling his eyes, Axel backed away and suddenly jumped up as high as he could go, flipping himself and spiraling down, landing on his feet. He bent and lifted his feet in the air, balancing himself and standing on his hands for a full minute before cartwheeling. Standing again, he clapped, placed his hands on his hips and bent side to side, performed jumping jacks, and then went into his version of the running man, a dance Johnnie knew only because Megan had taught it to Mattie.

After ten minutes of Axel’s performance, he stopped at Johnnie’s side, fisted his hands on his hips, and glared.

“You can’t do none of that, Uncle Johnnie. You’re just laid up and barely able to move. Only your eyeballs followed me.”

“I’m not fucking paralyzed.”

“You will be! Stop talking about Mom or I’m calling in the big guns—Ryder and Ransom. We will make you back off. Mom hasn’t done you nothing, dickhead.”

Johnnie tried to grab Axel but the little motherfucker scooted back a fraction. “You will respect me!”

“I don’t respect no jackasses.”

“Axel, get out of there,” CJ called, sticking his head into the room. He glared at Johnnie, then crooked his finger at Axel. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“I came to tell him about Mattie.”

“And I told you not to.”

“You’re not her father, CJ,” Johnnie said coldly.

CJ walked fully into the room, his dislike palpable.

“I demand you tell me what’s going on.”

“Take it up with Outlaw,” CJ said flatly.

Johnnie blinked. CJ was calling Christopher ‘Outlaw’? It was what Diesel called him around the club. Now CJ was doing it. Of course, Christopher was slowly acclimating his son to club life. It was what Big Joe had done with Christopher. It was what made him such a good leader. Too late, Johnnie realized all the ways he’d failed not only Matilda, but Rory as well.

Each of Christopher’s sons from Diesel to Gunner were confident in their own abilities. It was CJ who was the legacy. Christopher’s. Big Joe’s. And Cee Cee’s.

It was CJ who Megan had shaped to be his father’s son. She’d reveled in CJ imitating Christopher. No, she’d encouraged it.

Now, her sons were banding together to protect her. CJ saw Johnnie as the enemy, who, if left up to him, would bury Johnnie to safeguard his mother.

“Aunt Kendall!” Axel called, staring at the doorway and drawing Johnnie’s and CJ’s attention in that direction.

Johnnie widened his eyes. In her bare feet, she was dressed in one of his favorite nightgowns, made of white lace and golden yellow silk that turned her from a beautiful woman into a sultry siren. She’d clipped her hair but most of it had escaped.

“You walked from our house to the club half fucking dressed, Kendall?” Johnnie demanded.

Too late, he saw the fury on Kendall’s face. It registered a moment before she picked up the battery-operated radio on the chest of drawers just inside the door and lobbed it at his head. He turned to escape, flipping right instead of left. As it crashed against the brass headboard, he rolled onto the floor.

“You motherfucker,” she stormed, running to him and kicking the fuck out of his thigh, then swung and punched the side of his fucking head. “You answer Mattie’s fucking call or you’ll end up in a fucking coma.”

He could only cover his head to escape her blows. To do that, he had to ignore the pain screaming through every cell in his body.

“If you can’t act like her fucking father, you don’t need to be conscious, motherfucker.” She kicked him again.

Finally, she stopped hitting him.

“Let go of me, CJ!” Kendall snarled.

“No, Mom,” Rory said, having entered the room at some point as well. “You don’t want to hurt Dad.”

“I want to do more than hurt that motherfucker, son. Let go of me! I’m not going to hit him again.”

“I’m here, Dad,” Rory said, sounding sad and tired. “I don’t want Mom to hurt you and then regret it.”

“Look at me, Johnnie.”

Sighing, Johnnie dropped his hands from around his head. Kendall loomed directly in front of him. When he tipped his head back to look at her, she kneeled in front of him.

“Do you want us to stay married?” she demanded.

Of all the questions he’d expected, it hadn’t been that one. He stared at her. At the anger and pain and fear in her eyes. Yet, there was something he’d never before seen: determination.

