Page 148 of Misrule
“He’s not,” Knox said stiffly. “I swear I only want to help.”
Christopher didn’t trust Knox one fucking bit. “Why?”
“I want to prove to Mortician that I’d never duck out on Roxanne. I want to show all of you that I’m willing to put my freedom on the line to be with her.”
“Roxanne ain’t gonna want you to do that shit,” Christopher pointed out.
Knox nodded. “All of you are very important to her. Let me do this, Outlaw. And when the deal is made, you’ll see I’m trustworthy. Then, she’ll see it, too, and take me back. I can move back in with her before our wedding. See? I take care of you all and, in return, you get the hell off my back.”
“Your fuckin’ ass ain’t gettin’ to set fuckin’ terms,” Christopher said.
“Besides, you don’t make these types of deals overnight,” Val said. “There must be something more than that involved.”
Knox looked from Val to Christopher. “Joyner needs to get rid of the guns. AKs will be a loss leader. The Death Dwellers and Amfinger will do good together.
“You fuckin’ talkin’ what might be club fuckin’ business without fuckin’ permission?” Christopher asked. “With-fuckin-out bein’ patched the fuck in?”
Johnnie winced. It was quick but Christopher still saw it. Fuck, Kendall was a fucking busybody but she got that shit from Johnnie’s dumb ass. He opened his fucking mouth too fucking much. Worse, it was to motherfuckers who couldn’t shut the fuck up and keep the shit they discovered to themselves. No, Kendall and Knox used the information Johnnie provided to try to manipulate the club into doing what the fucktheywanted done.
Christopher tossed his cigarette away, grabbed Johnnie by the collar and dragged him closer to Knox. “Text me this motherfucker number, Knox.Imatalk to him my-fuckin-self.”
“You got—”
Christopher grabbed Knox and banged his head against Johnnie’s, stepping back when they fell to the ground, knocked the fuck out, side-by-side like the stupid motherfuckers they were.
He looked at Val, who stuffed his hands in his pockets and began whistling some off-fucking-key tune. His gaze roamed to Digger, who raised his hands, as if he was in a fucking holdup. Mort merely sighed, not saying a word as Christopher stormed the fuck away.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The banging on her door doubled the pressure in Roxy’s head, and she forced herself into a sitting position. It seems as if she’d been living in a never-ending nightmare for the last week. After putting out the fire in Outlaw’s bathroom, she’d made it to her house, shut the door, and began sobbing all over again. The ending of her relationship with Knox devastated her. His words replayed in her head, over and over again, seeming to confirm the horribleness of Duke’s opinion of her.
She tried to act normal by smiling and joking, as if her heart hadn’t been torn out. It was so hard, especially during her times at the clubhouse. Knox seemed to be in the main room for dinner more than he’d had in all the months they’d been together.
Standing, Roxy rubbed her eyes. Alone at night, she cried so much her lids were painful to the touch.
“Roxanne, open this fucking door,” Mortician yelled, pounding on her door again.
Her quarters were her private sanctuary, the perfect place to hide until the time came for her to get back to the clubhouse to start dinner. She was uninterested in seeing anybody, especially her overprotective son-in-law. She just wanted silence. Maybe, a day or two on her own, where she didn’t have to go to the clubhouse, would help her. Yet, she didn’t have that luxury. Not if she wanted Knox to live.
In all honesty, she shouldn’t have been looking as if she had a broken heart. If Mortician saw her now…Before she decided on the story she’d give to him for why she looked such a hot mess—she didn’t need a mirror; a woman justfelther own wrecked appearance—the door opened.
She hadn’t heard any wood splintering, so she knew he’d used the spare key. Sauntering into view, Mortician spied her and halted, narrowing his eyes. He gave her the once over, then folded his arms and glared at her.
“What the fuck wrong with your ass?”
Sliding her gaze away, Roxy shrugged. “I was really tired, so after I finished breakfast, I came home for a nap,” she told him. The words sounded truthful but, to her, felt wooden. Fake. Just as her engagement to Knox had been. He hadn’t wanted to marry her in the first place. He’d been backed into a corner by the boys.
“You sure you broke it off with Knox?” Mortician asked with skepticism.
Roxy nodded and turned away, heading to her kitchen. She started clearing away the dishes she’d used for herself this morning, setting them in the sink to rinse them out and place them in the dishwasher.
She did neither. Only stared at the dishes, unable to gather the motivation for such a simple task.
A hand touched her shoulder. She didn’t jump, though. She knew Mortician was there.
“Why you broke it off? The real reason.”
She’d been avoiding all the boys, the women too, to evade a detailed explanation. After her simple, ‘I decided it wouldn’t work’, they hadn’t pressed her. They’d left her alone.
