"Do you think-"

"I don't have time to f.u.c.kin' 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.

"f.u.c.k, 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 s.e.xual 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 d.i.c.k throbbed and his tight b.a.l.l.s ached. f.u.c.k his conscience for beating him to a pulp. No matter how f.u.c.ked 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 f.u.c.king glee as another means to exact further revenge on the man who'd turned his life up-f.u.c.kin-side down. However, he wasn't that much of a dumb f.u.c.k. f.u.c.khead Foy was dead, so using his daughter for more revenge wouldn't do n.o.body a whole f.u.c.king lot of good. It wasn't like he was around to know and Outlaw knew Snake wouldn't care since he'd known f.u.c.k-all about her existence.

Megan's f.u.c.king 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 G.o.d, a fact he tried hard to forget.

Something he'd never shared with anyone but Boss and his cousin, Johnnie. And, now, Megan. f.u.c.k, 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 motherf.u.c.ker 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 wh.o.r.es who came through the club did it.

"You wanna f.u.c.kin' die, you stupid s.l.u.t?"

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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s 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 b.i.t.c.h 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 compa.s.sion he'd ever had in him.

Whatever else the Death Dwellers might be accused of, physically harming women wasn't it. Boss kicked the s.h.i.t 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 f.u.c.k outta here, Outlaw. I don't need your f.u.c.kin' help with this wh.o.r.e."

"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 h.e.l.l with each pa.s.sing day, where no one escaped his drug-fueled wrath. Outlaw, Rack, or Snake barely reached him anymore.

"You f.u.c.kin' her? That's why you wanna get her the f.u.c.k outta here?"

Not anymore. Not that Outlaw would mention that or remind Boss most of the boys in the club had tapped Summer's p.u.s.s.y. 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 Boss's paranoia. His dilated eyes watched Outlaw. He'd lost a s.h.i.tload 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 f.u.c.k 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 f.u.c.k away until...when Boss returned...f.u.c.k...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 rea.s.sure 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 f.u.c.k 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 motherf.u.c.ker. Because he'd wanted Boss. Wanted the stupid f.u.c.ker 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 b.i.t.c.h from his bedroom for entertainment before disposing of her like they did Summer.

Boss got right in his face. "You f.u.c.kin' sure 'bout that, motherf.u.c.ker. Cuz, maybe, I should f.u.c.kin' kill you and then any b.i.t.c.h I want."

Snake, Rack, Val, Mortician, and Digger were silent, shifting in their seats, swallowing, sweating. Praying. Outlaw should've known Boss was up to this s.h.i.t when he'd given Sinner, Tex, and Guardian orders to make a run, then called the rest of them to church.

"You f.u.c.kin' hear me, motherf.u.c.ker? Now, you go get that b.i.t.c.h, so we can f.u.c.k her and then bury her."

Outlaw swallowed, his hands flexing to keep from reaching for his piece. He could deny, as much as he wanted, Boss would never hurt him, but Outlaw knew better. After seeing Boss's destruction over the past months, he knew Boss stood a hair's breadth from putting him to ground.

"Sorry, Prez. I ain't mean to tell you what to do. Killin' girls ain't us." It's not you, Outlaw wanted to add.

Outlaw had seen some scary motherf.u.c.kers and stood up to them, but, Jesus, the maniacal light in Boss's eyes frightened him. In that moment, he knew. One or both of them would die. Boss was too far gone, had too much innocent blood on his hands and wanted more. It didn't motherf.u.c.king matter whose blood he spilled, either.

Boss thumped his chest. "I'm not asking you to kill those s.l.u.ts. I do the killing. You do the disposal."

Outlaw backed away, his heart shattering into millions of pieces. He wanted to live. He wanted Boss to live. He wanted everything to be the same as before. Because, if he somehow managed to get out of this with both their lives intact, he was turning in his patch. And that hurt as much as anything. This club represented everything to him. His f.u.c.king entire life.

"Now go get the b.i.t.c.h."

Rack stood. "Boss, calm down. Give the brother a break. I'll get the f.u.c.kin' b.i.t.c.h for you and do to her whatever you want me to afterwards."

"I want this a.s.shole. My VP," he sneered. "I chose this motherf.u.c.ker over my own flesh and blood." He pulled his gun and shoved it to the bridge of Outlaw's nose. "He owes me. You all f.u.c.kin' owe me."

"Dad, put your s.h.i.t away. You'll never f.u.c.kin' forgive yourself if you hurt this motherf.u.c.ker."

