Page 1 of Misrule
Prologue
“When you intend to make a honest woman out of my momma-in-law?”
For the past two months, Mortician had been posing that question to Knox Harrington on an increasingly regular basis. He felt the pressure. Truth be told, he wanted to marry Roxanne Doucette, Mortician’s “momma-in-law”, and something of a mother figure to not only the women of the Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club, but the men, too.
Knox shrugged, his usual answer. The other men at the table sent him various looks of disapproval and displeasure. The club president, Outlaw, lifted a brow at him, the silent question screamingDANGERto Knox.
Outlaw discarded three cards, then replaced them in his hand with three from the deck. They were at their weekly get-together, this time held at Mortician and his wife, Bailey’s, house. Roxanne lived in the mother-in-law quarters, where Knox also lived now. The place was small, nothing he was used to; however, it made Roxanne happy so he was more than willing to ignore the lack of space.
A burst of female laughter emanated from the den, two doors down the hall from where the men sat in the game room. Knox picked out Roxanne’s robust laughter and couldn’t help but smile. She was such a beautiful, intelligent, vivacious woman. She brought meaning and sunshine to his life. He should want to jump at the chance to marry her.
So what was stopping him?
He glanced around the table, focusing first on Mortician, the club enforcer, who loved his dreads, the club, and family, and not necessarily in that order. If something made Bailey unhappy, Mortician went out of his way to change that. And, if Roxanne was unhappy, then most assuredly Bailey would be. The girl simply adored her mother.
Knox looked at Johnnie, club VP. He was educated and easy-going, so above the rest of the club—on Knox’s level actually—that Knox wondered why Johnnie didn’t turn in his patch. Recently, he’d separated from his wife. Which pleased Knox to no end. HehatedKendall, and was glad he didn’t have to suffer her presence at the family dinners anymore.
Next, he spied on Val, the club’s Road Captain. He was an idiot. Period.
Knox turned his attention to Digger, sergeant-at-arms and Mortician’s blood brother. Another idiot, who, so far, hadn’t packed on the pounds with all the eating he’d become known for.
Knox moved on to Cash and Stretch, the explosive’s technician and secretary/treasurer respectively, as well as husbands to each other, and boyfriends to Outlaw’s sister, Ophelia. And her baby daddies to her two kids. Cash might’ve been on-level with Knox and Johnnie, except he’d tied himself to Ophelia and Stretch, Pushover One and Pushover Two.
And, finally, there was Outlaw. King of Criminals, Jerks, and Assholes…
There was his answer, Knox realized. He hadn’t proposed to Roxanne because ofthem.
“A perfect time to propose might be at Meggie Valentine Ball,” Val offered into the silence, not dropping the subject as they usually did once Knox gave his shrug-answer.
Mortician studied the cards in his hand. “What you think about that, Knox?”
Placing his cards in front of him, Knox squeezed the bridge of his nose. He had to say something to get them off this track. “We’re living together,” he blurted. “We don’t need to marry.”
“What? You planning on ducking out on my momma-in-law or some shit?”
Frustrated, Knox growled. “Of course not! But why get legalities involved if she’s perfectly happy with our arrangement?”
Mortician opened his mouth to put up another argument.
Irritation surged into Knox. “If she was so concerned about marriage, she wouldn’t have invited me to live with her beforehand,” he snapped. “Why pay for something when I’m getting it for free?”
Dark ire lit Mortician’s eyes. Throwing his cards aside, he got to his feet, his hand going to his cut where he kept his gun.
“You can’t bully me into marrying her,” Knox pointed out.
“I can do whatever the fuck I want to, son,” Mortician sneered.
Deciding this moment wasn’t the time to back down, Knox stood, too. “You want me to propose? Fine. I’ll ask her to marry me, then have the longest engagement in history. That’sifshe even accepts.”
“She going to accept,” Mortician stated. “She love you.”
The words did something to Knox’s heart. Made it swell. Beat faster. Melt. And whatever other flowery idiom he could think of. He cleared his throat. “And I love her.”
“She been through enough,” Digger inserted. “Cancer, kidnapping, fucking with your uppity ass.”
Knox glared at Digger, although he continued, unperturbed.
“She deserve to know you belong to her and she belong to you.”
