Chapter Twenty-Seven—Kendall #2
“Callie could never hate you, Grant. She adored you. You were her world.”
“Really, Dad? Whenever she was angry about something, she told me I was just like you and she hated you. What does that mean?”
“You were so young,” Knox said. “I think the connection in your head has been misconstrued in reality.
“She didn’t implicitly say you’re like your father so I hate you, too, but the insinuation was there.”
“You misunderstood.”
“She told me I hate your father and you’re just like him. What the fuck would you think? All because I wanted to spend time with you and Roxy.”
“We can get you back into counseling?” Roxy offered because Knox had yet to respond. “It might help.”
“I spent five fucking years in counseling, Roxy,” Grant said.
“Hey, watch your fucking tone with Roxanne,” Knox barked. “I know you’re upset but you’re not taking out your frustrations on her. Do you understand?”
“I didn’t mean it, Roxy,” Grant said, immediately regretful.
“No offense taken, sugar.” She cocked her head to the side. “Do you want to come home for whatever reason or do you want to escape Gene and Audry?”
“Both. I really want to join the club.”
“I assume you told Mortician,” Knox said stiffly.
“Not to disrespect you, Dad. I just didn’t want you to stop loving me.”
Clenching his jaw, Knox glanced away, not responding to the plea in his son’s voice.
Roxy slid to her feet, pausing to hug and kiss Knox before smiling at Grant. “Let’s talk for a few minutes, sugar.” She started off, then looked at Kendall. “I won’t be long, baby.”
“Take your time. I have no place to go.”
Sighing, Roxy took Grant’s hand and guided him out the kitchen, leaving Kendall alone with Knox.
Humming under her breath, she sipped her wine.
“You’re enjoying this,” Knox accused.
“Enjoying you suffering? Perhaps. But I don’t like to see Grant so torn up.”
“Unlike Johnnie, I cannot accept the fact that my son, my only son, wants to be a fucking career biker. A criminal.”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, so shut the fuck up, asshole.” Second or third time she’d said those exact words today.
Not that it was her fault.
“If you’re referring to Uncle Avalon—”
“Ha! I haven’t thought about that motherfucker in years. I’m referring to you.”
“I don’t think you and I will ever truly be friends.”
“I don’t think I give a fuck, motherfucker,” Kendall replied, glaring at him.
“You don’t like me, and you never have.”
“One thing we can agree on,” she said, draining her second glass of wine and setting it on the counter. She reached for the bottle and swigged.
“You’re some piece of work, Kendall.”
“And you’re some motherfucker, Knox.”
“Come up with a new curse word. That one’s old.”
“How about bitch, cunt, and fucking attempted murderer? That good enough for you?”
“Get out.”
“Fuck off. I’m here for Roxy, not you. But I think it’s fucking appalling that you have the goddamn gall to look down on my husband and your son because of the club when you, fuckhead, tried to kill me.”
And over a far pettier reason than Outlaw. Kendall’s antics risked Meggie’s life, but Knox was upset because of her loyalty to the club and her family, so he wanted her to die for it.
At the silence, Kendall lifted a brow.
“I don’t…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Knox managed.
“My skills of deduction are as excellent as my investigation tactics. Neither Stretch nor Val planted those cameras in the house I was exiled to. You were the private investigator. Only you could dig up Emily and put her in front of Johnnie. Knowing full well that would break me. You did it because I bested you when you never understood my loyalty was to my husband—” A fucking lot of good that did her, but whatever.
“So, Mr. High-and-Mighty fuckface, dickhead, motherfucker, you’re living in your glass house and making your son miserable. ”
“Kendall…if Roxy…she’d hate me—”
Kendall made a face at him. “I’d never hurt her that way. I figured it out years ago. I might be a lot of things, but I’ve learned my lessons. Hard though they were. I love her and I love Johnnie. They are my priority. Not you. Before you turn your back on Grant, remember your fucking sins.”
“Johnnie would kill me.”
Unlike Christopher who made no apologies for what he’d done, Knox pretended he was above Johnnie and almost everyone connected to the club. “Johnnie knows, Knox. Remember? He got Emily’s address from you. He just hasn’t connected the fact that you helped orchestrate my almost suicide.”
“Uh…what?”
Kendall swigged again. “Never mind. If you don’t understand, you never will.”
Roxy returned just as Kendall drained the bottle.
“Damn, sugar. Slow down! You’re sucking that grape back like it’s fucking water.”
“Everything all settled with Grant?” Kendall asked, ignoring Roxy’s observation.
“Yeah, baby. I think. He’s returning to Boston, then coming home for Easter.
He’ll make a firm decision then.” She turned to Knox.
“Ahhh, sugar, don’t look so worried. Grant understands your point of view.
