Page 193 of Relentles
“I-I have to talk to Bailey,” Roxanne said, completely shaken.
“Come on, sweetheart.” Knox tucked her close to him and guided her out of the room.
Digger shook his head and started out, calling, “please send my woman home as soon as possible.”
“I’m here, Mark,” Bunny said, standing in the hallway.
A moment later, they left Christopher alone.
In all the turmoil of the night, he thought he’d broken through Megan’s wall. She’d allowed him to hold her. But what if Roxanne was right? What if Megan didn’t want to see him tonight?
As he grappled with those questions, he received his answers.
Megan: Hey.
Just as he read that text, another one came through.
Megan: What are you up to?
After Bunny left her alone, Meggie sat on her bed, surrounded by silence. It had been so long since she’d felt so alone that she didn’t immediately recognize it.
Years ago, there were times that it seemed as if she had no one in the world to rely on. As far back as she remembered, her mother depended on Meggie for her happiness, her safety, and her help. Neither Dinah nor Meggie ever foresaw a change.
Dinah would lean on Meggie. In turn, she’d seek out her father. When she’d been a child, Big Joe’s visits meant everything to her. He’d come and sweep her into his arms, throw her into the air, and never resent her if she forgot to add sugar to his lemonade or set the bottle of ketchup on the table when they ate burgers.
Meggie supposed she recognized Dinah’s illness even then. She’d still carried herself with dignity and took pride in her appearance. Dinah fostered Meggie’s love of clothes that Big Joe funded.
Anything she wanted, her daddy gave to her. He loved her.
Except he loved his club more. She didn’t know it back then. He always told her he liked Harleys. That was so far from the truth. His club ensconced him on the farthest edge of one-percenter biker life. Illegalities were entrenched in the Death Dwellers. Eventually, it cost him his life.
At her husband’s hands.
A man she loved so much, she lost her breath at the thought of losing him. Somehow, he always beat death. Stayed a step ahead of his enemies.
Meggie met Christopher in his club. Not once had she ever thought to ask him to walk away. Even with all the women she had to contend with. The possibility that she’d one day get a call saying he was back in jail and, this time, there would be no saving him. The fear that she’d have to face his death. Or, worse, his not returning to her because his enemies made him disappear.
So she held onto him tightly, loved him with everything in her, and lived in the moment. She adored the babies he gave her and loved creating a home filled with love and laughter.
And poop traps.
She smiled.
As disgusting as that day was, her children never had to worry about her or their daddy looked at them with derision. They’d never berate their children out of anger toward each other.
Big Joe had never. Momma did it more than once.
When CJ was born, Meggie and Christopher had been preparing for a daughter. The announcement that she’d given Christopher a son overjoyed her.
As she gave birth to son after son after son, it amused her to see how much they wanted to emulate their daddy. CJ especially. At their church wedding, he hadn’t yet turned a year. She’d bought him his first cut.
It wasn’t amusing now. It was frightening. She’d had to share her father with the club. And her husband. And, now, her sons.
Until Torie revealed all her sons knew the truth, Meggie hadn’t thought about it. She hadn’t contemplated how some of Christopher’s thirst for blood had rubbed off on her a little. Pondering on exactly how little anyone else’s life would matter to her if she had to sacrifice her sons didn’t cross her mind.
Her no-kill list exempted her family from Christopher’s wrath and the club’s retribution. Even Johnnie.
No,especiallyJohnnie, always courting death at her husband’s hands.
