Page 42 of Misrule
“Knox,” Johnnie called over the fuck-sounds, and laughter, and Harley pipes rumbling from outside.
Keeping his eyes forward, Knox went to Johnnie’s table where Cash had sat.
Johnnie poured a glass of Scotch for Knox and kicked out the chair for him to sit. “I think it’s nice that you spent a little time getting to know Cash, Stretch, and Fee.”
Knox looked over his shoulder and nodded toward the indiscriminate sex happening. “This doesn’t bother you?”
Johnnie and Cash exchanged confused glances.
“Do you see something that should?” Johnnie asked. “Is a girl being mistreated?”
“They’re engaged in public sex. Doesn’t that count?”
“Are any of them being forced?” Johnnie persisted.
Knox looked behind him again, then turned to Johnnie and shook his head. “No.”
“Then what they’re doing is none of our business,” Johnnie decided.
Knox searched Cash’s face and then refocused on Johnnie. He’d heard about the wild parties, the orgies, the Bobs, those special women who’d gotten their names because of dick-sucking skills. He’d probably even glimpsed this behavior before, once or twice. It was different now. Helivedon the premises.
“I’m going to my room,” he said and walked away.
In the privacy of his room, he leaned against the door. Only for Roxanne would he live in a place like this, surrounded by seamy thugs and illicit activities. Once he was undressed and in bed, though, he decided he’d allow this to go on for another week or so. He missed Roxanne and wanted to be with her.
As he closed his eyes, he didn’t think of her. Cash had given him a cover story about spending the evening at his house. He’d have to thank the man the next time he saw him.
Chapter Twelve
Darkness surrounded Meggie. Underneath her, cold concrete froze her naked body. She twisted, the chains imprisoning her clanking with her movements. Her determination to live, survive, seeped away like sand through an hourglass. She shivered, losing the hope she’d tried to maintain. Her strength deserted her, even as she fought the darkness threatening to claim her. Her children needed her.
Her husband needed her.
She wanted to live. Raise CJ, Rebel, Rule, Ryder, and Ransom to adulthood. Grow old with Christopher.
A deep chill spread through her, stealing her breath. She gasped. The beat of her heart sped up, then slowed down. A sob escaped her as she gave into the inevitable. She drew in one last breath, but death robbed her midway. The frantic pounding of her pulse rose in her ears, then all went silent.
Even as her brain shut down, deprived of much needed oxygen, Meggie resisted. She didn’t want to die.
Someone was screaming…
“Megan, baby, wake the fuck up. You dreamin’.”
“Christopher,” Meggie sobbed. “I want to live. Please don’t let me die.”
“Shhhh. I’m here, Megan. I got you.”
Her husband’s scent surrounded her. Spice. Man. A hint of smoke and vestiges of alcohol.
Safety.
Shuddering, Meggie opened her eyes. Christopher’s arms wrapped her up. One of his hands cradled the back of her head. Tears streaming down her face, she clung to her husband and wept, angry, afraid, and ashamed. Nightmares plagued her like demons. Once in the midst of one, it gripped Meggie in its dark clutches.
“Wanna talk about it?” Christopher asked.
His subdued tone made her cry harder. “You shouldn’t have disturbed your sleep, Christopher.”
“Baby, you was screamin’ like a motherfucker. Woulda had to be fuckin’ grounded for my assnotto wake the fuck up.”