Perhaps, he will come around to your way of thinking, but you need to talk to Gene and Audry. ”
Knox nodded.
Roxy hugged him tightly. He pulled her into his arms, sent Kendall a pleading gaze, then closed his eyes, and buried his face in the crook of Roxy’s shoulder.
She took his face between her hands. “It’s okay—”
“No, Roxanne. It isn’t. I-I need to talk to Grant. I’ve been so wrong.” He stumbled away.
“That poor man. Still sadity at his heart,” Roxy said with a shake of her head. She grabbed another bottle of wine and used the electric wine opener to uncork it. After pouring a third glass for Kendall, she sat down again. “What’s up, sugar?”
Kendall came over, intending to cry on Roxy’s shoulders.
About Bash and her need to ask him about Jana and Meggie, and all the secrets of the club.
Ask her about Bailey and Harley and open up about how Johnnie was treating her.
Roxy had been so scarce recently. But she had her own problems, so she merely said, “Mort’s in trouble. ”
“He didn’t sound himself earlier.” Roxy rubbed her brow. “I asked him if he wanted to talk. He said he didn’t have the time. What’s wrong with him? Maybe, we can put our heads together and help him.”
Kendall sincerely hoped so. “Digger is a fucking idiot,” she grumbled.
Roxy grinned. “You’re preaching to the choir, sugar.”
“And–” Kendall heaved in a breath. “There’s a fucking bitch circling around Mortician,” she confined, on his behalf not Bailey’s. “He needs his mother-in-law. Stat.”
Instead of going home and facing her husband on her own with her decision about Bash, she sent a mass text and asked the officers to meet her at the clubhouse.
Roxy got it out of Kendall about what she asked Mortician to help her with and she convinced Kendall that not only did Christopher need to know as soon as possible, but Johnnie, too.
“Hey, Kendall,” Potter greeted as she walked into the clubhouse and found Christopher’s table empty. “They’re in the conference room.”
“Thanks.”
It shouldn’t have shocked her to find CJ, Rory, and Ryan sitting amongst the men.
“What’s this about, Kendall?” Johnnie demanded.
She glared at him and sniffed, deciding to address another urgent matter before she broached the topic of Bash. “First, fuckheads? Hortensia is growing by leaps and bounds. Unless you want to relocate the club, act like grown men and stop doing shit in front of civilians.”
Christopher straightened and tilted his bottle toward Digger. “That speech got anything to do with this motherfucker’s busted lip?”
“A fucking lot,” she grumbled, “but it also has to do with you. Don’t forget how you chased Mortician through a motherfucking hospital with the intent to shoot him.”
He shrugged. “Mort supposed to listen to me.”
“Yeah, well, fuckhead, he’ll listen to you from your fucking jail cell if you don’t control your fucking temper. One day, an upstanding citizen won’t take a bribe or sign an NDA.”
“Fuck, fine,” he conceded. “You right.” He swigged from his tequila. “We got to find a way to run some of these motherfuckers out of town.”
“It won’t be as easy as that, Outlaw,” Cash said.
“A lot of infrastructure has been built to accommodate all the new residents, Uncle Christopher,” Diesel added.
“Is this why you called us here?” Johnnie asked. “To chew us out like we’re fucking children?”
She sailed forward and tossed her hair, smirking at her husband. “I have five children of my own. I don’t need anymore.”
“Are you implying I’m a fucking child, Kendall?”
“That’s mild compared to what I’d really like to call you, Johnnie.”
“You little bitch,” he growled.
“Would you like a mirror, love? Your reflection will reveal who’s the bitch between us.”
Johnnie got to his feet. Rory rushed to his and hurried to her, planting himself in front of her and facing his father. He wasn’t as tall as Johnnie yet, but in the last few months he’d shot up. The top of his head reached Kendall’s chin.
“Back off Mom, Dad,” he said fiercely.
“You and me are talking later, Rory,” Johnnie said, missing the importance of the moment. He should’ve applauded their son for protecting her.
Wrapping her arms around Rory, Kendall hugged him tightly, grateful for him.
Rory shrugged her off, though she doubted he was conscious of his actions as he faced off with his father. “I don’t have anything to say to you, Dad. Ever again,” he added ominously.
Unlike the coldness in Johnnie’s eyes, Rory’s burned with dislike.
Kendall frowned. “What’s going on?”
Sidling an uneasy glance at Christopher, Rory looked at her and shook his head. “Nothing, Mom. Dad and I just had an argument.”
“About?”
“None of your fucking business, Kendall,” Johnnie snarled. “It happened days ago. If you hadn’t been so busy with Christopher, maybe you could’ve been there for your son. But it’s club business, so leave.”
“Club business,” Christopher echoed.