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he said quietly, everything else melting away. More afraid then he’d ever been that he’d actually lose her. Not to death or mental illness or running afoul of Christopher. Her love. Her admiration. Her support.

Her.

“Then this is what you won’t do—ignore my daughter.”

Johnnie stiffened. “She’s my daughter, too. I made her.”

“Don’t make me fucking regret that as much as I’m sure Mattie does.”

“You little bitch. Do you know how many women would’ve killed to have my child?”

“I don’t give a fuck, fuckhead. Whether you had ten other children wouldn’t matter to me. They didn’t drop out of my pussy.”

“Mom, please,” Rory said as Axel cried, “Oh, brother.”

“You’re being unnecessarily crude and I never wanted another woman to have my children.”

“We all know that’s a fucking lie,” Kendall sneered.

“Megan has nothing to do with this conversation,” Johnnie roared, adrenaline removing his pain. “Stop bringing her up. Other than her, if another woman claimed she was pregnant for me, I wouldn’t have wanted it.”

“Whatever, Johnnie. I don’t care about hypothetical children. I care about the ones I gave birth to. If you want us to stay married, you’re going to act like you have fucking sense and talk to Mattie. Most of all, you’re not going to fucking judge her or blame her. You’re going to apologize and make her feel fucking safe or I fucking swear, I’m taking my children and I’m leaving.”

“After the fucking fight. I have a say-so in that.”

“Mattie wouldn’t want to stay with you.”

Johnnie opened his mouth to spew venom and threats, but he knew better than to push Kendall. The woman was unpredictable. “Mattie humiliated me—”

“This isn’t about you. Why can’t you get that through your fucking head?”

Clenching his jaw, Johnnie glanced away. Matilda had been born in Michigan after Kendall stowed away on a plane and got herself, Val, and Christopher kidnapped. She’d gone into labor and given birth on the same day Megan had Ryder. Johnnie still remembered seeing his daughter for the very first time, when he’d pledged to protect her and cherish her and love her unconditionally, something he himself had only ever gotten from Christopher.

He’d sworn never to use her as a game piece, making countermoves to manipulate her life to how he thought it should be. But, goddamn, he was supposed to have more time with his little girl.

He bowed his head.

Kendall moved away from him and stood, leaving her polished toes in his line of vision. She smelled of whisky and lavender. Of home. She was everything he wanted and needed, everything he should’ve focused on when Bash first began fucking with him.

Once or twice over the months, Johnnie had thought about stealing Kendall and running to some place where no one could find them, and she couldn’t escape.

The entire situation had spiraled so far out of control, there might come a day when he’d have no choice but to flee. Except he couldn’t leave her.

Deep down, he doubted he would ever have to take such extreme measures.

He looked up at her. Her anger was dissipating and her face was gentling, the crease in her brow easing. She held out her hand.

His muscles loosened and he placed his hand in hers. The moment she tugged, Rory jumped up and CJ took Kendall’s place. The boys worked together to help Johnnie to his feet and back into bed, where Axel threw the covers over him.

Kendall’s nipples pressed against the silk. Johnnie stared at her tits, then lifted his gaze to the burning intensity in her eyes.

He groaned inwardly. Fuck.

“Here, Aunt Kendall.” CJ shrugged out of his jacket and settled it on her shoulders. “It’s cold outside. I don’t have as far to walk as you.” He looked at Axel. “Go ask one of the guys for a pair of socks.”

“Make sure they’re clean,” Rory called as Axel raced out of the room.

She turned, tightening her fingers on the edges of CJ’s jacket. “I’ll wait at the bar.”

“Can I come home, Kendall?”

Halting at the door, she turned. “When you make up with Mattie.”

“I’ll talk to her,” he promised. “I-I won’t…I’ll apologize.”

She gave him a curt nod, then started off again.

“Kendall?” he called.

“What, Johnnie?” she huffed.

“Restart your meds.”

She sniffed. “I’ll think about it,” she said, and swept out of the room, leaving a horrified silence in her wake.