Page 232 of Misrule
She stiffened and gave him a look of death. “I have a headache and I’m very nauseated, so I’m going to let that comment go as I let your yelling at me and CJ go.”
For the first time ever, Christopher ignored her ailments. His day had turned into a living hell, sending him spiraling. Within minutes of seeing Johnnie so grief-stricken, he’d discovered Megan was once again missing. Megan as a corpse, whether he was finding her dead body or seeing her in a coffin, lived on the fringes of his mind, ready to haunt his nightmares. She’d had near-death experiences before, but this last time, she’d beenkidnapped. Stolen.
“When you went to the Torps’ place and Spoon gotcha and you lost the baby, I kinda pulled the fuck away from you. It got fuckin’ bad between us, but when we made up, I promised you I ain’t ever fuckin’ doin’ that a-fuckin-gain. This motherfuckin’ time, Megan,youdoin’ it to me.”
“I am not!” she said, raising her voice an octave. “What kind of mother would I be if I give in to my fears and cower behind closed doors?”
He thrust his face into hers. “A motherfuckin’ live one,” he gritted. “Just the fuckin’ way my ass wantcha to be.”
She reached for him. “Christopher—”
He grabbed her and shook her. “No! Don’t fuckin’Christopherme, Megan. Stop actin’ like whatcha ain’t—stupid.” She’d always been goddamn hard-headed, though.
Even before her eyes darkened and her face reddened to devil color, Christopher’s words caught up to him and he tensed, preparing to have a pissed lil’ motherfucker on his hands.
Instead, her eyes wide, she hugged her stomach and released a torrent of vomit onto his chest.
Before Christopher reacted, Megan swayed and placed her hands on his chest to steady herself.
“Megan, baby, what’s—”
“Christopher.” She paused, drawing in a deep breath. “I’m losing the baby,” she managed, then went limp in his arms.
Halting in the door of the waiting room, Knox watched as Roxanne allowed Johnnie to sob on her shoulder, her own tears sliding down her cheeks. He felt like an intruder, and interloper, given his role in the current situation.
It surprised Knox to see Zoann sitting in one of the chairs, Val next to her. Her attention stayed on Johnnie and Roxanne, and Knox figured Zoann was there more to support them, than because of any sorrow toward Kendall.
Across from Zoann and Val were Mortician and Bailey. She was leaning on her husband’s chest, the devastation on her face making Knox swallow.
Because of his dislike of Kendall, he hadn’t thought through the ramifications of his actions. He’d seen Outlaw’s plan as a way to get Kendall out of Roxanne’s life—and thus his—and forged full-steam ahead.
Knox hadn’t considered how her death would affectothers.
He stepped back, unsure if he could face any of them, and not confess.
In one fell swoop, everything had been thrown into chaos. He didn’t know if Kendall was alive or dead. When Roxanne called him in hysterics, he hadn’t made much sense of her words. He hadn’t called her back. He’d summoned Grant and, together, they’d rushed to the club. Only to find another dire situation—Outlaw cradling Megan in his arms, CJ rushing to leave his parents’ side, and paramedics rushing onto the scene.
Never in Knox’s life had plans shifted so quickly. He’d gotten Roxanne a specially designed engagement ring that he was going to present to her tonight. Instead, he was at a hospital, not knowing if Kendall was alive or dead or if Megan had lost her baby.
The suddenness of his ringing phone startled him. Looking at the screen, it surprised him to see Joyner Amfinger’s name and number pop up.
“Hello,” Knox answered, hovering in the shadows of the grief-stricken waiting room. He doubted a gun deal would be a top priority for Outlaw right now, but felt obligated to talk to Amfinger in case there were any questions that Knox might be able to answer.
“Knox!” Amfinger said with jolting joviality.
Either Knox hadn’t paid much attention before or the dire events had heightened his senses. The sound of the man’s happiness annoyed Knox, though, and he realized he didn’t have it in him to entertain this conversation.
“I’m sorry, Amfinger,” Knox started, watching as a doctor walked into the waiting room. “I’ll need to call you back tomorrow.”
“I understand,” the man responded. “I was just calling to express my sympathy about your wife’s death.”
Knox frowned. “Callie?” Her murder had made national news, so he supposed Amfinger could’ve heard about it through a media outlet. But she'd been dead nearly a month, so he couldn’t understand the timing of the call. “She’s my ex-wife.”
“Right,” Amfinger said with a disarming laugh. “Excuse me.”
The doctor walked out of the waiting room.
Knox didn’t hear anything, a cry of relief or a wail of grief. He had no indication whether Kendall had survived or not.