Even the pretense of Snake and Outlaw having a friendship was stripped away. They'd always tolerated each other to make Big Joe happy.

"I chose you, Christopher," Boss screamed. "You told me the f.u.c.k like it was. I respected that. You were a man of your word and cow towed to no one." Spit slid from the sides of his mouth, the hand holding the gun shaking. "But if you defy me, you're a dead f.u.c.k. I'm sick of your bulls.h.i.t anyway. Whining about me and what I need to do. f.u.c.k YOU. I do what the f.u.c.k I wanna do."

After a tense moment, he lowered the gun and everyone breathed a collective sigh. Boss narrowed his eyes, studied each man, then laughed and pulled Outlaw into a chokehold, his idea of affection. "I love ya, boy. You're like a second son to me." He thrust his chin toward the door. "I think I'm gonna get some rest. We'll party another time."

Unless they had church or support clubs were visiting, no one hung out in the main room much anymore. Nowadays, they partied in small groups and in the rooms of the brothers who lived on premises. Most of the brothers had even given up their old ladies to keep the b.i.t.c.hes safe. Boss was a loose cannon and no one wanted to set him off. After the near disaster in the boardroom, everyone scattered. Outlaw was exhausted, though, and he wanted to be alone. He didn't want to see or hear no bulls.h.i.t.

How unfortunate for him.

Just when the alcohol and Aunt Mary started buzzing through him, a girl's scream ripped through the quiet. What the f.u.c.k was going on now? Grabbing his nine, he sprinted out the door and down the hall toward the sounds. He skidded to a halt and stared at the half opened door.

Boss's room.

f.u.c.k.

"No! Stop! It hurts. Please, please, please."

"Open, you little s.l.u.t."

The next scream went through Outlaw and he knew he had to breach the lion's den. This girl sounded so f.u.c.king young. Too young. He didn't know how he knew it because he'd dealt with b.i.t.c.hes who were eighteen and nineteen, thanks to Boss. But Summer was the oldest b.i.t.c.h Boss had been with in a while and she'd been twenty-two.

"Help me! Please!"

The unmistakable sound of flesh connecting with flesh decided Outlaw. He opened the door fully and stepped in. On the bed, Boss lay between a pair of pale white legs, his pants still on, just pulled down. With each thrust, the girl screamed and Outlaw gripped his nine, knowing he had to be ready to fire, even though he kept his hand slack at his side.

He cleared his throat. "Yo', Prez."

Big Joe went still and looked over his shoulder, his weight bearing down on the female beneath him.

"Get the f.u.c.k out."

"This ain't our style," he said quietly. "You hurtin' her. I heard her screams down the hall."

Boss pulled away and roared to his feet, bringing up his pants as he did. Before he closed his fly, Outlaw saw Boss had as much blood on his d.i.c.k as the girl had smeared on her thighs. Grabbing his .45 from the nightstand and stuffing it in his waistband, Boss stalked to Outlaw.

One glance at the trembling girl on that bed told him all he needed to know. He'd been in enough b.i.t.c.hes to recognize when he saw one who shouldn't have some dirty old motherf.u.c.ker using her the way Boss had. He hoped the gun stuffed in his pants went off and blew his f.u.c.king d.i.c.k off.

Outlaw hated Joseph Foy, in that moment. He couldn't take this s.h.i.t anymore. First thing tomorrow, he'd turn in his VP patch and stomp on his f.u.c.king cut.

Boss cold-clocked Outlaw, who'd been so lost in his thoughts he never saw it coming. Before Outlaw had a chance to recover, Boss. .h.i.t him again, sending him to his knees.

He gripped handfuls of his hair. "I told you stay out my s.h.i.t."

Fighting to remain conscious, Outlaw's hold on his gun tightened. "Let her go. I doubt she's even legal."

"She'll be legal in about four years," Boss sneered. "That ain't your f.u.c.king business."

Outlaw wanted to argue, but the time for arguing had pa.s.sed. It all happened too quick and, yet, the girl's head exploding, Boss turning the gun to Outlaw, and Outlaw raising his own piece and pulling the trigger while diving for cover seemed to go in slow motion. Painful, heartbreaking, life-changing slow motion with no rewind b.u.t.ton to do s.h.i.t over, to make whatever had gone wrong right. To bring this girl back.

But it was too late now. She was dead.

And Boss was dead.

Outlaw blinked and snapped back to the present, wanting to forget everything about Joseph f.u.c.king Foy. But, now, his beautiful girl needed him and Outlaw didn't f.u.c.king know what to do with her. If he could f.u.c.king hate that motherf.u.c.king Boss a little more, he did just then.

Sighing, he buried his hand in her beautiful golden hair. He needed to get her the f.u.c.k away but he didn't know where he'd put her. She made him weak and regretful. He'd always liked his given name but it just didn't fit in these surroundings. And his sir name he f.u.c.king detested. He closed his eyes and kissed the top of her head.

"What happened between you and Rack?" he persisted.

"He c-came there...um..." She sniffled and sat up, her firm little a.s.s grinding against his c.o.c.k. "How long have I been here?"

"Two days." Two days of h.e.l.l, too. He'd gotten just about f.u.c.k all done. She'd been feverish, racked with shivers and coughs, and thrashing through nightmares. He'd kept her cooled off with cool towels, dribbled water in her mouth, and acted like a nurse.

Though pale, she was awake and Christopher took that as a good sign.

She swiped the back of her hand over her red, runny nose and nodded. "Then, three nights ago. You told him about going after me for the money."

"Yeah," he confirmed, studying her bruised and battered face. "What you did, stealin' his money, wasn't good but it was only five dollars and after you told him what you wanted the bucks for, he shoulda pulled back. No, he shoulda f.u.c.kin' gave you more money so you could get somethin' decent to eat." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Wait. You sayin' that motherf.u.c.ker hunted you down or some s.h.i.t?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. When he saw me he was really angry."

Outlaw's mind spun. He needed to get Rack the f.u.c.k out of the Death Dwellers, but he had a lot of the brothers in his corner and, if Outlaw disappeared Rack, he might face even more anarchy. He didn't consider himself a b.i.t.c.h a.s.s punk, but, f.u.c.k him, it took a heart of steel and b.a.l.l.s the size of an elephant to run this s.h.i.t. And he'd been f.u.c.ked in the head for months, losing more and more control of everything because of all the hatred he carried for Big Joe.

Outlaw scowled at the admission. He stared at what he knew could become his greatest weakness. "This is the deal, Megan." He stood and folded his arms, determined to ignore the outline of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his shirt. "I have a meetin' to get to. I'm gonna bring you some food. You take a shower after you eat and try to get some rest. I'll see you in the mornin' and we'll figure out s.h.i.t then."

Megan frowned at him and sneezed. "Are you going to sleep at your house?"

He'd call Ellen so she could meet him at Kiera's house, then f.u.c.k the two of them until his d.i.c.k punked out. "Nope. Besides, I consider this place my house."

She hesitated. "Oh," she said in a small voice as if she knew he'd leave her to go to another woman.

So what if she did? All the better. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He remembered something else he'd noted on her driver's license when he'd found her backpack and verified her ident.i.ty.

"Happy belated birthday."

She smiled at him and, though her lips were cracked and swollen, he swore her look reached out and touched his heart.

"Th-thank you," she whispered. "That's why I took the five dollars. I wanted to celebrate with some French fries. Treat myself and try to forget my first birthday alone."

A girl like her would see birthdays as special. A man like him acknowledged the day with herbs and p.u.s.s.y.

Her coughing reminded him he needed to buy some over-the-counter medicine for her. If she hadn't improved by tomorrow when he returned, he'd have to suck it up, bring her to the hospital, and hope his sister wouldn't be on duty.

"Stay in here."

"Okay."

A sweet voice to go with a beautiful face. Yeah, he was f.u.c.ked if he didn't get his d.i.c.k in some b.i.t.c.h tonight and get Megan the f.u.c.k away from him tomorrow. "We'll see about gettin' you somewhere."

She swallowed. "Is there anywhere you can send me? I-I mean a place where people know you?"

"My mother but-"

Jesus, the hope in her barely opened eye twisted him up.

"But?" she whispered.

"But I ain't talked to or saw my mother for about a year."

"Why?"

He cracked his knuckles before jerking his head from side-to-side and cracking his neck. "Because I..." His voice trailed off and he clenched his jaw. Because he'd felt tainted, unworthy to be in her presence. He'd broken the Bikers' Creed, committed the ultimate betrayal, when his patch bound him to always take care of his brothers and their families. Respect them. His mother didn't know about most of the s.h.i.t he did, but she did know how he admired one certain man.

"Chris...um-"